I'm Already the Richest Man, Why Did My System Just Arrive?

「Imperial City.」

The matter of Shi Wentong’s grisly death in his carriage wasn’t exactly a major incident.

The Imperial City was teeming with important figures; a mere Minister of the Ministry of Revenue was hardly a high-ranking official.

But it wasn’t a minor one, either.

After all, he was still a director in the Six Ministries.

Shi Wentong’s body lay in the Six Gates morgue on East District City God Temple Street for three days.

The Six Gates investigated the scene late at night but found no trace of a culprit, aside from the coachman.

The coachman wasn’t a Wandering driver from the Zheng Clan’s ride-hailing service, but one of Shi Wentong’s own trusted men. After a brief interrogation, he was cleared of suspicion.

The "Minister of the Ministry of Revenue Found Dead in the Street Case" was initially going to be handed over to the Ministry of Revenue for them to handle internally.

However, the Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, Ke Bingliang, casually replied that any murder case occurring under the Emperor’s nose, no matter how trivial, fell under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Justice.

The Ministry of Justice took one look and disagreed, claiming it was clearly a sudden death, and pushed the case to the Ministry of Personnel.

They said the Minister of the Ministry of Personnel should just strike him from the official records and issue the pension.

The Minister of the Ministry of Personnel was even more reluctant. He’d heard that Shi Wentong’s dying screams had echoed throughout the Imperial City. This was a hot potato no one wanted to touch, so he quickly ordered his men to shirk the responsibility overnight.

The major ministries passed the buck for a full day and night before someone from higher up finally issued an order: The circumstances of the Minister of the Ministry of Revenue’s death were suspicious. The cause of death was to be thoroughly investigated within three days.

All the forensic doctors in the city received the order and went to the morgue one after another to examine the body.

Shi Wentong’s corpse was still frozen in the position it was in at the time of death. When the forensic doctors lifted the sheet, they saw a horrifying sight. Shi Wentong’s eyes were wide open and bloodshot, as if he had suffered a tremendous shock. The body had been there for a day and a night, and was covered in livor mortis, making it look even more grotesque. Every forensic doctor gasped in unison, feeling a cold wind sweep through the morgue, as if someone were crying out for justice from the netherworld.

The forensic doctors examined the body all night but couldn’t determine the cause. One experienced forensic doctor ventured a guess: scared to death.

The ministries, of course, wouldn’t accept this conclusion. Left with no other choice, they asked a veteran forensic doctor, who had been retired for many years, to come and take a look.

The old forensic doctor was eighty-three years old, well into his twilight years. He hobbled into the morgue, supported by several of his disciples.

A short while later, under everyone’s watchful eyes, the old forensic doctor frowned and lifted Shi Wentong’s undergarments. He understood at once.

"His ’yang root’ is purple, swollen, and congested with blood. It’s clearly a case of excessive ’yang’ tonics. His body was too weak to handle them, leading to an imbalance of qi and blood, and a sudden surge of heat to the heart. May I ask if Lord Shi had recently ingested any potent supplements?"

Everyone found this incredible, so they questioned Shi Wentong’s family.

A careful investigation, following the faintest of clues, even turned up the prescription from that famous physician.

And so, the bizarre case was closed.

The truth was out.

Lord Shi could finally rest in peace.

The case was ultimately handed over to the Ministry of Personnel for final disposition.

The cause of Shi Wentong’s death was not publicly announced, but the inside story still leaked.

There was no particular reason, other than the fact that it was just too funny.

...

After the Zheng Clan recently implemented a series of "wealth distribution" measures, their business was now booming. Individual depositors were practically breaking down the doors of the bank, and Second Lady was so busy with important matters that she couldn’t get away.

Zizi, Pingping, and Lily, the trio responsible for visiting the prison, returned and reported to Second Lady that Master Zheng was doing well—in fact, he was living quite comfortably. Only then did Second Lady’s worried heart finally settle.

The Ministry of Revenue had investigated for days but failed to find concrete evidence of the Zheng Clan’s tax evasion. Barring any surprises, Master Zheng would be free once the official documents were issued. As for how to seek justice and proclaim his innocence afterward, that would be for the Master to decide.

After finishing her urgent tasks, Second Lady planned to make a trip to the Prison Camp to tell Master Zheng the wonderful news.

Also, the previous evening at dusk, as Second Lady was returning to the Zheng Family estate by carriage, the Wandering driver had secretly slipped a thin wooden tube into her hand. He said it was for a task Master Zheng had someone handle, and that it must be delivered personally into the Master’s hands.

She managed the accounts, and every month, a large sum of money was personally withdrawn by Master Zheng under the heading of "monthly allowance." Zheng Erniang suspected that Zheng Xiu might be secretly supporting a group of idle men, but she had never pried into the matter.

Now it seemed her suspicions were correct.

There was another important matter. Following Zheng Xiu’s instructions, Second Lady had been investigating a small village called "Baili Village." She had made some initial progress and thought she should also deliver this news to the Master.

Second Lady put away the ledger, preparing to leave Zheng’s Bank.

A Wandering driver from the Zheng Clan’s ride-hailing service had been waiting for a long time and relayed a message.

He said there was a strange man at the Fragrant Pavilion, squatting in front of the restaurant and hawking a gleaming, sharp meat cleaver.

And for some reason, Chef He, the Old Chef who had been working in the kitchen since the Fragrant Pavilion first opened, had taken a fancy to the man’s blade and was insistent on buying it.

As she got into the carriage, the Wandering driver began to run forward at a rapid pace.

"Then just buy it?"

Second Lady’s willow-like brows furrowed. She was puzzled.

’How expensive can a knife be? Does he really need me to make the decision?’

"That’s the strange part." If Zizi had been the one taking the carriage, she would have recognized this man. He was the same middle-aged Wandering driver who had been "enjoying the culture" at Heaven on Earth that night. The driver grinned, revealing two rows of neat white teeth. "I found it suspicious. The man selling the knife said it’s only for loan, not for sale. He won’t sell it for any price and insists on meeting the Master."

’Subordinate?’

Second Lady was taken aback. Staring at the Wandering driver’s back, she thought for a moment and recognized him as the driver who had secretly slipped her the "item" the previous evening.

’There are no such coincidences in this world,’ Second Lady thought, then lowered her voice and asked, "You are...?"

The Wandering driver ran faster and faster. The crowds on either side blurred into afterimages as they flew past Second Lady, yet the carriage remained remarkably steady.

"Qing Shisan. Qing as in ’celebration,’ and Shisan as in the thirteenth of the first month. I am indebted to the Master for helping me out when I was in trouble. Now, I’m shamelessly earning a living under him."

Soon, Qing Shisan, pulling Second Lady’s carriage with perfect stability, arrived at the Fragrant Pavilion.

In front of the Fragrant Pavilion, a young man in rough linen clothes sat by the steps, holding a cloth-wrapped bundle. Judging by its shape, it was undoubtedly a meat cleaver.

Chef He was squatting beside him, earnestly trying to persuade the young man to sell the knife, saying any reasonable price would be fine.

It was clear Chef He truly loved that knife.

Second Lady got out of the carriage and looked from a distance.

The young man’s Age was estimated to be in his twenties, his Appearance unremarkable; he would be hard to pick out in a crowd. What struck Second Lady the most was the thick, dark, sticky plaster on his left cheek, which was particularly conspicuous.

When the young knife seller saw Second Lady approaching, he grinned. "You’re not the master here, are you, miss?"

Second Lady was decisive in business. After a brief pleasantry, she cut to the chase and asked for the price.

"This knife of mine is only for credit, not for sale!"

Second Lady shook her head. "The Zheng Family never buys on credit."

The young man brushed the dust off his clothes and casually handed the knife, which he had been clutching all morning, to Chef He.

"Miss, I never said I wouldn’t take money for the knife. Exactly one hundred taels of silver, no more, no less. When your Master ’returns,’ I’ll come to collect it myself... hehe."

One hundred taels for a kitchen knife was an "exorbitant price" on the market, but it was nothing in Second Lady’s eyes. Seeing Chef He joyfully running back to the kitchen to test the blade, she couldn’t be bothered to haggle. But when she turned to look for the young knife seller to get his contact information, he had already vanished into the crowd.

"A Knife Seller?" Qing Shisan was leaning against a tree, wiping sweat with the towel draped over his shoulder. Seeing this, he paused, reminded of the rumors that had circulated through the streets and alleys many years ago.

With no customer to attend to, Qing Shisan sat on the ground, rubbing his bare feet. He reached into a hidden compartment under the carriage seat, pulled out a long-stemmed pipe, and lit it with a CLICK from his flint and steel.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Qing Shisan pursed his lips. "Times have changed! In these peaceful days, who still practices these arts?"

...

"How strange!"

Second Lady didn’t dwell on the matter. She muttered to herself and ordered someone to pack up a few of the side dishes the Master usually enjoyed.

This had been her original reason for taking a detour to the Fragrant Pavilion.

Qing Shisan was one of the Master’s men. Out of her blind trust in Zheng Xiu, Second Lady didn’t bring any other Thugs or guards, taking Qing Shisan’s "private car" to the Prison Camp.

She was granted passage all the way to Room A. Just as she was about to tell the Master all the good news, she saw Zheng Xiu leaning back in the Grandmaster’s Chair, his brow slightly furrowed and his expression shifting subtly.

Seeing his face, Second Lady couldn’t bear to disturb him and waited quietly outside the cell.

A quick-witted Prison Guard brought her a stool.

"May the ancestors of the Zheng Clan protect us. Old General, if your spirit is in Heaven, please watch over us too. Please keep Xiu’er safe this time."

Second Lady closed her eyes and prayed silently for Zheng Xiu, sending her respects to the eighteen generations of Zheng Clan ancestors, and to his father who had died a hero’s death.