Half a Spoiler Chapter 25

The officials in the hall were all carefully reading the confession that had just been submitted.

The confession listed the misdeeds Xuanyangzi had committed in the past. This man -renowned far and wide and regarded by many as an immortal “great master” – turned out to have an utterly sordid true face. He combined the worst traits of local bullies and bandits, committing crimes such as seizing wealth, taking lives, and stealing others’ property – too many to count.

In addition, it detailed the tricks Xuanyangzi used to deceive the public. He knew no such “turning stone into gold” magic. The so-called gold he used to fool people was merely brass. Zhao Ju’s sleight of hand was clever – before anyone could inspect it, he quietly switched the brass with gold pieces of similar size, thus pulling off the deception. As for “speaking with immortals,” it was nothing more than a few vocal techniques. Outsiders could not enter the room; hearing only voices, they naturally assumed a celestial being had truly descended.

At the end of the confession, it further noted that Xuanyangzi was not actually named Zhao Ju and had no relation whatsoever to the Zhao clan of Xuzhou. His real name was Tian Dongyang, an ordinary fellow who mixed among the city’s common folk.

Wen Yanran: “…”

Compared to the ministers who, upon hearing that Xuanyangzi was actually a commoner, immediately concluded that he couldn’t possibly be anything remarkable, Wen Yanran’s mood at this moment could only be described as surging like a storm-tossed sea.

So this guy was Tian Dongyang?!

But how could this guy be Tian Dongyang?!

Wen Yanran brooded gloomily. The readers in the comment section had so helpfully spoiled the key plot points for her, yet she had somehow managed to prematurely flatten a villain seedling who was supposed to play an important role later on. She felt she had let down all those meticulously written comments…

Sure enough, achieving one’s transmigration goals wasn’t nearly so easy; the path ahead was filled with all kinds of unforeseeable traps. Just because she’d seen spoilers and had accurate knowledge of certain important characters didn’t mean she could underestimate how difficult it would be to topple Great Zhou.

Still, as a transmigrator who had taken “being a tyrant” as her personal mission, Wen Yanran had at least built up some psychological resilience. She felt that she shouldn’t shoulder the entire blame for this; most of it ought to be placed on Tian Dongyang himself – his current misfortune was mainly due to his own lack of the comprehensive qualities required of a worthwhile villain. He had chosen to pull a long face at the wrong time – before he had built a proper foundation and before he understood the temperament of the sovereign.

Wen Yanran calmly set down the confession and silently looked at the assembled ministers in the hall.

Many of the ministers felt that while the young sovereign’s words always carried an invisible pressure, her silence now did not lessen that pressure – in fact, it only continued to intensify.

Earlier, that Minister Song had thought that in today’s confrontation between ruler and officials, the Emperor had clearly gained the upper hand. Yet why was there not the slightest hint of satisfaction on her face?

After thinking for a moment, he understood – the Emperor was not seizing upon her ministers’ mistakes as a means to consolidate power, but because she wanted the ministers to reflect on their own faults so that they might assist her better. Since she was truly a wise ruler, why would she feel joy at her ministers’ errors?

Amid the silence, Lu Yuanguang stepped forward of her own accord.

She was the Vice Minister of Revenue, and – as expected – she spoke regarding the household-registration issues related to the offender.

Tian Dongyang had been a mere commoner, yet he managed to impersonate the son of a prominent family and, using that false identity, rise swiftly through the ranks all the way to Jianping – only to finally be exposed. This, too, reflected the appalling state of local administration.

However, though the matter was serious, following every thread would be endlessly complicated. With the court currently suffering from numerous vacancies, it was impractical to dispatch people for a thorough investigation. For now, they could only clarify how he managed to enter Jianping and deal with it according to the law.

In addition, Tian Dongyang had gathered far too many followers, most of whom were merely deluded commoners. Naturally, these people could not be treated as criminals. The court would therefore need to post official notices and send envoys deep into the countryside to explain Xuanyangzi’s true nature clearly, so as to enlighten the populace.

All the ministers present were highly experienced in their duties. Once they had determined the essence of the events surrounding Xuanyangzi, they quickly settled the details of the follow-up measures. Seeing that it was nearly time for the palace gates to be locked, Grand Tutor Yuan and the others could not continue lingering in the inner palace, so they requested leave. Wen Yanran approved several passes permitting travel during curfew, allowing the ministers to return to their homes.

After the ministers departed, the front hall of Western Yong Palace quickly became spacious and empty.

Wen Yanran leaned motionless against the armrest with her eyes closed, silently reflecting on the results of today’s work.

Zhang Luo and the others had originally been standing by quietly. When they realized the sovereign had no intention of opening her eyes, they worried she might simply fall asleep there, and had to speak softly, “Your Majesty, it is late. You should retire for the night.”

Wen Yanran nodded with her eyes still closed, but did not rise. A female official stepped forward to drape a cloak over her, while the close attendants beside her gently moved the desk aside. Then they slid two horizontal poles through the wooden slots on either side of the chair and lifted the entire chair up.

This was a chair-litter. Outwardly, it looked no different from an ordinary chair, but when it was made, special mechanisms had been included to allow for fitting carrying poles and a canopy. Such devices had been passed down through Great Zhou’s traditions, and the palace had many similar conveniences to help nobles indulge in a bit of laziness.

When they reached the corridor, Wen Yanran lifted a hand and lightly tapped the side of the litter.

“Stop for a moment.”

The palace attendants halted as instructed. Wen Yanran straightened slightly and lifted her gaze to look far out at the moonlit view beyond the corridor.

The thick layers of clouds that had filled the sky had finally parted a little, revealing the bright moon behind them.

The snow had stopped and the wind was still. But the accumulated snow blanketed the palace roofs, the trees, and the pathways – stretching as far as the eye could see, rising and falling like waves. Under the moonlight, the snow looked like an expanse of pure white sea.

As Wen Yanran gazed at the scene before her, a line of poetry suddenly surfaced in her mind.

“Generation after generation, human life knows no end; year after year, the river-moon looks the same.”

The young emperor, wrapped in a fox-fur cloak, smiled faintly and murmured to herself, “The New Year is almost here.”

Chi Yi had been overseeing the Xuanyangzi matter at the Oblique Dungeon earlier. Knowing that the ministers had already departed, she hurried back without stopping and now stood waiting in the bedchamber.

She had also been busy the entire day, yet somehow looked even more vigorous than Wen Yanran, who had been able to rest here and there.

Wen Yanran thought, Chi Yi truly lived up to the reputation given to her by the comment section – as a future power minister, her energy was indeed extraordinary…

While attending the Emperor during her wash-up, Chi Yi also reported, “Xuanyangzi’s disciples have had frequent dealings with several noble families in the capital. Tomorrow, some of them may come to plead their case before Your Majesty.”

After hearing this, Wen Yanran casually asked, “What is Marquis Dong’s reputation like in the capital?”

Chi Yi replied, “Though they are a marquis’ household, the Dong clan currently holds no prominent posts at court. They tend to keep quiet and, from what I hear, don’t cause much trouble.”

For a marquisate like theirs, if the close-line descendants really wished to become officials, they could still manage to obtain some minor position. But to attain high office and great rank, one needed sufficient ability – and the luck not to be held back.

Wen Yanran smiled. “They don’t cause much trouble, hmm?” She then asked, “And how old is Marquis Dong?”

Chi Yi answered, “He has already passed the age of thirty.”

Wen Yanran nodded.

Chi Yi came from an ordinary background and now served within the inner palace, so many matters from outside would naturally not reach her ears. The fact that she could answer every question meant she had clearly done plenty of homework in advance.

Wen Yanran casually instructed, “The palace attendants who accompanied me today stood in the corridor far too long. Go tell Ah-Luo to prepare some hot soup in a bit and distribute it to them.”

Chi Yi bowed her head and responded in assent.

Wen Yanran was sitting on the edge of the bed, seemingly about to say something when she suddenly paused. She glanced at Chi Yi and smiled. “There will be much to attend to tomorrow. You should retire early as well.”

As a ranked inner official, Chi Yi naturally had living quarters arranged by the Imperial Household Department. Yet she spent most of her time squeezed into a small room in the Western Yong Palace, all for the sake of being readily available to serve before the Emperor.

By the lamplight, Zhang Luo took a careful look at his colleague’s complexion and handed her a bowl of ginger soup. “Is something troubling you?”

Chi Yi accepted the bowl, took a sip to moisten her throat, and then replied with utmost sincerity, “The brilliance of Her Majesty’s sagely insight is so dazzling that it fills my heart with trepidation.”

Zhang Luo was a man of intricate foresight. In certain branching storylines, he even managed to become a powerful eunuch, precisely because he excelled at cultivating allies and henchmen. Having learned that the Emperor had lingered on the corridor while admiring the moon tonight, how could he possibly forget to prepare hot soup and distribute it among the palace staff?

Chi Yi was well aware that her colleague had already sent someone to prepare the ginger soup. Yet, when the Emperor gave the order, she could not simply mention that Zhang Luo had already taken care of it. The relationship between the Emperor and their close attendants was not that of an ordinary superior and subordinate – one side held the power of life and death over the other. Allowing the Emperor to feel that their personal attendants were more meticulous than they themselves had anticipated was never a good thing.

She dared not say more, but the Emperor independently grasped the situation. Not only did the Emperor discern Zhang Luo’s actions, but they also understood the reason behind Chi Yi’s silence.

Chi Yi tugged at Zhang Luo’s sleeve and whispered, “When you look after the palace staff in the future, be sure to remind them that it is the Emperor’s grace you are bestowing.”

Zhang Luo grasped the crucial point of her words almost instantly. Being a decisive person, he immediately bowed deeply. “Thank you for the guidance.”

The snow had stopped yesterday, but this morning it began drifting down again in flurries.

As a close attendant to Wen Yanran, Chi Yi had long grown accustomed to the Emperor’s unfailing foresight. So when she rose and saw the Director of the Imperial Household kneeling at the entrance of the Western Yong Palace to plead for forgiveness, she was not the least bit surprised.

That day, when the Emperor had made a remark about longevity in the Zhier Pavilion, Xuanyangzi immediately began frenetically building momentum in the capital… Comparing the two events, it was clear the leak had come from someone among the Emperor’s personal attendants.

The Western Yong Palace, under the management of Chi Yi and Zhang Luo, remained orderly both inside and out. In contrast, the Imperial Household Department was considerably more lax.

The Director of the Imperial Household had removed his official cap and was kneeling in the snow, dressed in plain clothing, trembling uncontrollably.

It had finally dawned on him: his first mistake had been his intention to suppress Chi Yi and Zhang Luo, and his second was now attempting to flatter the Emperor through the use of occult masters.

That day, the Emperor had shown mercy by bestowing a meal, forgiving their first offense.

But having erred once, how could they afford to repeat the mistake?

In the past, he had truly failed to exercise restraint, and he had no idea whether the Emperor would grant him another chance.

Some attendants in the Western Yong Palace, owing favors to the Imperial Household Department, considered speaking on the minister’s behalf before the Emperor, but the minister himself stopped them.

After these successive setbacks, the Director of the Imperial Household had finally come to his senses. Allowing the Emperor to perceive his extensive connections within the palace would only add fuel to the fire. If the Emperor heard these pleas for leniency and still refused to pardon him, that would be one thing. But if the Emperor were to grant mercy and allow him to return and rest, it likely wouldn’t mean the matter was over – rather, it would be noted down, waiting for an opportunity to settle the score in full.

Chi Yi glanced briefly at the Director of the Imperial Household from the corridor before turning to manage the palace attendants. She then proceeded to the bedchamber to attend to the Emperor.

At that moment, Wen Yanran had just woken up and was reluctantly bidding a final farewell to the comfort of the bed.

Chi Yi reported, “The Director of the Imperial Household is outside the hall, seeking forgiveness.”

She was well aware that the Emperor must already know of the minister’s actions. Given Chi Yi’s temperament, she might not have spoken up in the past. But after the events of the previous night, she had gained a clearer understanding of her responsibilities.

Throughout history, deception and concealment have been rampant. Yet sometimes, it is not that subordinates intend to deceive, but rather that, constrained by subconscious reservations, they choose to remain silent. As a result, those in power are deprived of the most accurate information.

Chi Yi understood that the Emperor had rarely, if ever, explicitly reprimanded those close to her. Yet, Wen Yanran’s very presence was enough to compel those near the supreme ruler to engage in constant self-reflection.