Half a Spoiler Chapter 169

A strange yet splendid radiance spread like layer upon layer of soft, delicate gauze through the invisible void. Those illusory dreams slowly condensed into specks of light, like starlight or jade dust, falling from the sky and leaving behind long, trailing bands of light. The long-sealed timeline began to shift; the faded history started to be replaced bit by bit by a new reality.

As an outstanding player who had achieved the ‘When Dreams Illuminate Reality’ accomplishment, Wen Yanran also received some rewards that belonged to her alone.

Chi Yi rose a little later than usual today – perhaps because she was sleeping in a different place. When she first woke up, she even felt a brief moment of disorientation, unsure of where she was.

Everything around her felt so unfamiliar. Chi Yi cautiously took a moment to get her bearings before realizing that she was in the Reed Palace. She chuckled at herself and quickly got up to change her clothes.

She had visited this place earlier for an inspection, but today, having accompanied the Sovereign here, she had failed to maintain her usual vigilance. Instead, she had slept even more deeply than usual and nearly overslept. For Chi Yi, who had served the Emperor for many years as a close attendant, this was certainly a rare experience.

After washing her face with the help of a young palace maid and hurriedly finishing her breakfast, Chi Yi made her way to the Emperor’s sleeping quarters.

While hurrying on her way, Chi Yi couldn’t help but recall the dreams she had. Unfortunately, the memories from her sleep had already begun to blur the moment she opened her eyes. She could only vaguely remember that she seemed to have dreamt an unusually long and unpleasant dream.

In the dream, she seemed to have died beneath blades and spears – the sensation of a sharp weapon piercing through her body felt exceptionally real. But in the next instant, the searing pain of consuming poisoned wine had covered the previous agony.

Chi Yi suddenly stopped in her tracks, lifted her head, and looked up at the sky.

The weather was beautiful today. The sunlight carried a warm brightness – everything around her, the palace walls, the roof tiles, the stone bricks, the flowers and plants, the passersby… all of it looked so vividly clear.

By the time Chi Yi arrived outside the Emperor’s sleeping quarters, Wen Yanran herself had already been up for a while.

“Ah-Yi is late too.”

Chi Yi caught the word “too” in the Emperor’s remark and stepped forward to apologize, “The staff at Reed Palace have mishandled matters…”

Wen Yanran, who knew the real reason so many people had overslept at this place, shook her head slightly and said, “After all, we are away from home.” Then she smiled and asked, “How did you rest last night?”

Chi Yi paused briefly before replying, “After a full day of travel, I was a bit restless and troubled by dreams.”

The people of the Great Zhou were deeply superstitious. If many people dreamed together, they would summon professionals to help interpret the visions.

Wen Yanran said, “I have already asked the State Preceptor to send someone to perform a nuo exorcism ritual. You also have someone from the Imperial Medical Bureau come over and fumigate the rooms with burning mugwort.”

Chi Yi acknowledged the order with a respectful reply.

Wen Yanran smiled slightly, picked up several memorials, and began to review them.

Although they all knew the Emperor was consistently diligent in governance, the act of reviewing memorials immediately after rising still stirred deep admiration among the close attendants.

Chi Yi was also part of the Western Yong Palace staff. One of the attendants told her, “Her Majesty said this morning that from now on, she must govern with full dedication.”

“…”

Even Chi Yi couldn’t help but fall silent for a moment – so according to the Emperor’s own standards, did that mean she hadn’t been governing with full dedication before?

What they didn’t know was that Wen Yanran had a particular work habit: if someone could convince her that a certain task was indeed her responsibility, no matter how tedious or difficult that task might be, Wen Yanran would accept it.

In Wen Yanran’s view, the reason she had so thoroughly misinterpreted the sarcastic comments in the discussion forum was precisely because she lacked sufficient understanding of this era.

Wen Yanran smiled. “I now feel more and more that my knowledge is limited. I must study diligently, so as not to make a fool of myself again.”

While the Emperor was reviewing memorials, Chi Yi also arranged for local elders to come to Reed Palace, so that the Sovereign could personally inquire about the local customs and conditions of Jianzhou.

Although Jianzhou was also within the capital region and not far from the city, the construction of the Liubo Canal and the grand canal had led many out-of-towners to settle there, inevitably resulting in some lapses in supervision. An official from the City Bureau came specifically to report the local situation to Chi Yi.

Upon hearing her subordinate’s report, Chi Yi’s expression turned slightly serious, then she nodded. “I understand.”

Many people had received the virtues and grace of the Great Zhou, but there were also quite a few who harbored resentment against the court. After so many generations of incompetent rulers, countless people across the land had lost their homes and families due to the tyranny of the imperial court. Although the current Emperor was indeed virtuous and wise, her reign had been too short – she was still a few months shy of seven years on the throne – and so some people remained bitter and discontented.

Some had planned to take advantage of the Emperor’s summons of the village elders to infiltrate the group and carry out an assassination.

The likelihood of successfully assassinating the Emperor was, of course, very low. But even if they failed, the mere fact that someone was willing to risk life and death to strike against Wen Yanran would, in itself, be enough to create a certain degree of negative impact.

However, this plan was intercepted before it could even be put into action.

“The person who stopped it was a captain from the former Imperial Guard.”

Chi Yi had an excellent memory and immediately asked, “Is this man surnamed Zhang?”

The subordinate’s expression showed admiration. “Yes.”

Chi Yi asked, “Where is that man now?”

The subordinate answered, “He has already left. His martial skills are exceptional – the ordinary Imperial Guard couldn’t stop him.”

Chi Yi had initially suspected that the young man might be using this opportunity to regain the Emperor’s trust, but only upon hearing this did she slowly confirm that he truly only wanted to help eliminate this assassination attempt.

The young man surnamed Zhang left behind a few words: his actions were not because he had forgotten Great Master Xuanyang’s kindness to him, nor because he intended to pledge loyalty to the Great Zhou Emperor, but because the current Emperor was truly diligent in governance and caring toward the people – a first-rate, excellent emperor. If she were to be assassinated, the common people of the land would once again be plunged into the flames of war.

When the young man had said those words, the assassins were still drawing their last breath – but unfortunately, their injuries were too severe for them to voice any objection. So, calling the Emperor diligent, caring for the people, a truly good ruler, and even following the imperial procession along the way to secretly clean up loose ends – this still didn’t count as pledging loyalty? Or was it that, in his view, no matter how much one acted in the Emperor’s best interest, without an official position, it didn’t really count as switching sides?

Wen Yanran did not cancel her plan to meet with the local village elders because of the minor incident of the assassination attempt. Having lived deep in the palace for so long, she truly needed more interaction with the common people outside. Even though such meetings followed a set protocol and were prone to the problem of form over substance, it wasn’t as though nothing could be learned. She asked the local elders in detail about grain yields and the burden of taxes, bestowed some money and silk upon everyone who had come, and only then had her attendants escort the old folks back to their homes.

Because the Sovereign’s stay at Reed Palace had lasted longer than originally planned, and the dragon boat over at the canal was already prepared to set sail, Grand Tutor Yuan – entrusted by his colleagues – came to sound out the Emperor’s intentions.

In terms of age alone, Wen Yanran was even younger than Yuan Yanshi’s own granddaughter. Yet, whenever the Grand Tutor presented a memorial to this young monarch, he often felt a tightness in his scalp.

Wen Yanran smiled and said, “You need not be anxious. I will set out no later than the day after tomorrow.” Noticing the look on Yuan Yanshi’s face, she added, “Do you have something else to discuss?”

Yuan Yanshi did have something he wished to say, though he had been somewhat hesitant. But since the Emperor had already asked directly, he spoke frankly, “Your Majesty is about to turn twenty years old. The matter of the grand imperial wedding can be placed on the agenda.”

Wen Yanran was briefly taken aback.

The Great Zhou imperial family followed ancient rites regarding marriage customs – only after the age of twenty was one considered an adult and permitted to hold a grand wedding. However, in this era, the higher one’s status, the more complicated the marriage procedures. For the Emperor, it was perfectly normal for a wedding ceremony to take as long as six months to a year.

Although Wen Yanran was still several months away from reaching adulthood, to only begin discussing the matter now was actually already somewhat behind schedule.

The Emperor had no maternal family and no close elders. Seeing that the Sovereign herself had not brought up the matter, the ministers could think of no other course of action than to have the Grand Tutor Yuan – one of the core ministers assisting in governance – initiate the topic.

Wen Yanran’s mind was filled with tangled thoughts, yet her expression remained composed. She merely smiled and said, “You need not worry. I already have a plan in mind regarding this matter.”

Yuan Yanshi gave a dry cough and said, “This matter is not only the Emperor’s family affair but also a matter of state. I hope Your Majesty will make early preparations.”

Although it was often said that the inner palace should not interfere with governance, the very reason this principle was emphasized throughout all dynasties was precisely because it had never been successfully enforced. After all, the Emperor could always meet with unforeseen circumstances. If the Sovereign were ever unable to govern, the central authorities would have to immediately find another core figure to exercise power – either the ruler’s successor or the ruler’s spouse, with the latter being the more likely option.

If a less capable emperor had just ascended the throne, the ministers would have hurried to help the Sovereign establish a maternal family to stabilize the central government.

Wen Yanran said, “The Marquess of Fengsu and the Marquess of Dujiang have visited your residence. What do you think of their academic progress – would you consider it passable?”

Yuan Yanshi replied, “The two princes are of imperial blood. They are intelligent, loyal, and diligent. Their studies are naturally outstanding.”

As the Grand Tutor, Yuan Yanshi certainly understood the implication behind the Emperor’s words. She was hinting to the court ministers that even if her own lap was empty, the Great Zhou would not truly lack an heir to the throne.

A long reign by the Emperor was conducive to the stability of the court. However, those at the very top of the dynasty had never been long-lived. The average lifespan of the Great Zhou emperors was less than thirty-five years. Even excluding those who had died young, it was still under forty.

If Wen Yanran were to offer her assessment, for a group of people so fond of courting death and indulging without restraint, living to thirty-five could already be considered a testament to the Imperial Medical Bureau’s dedication to duty…

The short lifespans of the imperial family forced them to constantly consider alternative methods of perpetuating power. People of that era continually emphasized clan laws, making ritual and legal parents supersede biological parents in terms of authority. At the same time, to mitigate risks, whether commoners or gentry, all lived together in clan clusters. It was entirely unremarkable for a niece to call her aunt “mother,” or for a nephew to call his uncle “father.”

Beyond that, there was the Tianfu Palace. This was, in essence, an institution used in emergencies to determine the imperial heir. In Wen Yanran’s understanding, it was somewhat similar to the secret system of designating an heir in later ages – a backup power core for the Great Zhou. Therefore, even though Wen Jingmei held no real power and was young, the moment she was confirmed as the heir, he was able to sit alongside Yuan Yanshi in the outer hall of Western Yong Palace, awaiting news.

Nevertheless, the empress could always be established first. Out of his position as a loyal minister, Yuan Yanshi offered a few more words of persuasion. But the Emperor remained as impenetrable as ever, leaving him no choice but to temporarily abandon the matter.

Seeing that Grand Tutor Yuan was about to take his leave, Wen Yanran suddenly called him back and asked with a smile, “Reed Palace is not as comfortable as Jianping. How have you been settling in here, Grand Tutor?”

Yuan Yanshi replied, “Your Majesty is most kind to be concerned. I am doing just fine.”

Wen Yanran said, “Grand Tutor, please take good care of yourself. I will still have much to rely on you for in the future.” She spoke these words with genuine sincerity – having decided to become a wise and virtuous ruler, she now needed to use the treacherous ministers as stepping stones to cross the river.