Volume Two: The Great and the Small Chapter Forty-Three: A Token of Gratitude

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A densely written sheet of paper was pushed across the table by Huang Bingkun to Huang Ming. “Young Master Huang, please take a look. All of these are the confessions we obtained after days of intense interrogation of those people by the Embroidered Uniform Guard.”

Huang Ming smiled as he took the paper and glanced over it. After a moment, he said, “Judging by this, the raids on these brothels are well deserved. And it was the Ministry of Rites that orchestrated the whole thing. Look at the vile deeds they’ve been involved in—it's truly ironic.”

“Yes, who would have imagined that beneath the seemingly glamorous government-run brothels lay so many filthy and illegal activities? Many women even died from the torment inflicted upon them. These scoundrels are hardly worth pitying!” Huang Bingkun agreed, then added, “It’s all thanks to your sharp insight, Young Master Huang. If it weren’t for your keen eye, their true nature might never have been revealed.”

Huang Ming smiled faintly but there was a trace of bitterness in his expression.

This wasn’t a matter of unique insight—it was simply that he was bold enough to act without the usual reservations others had.

In truth, any normal person could have guessed that such brothels harbored countless unspeakable horrors.

Even in later eras, those nations that prided themselves on civilization but still kept their red lanterns lit were riddled with darkness—let alone the world centuries ago.

But for now, this was all he could do; ultimately, it was but a drop in the ocean.

Gathering his composure, Huang Ming took out a silver note and pushed it to the other man. “This is the other half of the hard-earned money. Distribute it to the brothers below; at least it’ll help them get through the immediate difficulties. Also, after this matter is handled, you must not only manage it yourself but also send all the witness testimonies and confessions to the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate. You understand what I mean, right?”

“I understand, sir. This way, the Ministry of Rites won’t be able to twist the truth,” Huang Bingkun nodded, then thanked Huang Ming before pocketing the five-thousand tael note.

Since this money came collectively from the Twelve Brothels, there was no need for him to be overly polite with Young Master Huang.

“By the way, there’s another matter closely related to you,” he suddenly recalled and hurriedly said.

“What? Has there been a breakthrough regarding Liao Kui?” Huang Ming’s spirits lifted.

He cared a great deal about the man who once tried to take his life, keeping him firmly in mind.

“Not exactly,” Huang Bingkun said with a flush. “The investigation is ongoing. Our men have already gone to Liao Kui’s hometown to dig into his crimes from there.”

After all, Liao Kui was different from those government-run brothels. He wasn’t someone Huang Ming or even the Embroidered Uniform Guard could deal with easily. They needed to confirm other offenses before making a move.

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But evidently, this Censor from the Censorate, though ruthless, was well versed in self-preservation. The Embroidered Uniform Guard couldn’t find anything against him, so they had to send more men to his hometown for a thorough investigation.

Huang Ming sighed. “If there’s really no way, then forget it for now. We can deal with him later.”

He paused, then remembered, “By the way, what is the matter related to me?”

“There’s news from the palace. The Dean of the National Academy is about to be replaced. Wu Yipeng will be relieved from this post and only serve as Vice Minister of Rites,” Huang Bingkun quickly reported.

Huang Ming smiled and nodded—this was actually expected, nothing surprising.

He had deliberately spread rumors that Wu Yipeng was unfit as Dean of the National Academy to align with the petitions and complaints from the scholars and students, creating a larger public outcry.

Coupled with Emperor Jiajing’s unfavorable view of the Ministry of Rites, they had more than an 80 percent chance of success from the start.

After all, the Ministry of Rites had played the vanguard role in Jiajing’s attempt to enshrine his father in the Imperial Ancestral Temple.

Naturally, this made the emperor resentful and dissatisfied with the entire Ministry. Given the opportunity, he would vent his anger.

It could be said that Wu Yipeng was taking the fall for the entire Ministry of Rites.

Of course, this outcome was quite favorable for Huang Ming; at least no one would dare to pressure the National Academy to target him anymore.

The two chatted casually for a while longer. As Huang Bingkun prepared to take his leave, Huang Zhong reported, “Young Master, Zhao Jian, the owner of Zhao’s establishment, is here seeking an audience.”

“Hmm? He suddenly shows up at this hour… Could something have happened again?” Huang Ming glanced at the darkening sky outside, feeling somewhat surprised.

But since he was already at the door, there was no avoiding him. He nodded, “Bring him in. Huang Baihu, let’s meet him together and see what he has to say.”

Before long, a beaming Zhao Jian was led into the parlor, while several others lingered outside—no one knew their affiliations.

Seeing Zhao’s cheerful demeanor, Huang Ming relaxed somewhat. “Zhao, you must be here because of some good news, right? But aren’t you worried about being caught for breaking curfew on your way back by the night patrols?”

“Haha, Young Master Huang, you jest...” Zhao Jian casually replied, then curiously asked, “What good news do you have, sir?”

Huang Ming glanced at Huang Bingkun, then handed over the paper. “Here, this is it. You arrived just in time to see it. Also, take this as a lesson going forward.”

Zhao Jian took the paper and quickly scanned it. His expression shifted slightly before he smiled again. “So you and your men at the Embroidered Uniform Guard have already unraveled everything. Truly impressive—I’m in awe.”

“Well said, well said,” Huang Bingkun replied casually. Compared to how he spoke with Huang Ming, he was less accommodating with these people.

Zhao Jian laughed again, then cupped his hands toward Huang Ming. “Indeed, today is a day of great joy. You might not know, but since the Dragon Boat Festival, our various establishments’ business has increased by at least thirty percent. And those who tip the courtesans have doubled in number...”

One had to admit, as the capital of the Ming, Beijing had far more wealthy patrons than expected, and they were willing to spend.

Huang Ming merely smiled. “That’s only natural—after all, the other brothels have all been shut down.”

“This is all thanks to your brilliant strategy, Young Master Huang, not to mention the efforts of the Embroidered Uniform Guard,” Zhao Jian said, then bowed toward Huang Ming. “So today I’ve come specially to offer you a small token of gratitude.”

“A gift of thanks? You’re too polite, and there’s no need to come all the way here at night,” Huang Ming laughed, waving his hand, not refusing.

“You don’t know, sir; this gift is different from the usual kind. That’s why it had to be delivered discreetly.”

“Oh? What kind of gift?” Huang Ming’s curiosity was piqued.

“Come!” Zhao Jian clapped his hands, signaling the three men waiting outside to enter.

Two men dressed as servants, their entire bodies cloaked, faces completely hidden, stepped into the parlor and stood before Huang Ming.

“Young Master Huang, this is the token of gratitude the Twelve Brothels have prepared together for you.”