Chapter 415: You’re Colluding with the Emperor

“Records of Dao Kun’s Strange Tales,” “Cang Hai’s Treatises on Things”…

Looking down at the two titles scribbled on the tiny slip of paper, everyone in the Hanlin Academy felt an almost irresistible urge to slap the paper against the face of the little eunuch who had delivered it.

“Can you at least read the first title out loud for me?! How the hell are we supposed to find it like this?!”

“Try and find it! If you can locate it within a year, I’ll admit you’re impressive!”

Wait a minute… wasn’t the job of finding books actually the responsibility of the Imperial Library? Director Li had already assigned Zhu Ping’an to that department.

As the scholars in the Hanlin Academy muttered their curses under their breath, they suddenly realized the book-finding task wasn’t theirs at all—it was Zhu Ping’an’s job. A quiet surge of relief coursed through them.

Better him than me.

That old, reliable principle held true once again: as long as I’m fine, who cares if floods rise and storms rage?

“Hmm, then please have this little note delivered to Lord Zhu Ping’an in the Imperial Library. Matters related to books are under his jurisdiction,” Yuan Wei said, smiling as he handed the slip back to the little eunuch and pointed toward the library.

On his face lingered a hint of schadenfreude, barely disguised behind his polite smile.

Others nodded in agreement, silently acknowledging that now was hardly the time to show off their academic flair. Neither of them had ever even heard of these books, let alone having any hope of digging them out from the library’s more than a hundred thousand volumes.

And they had also overheard the little eunuch: the Emperor was waiting. Right now, the Emperor and his ministers were holding court over maritime restrictions. A court session of this scale hadn’t been seen in years. If they bungled matters for these powerful men, even a beating with the court’s rod would be a mercy.

Heh, sweet and sour fish may go well with rice, but let’s see if a court beating goes down as easily!

Yuan Wei watched the little eunuch walking toward the library and couldn’t help imagining Zhu Ping’an being pinned to the ground by the imperial guards and flogged. Tch, somehow it lifted his spirits. Ah, a few drinks in the afternoon, a bit of snacks and roasted meat—life was so delightfully simple.

The little eunuch arrived at the library and handed Zhu Ping’an the slip of paper, explaining its context: Emperor Jiajing was currently debating maritime bans with the ministers.

Hearing this, Zhu Ping’an felt a surge of frustration, as if he wanted to rush into the court and give them a lecture on European exploration.

During Jiajing’s later years, the maritime bans fluctuated, but overall the policy remained strict. Whether strict or “relaxed,” it was essentially the same—they only allowed a token opening of one or two trading offices, far from true openness. Compared to the seafaring age of the Song and Yuan dynasties, this was a pitifully small step.

Meanwhile, across the globe, Europe was deep in its Age of Exploration. Sea trade and colonial expansion were at their peak.

European sailing ships plowed through the waves, laden with gold, silver, spices, and jewels stained with the blood of colonies.

Other ships carried human cargo, the horrors of the transatlantic slave trade in full swing.

Some pirates knelt on deck as queens knighted them, while countless others roamed the oceans in search of enemy merchant vessels.

And yet here they were, debating whether maritime bans should be slightly stricter or a little looser.

The world is in the Age of Exploration, my friend! Others are playing the real-life pirate king game, and we’re stuck arguing about bans!

Ah, well, it’s history. One small Hanlin scholar could change nothing. But still… it was infuriating to think that, centuries later, foreign powers would smash open the doors of isolation with cannon fire, treating the empire as a piñata for anyone to poke.

Especially that tiny island nation. Ugh… it was wreaking havoc along the coast even now!

Although… that island was in the midst of its own Warring States chaos. If only…

No, stop. Don’t think about it. Wash up and sleep. Right now, he was just a small scholar in the Hanlin Academy. No one would listen to him.

Damn it, I must seize power. Absolute power! Only then will my words carry weight!

“Cough… Lord Zhu…” The little eunuch watched Zhu Ping’an fluctuate between despair, clenched teeth, and near mania. He felt a twinge of sympathy, understanding that the Hanlin scholars had deliberately thrust the note onto Zhu Ping’an—diverting misfortune onto someone else.

The little eunuch couldn’t help but pity the young scholar. He knew Zhu Ping’an’s flustered behavior stemmed from the impossible task on the slip. Even from the faces of other scholars, he had seen their barely concealed desire to gnaw him alive when confronted with these titles. Besides, the eunuch himself didn’t even recognize the first two characters of the first title.

“Lord Zhu, finding these books falls under the Imperial Library’s responsibility. Thank you for your hard work,” the little eunuch said.

A few curious Hanlin scholars had followed along, eager to witness the top scholar helplessly at a loss.

“Zi Hou, don’t worry. Once we finish our tasks, we’ll come to help ease your burden,” Yuan Wei appeared, feigning concern, promising assistance once his current work was done.

But anyone could see it was an excuse: by the time they finished, it would be far too late.

Easy to talk, hard to act.

Other scholars perked up at Yuan Wei’s words, eagerly crowding around Zhu Ping’an with offers of help. “Once I finish the Yuan Shi, I’ll help find the books.” “After my ten imperial edicts are done, I’ll come.” The Yuan Shi alone would take years, and ten edicts, though quicker, would still take days.

Their enthusiasm overflowed; they kept chattering and fussing over him without end.

“Please wait a moment, gentlemen. Ping’an will return shortly,” Zhu Ping’an said politely, bowing slightly in apology.

Then he turned and entered the library.

What’s he doing? Returning shortly? Is he calming himself, or planning to serve us tea and then ask for our help?

I bet he’s going for tea! He wants our help!

No, I need an excuse to refuse, at least until I see him in a frenzy.

Right… when he comes out, I’ll say I’m busy drafting the imperial edicts…

But before the scholars could even formulate their excuses, Zhu Ping’an reappeared.

“My edict is quite urgent…” one Hanlin scholar began, followed immediately by others, all trying to preempt Zhu Ping’an from asking them to make tea and help.

“Oh, then please go attend to your work,” Zhu Ping’an replied without hesitation, nodding.

The scholars froze in surprise—he’d just nodded, without a moment’s thought.

Bold as a newborn calf! Can he actually handle this?!

Just as their disbelief reached its peak, Zhu Ping’an spoke again, and what he did next made their eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“Thank you, little eunuch.”

He handed the two books to the eunuch who had delivered the note. The top book… bore the title Records of Dao Kun’s Strange Tales. Those four characters practically blinded the scholars with astonishment.

What the hell?! He found them already?! He must have colluded with the Emperor!!!