Early the next morning, Huang Jin was still in the palace, attending to Emperor Jiajing as he enjoyed his breakfast. Seeing the emperor finish a whole bowl of fragrant rice with six side dishes and then drink a large bowl of chicken and crispy pancake soup, Huang Jin couldn’t help but feel genuinely delighted.
This time, it was all thanks to little Lord Zhu. Ever since the Suzhou victory report came in, His Majesty’s appetite had noticeably improved.
“The taste is good, Huang Ban. Follow the protocol and give the imperial kitchen a suitable reward or two,” Emperor Jiajing said with satisfaction after finishing his meal.
“As you command,” Huang Jin bowed and accepted the order.
“Speaking of which, ever since we switched the imperial meals from the Court of Imperial Entertainments to the imperial kitchen, the overall quality of the food has improved significantly,” Emperor Jiajing remarked slowly.
Indeed, in the early Ming Dynasty, imperial meals were initially provided by the Court of Imperial Entertainments. Back then, the court handled imperial meals and banquets, holding a prominent position among the capital’s various offices—undoubtedly one of the “lesser nine ministers” at the time.
In those days, the Court of Imperial Entertainments was a lucrative post. Just considering the meals and banquets, the court was allocated a staggering ten thousand head of livestock annually—five thousand in the first half of the year and five thousand in the second. Naturally, the palace couldn’t consume all of it, and the leftovers went straight to the court’s officials.
So why was the task of imperial meals shifted from the Court of Imperial Entertainments to the palace’s imperial kitchen?
Simple—the food from the Court of Imperial Entertainments was awful and showed no improvement, so Emperor Jiajing had it moved to the imperial kitchen instead.
“Heh, Your Majesty, speaking of the Court of Imperial Entertainments, they’re one of the four famously unreliable entities circulating among the capital’s folk,” Huang Jin said with a smile, recalling the rumours.
“Oh? What are these four unreliable things?” Huang Jin’s comment successfully piqued Emperor Jiajing’s curiosity.
“Your Majesty, the four unreliable things are: the essays of the Hanlin Academy, the weapons of the Armoury Bureau, the tea soup of the Court of Imperial Entertainments, and the prescriptions of the Imperial Academy of Medicine. Heh, it’s not to be taken seriously—just idle jests from ignorant commoners,” Huang Jin replied, bowing.
“Hah, though it’s jest, there’s some truth to it. The Hanlin Academy’s essays—many are too lofty and impractical. The Armoury Bureau’s been slacking too; reports from the Nine Frontiers say their weapons aren’t as good as they used to be and are falling out of use. As for the Court of Imperial Entertainments’ tea soup, just hearing about it now kills my appetite. They only knew how to pile on fish and meat, drowning it in pepper and spices, with no regard for taste—either too salty, too sour, too greasy, or reeking of seasoning. Utter waste. And the Imperial Academy of Medicine? Most of its physicians inherit their posts. The idea was that medical skills would pass down, experience would build, and each generation would outdo the last. But what’s the result? Each generation’s worse than the one before—lacking experience and skill. They can’t cure big illnesses, and they botch the small ones…” Emperor Jiajing couldn’t help but vent.
“These chronic problems—once I free up my hands, I’ll have to sort them out properly,” he concluded firmly.
Huang Jin stayed silent, bowing as he handed Emperor Jiajing a warm, damp cloth to wipe his hands.
In truth, he’d deliberately steered the conversation here.
They say serving a ruler is like serving a tiger, and after decades at the emperor’s side, Huang Jin had honed his instincts to know exactly what to say and what to avoid—it was ingrained in him. Every word he spoke was carefully considered, never careless.
He’d guided the topic here for three reasons. First, the imperial kitchen was currently under the control of their Eunuch Directorate. By dragging up the Court of Imperial Entertainments’ past “achievements” as a foil, he could better justify rewarding the imperial kitchen—and rewarding the kitchen meant rewarding the Directorate, which reflected well on him, Huang Jin. In the palace’s inner court, competition was no less fierce than in the outer court—stagnation meant falling behind. Second, it was a chance to strike at a rival—the eunuch overseeing the Imperial Academy of Medicine was his competitor. Third, it was a warning to the Armoury Bureau. They’d been utterly deplorable lately—not only were their weapons shoddy, but deliveries to the border garrisons were short-weighted. One of his adopted sons, serving as a military overseer in Datong, had secretly reported this, saying he’d personally witnessed a cannon from the Armoury Bureau explode after just three shots, killing their own gunners instead of the enemy Tartars.
Soldiers heading into battle without decent weapons—how was that acceptable? They were already outmatched, and now their gear was subpar too. That was just begging for defeat. And if they lost, His Majesty would be furious again. Who could bear the blame if the dragon’s health suffered?
If every frontier could win battles daily like little Lord Zhu, His Majesty would be in high spirits every day.
A smile a day keeps ten years at bay!
If His Majesty were in a good mood daily, would he still need to toil so hard at cultivating and taking elixirs?
That’s why Huang Jin had seized the moment to steer the conversation.
After finishing breakfast, Emperor Jiajing began his daily routine of meditation and cultivation. Huang Jin tactfully retreated from the hall.
No sooner had Huang Jin stepped out than he saw his subordinate, the East Factory’s shift leader eunuch, waiting respectfully outside, looking urgent.
“Little Ning, didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on the Ministry of Justice, the Censorate, and the Court of Judicial Review as they interrogate and verify the Suzhou captives and heads?! His Majesty wants results in three days, and today’s the second day—the most critical one. Why aren’t you there watching? What are you doing here?” Huang Jin asked, staring at him with displeasure.
“Reporting to the Chief, it’s about this case—I’ve got urgent news,” Eunuch Ning replied, bowing.
“Oh? What’s the urgent news?” Huang Jin asked.
“Chief, this morning, just as I reached the prison, Vice Minister Zhang from the Ministry of Justice and Deputy Chief Liu from the Court of Judicial Review came looking for me,” Eunuch Ning reported.
Huang Jin frowned at the mention of Vice Minister Zhang and Deputy Chief Liu seeking Eunuch Ning.
Both were part of the Yan faction, and it was no secret that the Yan faction was at odds with little Lord Zhu. Back when Zhu had advised Yang Jisheng on his impeachment of Yan Song, he’d offended them and been banished to a remote county in Jiangnan. Who’d have thought Zhu would bounce back so quickly after that?
Now, with Zhu achieving such a staggering feat, the Yan faction surely wouldn’t sit idly by and watch him reap the rewards.
Their seeking out little Ning was obviously up to no good.
“I told you—His Majesty’s watching this case. It must be handled impartially, with no one allowed to meddle,” Huang Jin interrupted sternly.
“I’ve never disobeyed a single word of your orders, Chief. They came to me saying that after yesterday’s interrogation and verification, they’ve concluded the Suzhou victory is beyond doubt—no falsehoods—and they’re requesting a swift closure to report the findings to His Majesty,” Eunuch Ning hurriedly explained.
“Oh?” Huang Jin was mildly surprised. “What’s the Censorate’s stance?”
“The Censorate followed up with agreement—the Suzhou report holds true,” Eunuch Ning replied.
Huang Jin pondered briefly, unsure what they were playing at, but this was good news—there was no reason to refuse.
“What were your findings from yesterday’s interrogation?” Huang Jin asked.
“The captives are genuine, their statements corroborate the Suzhou report, and the heads are authentic too. We’ve preliminarily concluded the Suzhou victory is real,” Eunuch Ning reported.
“Good. Then close the case accordingly. Draft the document quickly, get all four seals, and submit it for review,” Huang Jin instructed.
“Yes, sir,” Eunuch Ning acknowledged.
“Wait—the document should state it’s a preliminary conclusion, pending the final report from the factory guards sent to Suzhou for on-site investigation,” Huang Jin called after him, adding one last instruction.
“Understood, Chief,” Eunuch Ning replied before departing.
