Half a Spoiler Chapter 3

Wen Yanran did not give an immediate reply, nor did she allow the other party to rise. Instead, she walked unhurriedly to stand before the late emperor’s coffin. Facing the elderly man whose devotion to the role of “Imperial Mentor” seemed practically written on his face, she spoke gently, “I recall that among those currently confined within Jianping is also my Seventh Brother. Unfortunately, he now languishes in captivity…”

There was not the slightest attempt to avoid the topic – Wen Yanran mentioned, head-on, the very name that most unsettled the Zheng clan.

“Tell me, Grand Tutor – why was my Seventh Brother imprisoned that day?”

Grand Tutor Yuan’s face twitched slightly before he answered,

“The late emperor rebuked His Highness the Seventh Prince and ordered the Imperial Guards to confine him within the Youtai.”

‘Youtai’ literally means “tomb.” In Great Zhou, like the ‘Violence Chamber,’ it refers to a prison specifically used to detain nobles and high officials.

Wen Yanran said, “Since he was reprimanded, those who attended upon him must surely know the reason.”

As she spoke, her gaze fell directly upon the Director of the Imperial Household, the intent of her inquiry made unmistakably clear.

Wen Yanran knew that when a question was difficult to answer, if she addressed it to everyone present, no one would be willing to step forward and take the lead. But if she fixed her attention on just one person – especially when she spoke from the position of the sovereign – the other party would hardly dare offend her and would most likely choose to answer honestly.

Sensing the Emperor’s gaze upon him, the Director shuddered. Since his knees had already buckled once, they could just as easily buckle a second time. So, with practiced ease, he knelt again and stammered his report:

“The late emperor once declared that His Highness the Seventh Prince acted with wild arrogance, consorted secretly with depraved associates, accepted bribes from eunuchs, slandered the ancestral temple, and harbored ambitions toward the heir apparent – truly unworthy of being called a son of the imperial family.”

“…”

Between question and answer, the entire hall fell silent – so silent that not even the flutter of a sparrow could be heard.

Standing off to the side, Zheng Yinchuan’s face first flushed red, then slowly turned pale.

Wen Yanran nodded in satisfaction and turned to smile at that member of the Zheng clan:

“What you just said makes sense. Since I have inherited the late emperor’s legacy and been entrusted with the fate of the realm, it is only right that I fulfill the duties of filial piety and fraternal respect.”

After all, she had once seen the spoilers in the comment section. She knew well about the long-standing conflict between the Zheng and Cui clans.

For most players, unless they chose to start the game as either the Fourth Princess or the Seventh Prince, the common strategy was to maintain a delicate balance between the two factions – let the Cui and Zheng families keep fighting each other, preserving overall stability. Then, once both sides had worn each other down and no longer had the strength to resist, the player could subdue them both and bring them under their own control.

In the minds of most court officials, even if the new emperor harbored a thousand thoughts of getting rid of those covetous brothers and sisters, she would still have to wait – wait for the government to stabilize, and also to avoid earning a lasting reputation for cruelty.

But Wen Yanran wanted that infamy, and she cared not in the slightest if others would one day drag up today’s events to condemn her.

After finishing her exchange with Zheng Yinchuan, she directly summoned the Minister of Justice from the Grand Court of Revision. The man had only held the position for two days, and when facing the Emperor in a one-on-one audience, he was visibly nervous – his steps uneven as he made his way to the center of the grand hall.

Wen Yanran said, “In that case, have your men bring the commoner Wen Jiangong here.”

Not Prince Wen Jiangong, but commoner Wen Jiangong.

Having been singled out, the Minister of Justice had no choice but to obey, even though he wanted nothing more than to stay clear of the conflict between the Cui and Zheng factions. He had only just sent someone to the Youtai to fetch the prisoner when the Emperor called him back, ordering him to list Wen Jiangong’s crimes right there in court.

The Minister of Justice: “…”

Feeling Zheng Yinchuan’s gaze from across the hall, he was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to retire and go home to the countryside.

If the Fourth Princess could be said to have concealed her nature well, then the Seventh Prince was a villain whose corruption was all too obvious. As a royal, beyond coveting the position of crown prince, he had also engaged in factionalism, sold titles and offices for profit, oppressed men and women, and seized others’ lands – only his imperial status had kept him from being formally tried and executed.

Wen Yanran stood atop the palace steps.

Only after the Minister of Justice finally finished reciting the long list of charges did the former Seventh Prince himself get brought in from the Youtai Prison.

At this sight, the Qianyuan Hall fell utterly silent – so silent that one could hear a pin drop. Many of the courtiers felt their hearts pounding like drums, a tightness in their chests that made it hard to breathe.

They were all waiting to see how the Emperor would deal with Wen Jiangong.

Since the former Seventh Prince had been imprisoned in the Youtai, his treatment had naturally been far from what it once was, and his appearance showed clear signs of exhaustion and decline. The imperial guards who escorted him, sensing the new emperor’s intent, no longer treated this fallen noble with the courtesies once due to a prince.

When Wen Jiangong was brought into the hall, even the band that bound his hair had already come loose.

As a low-ranking official from the Ministry of Revenue, Han Shijing stood near the palace doors. From her position, she couldn’t see the expression of the sovereign standing atop the steps – but she did see the action that no one could have anticipated.

Before the gathered civil and military officials, Wen Yanran suddenly drew the sword from her waist.

“Your Majesty!”

Several ministers’ faces changed drastically; someone cried out in alarm on the spot -only to see the emperor reverse her grip on the long sword, gaze sweeping over the assembled court as she smiled slightly and said:

“Who among you will take this sword and execute the commoner Wen Jiangong on my behalf?”

Han Shijing’s mind went completely blank. When she looked up, she saw that most of the officials’ faces showed varying degrees of shock and disbelief.

As a minor clerk of insignificant rank, Han Shijing had never understood why the late emperor had chosen such a successor before his death.

But now, in this moment, all her earlier unease and fear suddenly subsided – so what if the Zheng clan was an old family of generations of officials? The new sovereign was the Son of Heaven, and naturally possessed the bearing of one. How could such a person ever be cowed by others!

The hem of Zheng Yinchuan’s robe trembled slightly as cold sweat slid down his temples. His family had thought everything through carefully: the Ninth Princess had no powerful maternal relatives, her own aptitude was unremarkable, and she had yet to even enter formal study. Surely such a withdrawn and timid young monarch would be easy to manipulate.

Had they known she possessed this kind of presence, the Zhengs would never have dared to provoked the Emperor directly – right here in the Qianyuan Hall.

As soon as Wen Yanran’s words fell, a figure stepped briskly out from among the assembled officials and declared in a clear, ringing voice, “Your servant He Tingyun is willing to execute this vile traitor on Your Majesty’s behalf!”

He Tingyun was a Censor in the imperial court.

She knew well that the Seventh Prince’s crimes were countless, yet because of his royal blood, the most he could usually expect was house arrest. In fact, by convention, a new emperor – eager to display benevolence – might even grant him pardon or leniency.

But the scene before her rekindled something fierce within He Tingyun. When she heard the sovereign’s question, she stepped forward without hesitation and knelt respectfully before the throne.

Wen Yanran was equally decisive – she reversed her grip on the sword and handed the weapon straight to He Tingyun.

At this sight, several ministers nearby couldn’t help turning pale.

If He Tingyun harbored even the slightest ill intent, she could have driven that sword straight through the new emperor on the spot.

He Tingyun accepted the long sword, immediately stepped back a few paces, then turned and walked, step by deliberate step, toward the former Seventh Prince.

Wen Jiangong, who had moments ago been a mix of confusion and rage, now wore a face drained to ashen gray. He glared at He Tingyun for a long moment before his gaze leapt past her to the sister standing upon the dais. In a burst of fury, he shouted, Father’s bones are barely cold, and you, Wen Jiu – vying for the throne and murdering your brother before his spirit – Heaven itself will despise you–”

Before the last word left his mouth, He Tingyun’s sword swept down. The blow severed not only his speech but his life. Before the eyes of the entire court, a spray of hot blood burst from the neck of the once-noble prince, arcing more than three feet through the air before splattering across the stone floor of Qianyuan Hall.

After He Tingyun cleanly executed Wen Jiangong, she held the sword in both hands and walked back before the throne, kneeling once more in respectful salute.

Outside, the sky was shrouded in clouds, but within the Qianyuan Hall, white candles burned like stars, illuminating every corner with stark clarity. Han Shijing cautiously lifted her gaze toward the dais, then quickly lowered it again – though the sovereign’s robes were spotless, there was something uncanny about her presence, as if the scent of blood clung invisibly to her.

Wen Yanran extended a hand in a gesture of support and praised her, “You are brave and upright.”

Then her eyes swept lightly over Zheng Yinchuan, who was still prostrate on the floor, and she smiled. “The traitor has been dealt with. As for the remaining members of the imperial clan still within Jianping – just as Minister Zheng has suggested, summon them all to mourn before the late emperor’s spirit.”

She paused, her gaze lingering on Zheng Yinchuan for quite some time before speaking again, slowly, “For your bold and candid counsel, Minister Zheng, you shall be promoted to the rank of Vice Minister.”

The Zheng clan was the family of the Seventh Prince’s mother. Now that Wen Jiangong had been executed in the hall, they would no doubt seek an opportunity to avenge his death. By promoting a member of the Zheng family, Wen Yanran’s true aim was to help them gather strength – so that they might one day stand openly in opposition to her, the so-called “fatuous ruler.”

“…”

For a moment, Qianyuan Hall was utterly silent.

Both the Emperor’s act of execution and her unexpected reward had caught everyone off guard. Han Shijing noticed that a flicker of thoughtful calculation had just passed across the face of her superior, Lu Yuanguang.

Three days had passed since the officials had knelt before the late emperor’s spirit to petition the Ninth Princess to ascend the throne. During those three days, aside from mourning at the funeral rites and preparing for the new emperor’s enthronement ceremony, the ministers of Jianping had done little else but speculate over the young sovereign’s every move.

On the day after Wen Yanran executed the former Seventh Prince in open court and promoted Zheng Yinchuan to Vice Minister, she went a step further – elevating He Tingyun, once an ordinary Censor, directly to the post of Censor-in-Chief.

The Censor-in-Chief was one of the Nine Ministers – and although by now most of those nine offices had become largely ceremonial, the Censorate itself still held genuine power, and its head wielded considerable authority.

Wen Yanran’s decision made many ministers suddenly realize: the new sovereign had neither a powerful maternal clan nor any trusted confidants at court. Whoever managed to win her favor first could expect a meteoric rise in rank.

As for Wen Yanran herself, her choice was based on something quite different – she remembered that, in the comment section, He Tingyun had been nicknamed “Suspended He,” notorious for slacking off and posting things like “No official can save the people of Great Zhou.” It was precisely that defeated, jaded attitude that made Wen Yanran assign her a heavy responsibility without hesitation.

The ministers, of course, who knew nothing of such “meta” reasoning, saw the matter in a very different light.

In the Lu residence on the eastern side of the city.

It was still the period of national mourning. From the highest civil and military officials down to the common folk, all were forbidden to hold banquets or indulge in merrymaking. Even the Ministry of Revenue officials, such as Han Shijing and her colleagues, who had quietly come to their superior’s estate, were merely drinking tea and chatting softly in his study.

After a few casual exchanges, someone could no longer hold back their curiosity and asked Lu Yuanguang what she thought about the recent events.

Lu Yuanguang said, “I have indeed been carefully reflecting on the recent events.”
She then continued, “In my view, though Her Majesty is still young, she already has a clear and deliberate plan in mind.”

Someone beside him asked, “If she has such a plan, then why did she have to offend the Zheng clan?”

Lu Yuanguang gave a cold laugh.

“Offend? What offense is there to speak of? The Zhengs are but subjects, while Her Majesty is the Emperor. And now that the Sev- that commoner Wen Jiangong is dead, the Zheng family will most likely turn to support the new emperor instead.”

At first, the others in the study looked puzzled – but one by one, their faces lit up with sudden understanding.

Lu Yuanguang lowered her voice and said, “The reason Her Majesty both executed and rewarded on that day was twofold – first, to cut off the Zheng clan’s escape route; second, to calm the hearts of the court.”

If Wen Jiangong were still alive, the Zhengs might never have abandoned him to side with another. And what made the situation even more clever was that Wen Yanran herself had no powerful maternal family to rely on, nor any close ministers by her side.

Lu Yuanguang gave a quiet sigh.

“If the Zheng clan can harden their hearts, they might well rise to great power.”

Someone nearby asked, “Then, in your opinion, what should we do?”

Lu Yuanguang pondered for a moment before replying, “Her Majesty appointed He Tingyun as Censor-in-Chief because she was the first to declare her loyalty. The public promotion serves as a gesture of reward. Otherwise, merely executing a rebellious prince – could that alone be deemed worthy of a Nine-Minister post?”

Another official mused, “Ah, so His Majesty is buying the horse’s bones with a thousand gold pieces – rewarding one to inspire the rest.”

Lu Yuanguang nodded.

“Indeed. We are already one step behind Minister He. All the more reason we must choose the right moment to make our loyalty clear to the throne.”

At the very same time that Lu Yuanguang was meeting with her colleagues, discussions were also taking place within the Zheng residence.

The patriarch of the Zheng clan – Zheng Yinchuan’s father, Zheng Shengde – sat silently in his chair, his face marked with exhaustion. In just a few short days, he seemed to have aged more than ten years.

They had once been the maternal family of a prince, but now they were the kin of a condemned traitor.

One anxious clansman said urgently,

“The Zheng family now stands on the edge of disaster, my lord. Will you still not speak to guide us?”

Zheng Shengde remained silent, but Zheng Yinchuan spoke instead, asking, “Then tell me, in your view, where exactly does this danger lie?”

The clansman hesitated for a moment before giving a bitter smile and shaking his head.

“If you already have a plan in mind, why not speak it plainly?”

Zheng Yinchuan looked toward his father, and when the elder gave a faint nod, he gathered his courage and said, “Her Majesty executed the Seventh Prince in open court, yet promoted me soon after. It was meant to reassure us – publicly severing the bond between the Zheng clan and the late Seventh Prince.”