Chapter 33 — TVF Chapter 33

A Poor Family’s Hereditary Scumbag (5) The Emperor had wanted to tackle the salt administration for a long time—it was hardly a new idea.

In the original plot, it was precisely the male lead, the Tenth Prince, working together with the female lead Rui Li, who thoroughly investigated the current state of the salt monopoly. They compiled an exceptionally detailed, objective report—so exhaustive it was practically half a dictionary—which finally won the Emperor’s favor and allowed the prince to accumulate his first piece of political capital.

Of course, that came at the cost of several investigative teams sent by the Emperor being almost completely wiped out.

Now that Qin Jingzhou had intervened and saved two of those men, he guessed that the Tenth Prince would still come south eventually. After all, the prince’s appointment as Imperial Envoy to investigate the salt administration didn’t feel like a last-minute decision—it had all the signs of long-term planning.

One of the two men Qin Jingzhou had saved was the Tenth Prince’s cousin. The other—the one standing right in front of him now—was the son of the Left Director of the Imperial Clan Court.

In Great Liang, the key officials of the Imperial Clan Court were all princes or commandery princes. Calling this man “Your Highness” was, at the very least, not wrong.

Qin Jingzhou therefore prompted him lightly, “Your Highness?”

Only then did the young prince snap out of it. He gave a bitter smile. “When the accident happened, I already suspected her. Now it seems I gave her far too much credit. Pretending to faint would’ve been one thing—but she actually injured herself. That’s just stupid.”

Qin Jingzhou immediately replied, “So you knew all along.”

The young prince clasped his hands together, then draped an arm over Qin Jingzhou’s shoulders as he led him inside. “I won’t let your daughter get married off. I promise.”

Qin Jingzhou smiled faintly. “I’ll take your word for it—for now.”

Qin Jingzhou’s clan uncle, who had once served as an aide to a provincial judicial commissioner, was a worldly man. The moment he saw the young prince step out, noting his dress, bearing, and mannerisms, he roughly guessed his identity. So when Qin Jingzhou addressed him as “Your Highness,” the uncle wasn’t surprised at all.

But seeing how familiar the prince was with Qin Jingzhou, the uncle quietly raised his estimation of this nephew—who was technically related by clan but separated by more than five generations—by several levels in his heart. He now regarded him as nothing less than a rising prodigy destined to restore the family’s fortunes.

The Yu clan might have once been a prestigious lineage, but in recent decades its status had steadily declined. The family had exhausted its resources just to support a single member serving as a Ministry of Works Vice Minister in the capital.

Looking ahead, the only person with any hope of reaching the fifth rank was the county magistrate-turned-judicial officer—but that man was already over forty, with little chance of further advancement.

Even worse, there was no one to succeed them.

Most of the younger generation had studied until their twenties without even passing the xiucai exam. That was the real reason the main branch was willing to gamble on Jingzhou—despite him coming from the tenth household and having had little contact with the core family for decades.

As the clan uncle followed the steward into the courtyard, he made up his mind before even passing the second gate: he would no longer merely help this nephew temporarily. From now on, he would fully commit to supporting him.

Qin Jingzhou, of course, had no idea that a single meeting with the young prince had sealed the uncle’s loyalty. Even if he had known, he wouldn’t have cared.

He followed the prince into the study. After they took their seats as host and guest, the prince spoke frankly, laying out everything he was permitted to disclose.

The matter began back when the Emperor was still a prince.

At the end of the previous reign, the struggle among the imperial sons had been as fierce as the infamous Nine Princes’ War. The current Emperor had originally been a minor prince, tagging along behind his Crown Prince elder brother.

The Crown Prince was deposed and died not long after, reportedly cursing those who had framed him with his dying breath. Upon hearing this, the late Emperor vomited blood. On his deathbed, he openly expressed regret at having deposed the Crown Prince and, before the assembled imperial relatives and senior ministers, passed the throne to the current Emperor—while making him swear to treat the deposed Crown Prince’s descendants kindly.

According to the information Qin Jingzhou had, the Crown Prince had indeed been wronged. But succession struggles never dealt in fairness—weakness itself was a crime. Since the Crown Prince was dead, both the late Emperor and the beneficiary of the struggle, the current Emperor, compensated and protected his line. As a result, the Crown Prince’s eldest son, Prince Li, lived better than most of his uncles and cousins—except for Prince Jin, who was so close to the Emperor they might as well have been wearing the same trousers.

Another key point: in Great Liang, salt tax revenue did not enter the state treasury. It went directly into the Emperor’s private coffers.

Normally, the Emperor would allocate a portion of that revenue to the Crown Prince—effectively his stipend or allowance.

Other nobles might covet the salt tax, but they usually only skimmed around the edges. The Emperor and Crown Prince typically turned a blind eye. After all, water too clear has no fish.

However, the Emperor had reigned for over a decade without appointing an heir. And after deposing the Crown Prince, the late Emperor—no one quite knew why—had never stopped the portion of salt revenue allocated to the Crown Prince’s household.

Prince Li lived extremely well off this revenue, and it gradually fed his ambitions. At first, he remembered his father’s fate and kept a low profile. Later on… his appetite grew uncontrollably.

When the current Emperor sensed Prince Li’s disloyalty, he sent people south to probe the salt administration, intending only to warn him. He never expected to uncover a massive case—Prince Li wasn’t merely harboring rebellious thoughts; he was firmly walking the road to open rebellion.

Qin Jingzhou took a sip of tea. “So once things were exposed, he decided to go all in.”

The young prince nodded repeatedly. “Ever since you saved me, Prince Jin dispatched guards to protect me. I stayed inside the city, so Prince Li couldn’t use force. I thought he had some other scheme lined up—but this was it?”

Qin Jingzhou asked calmly, “So you knew that the engagement contracts for my sister and my daughter ended up in the hands of your… concubine?”

The young prince gave an awkward smile. “I promise—they won’t actually be married off.”

Qin Jingzhou laughed. “So that wasn’t the real point. You wanted to see whether I’d fold under pressure and temptation.”

“I didn’t expect you to come straight to the door. When she called for me, I originally didn’t plan to appear. But after thinking it over, I worried you’d find out the truth later and hold a grudge…”

Qin Jingzhou picked up the thread smoothly. “After all, I’m exceptionally good at treating traumatic injuries.”

Prince Li valued him for the same reason. Even if Qin Jingzhou were merely a juren, or even a jinshi, he wouldn’t normally merit attention. But as a physician with unique skills, he could be pressured or bribed—but not offended too deeply, if one ever wanted his help again.

The young prince chuckled dryly. “So you already figured it out.”

After saving the Tenth Prince’s cousin and this young prince, and then accepting money from Prince Jin’s heir, there was no longer any pretending to be neutral—especially when every word the prince spoke implied Qin Jingzhou had already passed their test.

So Qin Jingzhou said simply, “Just help me resolve the engagement issue.”

The young prince responded immediately, “Absolutely.”

Leaving the courtyard, Qin Jingzhou returned to pick up his younger sister and his daughter Tianniu. He took the two girls, along with three nephews who had rushed back from other regions after quitting their jobs, to tour the county town—shopping for supplies and finding tutors for them.

Original Jingzhou’s studies had nearly drained both his own family and his father-in-law’s finances, so his nephews barely recognized a hundred characters, and his sister could only write her own name.

Now that Qin Jingzhou had arrived, he intended not only to teach his own children but also to make up for the younger generation’s missing “nine years of compulsory education.”

To be fair, although the original mother and second sister-in-law were truly awful, their children at least knew right from wrong. In this era, hiring a good teacher often meant personally visiting with the students.

The nephews and his sister performed well, and with Qin Jingzhou being a newly minted juren, the teacher accepted them readily, smiling all the while.

After leaving the teacher’s residence, Qin Jingzhou carried his purchases and went once more to visit his elderly father-in-law.

The old man was a retired xiucai, deeply devoted to his wife. He had once had a son and a daughter—the son died young, the daughter-in-law died in childbirth, leaving behind a frail grandson. The daughter… was Qin Jingzhou’s late wife.

Given that background, it wasn’t hard to understand why the old man had been willing to empty his coffers to support his son-in-law’s studies.

When Qin Jingzhou first arrived in this world, the old man had been bedridden and close to death. But when news of Qin Jingzhou passing the provincial exam reached him, his spirits lifted immediately. Qin Jingzhou returned with gifts and a physician from the prefectural city.

Now, more than half a month later, the old man could already walk with a cane.

This time, the old man himself opened the door.

Tianniu asked her father to put her down and toddled forward. “Grandpa!”

The old man’s face split into wrinkles as he laughed. “Grandpa’s precious little treasure!”

Qin Jingzhou had come precisely to show that he treated his father-in-law like his own father, so he didn’t avoid bringing his nephews or sister. Once inside, he spoke frankly: “The engagement issues have already been resolved.”

The old man, unaware of the details, wasn’t surprised at all. Holding Tianniu’s little hand, he exchanged a smile with his wife, who had come out holding their grandson. “I knew it wouldn’t stump you.”

When they stayed for the meal, Qin Jingzhou volunteered to teach his father-in-law’s grandson.

His nephews and sister were attending “basic literacy classes,” but the thirteen-year-old grandson was already at a “middle school” level. Before heading to the capital, Qin Jingzhou planned to tutor him and assess his talent.

If the boy truly had aptitude, Qin Jingzhou intended to train him into a juren himself.

His father-in-law and mother-in-law agreed immediately—they couldn’t have been happier.

The spring metropolitan exam in Great Liang was held in mid-March, and the capital was only six hundred li away. Qin Jingzhou could easily set out after the New Year.

Invitations and calling cards flooded in like snowflakes. After attending a few banquets, he grew tired of it and simply took his daughter to the prefectural city to drink with his judicial-officer cousin.

That was when he ran into Rui Li.

Great Liang customs were relatively open; women appearing in public was nothing unusual.

But Rui Li leapt from her carriage and tried to flee—only to be caught mid-run by a handsome man who flew in and embraced her.

Both were crying.

Thankfully, this was the northern quarter, where officials’ residences clustered and foot traffic was sparse.

Even so, Qin Jingzhou couldn’t help clicking his tongue at the idol-drama-level scene. “So the male lead finally shows up.” The system stuttered briefly. “Brother Zhou, the male lead has also been reborn.” “Expected. Without rebirth, he wouldn’t be this emotionally charged.  “With his rebirth, both the male and female lead halos have fully transferred. I can already tell roughly where they’ve gone.” Qin Jingzhou: …

Looking at the couple still clinging to each other, he smiled. “Interesting.”

He stepped down from the carriage and walked straight toward the lovebirds who clearly didn’t care about their surroundings. “Shall we find a place to talk?”

Rui Li recognized him and panicked for a split second.

The Tenth Prince had clearly done his homework. “Name your terms.”

Qin Jingzhou waved a hand. “My useless son gambles and beats people. He doesn’t deserve a wife, and I won’t let him ruin another family’s daughter. Since we’ve all gained a bit of opportunity, we might as well talk—say, Your Highness, why did your health grow weaker and weaker after you ascended the throne?”

The male and female leads: …