Chapter 57: Honey Trap 2.0 Part 2

Gu Huaiyu assumed the man was fuming with rage. He set the cup down and clapped his hands. “Someone, untie him.”

Two Iron Eagle Guards entered immediately. With a few swift movements, they cut Wei Qingya’s ropes, bowed, and retreated, closing the door behind them.

Having been bound for nearly an hour, Wei Qingya’s limbs were numb; his fingertips trembled uncontrollably.

Gu Huaiyu watched him shake—assuming it was from fury—and narrowed his eyes. He got straight to the point. “I have brought you here because I want you to re-enter the court as an official and serve me.”

“What?” Wei Qingya looked up sharply, momentarily forgetting the numbness in his limbs.

He braced himself against the floor to sit upright, asking in disbelief, “Serve you?”

Gu Huaiyu’s expression darkened instantly. “Unwilling?”

“I am willing!” Wei Qingya blurted out, the volume of his own voice startling even himself.

Seeing that the man had succumbed to his “intimidation,” Gu Huaiyu nodded with slight satisfaction. “At least you are sensible. It saves you from physical suffering.”

Belatedly, Wei Qingya prostrated himself in a deep kowtow, his voice ringing with passion. “This Wei is willing to serve Chancellor Gu!”

Gu Huaiyu raised a hand, gesturing for him to rise.

Wei Qingya stood up, his face still clouded with a dazed expression.

Sensing this perceived lack of enthusiasm, Gu Huaiyu suppressed his annoyance. “I intend to appoint you as the Departmental Director of the Ministry of Revenue, in charge of water transport and salt taxes.”

These words were like a thunderclap that finally jolted Wei Qingya fully awake.

His eyes went wide as he stared at Gu Huaiyu. “Director of the Ministry of Revenue?”

That was a powerful, fourth-rank position with real authority.

Gu Huaiyu didn’t think the rank was too low. After all, before Wei Qingya left the court, he had only been a minor seventh-rank official. Did he dare to be dissatisfied now?

Refusing to bicker, Gu Huaiyu decided to test the man’s mettle. He pulled a black-covered ledger from a desk drawer. “Since you have been in business for many years, I assume you are proficient in accounting?”

Wei Qingya nodded instinctively. Gu Huaiyu pushed the ledger toward him. “Look.”

As he flipped to the first page, Wei Qingya’s hand froze. This was the secret ledger of the Ministry of Revenue’s national treasury!

This was a document that only the Emperor and the Chancellor were permitted to read!

Every entry annotated in vermilion ink concerned the lifeblood of Great Chen: military rations, the Annual Tribute, salt and iron taxes, and imperial household expenses. Every single item was detailed to the extreme.

If even a fraction of such secrets were leaked, it would, at best, shake the court and, at worst, destabilize the very foundations of the nation.

Wei Qingya’s eyes suddenly grew hot. He looked up at Gu Huaiyu, stunned.

Snap!

Gu Huaiyu rapped his knuckles sharply against the desk. “Look at the ledger. Why are you looking at me?”

Wei Qingya flinched and quickly lowered his head to continue reading.

As line after line of numbers entered his vision, his face grew increasingly grim.

The total revenue for the Ministry of Revenue last year was clearly marked as 8.96 million taels. In any era, such a figure would suggest a nation dripping with wealth.

But Wei Qingya had managed accounts for years; he saw the discrepancy with a single glance.

He took a deep breath, his fingertips trembling as he turned the page.

Military deficit: 100,000 taels.

Jiangzhou disaster relief deficit: 300,000 taels.

Water transport, river works, irrigation, weapon manufacturing…

Every single one of these items was circled in red, followed by notes like “Arrears,” “Delayed,” or “No funds allocated.”

It was shocking.

An annual income of nearly nine million taels should have been enough to sustain the people of Great Chen for three years. That the treasury was so broke it couldn’t even produce silver for disaster relief was utterly inconceivable.

Wei Qingya was a clever man. He immediately flipped to a specific section.

Highlighted in cinnabar were the Imperial Household expenses: 6.5 million taels!

It accounted for more than seventy percent of the national revenue!

He looked up, his eyelids twitching uncontrollably as he murmured, “This account…”

Gu Huaiyu lightly stroked the porcelain teacup, not even glancing at him as he spoke casually. “The Late Emperor spent 2.8 million taels to build Wanning Palace. Just paving the floor with gold bricks cost 600,000 taels.”

“For the Empress’s birthday, the Late Emperor built the Emerald Frost-Jade Pool at the Moon-Gazing Terrace—260,000 taels. Even the fireworks he let off for ten days…”

He suddenly let out a cold chuckle, spitting out the words with forced indifference. “About 800,000 taels.”

Wei Qingya’s own lifestyle was as extravagant as a prince’s, yet this string of numbers made his scalp tingle and his heart turn cold. It was as if he could hear the sound of silver being shoveled into the ocean, scoop by scoop.

Wanning Palace was the villa the Late Emperor had built for Empress Gu; it took five years to complete.

The commoners called it “Paradise on Earth,” and the people cursed Empress Gu as a “Calamitous Femme Fatale,” claiming she had bewitched the Late Emperor into such profligacy.

But Wei Qingya was a man who understood how things worked. How could a woman living deep in the inner palace possibly extract money from the Minister of Revenue?

That squandering, that extravagance—it was clearly what the Late Emperor himself wanted, yet he had let Empress Gu bear the world’s scorn.

To push his own wife to the front as a shield while he hid behind her to enjoy his pleasures… it was truly beneath contempt.

Gu Huaiyu remained calm and composed, taking a light sip of tea. “Keep reading.”