Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Chapter 108: Pull Me into the Fire Pit? In Your Dreams

The next day, Reader Guo summoned several newly appointed officials, including Su Ming, to his private office. Su Ming stood quietly among them, wearing the teal heron-embroidered robe that signified a regular seventh-rank compiler.

Reader Guo’s gaze scanned the group, finally resting on Qian Bin.

Qian Bin had a roundabout connection to the Yongchang Marquis Manor and had always been more active within the academy.

Reader Guo tossed a rusted bronze key to Qian Bin.

“The Ministry of War is pressing. With the northern border conflict, we need to review all previous dynastic files related to the Heirong,” Reader Guo said, his tone brooking no argument.

“Qian Bin, you will lead this. The rest of you—assist Compiler Qian. Within five days, pull every piece of information from the underground archives related to the Heirong: geography, armaments, battle records, customs, and tribal origins. Categorize everything and compile it into volumes. The Ministry of War will come to collect.”

The assignment was heavy and tedious, and the conditions were harsh.

But the words “you will lead” made a flash of pride cross Qian Bin’s face. He bowed immediately, “I accept the order, I will not fail your trust, my lord!”

Su Ming and the others bowed in unison, their faces betraying no emotion.

They pushed open the wooden door to the underground archives and a fetid, dust-laden air hit them.The others immediately frowned.

Qian Bin cleared his throat and took on the airs of the leader: “Gentlemen, this is urgent military business. A few days of hard work is as it should be. Li bro, Wang bro, you take the two rows on the east; Zhang bro, Zhao bro, the rows on the west are yours.”

Only then did he look at Su Ming and casually point, “Compiler Su, you’ll have the harder lot. Take the innermost rows and those scattered boxes in the corners. I’ll handle the final compilation.”

He handed Su Ming the messiest, dustiest section and claimed for himself the comparatively pleasant task of compiling the final report—the task that would let him appear before the Ministry of War.

Su Ming showed no displeasure. Instead he offered a gentle, almost timid smile and cupped his hands, “As Brother Qian arranges, I will obey.”

His submissive demeanor pleased Qian Bin even more. He nodded with satisfaction and found himself a relatively clean spot to begin his “supervision.”

Su Ming silently walked toward the corner of the shelves.

This place was the Hanlin Academy’s graveyard, where all forgotten knowledge was piled up.

But for Su Ming, it was a treasury.

He did not start rummaging right away. He first circled the towering bookshelves.

His spirit-sense quietly spread out.

Every scroll’s position, material, age—each formed a three-dimensional image in his mind.

“Disciple, show them a trick! Let them see what a mover of knowledge looks like… no, the master of knowledge!” Lin Yu rubbed his hands excitedly.

Though Su Ming appeared to clumsily search and move dust-covered records, the instant he touched a volume its contents flooded into his mind like running water.

Qian Bin put on performances of command in other sections while the others loafed and complained.

Su Ming, however, absorbed the sealed knowledge.

He accurately pulled useful scrolls from the mountain of waste paper.

General Li Muyun’s Northern Expedition Notes contained detailed records of the Heirong tribes’ distribution and troop strengths.

An anonymous clerk’s Northern Ironworks Survey documented the Heirong tribes’ weapon-smelting techniques and mine locations.

A moth-eaten sheepskin map, partially ruined, bore ancient script marking secret desert trade routes and water sources.

There were also unofficial chronicles about the century-old enmity between the three major clans within the Heirong—the Golden Wolves, the Silver Wolves, and the Blue Wolves…

These fragmented, messy, even contradictory tidbits were rapidly filtered, integrated, and restructured in Su Ming’s mind.

A startlingly clear strategic atlas of the northern Heirong unfurled in his head.

Its detail and precision surpassed any Minister of War of the current court, even the Yongchang Marquis himself.

While sifting through those military archives, Su Ming did not forget his private concern.

Lantai Secret Garden.

that name as a keyword and hunted for it among the piles of old

the margins of a miscellany recording strange court events from the previous dynasty, he

Garden is hidden north of the imperial city; none may enter without the Son of Heaven’s edict. Within are collected courtly oddities, secret techniques, forbidden prescriptions, guarded by the Department of

of amusement, “Heh, the imperial library’s security is pretty high.

Ming silently took note and calmly slid the

the Ministry of War’s

piles labeled “geography,” “armaments,” and “tribes,” eager for praise: “My lord, I have not dishonored your trust! I have supervised day and night and at last organized the required scrolls. Please examine

skimmed a few pages and nodded, “Thank you, Compiler Qian.” The clerks he brought began to inventory and move the

corner behind everyone

...

the

wine, two plates of

arrived, looking exhausted, dark purple bruises

a long swig of wine the moment he

an official

lords at the Ministry of Revenue are still quarrelling endlessly

saying that if we don’t allocate sufficient grain and supplies for the spring campaign, they’ll submit a memorial to

numbers— even if we transfer every tax from several big southern provinces next year, it won’t

he slammed his fist on the

like it’s the end of the world. But when

quietly and

Qing didn’t want advice;

Qing had drunk too much and his gaze grew unfocused, “tell me, why is the

his

Ming

few fallen

eyes scanned the dark roofs and corners on both sides of the

courtyard, shut

...

Ming’s life outwardly showed no

to a

young man named Zhang

or three followers often gathered around him, whispering in corners, railing against the government

his distance with

washing his hands, Su Ming was stopped at a corridor corner

Zhang Yiming called

Ming cupped his hands in

copying books every day?” Zhang Yiming

through Su Ming’s heart, but his face remained wooden and calm: “I would not

of the Yongchang Marquis are nothing but state parasites living off

His words were incendiary.

Zhou’s integrity in standing up for the people. Now corruption rules; we

stepped closer, fixing Su Ming with an

of rash war and ask His Majesty to think twice. Brother Su, will you join us

Su Ming’s heart sank.

recruit him, to push

face, flushed with passion, and slowly shook

expression

righteousness is admirable.

life and ignorant of military and state affairs. Lord Guo commands me to copy books because my roots are shallow and I must

deep breath and his voice

our role, and I fear I would betray my teacher’s counsel to

“stupidity” and his teacher’s “caution”

expectation to

for a long time, then through gritted teeth spat

cannot be

flung his sleeve and strode away, his retreating

corridor as the winter wind lifted

“Tsk tsk tsk.”

voice sounded in his mind, enjoying