The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 340

The evidence was irrefutable, and the perpetrator was none other than Zong Zhao.

With almost no room for dispute, Fan Ding was escorted to the Dali Temple. Having navigated the political arena for decades, he still maintained his dignified demeanor, clad in luxurious robes as he sat in the prisoner’s cart.

The onlooking citizens didn’t know the full story, but the spectacle suggested a high-ranking official had fallen from grace. Though they didn’t recognize who it was, they couldn’t help but feel a sense of vindication.

A corrupt official’s downfall was a blessing for the people.

Following behind was a carriage from the General’s residence.

Zong Jincheng pestered Zong Zhao with questions: "Father, how did you uncover that Fan Ding was the mastermind? Logically, shouldn’t the former chancellors—the direct beneficiaries—be the prime suspects?"

Zong ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‍Zhao countered with a question of his own: "Is that the only way to approach it?"

The little troublemaker blinked in confusion.

Zong Wenxiu added, "Those with personal grudges are also worth investigating. Fan Ding clearly had a feud with my maternal grandfather—there was direct animosity between them."

Zong Jincheng dismissed the idea without hesitation: "But your grandfather offended way too many people. Searching in that direction is like fishing for a needle in the ocean."

Zong Wenxiu: "…" Fair point.

Chancellor Yan governed officials with harsh laws, and over the years, he had managed to antagonize nearly every bureaucrat in the court, high and low.

Xu Wan picked up where Zong Jincheng left off, asking Zong Zhao, "So, those two months you spent leaving early and returning late—you were investigating every lead in this direction?"

Zong Zhao met her gaze and replied, "Not entirely. Along the way, I also uncovered other officials’ violations. That’s why I wanted this ledger from Fan Ding."

He raised the small booklet and asked the two boys, "Want to see it?"

Zong Jincheng and Zong Wenxiu nodded eagerly. "Yes!"

Zong Zhao moved to hand it over, but Xu Wan suddenly stopped him.

Her hand pressed down on his as she asked cautiously, "Should they really see this?" Would it be dangerous?

Zong Zhao glanced at her hand, tense as if he wanted to pull away, but he held still. Meeting her eyes, he said firmly, "It’s fine. I’ll present it to the Emperor."

If the ledger remained solely in their hands, unseen by the Emperor, there might indeed be risks. But once the Emperor reviewed it—whether he punished the corrupt officials or not—those implicated would be powerless to retaliate.

Xu Wan still didn’t release his hand. Instead, her grip tightened as she pressed further, "Will the Emperor punish these officials?"

Zong Zhao’s voice dropped low. "No."

Xu Wan: "…"

You know the Emperor a little too well.

The two brothers erupted in protest. Zong Wenxiu exclaimed, "But these officials are all corrupt! Why wouldn’t the Emperor punish them?"

Zong Jincheng already knew the answer.

It was about maintaining stability—about the Emperor’s fear of disrupting imperial authority. Again, the same old reason.

Zong Jincheng asked, "Father, won’t the Emperor punish them secretly? Like denying promotions or reassignments?"

Zong Zhao shook his head again. "No. Even if the risk of exposure is minimal, he won’t take the chance."

"Ah… how can that be?" Zong Jincheng was baffled. This contradicted what the Crown Prince had taught him.

Hadn’t he said rulers could use tactics like nominal promotions with real demotions, transfers, or even covert eliminations to deal with corrupt officials?

How could the Emperor do nothing at all?

Zong Zhao studied the confusion in the boy’s eyes, which also flickered with stubborn conviction—a contradiction of doubt, defiance, and discontent.

Finally, he amended his words: "Perhaps next year."

"Next year?" Zong Jincheng tilted his head, puzzled. "Why next year? Will the Emperor suddenly act against them then?"

"Yes," Zong Zhao said, looking at him. "He will."

Xu Wan understood the meaning behind that gaze.

Her hand trembled slightly. Suddenly, she felt she shouldn’t know too much—shouldn’t grasp the implications of Zong Zhao’s words, shouldn’t foresee what was to come.

She released his hand and withdrew from the matter of the ledger. She expected Zong Zhao to proceed in handing it over, but to her surprise, even without her interference, he still retracted it.

Zong Jincheng and Zong Wenxiu were instantly crestfallen. Zong Jincheng whined, "Father, I want to see it…"

Zong Wenxiu also wanted to, but he didn’t dare speak up.

Zong Zhao tucked the booklet away and said calmly, "Next year isn’t too late."

Zong Jincheng groaned in frustration and deployed his most potent weapon—sweet-talking. "Father, don’t be like this! You were about to show us earlier, and Mother isn’t stopping you now. Don’t keep it to yourself! Let us take a look too. We promise not to tell a soul!"

Zong Zhao closed his eyes, feigning sleep, unmoved.

Zong Jincheng scooted closer, wheedling, "Father, my dearest, most wonderful father in the world—you love me best, don’t you? Just one peek? We need to know who to watch out for! What if someone on this list tries to send their kid to our household? If Mother unknowingly accepts them, wouldn’t we be implicated?"

Xu Wan, suddenly dragged into this, kicked at him. "What nonsense! Am I the type to just take in random children?"

"Oh, no, no!" Zong Jincheng backtracked hastily. "I meant—what if some scheming noblewoman tries to cozy up to you at a banquet? I could warn you to keep your distance! Otherwise, they might frame us for corruption!"

Xu Wan scoffed. "Given how wealthy our family is, how much would they even need to plant on you for such an accusation to stick?"

Zong Jincheng: "…" Fair point.

Frustrated, he turned back to Zong Zhao, resorting to theatrics. "Father, a man of your word shouldn’t take back what he offers! Just one look, and Brother and I will forgive you this once!"

Xu Wan covered her face, laughing. When sweet talk failed, the little rascal switched to emotional blackmail.

Zong Wenxiu, mortified, tugged at his brother’s sleeve, silently begging him to stop.

But Zong Jincheng wasn’t done.

Without opening his eyes, Zong Zhao remarked, "You seem energetic. How about martial training? You could balance both studies and combat."

Zong Jincheng: "!!!"

His grip on his father’s arm slackened instantly.

"Father, are you serious?" he gasped. "The imperial exams are coming up! If I split my focus now, I’ll definitely fail!"

Zong Zhao opened one eye and said, "No need to split focus. You can read while in a horse stance, recite texts during drills, compose poetry while sword dancing, and ponder essay topics while archery practice."

Zong Jincheng: "…………"

Father, I’m human, not a plow ox.

Even overworked cattle have it easier than this.

Zong Zhao pressed, "Sure you don’t want to train? Then you won’t need Buyan to fight for you anymore."

Zong Jincheng inched backward, grinning nervously. "Father, you’re joking! I’m a scholar now, not a troublemaker. I don’t pick fights—at most, we engage in literary duels. Besides, Buyan’s got my back! He’s an expert at brawling, especially with benches. One swing, one broken head—it’s exhilarating! I’d much rather let him handle the rough stuff!"