Stepping slowly into the throne hall, Du Cheng sensed every eye turn toward him.
The palace was draped in dark teal, its crystal ceiling soaring over ten meters high. Over a hundred nobles and ministers stood in two lines along the sides, and opposite the main doors were two thrones. On the left sat Godfather Ferdinand; on the right, an unremarkable-looking middle‑aged man in teal royal robes and a golden crown—King Balgna of Lan Ning.
At the king’s side stood two others: one a young man whose flushed face betrayed his indulgence in wine and women, the other—and this gave Du Cheng a headache—Princess Yuna.
Princess Yuna had been inviting Du Cheng to banquets again and again, but he dared not accept and politely declined every time. To his surprise, her curiosity only grew, and she even came to his residence in person on several occasions. Du Cheng wished he could change his name and hide from her.
Under Yuna’s triumphant “Ah—you’ve finally arrived!” glare, Du Cheng strode forward, bowed with neither arrogance nor servility, and announced, “Descendant of Sigru, Francis Du Cheng pays respects to His Majesty King Balgna and Godfather Ferdinand!”
“Very good,” Balgna praised. “I’ve heard many speak of you as the ‘Virtue of St. John’s City.’ Yuna often mentions your name.” He turned to Ferdinand. “Godfather, since Francis has your blessing, please explain.”
Ferdinand inclined his head and said in a grave tone, “Francis, as you know, the Imperial Minister of Finance and his entire family were assassinated by agents of the McCallen Empire. Though they are dead, their debts to the Empire remain. A portion of those ‘atonement funds’ owed you by Minister Fris will be drawn from his estate. Our council is now deciding how much you shall receive.”
Though his words sounded grand, everyone present understood that the finance minister’s estate was a huge cake—and everyone wanted a slice. But before anyone else could claim their share, Du Cheng had to take his bite first. How large his initial share would be was now every minister’s concern.
Du Cheng knew that without Ferdinand’s backing, he wouldn’t see a single copper coin—but he had that support, and he smiled confidently. “Godfather, I have two questions. First: what is the total size of the estate? Second: how does the Codex of the Holy Faith prescribe the amount of atonement funds?”
Ferdinand smiled back. “All together, the estate amounts to roughly ten thousand gold coins.”
A thrill shot through Du Cheng’s heart. By his calculations, a silver coin bore the purchasing power of about one hundred yuan in his past life, and a hundred silver equaled one gold—so ten thousand gold… a fortune measured in the billions! He remained composed, however, earning a fresh look of respect from the ministers.
Ferdinand, pleased with Du Cheng’s poise, continued, “According to the Codex, atonement funds are set by two criteria: first, the status of the parties involved; second…” He rattled through many legal clauses, but Du Cheng’s ears perked up at the conclusion: “You are entitled to thirty percent—that is, three thousand gold coins.”
Du Cheng’s pulse quickened—roughly thirty million yuan in today’s terms—but before he could celebrate, a battle‑worn general in the front row bellowed, “Impossible! Three thousand gold could equip an entire elite legion. I need those coins to bolster the capital’s security!”
(Thoughtfully, Du Cheng wondered whether that would buy dozens of beautiful concubines instead.)
Steve leaned over and whispered, “That’s General Kirisek, commander of the Saint Boven Legion.”
Another minister shouted, “No—these funds should go toward disaster relief!” Instantly the hall erupted, as if the gold were already theirs.
“Silence! Would you defy the Codex of the Holy Faith?” Ferdinand thundered.
“Godfather, we dare not break the law,” came the hesitant reply, “but the Empire’s coffers are bare—we need gold!”
Ferdinand’s gaze settled on Du Cheng. “Francis, your opinion?” His cool stare warned Du Cheng that these bureaucrats would not back down, and that Ferdinand might need to intervene more forcefully—perhaps to curry favor with the mysterious Fighting God who supported Du Cheng.
With that thought, Ferdinand rose, stepped over, and gently placed his hand on Du Cheng’s forehead. “Speak freely. I am Ferdinand; this is my third blessing upon you!”
The hall fell silent; none of the ministers dared meet Ferdinand’s glare.
Du Cheng felt a surge of confidence. He smiled and said, “I believe the Codex of the Holy Faith must be upheld.”
By implication, the three thousand gold were his alone. A few ministers scoffed, but with Ferdinand’s support, no one dared openly defy the Holy Faith. Yet these seasoned officials would not be so easily stymied.
The elderly minister who had demanded disaster relief approached. His sly smile betrayed his intent. “Dear Francis, your devotion to the Codex is admirable; I support you. And indeed, the three thousand gold should be yours.”
Du Cheng returned his smile, knowing this was only the prelude.
“I’ve heard you are called the ‘Virtue of St. John’s City,’ praised by all,” the old minister bowed deeply. “On behalf of the flood victims in the South, I ask you to donate part of those coins.”
He had made his pitch; Kirisek the general quickly picked up the thread. “Nephew Francis, born of a military family, you must think of the Empire’s soldiers…”
One by one, ministers—including Anjes—offered lofty reasons for Du Cheng to hand over his gold, each hoping he’d swallow the coins and then disgorge them to their favored causes.
Ferdinand remained silent, watching Du Cheng’s every move. Perhaps it was a test.
Du Cheng listened politely without offending anyone, yet inwardly he was stumped. These ministers clearly wouldn’t leave him a single copper coin, and their earnest appeals were irrefutable.
He had to keep the gold in his own hands—without making enemies.
What to do?
He would take the money himself, then find a scapegoat.
Du Cheng turned his gaze to King Balgna. “Your Majesty, you called me the ‘Virtue of St. John’s City.’ I am deeply honored, yet my true intent in requesting these coins was to help the poor.” He bent deeply in a formal bow. “May I ask Your Majesty to join me in aiding those in need?”
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