Half a Spoiler Chapter 170

The dragon boat, which had long been awaiting the Emperor, finally set sail. The journey started with more difficulty than usual, and once they were on the way… things didn’t get much smoother.

If there was anything that brought the eunuchs any joy, it was that the Sovereign had finally set aside the memorials and begun to rest – but this was not entirely good news. No one had ever expected that Wen Yanran herself would be prone to seasickness.

Cai Qu brought over a bowl of plain congee. “Would Your Majesty like to eat?”

Wen Yanran’s face was pale with a hint of green. “Do not speak to me of food and drink for the next few days.”

Cai Qu said, “Then perhaps Your Majesty could take some plain water…”

Before she could finish the sentence, Cai Qu received her answer from the Emperor’s expression – the very words she had just spoken were filled with forbidden terms that only worsened the Emperor’s seasickness.

Xiu Zhui suggested, “Your Majesty, why not summon a few musicians to play the zither?”

This suggestion sounded a bit better than matters of eating and drinking, so Wen Yanran gave it a try – and found that it did have an effect. She now felt seasick with a bit more rhythm.

The Chief Imperial Physician had been stationed on the Emperor’s dragon boat the entire time. He came early to write a prescription and had a decoction brewed from cinnamon, cloves, and grassleaf sweetflag. But the more the Emperor drank, the greener her face turned, until the physician felt cold sweat trickling down the back of his own neck.

However, even though the medicine couldn’t suppress the seasickness, the attendants on the boat were not entirely without recourse. In this age, medicine and shamanism were one – if herbs failed, one could still rely on prayers.

When Wen Jingmei received the news, he naturally came to visit the Sovereign. “Is Your Majesty feeling any better?”

Wen Yanran closed her eyes briefly. “In any case, we’ll reach our destination in three or four days. For now, it’s manageable.”

Wen Jingmei nodded – meaning it was still very much a problem.

The Emperor had always been cordial toward the State Preceptor. Seeing Wen Jingmei arrive, the Chief Imperial Physician, who had written the prescription for Her Majesty, seized the perfect moment to step forward and beg forgiveness. “My skills are lacking; I have been unable to alleviate Your Majesty’s seasickness.” He added, “Fortunately, Your Majesty has always practiced martial arts and is in good health. Once ashore, a few days of rest will restore you completely.”

Wen Yanran gave a small wave of her hand and smiled. “This really isn’t your fault. You may withdraw.”

After all, she had ordered the canal dug, she had ordered the dragon boat built, and she had ordered the vessel constructed. If one insisted on tracing the logic, the entire affair could be summed up in one phrase: reaping what one sows.

Wen Yanran sighed inwardly. She had never expected that she, now resolved to be a benevolent ruler, would still have to bear the consequences of her days as a tyrannical one.

“Since the imperial physician is of no use, let the State Preceptor offer a prayer for me instead.”

Wen Jingmei answered truthfully, “I had already prayed for Your Majesty on the way here.”

Wen Yanran: “…” So even the comfort of the occult was now a dead end?

Wen Jingmei smiled. “It must be dull for Your Majesty to lie here idle. Allow me to tell some tales of our homeland.” He could not do much else, but diverting the Emperor’s attention was within his ability.

Wen Yanran did not rise. She had someone add a few cotton-stuffed cushions behind her back, sat up, and smiled. “Very well. I shall trouble you then, State Preceptor.”

Wen Jingmei, after all, was a close minister of the throne who frequently received the Emperor’s visits. He had long since noticed that the current emperor took great interest in local customs and folk traditions. He himself had a wide range of knowledge and a near-photographic memory. Now, as he leisurely recounted various anecdotes and tales, not only the Emperor herself but even the attendants nearby listened with rapt attention.

Wen Yanran looked at the young man before her. “I have troubled you, State Preceptor. Once we reach Taikang, I shall take you out for a stroll.”

Wen Jingmei had no need to curry favor with his superior on ordinary days. The reason he had amassed so many rustic tales was simply because he himself enjoyed them. Yet his duties confined him – he could not venture out. If Wen Yanran still had the chance to leave the palace incognito, Wen Jingmei, as State Preceptor, had to remain within Tianfu Palace at all times, unable to depart.

Wen Jingmei gave a faint smile. “Your Majesty’s words are golden, a promise worth a thousand pieces of gold. Then I shall await the day Your Majesty take me out.”

Seasickness was not a serious ailment. As the State Preceptor, Wen Jingmei did not need to remain by the Emperor’s quarters at all times. By evening, he had returned to his own chambers to dine, lest he trigger the Emperor’s seasickness symptoms. Wen Yanran lay alone on her bed for a while, mulling over the thought that her symptoms were so severe this time – perhaps not entirely because she was naturally prone to seasickness, but possibly related to the [Data Deployment].

After all, everything she now experienced had turned from a game into reality.

By today, Wen Yanran had gradually come to understand one thing: the scope of [Data Deployment] was centered on the Great Zhou dynasty, radiating outward. If she had gone to war against a remote region that held no subordinate relationship to her court, then deploying data there would have been far more difficult – and likely would have failed.

…So, in fact, from back then, the world consciousness behind the system had already been scheming against her, quietly plotting a change of course.

The system couldn’t very well say that it, too, was acting out of necessity – because the space Wen Yanran occupied had already turned into the real world, the functions of the Monarch System had been severely weakened as a result. The only features that still worked properly were the map and the [Monarch’s Notes], which now functioned little more than a text file.

Wen Yanran didn’t feel much of a difference. Even though she now had a deeper understanding of the spoilers from the comment section, and many things had taken on a different appearance in her eyes, the one thing that remained consistent was the utter uselessness of the system.

By the time the dragon boat arrived at Taikang City, the Emperor, who had suffered from continuous seasickness for days, ordered all procedures to be kept as simple as possible – staying true to her principle of diligence and frugality. After only a brief inspection of the new city under the escort of the Imperial Guard, she returned to the Taizheng Palace to rest and recover the vitality she had lost on the dragon boat. During this time, state affairs were temporarily handed over to the senior ministers of the court and the heads of the various ministries.

In recent years, Wen Yanran had gradually begun delegating authority to her ministers, and by now they had long grown accustomed to deliberating matters together, having become quite familiar with one another.

Since the fifth year of Zhaoming, the Great Zhou had not experienced any major natural disasters, and wars had been even rarer. Though some minor incidents had arisen in the western frontier regions, each time they had barely surfaced before Wen Xun suppressed them directly. As for the southern territories, they dared not even show the slightest sign of rebellion – terrified that General Xiao, who was utterly loyal to the Sovereign and exceptionally skilled in battle, might deem them disrespectful toward the Great Zhou emperor.

“Other matters may be set aside for now, but there is one matter that truly cannot be delayed any further.”

The gazes of the various court ministers converged on the Grand Tutor. Yuan Yanshi had previously been entrusted to inquire of the Emperor about her intentions regarding the grand wedding, and naturally, he had to report the results to his colleagues. He now spoke, “Her Majesty said she has her own plans. I did not see fit to press further.”

“Having her own plans” was, for the ministers, one of the most unwelcome responses -it meant they had absolutely no grasp of the Emperor’s thinking.

One attendant speculated, “Her Majesty is still young, after all. Perhaps she is waiting for us to take the initiative and recommend some promising young talents from the noble clans.”

Wang Youyin glanced at her colleague, feeling that she was projecting the image of Emperors Si and Dao onto the current sovereign. She shook her head. “That seems unlikely. If the Sovereign truly had such an intention, even if she did not reveal it to others, she would at least hint at it to those close to her, so that outsiders might discern the imperial will.”

Chi Yi and Zhang Luo, who were present because the Emperor had entrusted them with the handling of state affairs, smiled faintly and said nothing. Judging by their demeanor, it was clear they had not heard the slightest rumor either.

Just then, a thought flashed through Chi Yi’s mind: there was no reason for the Sovereign to brush off Grand Tutor Yuan, so the words “having her own plans” were genuine. Yet none of us close attendants know any of the inside details – which means the Emperor herself is also somewhat hesitant on the matter.

Every person, by nature, has their preferences. Yet the current emperor, in choosing a consort for the central palace, had never shown the slightest inclination, leaving everyone with nothing to go on.

At that thought, Chi Yi suddenly paused – she had been mistaken. If one had to speak of a preference, there actually was one.

In recent years, whenever the Emperor wished to relax, she often visited the Tianfu Palace.

If Chi Yi could think of this, Zhang Luo naturally could as well. Nor were those officials who had risen from the ranks of palace secretaries entirely unaware of the rumors. Among them, Wang Youyin – true to her reputation as someone the comment section had summed up as “mediocre” – possessed a formidable capacity for making connections. She said softly, “Her Majesty frequently visits Tianfu Palace.”

Privately, Wang Youyin did not wish to appear so forward. But given her youth, while the other ministers were reluctant to bear the reputation of lacking decorum, it fell to younger officials like herself to speak on their behalf.

Upon hearing the words “Tianfu Palace,” some of the ministers immediately glanced around in all directions, and only then did they relax slightly – to demonstrate that he had no intention of monopolizing power, Wen Jingmei generally never meddled in state affairs. Even though he held the authority to participate in discussions of governance, he was ordinarily not present in such gatherings.

Yuan Yanshi frowned. “This makes things rather difficult…”

According to ancestral rites, Wen Jingmei’s branch of the clan had been separated from the main imperial line for more than five generations – over two hundred years – fully meeting the requirements for leaving the clan. However, Yuan Yanshi himself, as a standard minister from the aristocratic clans, still harbored some resistance toward the matters that had transpired during the reign of Emperor Si.

Chi Yi’s tone suddenly turned cold as she swept her sleeve. “If it were not difficult, what use would there be for all of you assembled here? Her Majesty rises before dawn and eats only after dark, toiling tirelessly. As her ministers, should we not relieve the sovereign of her burdens and solve her problems?”

The chamber fell silent.

Though she was a high-ranking inner court official with real power, Chi Yi was usually affable and willing to get along with others, enjoying a fine reputation among the scholarly circles. It was rare for her to speak with such harshness. Now, with a flash of her sharp edge, she sent a chill through those present.

Even Grand Tutor Yuan had met with a rebuff, leaving the others even less inclined to speak. Moreover, Chi Yi’s words were difficult to refute. The current emperor was not one who only sought pleasure and enjoyment, but a rare and diligent ruler. Under such circumstances, indulging a personal preference was hardly excessive.

Lu Yuanguang said, “Attendant Chi, do not be angry. We have gathered here precisely to come up with a proper solution.”

Her words seemed intended to mediate, but her stance had already leaned toward Chi Yi’s side.

Wang Youyin added, “The Grand Tutor is merely concerned that there are those in court and beyond who seek fame through posturing and remonstration. They might seize upon this matter as a pretext, harming Her Majesty’s virtuous reputation.”

Back in the day, Emperor Si had acted with swift and decisive force, ordering many distant branches of the imperial clan – those who held no noble titles but wielded considerable power – to be transferred out of the clan through maternal lineages. This had caused considerable turmoil in the court afterward, so she was later compelled to select a few among them and arrange marriages with the imperial clan. In effect, without overturning her previous decrees, she restored the imperial clan status of some descendants of those who had been transferred out through marital ties.

Since there was ample room for maneuver within ritual and legal frameworks, and given that precedents existed for reference, the ministers could certainly help whitewash matters in the court of public opinion on the Emperor’s behalf.

Song Wenshu said slowly, “I once served alongside Grand Tutor Wen in the same court. She herself had expressed an intention to leave the clan.”

“Grand Tutor Wen” referred to Wen Jingmei’s mother. Though she had never actually held the title of Grand Tutor during her lifetime, because of her unwavering loyalty to the emperor, she was posthumously honored with the high rank of one of the Three Excellencies.

“Grand Tutor Wen truly had remarkable foresight.”

In truth, everyone present knew that Grand Tutor Wen had spoken that way back then because she feared that her family’s high status and power might arouse the Emperor’s suspicion. Thus, she left behind a pretext in advance, hoping that her descendants, should they sense danger, could promptly sever their ties to the imperial clan and thereby preserve their lives. No one could have anticipated such an unexpected turn of events.

After all, the matter of the Emperor’s grand wedding could not be decided by just a few people deliberating among themselves. The ministers exchanged views and then dispersed, each later hinting to others in private, helping to smooth the waters in advance on the Emperor’s behalf.

Chi Yi caught up with Song Wenshu. “Thank you for your assistance today.” She added, “I had thought you would not be pleased to see this outcome.”

Song Wenshu chuckled and shook his head. “The Emperor is a wise and enlightened sovereign…”

Before he could finish the sentence, Chi Yi understood his meaning.

The Emperor held great power, which could easily lead to unbridled behavior. Yet compared to her imperial ancestors, the current emperor had already shown extreme restraint when it came to matters of the inner palace. If the ministers stubbornly opposed her, it would more likely provoke a rebellious reaction, doing more harm than good.

“However, Attendant Chi, do not let your guard down too soon. We ministers can wholeheartedly scheme on Her Majesty’s behalf, but we still do not know how the State Preceptor himself feels about this.”