FYM - 118

After the palace examination, the golden list was posted. Xu Zongyao from Pengzhou ranked third, former Xunzhou Governor Jia Xin and Hedong Circuit’s Li Fu ranked fourth, making them the top three candidates of this imperial examination.

According to the old customs of the Great Zhou, the first two ranks in the special imperial examination were honorary, and reaching the fourth rank already indicated the emperor’s favor. However, Xu Zongyao astonishingly entered the third rank right away and was immediately appointed as a fifth-rank official in charge of the Ministry of Revenue, which was two ranks higher than the starting position for past top imperial scholars. This was unprecedented. Jia Xin, who already held an official position, was promoted to the third-rank Vice Minister of Revenue, while Li Fu was appointed as a sixth-rank official in the Treasury Department. Thus, all three top candidates were assigned to the Ministry of Revenue, clearly signaling the court’s intention to enrich the people and consolidate the nation’s foundation.

Upon closer analysis, the Empress Dowager’s selection process was quite intriguing. The most prominent young scholar was from a humble background unrelated to either faction. The second-place winner, Jia Xin, was a son-in-law of the Song family, and the third-place winner, Li Fu, was recommended by the King of Yinping. In this way, both factions were given face. Yet, the most favored candidate publicly criticized factional disputes—this was like giving a slap followed by a sweet treat, showing a thorough understanding of political maneuvering.

For a woman to wield such tactics was indeed surprising. However, if she thought that relying on a few spirited young men could drastically implement her so-called new policies, she was gravely mistaken. The struggle between the two factions was fierce, with various powers deeply intertwined. Even Emperor Ruizong and Emperor Renzong couldn’t change it—what could a woman newly behind the curtain do? Xu Zongyao seemed destined to be crushed like an egg hitting a rock, set up high only to be shattered for everyone to see.

The civil and military officials each harbored their own thoughts and finally dispersed after the court session ended.

King Wei Bi of Yinping was particularly pleased today.

Although Li Fu, whom he recommended, did not secure the top spot, obtaining a sixth-rank position was still commendable. Moreover, Xu Zongyao, who seemed highly favored, opposed the Jinling faction. In a few days, when the new policies were implemented, it would also benefit the Luoyang faction—he had observed clearly today—the faces of the Song brothers leaving Qian Ding Palace were grim, especially Song Bo, whose beard seemed askew in anger as he fiercely flicked his sleeves at his niece behind the curtain.

He laughed so hard his eyes disappeared, and after leaving the palace, he hurried to block the entrance of the Marquis of Yingchuan’s residence. After much persuasion, he managed to meet Fang Xianting and eventually succeeded in inviting him to his mansion for dinner.

When Song Dan initially prepared for the capital relocation in Jinling, he had already arranged a very grand mansion for the King of Yinping. Unfortunately, the latter was still unsatisfied. After the relocation, he purchased two adjacent properties on the street, demolished the walls, and made the entire street part of his estate, dubbed by the common folk as “Little Tai Cheng.”

When the carriage of the Marquis of Yingchuan arrived, it was just the time when lanterns were lit. Wei Bi greeted the distinguished guest with a broad smile, but at the entrance, the servants signaled for the Lord Marquis’s guards to remove their swords. Fang Xianting showed no reaction outwardly, but his steps halted. Wei Bi quickly realized, turned around, and slapped one of his servants to the ground, scolding, “You blind fool! The Marquis can wear armor and carry a sword even in the palace, why must we adhere to so many rules here! —Quickly retreat!”

This was obviously a show of weakness and goodwill, with evident flattery. Fang Xianting remained silent, hands behind his back as he led his soldiers into the mansion.

By the time they reached the flower hall, a lavish banquet was already set, filled with delicacies and fine wine, reminiscent of the extravagant feasts before the war in Chang’an. Wei Bi eagerly gestured for the guest to sit, repeatedly saying, “Your esteemed presence honors my humble abode, granting me great face today! —Lord Marquis, please sit, please sit.”

Fang Xianting glanced at him and then slowly took his seat as instructed. Wei Bi clapped his hands, and performers began playing music and dancing in the courtyard. However, the guards stationed five steps apart around the yard, their weapons glinting coldly, overshadowed the soft beauty of the scene.

Wei Bi was dissatisfied inwardly but dared not show it. He carefully sat opposite Fang Xianting and personally picked up the wine jug to pour him a drink, enthusiastically saying, “I’ve long heard that you are well-versed in the art of drinking. If it weren’t for these fine jars of Xinfeng wine I recently acquired, I wouldn’t dare invite you. Please taste whether it carries the familiar flavor of old Chang’an?”

The clear wine poured into the cup, its aroma wafting ten miles. Lin Ze, standing behind Fang Xianting, immediately stepped forward to test for poison. Fang Xianting didn’t stop him and let him verify with a silver needle. This caused Wei Bi’s smile to stiffen momentarily, and he awkwardly put down the wine jug himself. When the silver needle didn’t change color, Lin Ze personally refilled a cup and presented it to the Marquis. Fang Xianting took it, sipped lightly, and found the taste strong and fragrant, very familiar from his youth.

“Good wine.”

He slightly raised an eyebrow.

Wei Bi noticed that the wine suited his taste and quickly picked up the wine jug to refill his cup, acting as if he hadn’t seen the earlier silver needle test. Casually reminiscing, he said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted such authentic Chang’an wine. I remember riding through the streets with your late father, drinking all night. Looking back now, it feels like a past life…”

This reminiscence flowed naturally, mentioning Fang Xianting’s father likely to forge a connection. Fang Xianting paused lifting the cup, looking at Wei Bi with a heavy gaze.

“Si Qi was always a man of deep sentiment…” Wei Bi appeared lost in memories, “…when we served together in the Eastern Palace assisting the late emperor, we went through countless trials. He always considered others first, ultimately sacrificing himself for the state… We can never match him. Reflecting on it now brings sorrow and shame…”

Saying this, he sighed again, genuine sorrow in his voice—after all, over a decade ago, he and Fang He had been close companions. Fang Xianting remembered how his father, often attacked by the Zhong faction in court, was frequently defended by Wei Bi and Fan Yucheng. Beyond official duties, they often visited the Duke’s residence, where the hall was always filled with lively banquets.

“My late father understood the situation at the time and sacrificed his life out of loyalty,” Fang Xianting’s expression softened, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes whenever he mentioned his father. “The late emperor’s diligence and love for the people embodied the virtues of a sage ruler. My father would have no regrets knowing this.”

“No regrets…” the King of Yinping echoed with a sigh, then poured himself a cup and drank it down. “Si Qi was noble and loyal beyond compare, dying for the country without regret—but what if he knew the current situation? What if he knew the young emperor is vulnerable and the five regents are disunited?”

“Yi Zhi,” his tone suddenly grew serious, “…we shouldn’t be this estranged.”

This address of “Yi Zhi” was abrupt; the last time he called him that was four or five years ago. Since the young emperor ascended the throne, their political views clashed, and they became estranged, losing the closeness they once shared under the late Duke.

“When Emperor Ruizong favored the Zhong family and intended to depose the legitimate heir for a concubine-born son, we risked everything to oppose the imperial will for the sake of the late emperor—did we have selfish motives? No! It was all for the country! For the common people!”

Wei Bi spoke with righteous indignation.

“It’s the same now…the discord between the Luoyang and Jinling factions—is it because I harbor personal grudges against the Song brothers? No! I fear the interference of the empress dowager’s relatives and the humiliation of the young emperor. I dread losing the northern territories and being unable to face the late emperor in the afterlife!”

His voice grew louder, full of emotion, his words earnest as if bearing great injustice. With a few sentences, he transformed his past attempts to force the throne and plot rebellion into moving acts of loyalty. Whoever didn’t believe him became the true villain.

“Yi Zhi…”

He continued drinking, his voice growing quieter.

“I know you are open-hearted and upright, following the late emperor’s teachings faithfully—you protect his empress and uphold the southern relocation edict. But are the Songs so easy to deal with? Just consider this special examination—how many people did Song Bo push onto Changren? Can’t you see his intentions? In the end, the Song family betrayed the late emperor! Not long after the Lishan incident, they fled back to their hometown in Jinling, disregarding your father’s final trust in them!”

“Only you and I walk the same path!”

“In the past, and now too! The golden list has been announced, and the new policies are imminent. Will the Jinling faction allow that young scholar to investigate the population and land? They will surely obstruct at every level, protecting each other. The orders won’t even leave the Ministry!”

“But if you and I join forces, how can those Song brothers act recklessly? The young emperor ultimately needs our protection. I am of the Wei family—how could I harm the Great Zhou?”

This heartfelt appeal almost brought tears to the eyes of the Marquis, who just weeks ago had his son beaten half to death. Fang Xianting remained noncommittal, his eyes half-closed, fingers lightly tapping the brimming wine cup. At that moment, the refined music in the courtyard changed tune, the performers retreated, and the sound of pearl curtains rustling was heard. Looking up, they saw a Qin zither placed amidst the moonlight and floral shadows, a woman in wide sleeves and high coiffure playing it solo, the melody flowing like a spring, reminiscent of old Chang’an elegance.

“That is my daughter, Wei Lan…”

The King of Yinping’s voice came again at this moment.

“Do you remember? The late emperor once bestowed upon her the title of Princess of Yong’an and repeatedly praised her zither skills… Alas, this child is lazy these days, rarely playing at home. Tonight, hearing of your visit, she…”

His ambiguous words trailed off as the woman in the courtyard gently raised her eyes. The pearl curtain before her resembled the one behind the dragon throne in the imperial palace, her gaze tender and affectionate—a girl in the prime of her youth.

“As they say, spirits may be respected but not flattered; enemies should reconcile rather than quarrel…”

Wei Bi stared unblinkingly at Fang Xianting’s expression, then again picked up the wine jug to refill his cup. The intoxicating aroma stirred emotions, and the quickening melody matched the poetic description of “lotus breaking waves, snow swirling in the wind.”

“Let the past be the past. Our families have always been close, and as members of the five regents, we should unite to support the young emperor. A peaceful and prosperous future would be a tribute to your father…”

Saying this, he poured himself a cup and raised it to toast with Fang Xianting, his gaze drifting to his youngest daughter, who had finished her piece and was rising to bow to the Marquis. Her eyes were deep with meaning as she said, “Let us resolve past grievances with this cup of wine… From now on, shall we become one body?”

The sweet wine of youth intoxicated pleasantly, but Fang Xianting’s eyes remained clear. Through Wei Bi, he looked at the daughter standing in the courtyard, gazing at him from afar. His mind conjured up a letter that had appeared on his desk a few days ago. The contemplative silence of someone in power was seductive, let alone the subtle allure of the small mole below his right eye. Wei Lan felt herself drunk tonight, her heart pinched lightly between his fingertips, ascending to bliss with a caress, plummeting to despair with a rejection.

“Very good.”

He finally responded thus, tilting his head back to drain the wine in one gulp.