Chapter 6

The position of the Inspector of Education, a fifth-rank official, might not seem too significant, with higher ranks such as fourth-rank, third-rank, and so on above it.

The Inspector of Education has no troops under his command, no authority over official appointments, and seems to have little power.

In modern terms, he is essentially the provincial education commissioner.

But what does the scholarly title that makes scholars like Ding Yi too formidable for ruffians to easily attack mean?

A scholar, by the standards of the Nationalist period, is roughly equivalent to a high school graduate. What is high school? It's the higher grades of primary school.

With this conversion, the situation becomes clear.

The mastermind behind the scenes is at least a provincial education commissioner, while Ding Yi is just a primary school student.

Moreover, Ding Yi's old friends have cut ties with him, his reputation in the village is ruined, and even his servants have left. The Feng family's security company has stopped transporting goods to the Ding family's cargo yard, and the family business is on the verge of collapse...

Ding Yi felt as if his head was splitting.

No matter how skilled he was in martial arts, how sharp his reasoning, or how adept he was at reading expressions, in the face of such overwhelming power, it all amounted to nothing.

Could Ding Yi infiltrate the Inspector of Education's office and assassinate the Huang Xue Xian?

Not to mention whether the weakened and frail Ding Yi could even accomplish this. Even if he did, what would be the point?

There was a question that had to be addressed:

What was the purpose of a provincial Inspector of Education, also known as Xue Xian, sending someone to infiltrate a powerful eunuch?

This was absurd. A censor might risk his life to expose a powerful eunuch, and a provincial governor might clash with a eunuch over interests, such as tax and mining supervisors interfering with local administration. Higher up, the Grand Secretaries, who could be called prime ministers, might target a powerful eunuch due to conflicts between the outer and inner courts...

But what reason would an Inspector of Education have to oppose a eunuch, and to the point of using a dead spy?

This was a ridiculous notion, whether in ancient or modern times. The education commissioner of Indiana, USA, visiting a primary school in China would be normal, but him sending a dead spy to the FBI to bring down a high-ranking official there? It made no sense.

Ding Yi was certain that this Huang Xue Xian was not the mastermind behind the scenes!

As for who was orchestrating this, it was not something Ding Yi was concerned with at the moment.

He lacked the information and resources to investigate and analyze the matter, and more importantly, he lacked the time.

"Master, it's all taken care of," Uncle Zhong said, approaching Ding Yi, who was slowly pacing in the garden. "But those servants wanted to see you one last time before they left. I refused them." Uncle Zhong no longer tested Ding Yi's abilities; he simply did what needed to be done.

These servants wanted to see Ding Yi, either out of gratitude for the money or to accuse the old steward and Ruyu of embezzlement. As Ding Yi had said, there was no time for such heart-warming gestures, so Uncle Zhong refused their requests.

"Who is the powerful eunuch?" Ding Yi asked Uncle Zhong out of the blue.

Uncle Zhong replied with a carefree tone, "Who knows? Master, you ask me, but who should I ask?"

The master and servant couldn't help but exchange a bitter smile.

What a mess!

Uncle Zhong coughed a few times and said to Ding Yi, "This letter, unsigned, without a seal, who knows who it's from? You showed it to me a few days ago, and I've been thinking about it for days, but I can't recall Father ever knowing such a person!"

He then pulled out a letter from his robe and handed it to Ding Yi.

The dark blue envelope bore only six silver characters: "To Cousin Rujin, with affection."

The handwriting was beautiful, but a fragment of Ding Yi's memory was skeptical: "Just the style of the imperial court!" Ding Yi didn't know what the style of the imperial court was, and he couldn't ask the fragmented memories of the previous Ding Scholar, so he ignored the voice and continued reading the letter.

The letter was written on plain white silk paper and read:

The writer and Ding Scholar's father were fellow townspeople and had a close friendship twenty years ago, though the exact date was unclear—because the letter only said, "After twenty years, I still cherish our old friendship." Whether it was exactly twenty years, who knew? In any case, the writer now greatly missed Ding Yi's father, as he could no longer find a true friend like him.

The writer then mentioned that he lacked a trustworthy confidant and hoped that Ding Yi could come to the capital to help him. If Ding Yi agreed, he should stay at the Yuelai Inn in the capital, and someone would come to guide him.

The letter ended there, with no signature, date, or seal.

Uncle Zhong smiled bitterly and said, "I've served Master for over thirty years, and the only thing I'm proud of is that Master had friends all over the world. But I can't recall Father ever knowing such a person twenty years ago..."

At this moment, Ruyu brought tea and pouted, "Isn't this just a letter from one of Father's old friends? I wonder what those scoundrels have fabricated about a powerful eunuch, trying to frame my Master..."

Ding Yi shook his head. Despite his lack of connection to this era, his past experience allowed him to keenly point out the key issue: "You're wrong. They must have said the letter was from a powerful eunuch because the messenger might have slipped up, and the paper confirmed their suspicions."

Uncle Zhong looked at Ding Yi as if he had seen a ghost, took a few steps back, and leaned against a table to steady himself. He raised a trembling hand toward Ding Yi, "Master, how did you know?" The messenger had come when Ding Yi was attending a literary gathering, and Uncle Zhong had received him.

So how did Ding Yi know? As for the paper, it was even more baffling. If Ding Yi were a fifty or sixty-year-old scholar who had traveled the world, or a scholar who had given up on the imperial exams and worked in an antique shop for years, it might have made sense.

But an eighteen-year-old scholar, how could he know such things?

This shocked Uncle Zhong more than when Ding Yi had casually accused the servants of embezzlement. This was not just intelligence.

Without hesitation, Uncle Zhong grabbed Ding Yi's hand and examined him from head to toe. After a while, he asked, "Master, do you know what's wrong with the paper?"

Ding Yi shrugged, "I don't know, but this paper must be different from what ordinary scholars use, otherwise, Peng Zhang and his group wouldn't have confirmed their suspicions." In the morning, Ding Yi had followed Peng Zhang and visited several stationery shops in Rongcheng, and he had never seen such paper.

Uncle Zhong sighed deeply. Ding Yi's answer reassured him. If Ding Yi had known about the paper, Uncle Zhong might have considered inviting some monks or Taoist priests to perform rituals! But he still straightened his hunched back and shook his head, "I've roamed the world for forty years, met countless people, from those who wielded a sword that chilled twenty-four states to those who passed the imperial exams at a young age, but I've never seen anyone as cunning as you..."

"Me?" Ding Yi raised an eyebrow. Despite Uncle Zhong's low voice, Ding Yi had heard most of it.

This was inconsistent with Uncle Zhong's usual demeanor of calling himself a humble servant!

But when Ding Yi looked up, Uncle Zhong was still the hunched old steward, his face deeply lined, looking harmless and respectful, with concern and earnestness in his eyes: "Master, the problem is indeed with the paper. This plain white silk paper, though rare in Rongcheng, is not uncommon and can be bought at better stationery shops. But the paper used for the envelope is not something found in the civilian world."

The envelope was a color similar to blue-and-white porcelain, which Ding Yi hadn't noticed at first, finding the plain white silk paper quite elegant and refined. As for the dark blue envelope and silver characters, he hadn't paid much attention, having seen many gold-embossed invitations in his past life.

"Is this paper expensive?" Ding Yi asked, not hiding his ignorance. It was better to learn about things he didn't understand in this era rather than pretend to know everything, which would only hinder his integration.

Uncle Zhong nodded solemnly, "It's not just expensive; it's something you can't buy, even if you have the money. It's only found in the palace."

In fact, if Ding Yi had been a history enthusiast in his past life, he would have known that even a hundred years later, during the Wanli period, when a silver coin could buy a pound of flour, a sheet of blue porcelain paper could cost two to three silver coins. Even more so, since it was only a few years after the invention of blue porcelain paper during the Xuande period, Uncle Zhong was right in saying it was unobtainable.

Why use such precious blue porcelain paper for the envelope but ordinary white silk paper for the letter?

Ding Yi thought for a moment and found the answer.

This old friend was trying to convey a message: even if his external status was as precious as blue porcelain paper, his friendship with Ding Father remained as simple and sincere as the plain white paper.

"It seems he is a true friend," Ding Yi said, putting the letter away and handing it back to Uncle Zhong. He then asked, "Uncle Zhong, you can't remember this person, and no one in Rongcheng knows his background?" Since they were said to be fellow townspeople, it was strange that no one knew about a powerful eunuch from their hometown. This didn't make sense.

Note: Many articles online cite "Wanshu Zaji" stating that a sheet of blue porcelain paper was worth one silver coin, but none provide a source.

The author found this inconsistent with his memory and rechecked the Ming dynasty notes. Indeed, in "Wanshu Zaji" Volume 14, "Expenses of the Palace," it states: "For the imperial edicts and other documents... three pounds of flour, three silver coins; six hundred sheets of yellow paper, eight silver coins and four fen; a batch of yellow paper, one silver coin and six fen; nine sheets of blue porcelain paper, twenty-two silver coins and five fen..."

PS: Thank you all for your support. Since the book's release, it has been without recommendations, but thanks to your efforts, it has finally appeared on the "New Books by Historical Authors" list. I'm truly moved! Let's keep it up and see if we can climb higher on the overall new books list. Keep voting and supporting!