Shen Rui had a plan. It was a simple plan. Finish his duties at the Imperial Academy, avoid unnecessary conversations, return to the Marquis’s residence, and sleep until the sun was high in the sky. Unfortunately, the imperial court had no intention of cooperating. “Seventh Young Master, this way.” Shen Rui followed a young palace attendant through the long corridor, his eyelids heavy and his steps slow. The sky was barely bright. He had woken before dawn, attended morning court, stood for what felt like an entire lifetime, and listened to ministers argue over grain shipments. Now, instead of returning to bed, he had been sent to the Imperial Academy. I should have stayed dead. The attendant walking ahead suddenly stumbled. Shen Rui glanced at him. Is he sick? “Young Master, we’ve arrived.” Shen Rui looked up. The Imperial Academy stood within the palace grounds, its red pillars and dark-tiled roofs imposing even in the early morning. Several scholars were already entering, their robes neatly arranged and their expressions alert. Shen Rui looked at them with quiet disapproval. Why are they so energetic? He stepped inside. And immediately regretted it. The Useless Seventh Son The room was filled with shelves of documents, bamboo slips, and wooden tables covered in writing materials. An elderly official stood near the largest desk. He had gray hair, a straight back, and the severe expression of a man who had never tolerated laziness in his entire life. “Are you Shen Rui?” “Yes, sir.” “I am Han Zhi, Minister of the Imperial Academy.” Shen Rui bowed. “Greetings, Minister Han.” The old minister examined him from head to toe. “His Majesty has ordered you to assist with the organization of official records.” Shen Rui glanced at the stacks of documents. “All of them?” “Naturally not. Only those assigned to you.” That’s still too many. Minister Han’s eyebrows moved slightly. Shen Rui looked up. “Is there a problem?” “No.” The minister turned toward the nearest table. “Begin with those.” Shen Rui approached the table and sat down. The first document concerned grain shipments from a northern province. The second recorded the number of carts dispatched. The third listed the amount received at a provincial warehouse. He read them carefully. Then he stopped. This doesn’t match. He picked up the second document and compared the numbers. The shipment records stated that three hundred carts had departed. The warehouse report recorded only two hundred and eighty-four arriving. Sixteen carts were missing. Shen Rui reached for another document. The dates were inconsistent. He picked up a fourth. The official seal belonged to a different provincial office. What a mess. He sorted the documents into separate piles. Minister Han noticed. “What are you doing?” “Organizing them.” “Why have you separated those?” “The dates don’t match. These records concern different provinces, and this seal is incorrect.” Minister Han immediately walked over. He took the document from Shen Rui’s hand and examined it. His expression changed. “Where did you notice this?” “The seal.” “Anything else?” Shen Rui pointed at the papers. “The shipment records don’t correspond to the warehouse report.” Minister Han picked up the relevant documents. He checked the figures. Then he looked at Shen Rui. The seventh son of the Marquis of Yong’an was reputed to be lazy, incompetent, and uninterested in learning. Yet he had identified an error that several clerks had overlooked. “Continue,” the minister said. Shen Rui nodded. Good. If I finish quickly, I can leave quickly. Minister Han stared at him for a moment before returning to his desk. A Scholar Who Talks Too Much By midday, Shen Rui had completed the first pile of records. His back ached. His eyes were tired. His soul had left his body somewhere around the third document. He reached for a cup of tea. A young scholar sitting across from him suddenly spoke. “Young Master Shen.” Shen Rui lifted his eyes. “Yes?” “I heard you were not particularly good at studying.” Shen Rui took a sip of tea. “That is what people say.” “Is it true?” “Probably.” The scholar blinked. Shen Rui placed the cup down. Why does he care? The young man introduced himself as Lu Wen, the son of a minor official. He had a lively face and a curiosity that Shen Rui found exhausting. “Then how did you identify the errors in the grain records?” “I read them.” Lu Wen stared. “That’s all?” “What else was I supposed to do? Ask the documents to explain themselves?” A nearby scholar snorted. Lu Wen’s ears reddened. “I was asking seriously.” “So was I.” These people ask questions with obvious answers. Lu Wen looked toward the others. “Is he always like this?” “No,” Shen Rui answered. Lu Wen turned back. “Really?” “Sometimes I’m worse.” A burst of laughter spread across the room. Shen Rui looked down at his documents. At least they’re entertaining themselves. Lu Wen stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or be offended. Minister Han, from his desk, quietly shook his head. An Unexpected Summons Shen Rui had just finished sorting the last document when a palace attendant entered. “Young Master Shen.” Shen Rui’s fingers stopped moving. He already disliked that tone. “His Majesty summons you.” The room became noticeably quieter. Shen Rui slowly placed the document on the table. What now? The attendant bowed. “You must come immediately.” Shen Rui glanced at Minister Han. The old minister gave him an encouraging look. It was not helpful. Shen Rui rose from his seat. I should have pretended not to know how to read. Lu Wen suddenly lowered his head. Shen Rui didn’t notice. He followed the attendant through the corridors, his thoughts becoming increasingly unpleasant. Did I make a mistake? Did I speak too casually? Perhaps the emperor wants to punish me for yawning. He paused. Can someone be executed for yawning during court? The attendant’s pace quickened. Shen Rui sighed. This is why I wanted to be a salted fish. Before the Emperor The emperor’s study was quiet. Xiao Jingyuan sat behind a desk, reviewing the grain records Shen Rui had organized. The emperor was twenty-seven years old, yet the weight of his position seemed to have carved years into his expression. His black robes were embroidered with golden dragons, and his gaze was sharp enough to make experienced ministers choose their words carefully. Shen Rui entered and bowed. “Your Majesty.” “Rise.” “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Xiao Jingyuan gestured toward the documents. “These corrections were made by you?” “Yes.” “How did you identify the discrepancies?” Shen Rui considered the question. “Some dates were incorrect. The seals didn’t match the offices listed, and the shipment numbers were inconsistent.” The emperor studied him. “You noticed all of that in one morning?” Shen Rui paused. Was I supposed to pretend I couldn’t? “I was simply reading the documents carefully.” Xiao Jingyuan leaned back. “Your reputation suggests that you have little interest in scholarly matters.” Shen Rui lowered his head. “This subject is not particularly talented.” I’m talented at surviving. Unfortunately, I doubt that belongs in an official report. The emperor’s eyes remained on him. “Do you believe the grain discrepancy is accidental?” Shen Rui looked at the records. “No.” The answer came quickly. “Why?” “The missing grain is not the only inconsistency. The records were filed incorrectly, and the seals don’t correspond. Someone may have altered the documents.” He paused. “However, this subject has not investigated the matter personally and cannot confirm it.” Xiao Jingyuan’s gaze sharpened. A cautious answer. Not the empty flattery he had grown accustomed to hearing. “What would you recommend?” Shen Rui’s mind immediately produced several possibilities. Check the warehouse. Question the clerks. Follow the shipment route. Find out who benefits. He kept his face composed. “This subject recommends examining the shipment routes and questioning the officials responsible for the records.” “Practical.” The emperor picked up another document. “Tomorrow, you will accompany Minister Han to the Ministry of Revenue.” Shen Rui’s expression almost collapsed. “Tomorrow?” “Yes.” Again? The emperor glanced at him. “You appear dissatisfied.” Shen Rui quickly bowed. “This subject is honored by Your Majesty’s trust.” I am honored to be alive. That doesn’t mean I want more work. Xiao Jingyuan was silent for a moment. Then he said, “You may leave.” Shen Rui bowed and withdrew. He did not look back. The Emperor’s Observation After the door closed, Xiao Jingyuan placed the document on the desk. “Shen Rui.” The name was familiar. The seventh son of the Marquis of Yong’an had never attracted much attention. His reputation was unremarkable, and his family had never considered him particularly useful. Yet the boy had identified discrepancies in the grain records with surprising ease. More interestingly, he had not attempted to exaggerate his contribution. He had neither begged for praise nor tried to display his intelligence. Xiao Jingyuan leaned back. “Investigate the seventh son of the Marquis of Yong’an.” The attendant standing nearby bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.” “His education. His household. His usual activities.” “Understood.” The emperor picked up the next memorial. But his thoughts returned briefly to the young official’s expression. Shen Rui had looked genuinely horrified when told he would be attending the Ministry of Revenue. It was an unusual reaction. Most young noblemen would have considered the assignment an opportunity to gain influence. Shen Rui had looked as though he had been sentenced to hard labor. Xiao Jingyuan’s lips moved faintly. Then he returned to his work. A Quiet Evening By the time Shen Rui returned to the Marquis’s residence, the sun was already setting. He entered his room, dismissed the servants, and immediately removed his outer robe. The mattress welcomed him. He fell face-first onto the bed. Finally. He remained there for several breaths. Tomorrow, I have to go to the Ministry of Revenue. He turned his head toward the window. This is not the life I planned. He had wanted a quiet existence. A small house. Good food. No enemies. No missions. No one asking him to wake before sunrise. Instead, he had transmigrated into a noble household, attracted the emperor’s attention, and acquired official responsibilities within a few days. He pulled the blanket over himself. Maybe I should start behaving like the useless seventh son. He considered the idea. If I make a few mistakes, they might stop assigning me work. He nodded to himself. Excellent plan. A knock sounded at the door. Shen Rui closed his eyes. “Who?” “Seventh Brother.” Shen Mingxuan. Shen Rui stared at the ceiling. Why is he here? “Come in.” The door opened. Shen Mingxuan entered, holding a folded robe. “Father wants you to attend the family dinner tonight.” Shen Rui sat up. “Why?” “Because you are a member of this family.” That answer explains nothing. Shen Mingxuan placed the robe on the chair. “I heard His Majesty summoned you.” “Yes.” “What did he want?” “Work.” Shen Mingxuan frowned. “You were summoned by the emperor, and you only have that to say?” Shen Rui looked at him. “What else should I say?” Shen Mingxuan’s expression tightened. “You should be careful. The palace is not a place where you can behave carelessly.” Shen Rui nodded. “Thank you for the warning.” He is surprisingly useful when he isn’t shouting. Shen Mingxuan’s face changed. He looked at Shen Rui for a long moment. Then he turned and left. Shen Rui watched the door close. Strange family. The Morning Nightmare The next morning, Shen Rui woke before the servant could call him. Not because he had become responsible. Because he had dreamed of being dragged into court by a group of ministers. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. I hate this place. The servant entered with his clothing. “Young Master, it is time to prepare.” Shen Rui buried his face in the pillow. “Five more minutes.” “Young Master, you must leave soon.” Five minutes is a reasonable request. The servant stood silently. Shen Rui sighed and sat up. He dressed, ate a hurried breakfast, and left the residence. By the time he reached the palace, the morning sky was still gray. The officials gathered outside the great hall. Shen Rui stood at the back, suppressing a yawn. If I die from sleep deprivation, I will haunt this emperor. Inside the hall, Xiao Jingyuan entered and took his seat. His gaze swept across the assembled officials. It stopped briefly on Shen Rui. The young official looked as though he had personally declared war on the rising sun. Xiao Jingyuan remembered the grain records. And the boy’s unwillingness to be summoned. “Begin,” he ordered. Shen Rui lowered his head. Please let this end quickly. The court session began. And somewhere in the vast imperial palace, the emperor’s curiosity about the marquis’s seventh son quietly deepened. Shen Rui, unaware of any of it, was already planning how to finish his work early.

Competence Is a Cure