As Chao Yan stepped out of the side hall, Zhao He hurried over to report something.
“Minister Zhang arrived earlier. Unsure whether Your Highness had returned to the palace, this servant has already arranged for Minister Zhang and Vice Minister Meng to rest.”
Chao Yan asked Zhao He whether the two had discussed anything after meeting.
Zhao He had an excellent memory and recounted everything in detail. There was nothing particularly valuable, merely the usual exchange of barbed remarks and mutual mockery. Chao Yan instructed him to go and rest and told him he would not need to accompany him the following day.
Zhao He was instantly alarmed. He dropped to his knees and began kowtowing repeatedly. “Your Highness, has this servant done something wrong?”
“Get up,” Chao Yan said. “You’re always kneeling and kowtowing. Are you trying to make me think I treat you poorly?”
“This servant wouldn’t dare!” Zhao He replied, scrambling to his feet.
For a moment, Chao Yan unexpectedly saw a trace of Gu Yun in him. On impulse, he almost asked how one might remove the barrier between two people. The words reached his lips before he realised clearly that Zhao He was not Gu Yun. The two were fundamentally different.
Had Gu Yun been anything like Zhao He, his feelings would never have ended up in their current predicament.
Suppressing his emotions, Chao Yan said, “A-Yun is ill. Go and look after him for a while. I trust your work. Once A-Yun recovers, you can return.”
Zhao He happily accepted the order and withdrew respectfully.
Accompanied by his attendants, Chao Yan headed for the Grand Study Hall near Wenhua Hall.
The Grand Study Hall housed the imperial collection of books and served as the Crown Prince’s place of study, where Hanlin Academicians gave lectures.
After an entire night of turmoil, he had no desire to rest. He had no interest in going to Rouyi Hall either. There was only about an hour left before morning court, so he might as well spend the time reading.
In truth, Rouyi Hall was his official residence.
However, the Superintendent of Eastern Palace Eunuchs lived in an adjoining courtyard attached to Rouyi Hall. Unwilling to run into him and sour his mood, Chao Yan had staged a serious illness after moving into the Eastern Palace and claimed that Rouyi Hall was inauspicious for him. Using that excuse, he relocated to Chunhe Hall, where the Crown Prince’s consorts were housed.
The Superintendent of Eastern Palace Eunuchs shared the same surname as Minister Zhang. His name was Zhang Le. He was the adopted son of Wang Yihong, the Emperor’s most trusted favourite.
…
By the time Gu Yun awoke, Chao Yan, who had not slept all night, had already attended morning court.
As Zhao He watched him like a hawk and supervised him drinking his medicine, Chao Yan was at the Secretariat being subjected to hostile stares from all three Grand Chancellors.
The reason was simple.
He had just visited both the Bureau of Buddhist Affairs and the Bureau of Daoist Affairs and obtained a conclusion from the assembled eminent monks and Daoist masters regarding his proposal.
It was feasible.
As for the proposal itself, every Grand Chancellor thought it utterly absurd.
To elevate the building materials for the Ascension Tower beyond the mortal realm, Chao Yan had proposed that the Emperor spend several days cultivating himself at Cining Temple. Once sufficient Buddhist radiance had filled his body and opened a breach in the illness clinging to the imperial dragon body, enough dragon qi could be released.
After that, the Emperor would personally visit the construction site and touch each piece of building material, thereby helping it transcend its mortal nature.
What? What sort of ridiculous proposal was that?
As Crown Prince, it would have been bad enough if he had merely failed to stop the Emperor’s absurd behaviour. Instead, he was actively helping him carry it out.
Infuriating!
Their original plan had been to employ delaying tactics. Lay a foundation first to keep up appearances, then drag out construction of the Ascension Tower indefinitely with excuse after excuse.
The Emperor looked increasingly frail. Perhaps one day he would simply pass away. The moment that happened, they would jointly memorialise the throne and halt construction altogether. That way, the waste of manpower and resources would remain limited.
But who could have predicted it? Who could have predicted it? Who could have predicted it?
The Crown Prince, that little bastard, had actually chosen the Emperor’s side.
When they heard he had volunteered to supervise construction of the Ascension Tower, they had assumed he was cooperating with them.
The fact that the three Grand Chancellors had not leapt up and collectively beaten the Crown Prince was already remarkable restraint.
Though each harboured his own private interests, none of them was foolish enough to support something that harmed everyone.
Yet the Crown Prince seemed blind, completely incapable of seeing their displeasure.
He also seemed to have developed amnesia, having somehow forgotten all the objections they had previously raised before the Emperor.
Meanwhile, he calmly sorted through the joint statement of feasibility submitted by the Buddhist and Daoist authorities, preparing to present it to the Emperor after work.
Grand Chancellor Song tugged at the corner of his mouth and exchanged glances with Grand Chancellor Hu and Grand Chancellor Meng.
All three were old political hands. How could they fail to understand what Song was thinking?
He wanted one of them to speak up and stop the Crown Prince. But who wanted to be the first to offend him?
Grand Chancellor Hu lowered his head and continued processing official business.
Grand Chancellor Meng busied himself assigning tasks to his subordinates.
Song thought to himself: Don’t tell me I’m the one who has to do it?
Absolutely not.
His abilities and background were already unremarkable compared with the other two. Worse still, not one of his descendants had amounted to anything.
If he offended the Crown Prince over this matter and earned his resentment, what would happen once the Crown Prince ascended the throne?
Truth be told, even now he did not understand why the Emperor had elevated him to the position of Grand Chancellor. He often suspected he had merely been brought in to make up the numbers.
Throughout his official career, he had simply been an ordinary official who exhausted himself trying to imitate capable colleagues. He had neither accomplished anything noteworthy nor committed any major mistakes.
His only advantages were luck and seniority.
He had entered official service early and therefore had more time than most people to wait for vacancies and opportunities.
Who would have thought that only a few years earlier his greatest ambition had been to reach Associate Third Rank?
Grand Chancellor Song privately believed his ancestral graves must have exceptionally good feng shui*. Otherwise, how could his rise have been so smooth?
(*TN: Feng shui (Chinese: 風水, literally “wind-water”) is a traditional Chinese philosophical system and practice aimed at harmonising people with their surrounding environment. It involves arranging spaces such as buildings, rooms, graves, and furniture in order to optimise the flow of qi (vital energy), thereby attracting good fortune, health, and prosperity while avoiding misfortune.)
Still, excellent feng shui did not prevent him from behaving like a turtle now.
Ah well. As long as he was not the only one losing out, why worry? Life would muddle along somehow. The common people could endure hardship for a while.
Once the new emperor ascended the throne, he could grant a general amnesty, implement reforms, and reduce taxes.
The Crown Prince might be blindly loyal, but he was capable enough. Once the Emperor died, he would surely govern well.
Thus, throughout the entire Secretariat, not a single person voiced opposition.
After organising the feasibility report, Chao Yan prepared to leave at the end of the workday. At last, unable to restrain himself any longer, Grand Chancellor Hu called out to him. He jabbed Grand Chancellor Meng with an elbow.
“Huaipu, say something.”
Huaipu was Meng’s courtesy name. Meng glanced at him and immediately understood there was no avoiding it. If he delayed any further, the Crown Prince would run straight to the Emperor, and father and son would happily embark on another grand undertaking together.
Catching Chao Yan’s sleeve, Meng said, “Your Highness, shall we have a word?”
Tall and thin, Hu forced a smile. “Your Highness, some matters are not as straightforward as they appear. Sit down and let us speak properly.”
In his youth, Hu had been a handsome man. Now fifty-five years old, time had naturally left its marks, yet he remained far more attractive than most men his age. Among the gathering of old officials, he was particularly pleasant to look at.
Chao Yan watched him speak and sighed helplessly.
“Father has probably already learned that I obtained the results from the Bureau of Buddhist Affairs and the Bureau of Daoist Affairs. It is not that I wish to disregard the Grand Chancellors’ opinions, but Father is waiting. There is no time to waste.”
“But this matter is not entirely beyond remedy, is it?” Hu replied.
Seeing the other two finally stepping forward, Song quietly voiced his agreement.
“I know the treasury is depleted,” Chao Yan said. “Money is needed everywhere. But if Father’s health improves, he will govern the realm more effectively. Our current difficulties are only temporary.”
Hu looked him directly in the eye. “Your Highness, have you never read a history book?”
The remark was only one step removed from pointing at his nose and calling him a fool.
Yet Chao Yan remained calm. “Minister Hu, why become so angry? I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Meng, who had been watching him all this time, finally spoke again. “Your Highness, I hope I have not misjudged you.”
Chao Yan smiled. “Ziyu has not forgotten the kindness the three Grand Chancellors showed when they supported my appointment as Crown Prince.”
Meng shook his head. That was not what he meant. He was not reminding the Crown Prince of old favours. Rather, after hearing what Chao Yan had said to Meng Zhao the previous night, he had come to believe that the Crown Prince was not acting recklessly.
Before morning court, Meng Zhao had returned home and relayed the entire conversation.
At length, Meng simply said: “You may go.”
Hu frowned.
Song looked from one man to the other and remained silent. “Then I’ll take my leave.”
Chao Yan turned and walked away.
The moment he was gone, Hu turned to Meng. “What exactly do you mean by this? In the end, you’ve left Grand Chancellor Song and me standing opposite the Crown Prince.”
“His Highness may have his own considerations,” Meng replied.
Hu let out a cold laugh. “The realm is unstable. Generals are constantly demanding grain and military pay. Disaster-stricken regions require relief funds. Prefects throughout the provinces complain endlessly about poor harvests and produce excuse after excuse for failing to meet tax quotas year after year. Then there are the imperial relatives causing trouble wherever they go.
“And all you can say is that His Highness may have his own considerations.
“Excellent.
“Truly excellent.”
Meng stared at him expressionlessly. After a long pause, he said: “And what exactly have you been doing?
“When I proposed cleaning up corruption within the military garrisons, you claimed it would anger the generals and provoke unrest.
“When I proposed restricting land annexation, your faction obstructed implementation at every turn.
“When I sought to amend the civil examination regulations and close existing loopholes, you agreed publicly but undermined the effort behind the scenes until it came to nothing.”
With a smile that never reached his eyes, Hu walked over. Hands tucked into his sleeves, he bent slightly and lowered his voice. “Meng Huaipu, the person who has always stopped you is not me. It is yourself. You lack resolve. You always leave a way out for your own people.
It is also His Majesty. He no longer wishes to stir up trouble. What matters more to him is balancing the various factions. And it is every official in court. You challenged everyone’s interests. Don’t tell me you don’t know that.
You simply need someone to blame. Put everything on my shoulders, preserve that pitiful ideal of championing the common people, keep your conscience clear, and continue working.”
Meng’s chest rose and fell violently.
Hu continued: “You’re old. When it’s time to retire, retire. There are plenty of talented young officials waiting for promotion.”
Meng’s breathing became increasingly laboured.
Song never involved himself in their struggles. All he wanted was a peaceful retirement and a comfortable life living off a Grand Chancellor’s pension.
Bending slightly, he quietly edged towards the exit. Halfway there, he sensed something wrong. Turning around, he discovered Meng Huaipu sprawled on the floor, unconscious.
Song let out a shrill scream. Hu merely glanced over. “He’s not dead.”
Song immediately relaxed and hurriedly shouted for someone to summon an imperial physician.
…
While chaos reigned at the Secretariat, Chao Yan had already found the Emperor.
The Emperor was in the Western Garden reviewing memorials submitted by the Grand Chancellors. After hearing Chao Yan’s report, he pondered briefly before breaking into delighted laughter. “Excellent. We’ll do exactly that.”
Chao Yan acknowledged the order.
“You handled this matter very well,” the Emperor said. “What reward would you like?”
Smiling, Chao Yan replied, “Father, once the Ascension Tower is completed, I’ll ask for my reward then.”
The Emperor pointed at him from afar and laughed. “Don’t push your luck.”
“I understand.”
“Very well. You may leave.”
Chao Yan withdrew.
Not long afterwards, a carrier pigeon arrived. Chief Eunuch Huang accepted it, removed the bamboo tube tied to its leg, and handed it over.
After reading the note inside, the Emperor chuckled. “The Secretariat is certainly lively today.”
Chief Eunuch Huang lowered his head, uncertain what he meant.
The Emperor muttered to himself: “What exactly did Hu say to Meng in private to anger him into fainting? A pity. Song is honest enough, but far too timid. He refuses to offend anyone and therefore cannot be fully relied upon.”
Behind him, the newly appointed Commander of the Huben Guards watched silently, his gaze darkening slightly.
…
While the Emperor was pondering the two Grand Chancellors, Gu Yun was pondering how to ask Chao Yan for permission to seek out Guo Yangquan.
Perhaps he could claim the man was a long-lost relative? Hmm…The incident at Cining Temple ought to have passed, together with his cold… shouldn’t it?
Gu Yun was not entirely certain.
Even now, he still could not determine whether Chao Yan simply did not believe him or already knew the truth.
Precisely because he could not tell, and because his current circumstances seemed no worse than before, he had gradually convinced himself that the matter had already blown over in Chao Yan’s eyes.
His health had not yet fully recovered. With a slight headache lingering, he obediently drank a bowl of medicine under Zhao He’s supervision and lay down to rest.
After only a short while, however, he began feeling somewhat better. Then anxiety returned.
Unable to remain still, he climbed out of bed and stationed himself along a path beside Wenhua Hall.
Like a husband-watching stone, he stared eagerly down the road leading towards it.
According to Zhao He, once Chao Yan finished work, he would first return to Wenhua Hall to review the day’s affairs with the Eastern Palace officials.
Gu Yun was not waiting there because he had solved any of his worries. He simply wanted to see Chao Yan.
For some reason, merely seeing him seemed capable of easing much of his anxiety.
He waited. And waited.
By the time darkness fell, Chao Yan finally returned. Gu Yun spotted him from afar and immediately hurried over. Chao Yan remained where he was, watching Gu Yun run up to him with a smile.
His gaze shifted briefly towards Li Lan, who stood before Wenhua Hall. Li Lan immediately shook his head, indicating that Gu Yun clearly had no idea Xu Jingzhou had already been “invited” over.
Reaching out, Chao Yan touched Gu Yun’s forehead. The fever had subsided.
His voice softened. “What is it?” he asked.
