Zhao Jiaqi smiled shyly, her eyes curved, and replied, "A row of shops, a mere fifty-eight rooms, do you think an emperor can begrudge me this bit of property? Besides, I confirmed with you several times back then, and you agreed. Are you going back on your word?"
She swung the signed contract in her hand, looking at Zong Han with innocent peach blossom eyes.
She couldn't believe that a ruler of a nation would quibble over such a thing! It would be embarrassing enough if word got out!
Zong Han had nowhere to vent his anger and grumbled inwardly, "I think you're all about the same as an osmanthus root, full of cunning tricks!"
"Thank you for the compliment!" Zhao Jiaqi smiled and went along with his words, accepting the remark.
Originally, Zong Han was supposed to stay for a few more days to discuss the construction of the trade city. However, for some unknown reason, he returned to the Zongsheng Kingdom lightly packed overnight.
Fan Zehao and Zhao Jiaqi watched him leave, both filled with questions.
"Could something have happened to this Little Eight?"
The man shrugged. How would he know? The emperor had been away for almost three months; if he didn't return soon, someone might try to usurp his throne.
In late March, the construction of the trade city began. Following his wife's suggestion, Fan Zehao recruited retired, injured soldiers and organized them into a small unit. Those who could move were assigned to the construction.
Each person received money daily and was provided with meals. This not only eased the burden on their families but also allowed them to earn some income.
Moreover, for those who had been on the battlefield and became disabled, they couldn't be allowed to fall into despair. After the construction was completed, the results would be tallied based on the severity of their injuries, and Zhao Jiaqi would devise a plan for their disposal.
Building a city naturally required a significant amount of money. However, what surprised Fan Zehao was that not only was there no harvest on his fiefdom, but the royal estate also owed vast sums of money to various regions, which stunned him at the time.
The prefect of the inner city, holding the account books from the past few months, stood respectfully in the front hall of the royal estate, his head bowed, quietly awaiting the prince's lecture.
"Why are these account books only from the past half-year? Where are the older ones?" Fan Zehao asked the prefect of the inner city, Qian Lai, coldly.
He wasn't stupid. Was he supposed to believe whatever they said about the amount owed? That wouldn't do. If they wanted to treat him like a fool, they should at least ask if he agreed!
Qian Lai replied, "After the war, all the papers that had writing in the estate were burned by the enemy, not even ashes remained!"
What? Fan Zehao thought he misheard. He twitched his ears and found they were fine, meaning the speaker had a problem.
The account books were burned?
What was this called?
No witnesses, no proof?
The account books were burned to ashes, making it impossible for him to audit them, and then they expected him to cover the past debts?
How shameless!
He suppressed the anger in his chest. These people were very good; he had them all noted down.
"These are all ashes, how am I supposed to audit the accounts?"
Fan Zehao narrowed his eyes slightly and said coolly, "Since that's the case, there's nothing we can do. Go and tally up how much silver we owe, and write down the list and the amount owed clearly for my perusal!"
Qian Lai's ears twitched, and his eyeballs moved slightly. He immediately agreed, "Yes, I will tally it up when I return and present it to Your Highness tomorrow for review!"
Fan Zehao lowered his gaze. After a moment, he nodded and wearily instructed Qian Lai on the next matter, "Go and notify the other prefects, see if they have had similar experiences to yours. If so, compile a list and send them all over at the beginning of April. I will review them one by one. If the matters are verified, I will certainly not let them go!"
"Yes, your subject will definitely assist Your Highness!" Qian Lai's voice was a little louder this time.
If one listened carefully, there was a hint of joy and excitement in his voice. Although he hid it well, it was still heard by the sharp-eared Fan Zehao.
"You may withdraw!"
After the man left, Fan Zehao crushed the teacup in his hand. His eyes, filled with hatred, stared at Qian Lai's retreating back for a long time. If he hadn't been afraid of ruining the subsequent plan, he would have torn the man to shreds.
Zhao Jiaqi emerged from behind the screen and silently picked up the ceramic shards from his hand, saying expressionlessly, "You knew this would happen, why bother getting so worked up!"
"You heard it all. They're clearly trying to make a fool of me. How can I not be angry!" Fan Zehao, enraged, spoke with a hint of anger in his voice.
Zhao Jiaqi sat on another chair, drank the tea served by Qiufen, took a sip, and then said, "Getting angry is useless. Once you get the lists, you'll understand the tricks involved, and it will be easier to deal with them."
Since they had their stratagems, she had her countermeasures.
At the beginning of April, the five prefects arrived, each holding a thick book, which they placed one by one on the eight-immortal table beside the prince.
Zhao Jiaqi glanced at Qiufen, who understood her intention. She took the account books and handed them directly to the princess consort for examination.
Meanwhile, Fan Zehao chatted with these prefects. When he asked, their excuse was that the estate's account books had either been chewed by rats or burned by the enemy, leaving not even a trace.
He let out a cold laugh, his molars grinding together, and clenched his fists, the joints popping loudly. His furious appearance indeed startled these prefects.
Fan Zehao's cold gaze swept over Qian Lai. As expected, these prefects were colluding. What Zong Han had warned him about had come true.
Zhao Jiaqi briefly glanced at the submitted lists and could easily spot the discrepancies.
She casually picked up one book. The first page read "Jianzhou Prefecture." She looked at Feng Yan, "The amount owed by Jianzhou Prefecture alone is over seven million taels. I see most of it comes from the Li family!"
Feng Yan immediately replied, "Reporting to the Princess Consort, the Li family is a prominent household in Jianzhou Prefecture. When taxes couldn't be collected, it was the Li family that helped out. Moreover, in the past two years of war, tax collection was greatly reduced, but taxes still had to be paid to the imperial court, so..."
"So, the Li family covered this portion of the taxes!" Zhao Jiaqi finished his sentence for him.
Feng Yan lowered his eyes and nodded repeatedly, "That's essentially it!"
The Li family was one of the four great clans.
Zhao Jiaqi put down the list from Jianzhou Prefecture and casually picked up the next one, glancing at it. It was Qingjiang Prefecture.
"Prefect of Qingjiang, is your list similar to that of the Prefect of Jianzhou? Did the Liu family also offer you strong support?"
The Prefect of Qingjiang, Xiao Qinghe, nodded repeatedly and stammered, "Reporting to the Princess Consort, yes... yes, that's the situation."
Zhao Jiaqi now understood. The four great clans occupied the four prefectures.
The Li family of Jianzhou Prefecture, the Meng family of Songling Prefecture, the Liu family of Qingjiang Prefecture, and the Ji family of the Inner City Prefecture.
Only in Antai Prefecture, although the four great clans had businesses there, their names never appeared on the lists.
Zhao Jiaqi handed the list from Antai Prefecture to Fan Zehao, "Husband, this is the list from Antai Prefecture. The names and addresses on the list are very detailed. And I see that almost all of them are debts to the villagers for grain and seeds!"