Wen Yanran had another unspoken thought – perhaps in the plan of the Marquis of Quanling, the governors of Xiangqing and Gaoyi Commandaries were merely pawns promoted to restore local order, only to be sacrificed later to appease the powerful families’ wrath. If Wen Yanran were to judge, she would believe that the two governors were largely loyal to the central authority. After all, in the Marquis of Quanling’s scheme, these two were likely to be summoned to Jianping, where they would face ruthless treatment from the central government. The power vacuum they left behind would first be filled by the deputy prefects. Wen Jinming’s reason for doing so was undoubtedly to facilitate her own actions by ensuring that local affairs in the commanderies would be managed by natives in the absence of the governors.
In times of disaster, it was not only the government that provided relief to the victims; some powerful administrators also compelled local wealthy families to contribute resources and manpower. Initially, the Cui family had consistently demonstrated strong support for the two governors, so those influential families naturally did not dare to resist. However, now that a clear rift had emerged between the two governors and the local gentry, the powerful families in the region were bound to take action.
Wen Yanran let out a light laugh and said leisurely, “If the contents of the document are true, yet Jianping mistakenly judges them as false and sends someone to arrest the two governors and bring them to the capital, the subsequent situation would not be hard to imagine.”
If tens of thousands of refugees had indeed emerged locally, yet the Emperor, out of fear of the Marquis of Quanling, not only refused to allocate funds and grain for disaster relief but also arrested the two governors who had been struggling to maintain order and brought them to the capital, the relationship between the regions and the central authority would inevitably grow more distant. Moreover, the common people, already pushed to the brink by the late emperor’s harsh rule, would harbor even deeper resentment toward Jianping.
Though Wen Yanran could still speak with composure at this moment, Chi Yi, who was standing in attendance outside the tent, felt her heart plunge into an icy abyss.
As a close attendant to the Emperor, Chi Yi was no fool. She could clearly grasp the insidious nature of the entire scheme.
If the earlier assumptions held true, then the previous Xuanyangzi was merely a pawn used to diminish Wen Jinming’s standing in the eyes of those in Jianping. Once they were successfully misled, the Emperor would be cast as a tyrant who prioritized personal interests over the welfare of the people, and the reputations of all the senior officials who supported the new sovereign would likewise suffer. As for the turmoil in the regions, while it would shake the foundations of the Great Zhou’s rule, it would also provide Wen Jinming with an opportunity to exploit the chaos.
The power of the body clock is formidable. Wen Yanran slowly closed her eyes, her voice now tinged with noticeable drowsiness. “The Marquis of Quanling is aiming to trade a minor loss for a major victory…”
The murmurs in the tent gradually softened, and breathing grew light and even – the Emperor had fallen asleep. Outside, Chi Yi remained motionless, standing guard. It was only much later that she noticed her hands, still clutching the documents, had grown stiff and sore.
In stark contrast to her aide’s inner turmoil, Wen Yanran’s composure remained unshaken. After waking from her nap, she even sent for some pastries from the imperial kitchen as a light meal.
Draped in an outer robe and seated on a wooden couch as a court attendant styled her hair, Wen Yanran noticed Chi Yi’s pallor and said with a light laugh, “Go and rest for a while. Let Ah-Luo take over here.” After a pause, she instructed another lady-in-waiting, “Fetch a box of calming incense for Vice Commissioner Chi and summon Minister Lu.”
It was clear she herself would have no trouble sleeping – while the situation appeared treacherous on the surface, the initiative lay entirely in her hands. If anyone were to lose sleep over this game of chess, it would be Wen Jinming, who still dared not enter the capital.
Lu Yuanguang was a woman, and since the Emperor currently had no inner court consorts, she was summoned directly to the living quarters. She had originally intended to be a model of decorum, avoiding any undue curiosity, but instead, she happened upon the Emperor amusing herself with a barbecue right in her own bedroom.
“…”
In any other household, a child engaging in such behavior would likely face scolding from family members. However, the one with the brazier in her room was none other than Wen Yanran herself. Even if she were barbecuing by her bedside – or even on the bed – Lu Yuanguang could only pretend it was a perfectly normal activity.
Wen Yanran was grilling halved lignin – a fruit that somewhat resembles an apple but is smaller in size, primarily used in the palace as a fragrance for scenting clothes.
Before Lu Yuanguang arrived, Wen Yanran’s grilling session had clearly been going on for quite some time. Even the drapes and curtains in the hall had absorbed the sweet-and-sour fruity fragrance released by the steaming lingin juice.
Seeing Lu Yuanguang enter, Wen Yanran set down the iron skewer and offered her a seat.
After Lu Yuanguang finished paying her respects, most of the palace attendants withdrew from the bedchamber with light steps, closing the doors from the outside. Only a few, such as Zhang Luo, remained in place.
Witnessing this scene, a faint sense of unease stirred within her.
The palace attendants cleared away the fruits that had been grilled by the Emperor to a half-cooked state and were clearly no longer edible. Wen Yanran stretched her hands toward the fire to warm them, then smiled at the newcomer and said, “I summoned you, Minister Lu, to discuss the issues in Gaoyi and Xiangqing.”
Zhang Luo stepped closer and presented the earlier document from Gaoyi Commandery to Lu Yuanguang.
Leaning against the armrest, Wen Yanran spoke at a leisurely pace, “As the Vice Minister of Revenue, tell me, in your opinion, could the matters described in that document possibly be true?”
The hall fell into complete silence. Wen Yanran did not press for a quick reply. Instead, she closed her eyes, assuming the posture of taking a short rest.
Lu Yuanguang stood in place for a long time. Upon hearing the Emperor’s question, she was first puzzled, then confused, and then wondered if the Emperor intended to use this as an opportunity to arrange something. After a while, it was as if a thunderclap had struck her mind – an answer she could hardly accept emerged before her eyes, and a chilling coldness spread from the depths of her heart. Though the hall was as warm as spring, her face turned deathly pale, and she was drenched in sweat.
During the court deliberations earlier, she had been filled with eagerness, believing she could likely secure the position of Minister of Revenue by refuting the reports from the two commanderies, envisioning a bright future ahead. Only now did she realize that if even thirty percent of the document’s contents were true, she would be the one responsible for delaying disaster relief. Once the matter came to light, not only would she face personal ruin and the collapse of her family, but she would also be condemned by history!
Lu Yuanguang no longer dared to remain seated. She immediately rose and performed a deep, respectful bow to the emperor, pressing her forehead to the ground. “Thank you, Your Majesty!”
She had always admired the Emperor’s capabilities, but now, that admiration was mingled with profound gratitude.
By now, the Emperor had not only preserved her personal reputation and future but also safeguarded her entire family. At this point, even sacrificing her life would be insufficient to repay such a debt. To put it bluntly, even if the Emperor were to suddenly become a tyrant and plunge the nation into chaos, Lu Yuanguang would be among the ministers who would follow their sovereign to the grave.
Wen Yanran opened her eyes and gave a slight nod.
Since even Lu Yuanguang acknowledged the possibility that the contents of the document might be true, it was all the more necessary to take this possibility into consideration.
Though Lu Yuanguang had been granted a seat, she did not dare to sit. With the Emperor having pointed out an alternative outcome, she now found herself teetering on the edge of dismissal. Others might still rein themselves in before it was too late, but Lu Yuanguang had already publicly dismissed the document as false earlier that day and could not escape responsibility no matter what.
Wen Yanran glanced at her and smiled. “If the Marquis of Quanling intended to mislead, the contents of the document are likely not entirely true. Moreover, the misconduct of the two commandery officials is a matter witnessed by all.”
Lu Yuanguang removed her official cap and knelt to plead guilty. “It is entirely due to my incompetence.”
Wen Yanran reached out and gestured for the other to rise. As a future tyrant whose sole ambition was to squander the family legacy, she clearly had no issue with subordinates who faltered at critical moments. Instead, she offered words of comfort, “The reason you alone, Minister Lu, find yourself in peril today is precisely because you were the only one who stepped forward to challenge the situation. If a person does nothing, of course, others will struggle to find fault with them. Yet, it is largely such individuals who have contributed to the empire’s decline to this state. The more diligent and earnest one is in their duties, the more easily others may seize upon their mistakes.”
Lu Yuanguang bowed her head. Had the Emperor not already helped her up, she would have been compelled to kneel and bow once more.
For most people, possessing either benevolence or authority alone is enough to command others. What is truly rare is that the present Sovereign embodies both. Lu Yuanguang had never understood why, after the Changxing Rebellion, it was the Ninth Princess who succeeded to the throne. Now, it seemed clear to her: the current Emperor was a born ruler – the throne was rightfully hers to occupy.
Wen Yanran said slowly, “All the ministers at court believe that the Chief Clerics of the two commanderies are at fault. It would be inappropriate for me to go against the general consensus…” She paused briefly, then smiled slightly. “Since the Chief Clerics are deemed unfit, and the situations in Gaoyi and Xiangqing are critical, I shall replace them with two reliable chief officials.”
Lu Yuanguang’s heart stirred, and she promptly voiced her agreement.
Though it was framed as replacing the chief officials, the changes would certainly extend beyond that, including subordinate staff. By informing her in advance, the Emperor was signaling her to prepare – to select a few trustworthy and capable individuals from the Ministry of Revenue.
The Emperor was concerned not only about the excessive number of refugees but also about the possibility of the Marquis of Quanling and his faction legitimately seizing control of the provincial granaries. By dispatching personnel from the central government, the aim was both to assist and to exert control.
Wen Yanran reflected, “Local governance has become lax, with widespread concealed lands and unregistered households. Even if the commandery granaries are empty, the local powerful families surely have reserves of their own.”
Lu Yuanguang understood the Emperor’s implication – she clearly had no intention of allocating grain from the provincial granaries, nor would she turn a blind eye to the local disaster. Instead, she planned to dispatch personnel from the central government to compel the local wealthy families to provide relief. These influential local clans had amassed their wealth by exploiting loopholes in state regulations, so it was justifiable, both morally and legally, for local officials to extract some resources from them when addressing such crises.
Wen Yanran smiled faintly. “That matters have come to this is still a reflection of my insufficient authority and virtue.”
Lu Yuanguang lowered her head – while the powerful families might have been waiting to gauge their advantages, in the eyes of the Emperor, their intentions no longer mattered.
For the Emperor had already ascended the throne, and the rightful relationship between sovereign and subject was firmly established across the land!
Wen Yanran suddenly murmured softly to herself, “Commander Luo has been in his post for quite some time now. Shouldn’t Minister Guo have arrived at the forward camp by now?”
The “Commander Luo” she referred to was Luo Yue, the newly appointed commander of the Imperial Guard’s Central Guards, recommended by Wang Qishi. As for “Minister Guo,” it was Guo Xingdao, who had been nominated alongside Luo Yue and was assigned to the forward camp.
Lu Yuanguang thought to herself that by saying this, the Emperor had likely already taken into account the possibility of refugee uprisings.
Wen Yanran then turned her gaze to the young court official before her and smiled. “The Chief Clerics of the two commanderies are currently detained in the Oblique Dungeon. The palace eunuchs are unfamiliar with the details of the matter. Since you, Minister Lu, have served in the Ministry of Revenue for many years, could you assist me in interrogating them about the local specifics?”
Lu Yuanguang immediately rose and bowed deeply to the Emperor, accepting the assignment – interrogating prisoners at Oblique Dungeon was by no means part of a Ministry of Revenue Vice Minister’s duties. Under normal circumstances, an official of her background – born into a respected scholarly family, young, and with a promising future – would never have been willing to involve herself in the affairs of the inner court. Yet after today, even if Wen Yanran ordered her to dig up the late emperor’s tomb, Lu Yuanguang would not utter a word of protest.
After the official had withdrawn, Wen Yanran turned to her attendants and asked, “How many children does the Director of the Imperial Household have?”
A perpetually cheerful smile seemed etched on Zhang Luo’s honest, round face, as though no negative emotion could ever cloud it. He replied genially, “The Minister hails from Jianzhou and has no children of his own. He adopted a son and a daughter from his clan. The elder daughter is twenty-one, and the son is fourteen, not yet of capping age. Both are currently studying in the countryside.”
Wen Yanran gave a slight nod.
As a close attendant to the Emperor, Zhang Luo naturally understood what she was truly asking, just as Wen Yanran grasped the deeper meaning behind his reply – the number and ages of the Minister’s children were merely surface details. The true significance lay in the final part of his statement: “studying in the countryside” implied that neither had yet entered official service.
Although the Director of the Imperial Household belonged to the inner court officials, he still held a high-ranking third-grade position. While it might be challenging for him to secure prestigious or critical appointments for his family members, arranging an official post for his children would certainly not be difficult. The fact that he had them studying in the countryside might suggest their lack of talent, necessitating a low profile. However, a more plausible explanation was the political turmoil at the end of the Changxing era, which had cost even many influential scholar-officials their lives, let less those inner court officials without solid foundations. Hou Suo, likely fearing repercussions for his family, had sent his children far away for their safety.
