Half a Spoiler Chapter 163

Wen Yanran rarely had the chance to leave the palace. Even though the market streets appeared quite rudimentary, she was still willing to take a few extra steps outside. Imperial guards disguised as attendants carefully protected the Emperor, the formation of the group appearing loose but actually tight. Zhong Zhiwei, moreover, stayed directly by the Emperor’s side.

In the market, some people were performing acrobatics, while others mimicked the calls of birds and animals, creating an especially lively atmosphere. Beyond that, most of the stalls sold daily necessities such as clay bowls and fabric.

Wen Yanran recalled that in ancient marketplaces, there were often activities frequently encountered by time-traveling individuals – such as storytelling, opera singing, and dough figurine modeling. Yet here, there was clearly none of that.

The group had been wandering for nearly another hour before Chi Yi approached the Emperor and remarked that it was getting late. She added, “If Your Majesty insists on staying overnight at the Marquis of Qu’an’s residence, it will be hard to avoid impeachment by the censors.”

Wen Yanran, ever agreeable, smiled and said, “In that case, let us return.”

Since the Emperor had consented, the others naturally turned and headed toward the exit of the residential ward.

With so many officials in the capital, it was hardly unusual to encounter acquaintances on the street. Chi Yi’s gaze swept forward and spotted Chu Sui approaching in their direction.

Chu Sui recognized Chi Yi and casually greeted the familiar face. “Long time no see, Attendant Chi. Which family member are you accompanying…” But before she could finish, she abruptly stopped herself.

Oh no – she seemed to have spotted the Emperor herself.

According to protocol, the Emperor should have been inside the imperial palace at this hour, closely guarded by the imperial army. While there was an unspoken understanding among the court officials about the Emperor’s discreet outings, that tacit agreement was based on the premise that they never happened to cross paths.

Chu Sui silently watched Chi Yi and the group – no matter who that literary gentleman in a hood, whose figure closely resembled the Emperor herself, was claimed to be in a moment, she was willing to accept it completely.

Wen Yanran pondered for a moment, then slowly spoke, “Care to guess?”

Chu Sui: “…” Couldn’t they just come up with a cover story themselves?

She cleared her throat and said solemnly, “In truth, whom one accompanies on an outing is a private matter for the two Cavalier Attendants-in-Ordinary. I certainly have no right to pry or speculate.” After a brief hesitation, she lowered her voice. “The market streets are crowded and full of gossip. This area is not far from the imperial city, and it’s mostly noble families who go out here…”

Wen Yanran smiled. “Very well, thank you for the reminder. But no one can see my face anyway, so I imagine it’s not a problem.”

Chu Sui replied, “…Be that as it may, many in the court recognize the two Cavalier Attendants-in-Ordinary.”

For the vast number of ordinary officials, the Emperor’s close attendants were far more recognizable than the Emperor herself!

Zhong Zhiwei, being loyal and cautious by nature, spoke up, “Perhaps Erudite Chu means to say that if word of your whereabouts gets out, it certainly won’t be because she leaked it.”

Wen Yanran tugged at Zhong Zhiwei’s sleeve and said with a smile, “I know. But since Erudite Chu didn’t spell it out, let’s just pretend we didn’t catch her meaning.”

Chu Sui: “…”

She had long heard that the Emperor occasionally revealed a mischievous side, but she never imagined she would one day find herself on the receiving end.

Before entering the market district, Zhang Luo and the others had left their horses at the entrance. Since they had been standing there for quite a while, an uninformed passerby approached them. “Are those horses yours? My younger sister has turned fourteen, and I’m looking to find her a mount to practice riding and archery. Would you be willing to part with one?”

Wen Yanran casually replied, “Since she’s only fourteen, why not buy her a pony first?”

The man laughed. “My sister will be coming of age in just a year. How can I still treat her like a child? Naturally, she should ride a full-grown horse.”

Wen Yanran: “…”

She glanced at Zhong Zhiwei through her hood, only to find that the latter’s expression remained unchanged – clearly not picking up on the absurdity of the conversation at all…

Judging by his attire, the young man looking to buy a horse was also from a noble family. As they spoke, he caught sight of Chu Sui and eagerly called out, “I had no idea Erudite Chu was here as well!” Slightly excited, he introduced her to Wen Yanran and the others, “This is Erudite Chu, renowned throughout the Imperial Academy for her literary achievements!”

Chu Sui: “…” As a young woman from a family steeped in literary tradition, she never imagined she would harbor such complicated feelings toward the praise of being “renowned for literary achievements.”

Wen Yanran studied the horse-buying young man for a moment before a trace of curiosity finally arose. “May I ask your name?”

The young man bowed. “My surname is Tao.” Noting that there was more than one high-ranking official of the Tao family in court, he added, “A distant relative of the General of Chariots and Cavalry.”

Though Tao Jia had since been reassigned to the position of Grand Guardian, people still habitually referred to him by his former title.

Wen Yanran smiled. “No wonder you’re looking to buy a horse – it must run in the family.” She gave a slight nod to the young man as a gesture of farewell.

Chi Yi and Zhang Luo, who were a step behind their sovereign, understood the implication at once – summer had arrived, and the Imperial Academy was due for an expansion. They could look into whether this distant relative of Tao Jia’s in the capital was enrolled there. The Grand Guardian was a paramount minister of the court, and it was only fitting to extend special consideration to his kinsmen. If any had been overlooked and were not yet studying, they would see to it that he was admitted. If the man was already a student at the Imperial Academy, they would discreetly remind Wen Jishan, the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy, to place greater emphasis on the students’ coursework in the near future…

Wen Yanran led her party back to the palace. Zhong Zhiwei, however, did not part ways with her; together, they went to Western Yong Palace. After dining, they proceeded to the study, where they lit candles and discussed the situation in the western territories in detail.

A holiday was certainly a joyous affair, yet after it came to an end, predictably, a minister came forward to admonish the Emperor against leaving the palace at will.

“I received word that on that day, at the entrance to the market district, someone resembling Minister Zhong was seen assisting a young noble wearing a hood onto a horse.”

Had it been any ordinary censor, Zhang Luo might have dismissed the matter without a second thought. But the one who came this time was Censor-in-Chief Song Wenshu, so naturally, the situation demanded serious attention. Fortunately, luck was on his side – he spotted Wen Yuansheng, Marquis of Fengsu, passing by and pulled her over to serve as a pretext.

“The person who left the palace that day was not Her Majesty.”

Song Wenshu asked, “If it was not Her Majesty, then could it have been Marquis of Fengsu instead?”

Wen Yuansheng, who had been dragged into the matter on the spot, did not so much as blink and readily confessed, “It was indeed me.”

Though she had no idea what the two were discussing, that did not stop her from stepping forward bravely and taking the blame upon herself.

Song Wenshu’s expression remained as kindly as ever. “But Marquis of Dujiang also claimed it was himself, with Attendant Chi testifying to it.”

Zhang Luo and Wen Yuansheng: “…” Why didn’t the Censor-in-Chief mention this earlier?

As siblings of the Emperor, Marquis of Fengsu and Marquis of Dujiang were both loyal and willing to take the blame for their imperial sister. Yet, in matters of worldly experience, they still had some shortcomings.

Seeing this, Song Wenshu did not press further. Instead, he moved past the topic altogether. After parting ways with Zhang Luo and the others, he leisurely made his way back to the imperial secretariat.

When the Emperor was selecting tutors and companions for the Eleventh Princess and the Thirteenth Prince, she casually marked a few young scions of aristocratic families, among whom was a member of the Song clan.

According to the Emperor’s decree, before officially assuming their posts, the tutors were required to draft their teaching plans and submit them for her review. Only after her approval could they commence instruction.

Some tutors were deeply indignant, feeling that the Emperor did not trust them enough. Yet even the prestigious Song clan – widely recognized as one of the foremost aristocratic families of Jianping – had complied without objection, leaving others with no grounds for pride. Reluctantly, they followed suit.

When news of this spread, many court officials found solace in it. Yuan Yanshi, in particular, praised the decision. “Her Majesty places great emphasis on filial piety and fraternal bonds – this is a blessing for the realm.”

Song Wenshu, having reviewed those teaching plans, gradually came to realize that the Emperor was an exceptionally pragmatic person.

In early June, the Emperor led the civil and military officials in relocating to Gui Palace to escape the summer heat. Perhaps due to the more relaxed atmosphere of the suburban surroundings, her attendance at court became somewhat less regular. Instead, she often took the Minister of War with her to go horseback riding in the countryside.

In the morning, the breeze sweeping in from the forest carried a refreshing coolness unique to the mountains.

Wen Yanran rode her horse up a slope, then reined in the reins and held a distant gaze into the horizon. Smiling, she remarked to the person beside her, “I intend to build a new city in the south.”

The Emperor’s tone was no different than usual, but the content of her words would almost certainly compel the Minister of Revenue – who had already taken sick leave due to the toll of desk work – to summon the imperial physician once more.

Zhong Zhiwei said, “Along the canal in the south, many laborers have no intention of returning home once their service ends. Building a new city there would be a good thing, Your Majesty.”

Wen Yanran turned to her with a smile and said unhurriedly, “I intend to construct this city to the standard of a secondary capital.”

Though Zhong Zhiwei was a military official, she understood well that over the past two years, due to the canal project, the Ministry of Revenue’s books had been exceptionally strained. A new secondary capital would evidently be another massive undertaking, demanding both manpower and resources.

She fell silent for a moment but ultimately trusted that the Emperor must have a well-conceived plan in mind – one that required no worry on her part. Then, with a smile, she said, “The south is hot. Your Majesty could stay in the secondary capital during winter and return to Jianping for the summer.”

Although Zhong Zhiwei kept her conversations with the Emperor to herself, Wen Yanran had no intention of hiding her plans.

The first to suffer a severe headache upon hearing the news was naturally Lu Yuanguang. For a moment, she felt she could not continue her convalescence and must rise at once to resume work. The next moment, she was tempted to remain lying at home, using it as a refuge from the commotion outside.

Beyond her, Yuan Yanshi, Song Wenshu, and others all submitted memorials, urging the Emperor not to act with undue haste.

Yuan Yanshi bowed deeply. “Your Majesty ascended the throne at a tender age and is now in a period of great promise. It may be wise to proceed gradually.”

At this moment, Wen Yanran remained exceedingly courteous toward Grand Tutor Yuan. Yet this courtesy did not translate into substantive power – once she decided not to heed the counsel of the senior ministers, Yuan Yanshi and the others found themselves powerless.

Wen Yanran gave a faint, knowing smile. “I already have a plan in mind.”

Regardless of the ministers’ protests, the Emperor still assigned the task to the Ministry of Works. Huang Xu, its chief minister, came to a profound realization of what it meant that time waited for no one – he had once submitted a request for retirement, only for the Emperor to send imperial physicians to his home. After confirming that his health was not as dire as he had claimed, she rejected his memorial. Huang Xu dared not press the matter then, but had he known the Emperor intended to build a new city to the standard of a secondary capital, he would have pleaded for retirement no matter how many times it took.

The Ministry of Works busied itself with organizing personnel, formulating construction plans, and calculating the necessary materials.

For a long time, the insufficient mathematical proficiency of scholar-officials, combined with the court’s emphasis on family background and personal reputation in selecting officials, had left many Ministry of Works officers lacking essential professional competence. Moreover, affairs such as city construction were complex and chaotic – far from being sorted out in a short period. However, with the establishment of a mathematics curriculum at the Imperial Academy and the recent assignment of many students who had passed the Talent Selection Examinations to the Ministry of Works, the efficiency of the institution had seen marked improvement.

Huang Xu thought to himself – so this was why the Emperor had specifically invited the venerable Erudite Lu out of retirement to teach mathematics at the Imperial Academy. It had all been preparation for a major construction project.

In the past, even when emperors intended to build a city, they typically only outlined the requirements, leaving the specifics to be refined by the Ministry of Works. But Wen Yanran was an emperor who preferred to be hands-on. From how the secondary capital should be sited, to its internal layout, down to the design of its drainage system – she questioned every detail in depth, leaving Huang Xu filled with trepidation each time he appeared before her.

At the same time, Wen Yanran found herself equally exhausted. If she hadn’t known that Huang Xu was genuinely lacking in competence, she might have suspected him of being less than diligent in his court presentations – almost as if he were deliberately stalling the project.

With the help of the [Cartography] function, Wen Yanran selected the site for the new city at the junction of Yong province and Yu Province. When this news first spread, many were astonished, unable to fathom why the Emperor would choose such a desolate location to build a city. Yet after Song Wenshu and the others examined the map, a sense of realization dawned on them, and some even found themselves impressed – the Emperor had managed to identify an exceptionally suitable site. The terrain was flat, surrounded by mountains that could serve as natural barriers, and it was conveniently located not far from the canal, offering ample transportation access.

With the location and the vision for the city determined, the Ministry of Works now had to find ways to procure the necessary materials.

Inside the palace hall within Gui Palace that had been designated as the Ministry of Works’ temporary office.

Huang Xu sat in his seat, a somewhat peculiar expression on his face.

He had barely begun to worry when word arrived that a large quantity of timber and stone had already been transported to Chunmi County.

Chunmi County was hardly a place of particular importance; Huang Xu only remembered its name because the canal passed through it. These materials, however, came from the northern territories. After witnessing the emperor’s unyielding resolve, more and more people had come to a firm decision – at least for the time being, they would not oppose the central authority. Whatever Wen Yanran wished to do, they would help her achieve it; if uncertain how to assist, they would simply follow Wen Hong’s example.

Thanks to Shi Zhuhe – who had not been back long before reminding many of the dread instilled by a master of political theater – the powerful clans could not act too brazenly. They had no choice but to scrape together resources from their family reserves to curry favor with the emperor. Clearly, they did so unwillingly, yet circumstances forced them to cut their losses. At the same time, they hoped to modestly reduce their own influence, lest they draw the Emperor’s scrutiny.

Huang Xu was deeply shaken. No wonder the Emperor had appeared so confident – she had anticipated all along that the northern clans would act this way. Moreover, the section of the canal from Jianzhou to Yong Province had already been completed, allowing them to transport materials entirely by water to the site of the secondary capital, greatly reducing the costs along the way.

Gui Palace, the Emperor’s Sleeping Quarters.

Wen Yanran sat in silence, gazing at the memorial on her desk.

The northern regions had willingly sent a wealth of supplies her way. She had, in effect, successfully extracted resources from the provinces – so why did it feel so peculiar?

Translator’s Words:

Sorry guys, I will be going away for a week. Will be back next Thursday! I will upload an extra chapter today, and when I come back, I will be uploading two chapters daily to make up for this.