PM - 54

If you were to ask her heart, it was already filled with one person, leaving no room for anyone else. As an emperor, she could have a harem of three palaces and six courtyards, but even an emperor is human. She vaguely understood why her father abandoned her birth mother—circumstances played a part, but more importantly, it was because he didn’t love her. Without affection, everything was meaningless. Women in this world were at a disadvantage, but thankfully, she didn’t need to live by pleasing men. Thankfully, she could make her own decisions.

As for her empress, she might seem somewhat ruthless. In fact, on that day during the wedding ceremony in Deyang Palace, when he approached her with such focused eyes, she had already sensed something. He likely had feelings for her. If she had continued to pursue the Chancellor without success, the outcome would only have been disappointment and eventual abandonment, leading to his permanent disappearance. If Lingjun became her companion instead, she could accept it as long as he remained obedient. Spending a lifetime together with him would be natural. However, just as Zhou Yu overshadowed Zhuge Liang, she could only accommodate one person by her side. Lingjun’s best outcome might very well be to leave for distant lands.

After Langlang’s matter came to light, she did consider how it would affect Lingjun. He should feel endangered, worried that he might not leave the palace alive. His current actions aligned with her expectations—he was striving to remain by her side, believing that staying was the only way to survive. It had to be said, once someone started killing, restraint became impossible. She asked herself whether she could still keep her promise to let him safely serve as an official in the Protectorate. The answer was no. Slowly, she would eliminate all who knew the truth until only the Chancellor remained. She knew that the only person in the world she could trust to share her secrets with was him; everyone else was unreliable.

Lingjun was making efforts to become someone she could trust. Considering this alone, he seemed somewhat pitiable. After all, he was innocent, passively drawn into knowing everything, perhaps never wishing for it.

She reached out, gently stroking his face. “You’re very afraid, aren’t you?”

Lingjun was startled, his deep eyes gazing at her, a ripple of emotion visible in their depths. He had intended to appear strong, but sorrow quickly surfaced. Placing his hand over hers, he whispered, “I have no family left; they’re all dead. Only I remain. Like Your Majesty, I am solitary and alone… But Your Majesty is far luckier than I. I am just the smallest speck among thousands of dust particles. When and how I die is not within my control.”

Despair almost seeped from his words. After all, he was only fourteen. Despite his maturity, he was still just a boy.

Fu Wei couldn’t bear to see him like this and smiled faintly. “Many of the choices I make are not of my own will but are necessary. A person’s fate isn’t entirely controlled by an emperor. If one doesn’t covet what they shouldn’t have, why fear for their life? No matter what, Lord Nie, you are my empress. You have your place in this palace, and Longqiu Palace belongs to you for life. What is there for you to fear?”

Given her circumstances, she certainly wouldn’t take another empress in the future. This gilded cage would naturally belong to him. Lingjun gave a bitter smile. “Your Majesty speaks the truth. I’ve worried too much.”

She continued to paint a rosy picture. “You don’t need to be afraid. Haven’t we gotten along well before? Though I may be vengeful, I’m always generous to those loyal to me.”

Was she referring to Shangguan Zhao? Upon reflection, this poor soul was truly pitiful. Receiving the purple ribbon and golden seal of Marquis Nei was a hollow victory, making him the object of ridicule across the land. The death of Princess Gai would not immediately cast suspicion on the young emperor; most would point fingers at him. Marrying a twelve-year-old child was scandalous, but since he had already secured the title, the princess’s death was of little consequence.

The tragedy of Shangguan Zhao lay in the young emperor’s lack of affection for him. Had there been even a shred of reluctance, letting the princess die elsewhere would not have affected him. Of course, Lingjun saw through it clearly—the young emperor’s move was meant to force Shangguan Zhao to make a choice. To rise above others, one must undergo trials. Once successful, this close minister to the emperor would truly become someone capable of bearing responsibility.

Such meticulous planning was both admirable and chilling. He narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at her. Clad in solemn black with a tall crown, her beauty was severe, untouchable—a commanding presence that compelled submission.

Slowly, he smiled. “Comparing my standing with the Chancellor in Your Majesty’s heart, I know I’ll lose, but I can’t help myself. Your Majesty…” Holding her hands in his palms, he crawled out of the covers and knelt on the embroidered quilt, whimsically suggesting, “What if neither the Chancellor nor I hold rank, and we both serve the ruler? Would that work? At most, I’d take the lesser role. We could alternate days or split nights—Chancellor takes the first half, I take the second… Hehe, anything goes.”

Fu Wei finally experienced what it felt like to be struck by lightning. The imagination of youth was indeed boundless; their openness of thought was unprecedented. Father and daughter serving the ruler together… Such an enticing scene nearly made her drool. Although conservative in matters of the heart, it didn’t stop her from occasionally indulging in fantasies. Even a young girl could dream.

Thus, strange laughter echoed from the empress’s chambers. The emperor and empress faced each other, conversing joyfully. However, laughter aside, feasibility was low. Fu Wei sobered up and told Lingjun, “No. I must be true to the Chancellor and to you. Ruining two people at once is too cruel.”

Lingjun’s eyes sparkled like a starry sea. He moved closer, full of hope. “Your Majesty can wrong me however you wish. I’m willing to be ruined by you.”

How could this child speak like this! Fu Wei waved her hands frantically. “I cannot do this…”

“But what if you’re worried about not knowing whose child it is later?” He blinked. “Count them all as the Chancellor’s. Wouldn’t that solve the issue?”

This left Fu Wei quite embarrassed. She rubbed the back of her neck, twirled around twice, and burst into laughter again. Still, the Chancellor would need to agree to be the nominal father. Discussing such absurd matters seriously would ruin the fun. Climbing onto the bed, she tucked him back into the covers. “Empress, rest well. It’s still early; I need to visit the Ministry of Light and Honor.”

The three departments of the Ministry of Light and Honor were gradually growing stronger, representing the future hope and backbone of the court, akin to the emperor’s personal advisory council. She needed to frequently communicate with these individuals to discover potential pillars of the state.

Lingjun looked dejected. “In Your Majesty’s eyes, everyone is more important than me.” Indeed, she was born to be an emperor, prioritizing those with great talent rather than lingering in the inner palace.

There was nothing to be done; she was genuinely busy. If she were to list everything she had to do, it would take three days and nights to finish. She wouldn’t sweet-talk him but simply smiled, rolled up her sleeves, and stepped off the dais.

Outside, the winds swept over thousands of miles, as if the iron horses throughout the palace were clanging. She stood quietly for a moment, listening to the waves of sound fade away, then exited through the Golden Horse Gate and entered the office of the Minister of Light and Honor.

The Minister of Light and Honor was appointed during Emperor Wen’s reign, loyal to the Chancellor and previously not under her command. Therefore, the officers of the three departments nominally served under the Ministry of Light and Honor but were not directly managed by the Minister, guided mainly by the Grand Tutor.

As she entered the office gates, everyone hurriedly rose from behind their desks to kneel and greet her. The officers of the three departments were reserve officials, without formal ranks but receiving stipends, thus treating the emperor with greater caution and respect than the ministers in court.

The eunuchs attending the young emperor announced in a high-pitched voice: “By the emperor’s decree, it is approved.” Everyone bowed deeply once more before rising and retreating to the sides.

Fu Wei scanned the hall and smiled. “I’ve been busy these past few days and haven’t visited the office. If any of you have good strategies or advice, report them to me.”

The imperial physician brought a long desk and a brocade cushion, inviting the young emperor to take her seat. Once she was settled, everyone else took their places according to rank. However, the hall remained deathly silent, and after waiting for a while without any movement, she began to feel puzzled.

“Grand Tutor, what is this…?” She glanced lightly around the room. “Why is no one speaking? Feel free to say whatever is on your mind.”

The Grand Tutor hadn’t slept well these past few days; his eye bags were growing larger, almost reaching his nostrils. His furrowed brows and downcast eyes made him look like the Kitchen God from New Year paintings. Upon hearing the emperor’s summons, he finally lifted his eyelids slightly and bowed his hands. “If Your Majesty has no intention of remaining in power, our words would only invite resentment. Thus, everyone is trying to protect themselves, and no one dares to speak up.”

Fu Wei grew even more perplexed. “What do you mean by that, Grand Tutor? I overcame countless obstacles to establish the three departments. How can you say I have no desire to remain in power?”

The Grand Tutor didn’t respond but instead turned to look at Sun Mo, signaling him with a glance to explain. With no other choice, Sun Mo stood up and said, “Please allow me to report to Your Majesty. It has been over a month since Your Majesty’s wedding, yet the court remains as it always has, with the Chancellor at the helm of every matter. The Chancellor’s aides are arrogant, routinely oppressing officials promoted by Your Majesty. Even I, the Vice Minister of the Secretariat, could not stay in the office and had to flee to the Ministry of Light and Honor. Has Your Majesty not noticed? I am a straightforward person, and my words may not be pleasing, so I ask for Your Majesty’s understanding. Today, on behalf of everyone, I ask Your Majesty: Is the ambition and passion you once had still alive? Is the aspiration to command respect across the four seas still burning within you? If the excuses made during the grand banquet in the Hall of Thousand Autumns were tactics of patience, now that all the feudal lords have left the capital, why does Your Majesty still not assume personal control of the government? There was once a memorial submitted by a vice minister of the Ministry of Light and Honor accusing the Chancellor of being tyrannical and gathering thousands of followers to wreak havoc across the land. Did that memorial reach Your Majesty’s hands? Although the Secretariat nominally holds the authority to manage state affairs, it is ultimately still under the Chancellor’s control. Is Your Majesty satisfied with mere superficial submission? That vice minister has disappeared. Does Your Majesty know where he went? The Chancellor’s faction has become so overbearing that if Your Majesty shows no intention of asserting control, even if we have the heart to serve the country, we have no place to stand. Will Your Majesty still listen to our advice?”

Sun Mo spoke at length, and Fu Wei sat there, feeling as though she had been drenched in cold water, waking her from her stupor.

She had been so preoccupied with love and intimacy that she had forgotten her great responsibilities and overlooked the fact that there were other officials in the court besides the Chancellor. The forces in the court were divided into two factions. Even if she and the Chancellor reconciled, how could the underlying conflicts among their subordinates be resolved? The struggles continued, and memorials were still being withheld without being reported. Even the official who had submitted the petition had disappeared. This was a significant threat—a challenge to imperial authority!

Her face turned pale as she muttered, “It was my oversight...”

The Grand Tutor clasped his hands and said, “Your Majesty must not be content with the status quo. The great undertaking of an emperor is such that if you do not advance, you retreat. Endless tolerance will only embolden the wicked. Your Majesty must understand that there is only one ruler in the world, and a wise sovereign cannot tolerate a blade pointed at their back. The Chancellor is that sharp blade, the arsenic that poisons governance. Yet we risk our lives to advise you. We do not know how Your Majesty considers this. We have spoken our minds, and we humbly request Your Majesty’s discernment.”

Fu Wei stared blankly at the group of officers from the three departments bowing again on the ground. Her heart pounded fiercely, blood surging in waves, making her feel almost faint.

Why hadn’t the Chancellor better restrained his subordinates? Perhaps the situation was too entrenched; even if he wanted to, he might not be able to cover all aspects. In the end, there could not be anyone in the court to challenge her authority. She wanted to rule together with him, but reality had slapped her hard.

Regaining her composure, she raised her hand. “I am aware of what the Grand Tutor and all of you have reported. Please rise. Let us discuss further, my ministers and I.”

The officers of the three departments kowtowed, unwilling to rise. She had no choice but to order the eunuchs on either side to help them up individually. After much persuasion, everyone finally took their seats. An advisor stood upright and bowed deeply, “Ten days from now is the grand winter solstice ceremony to worship heaven. Your Majesty can use this opportunity to announce your return to personally handle state affairs. At that time, the imperial guards accompanying you should all be Your Majesty’s trusted men, and even the guards at the Altar of Heaven should be personally selected from the emperor’s own guard to prevent any unforeseen incidents.”

“When the Chancellor relinquishes power, Your Majesty can implement the pre-planned measures: reducing the military authority of the Capital Garrison Commander, establishing eight colonels, dividing the capital region into three auxiliary areas, and appointing the Right Fufeng, Jingzhao Yin, and Left Fengyi. Why do powerful ministers instill fear? It is because they control both civil and military affairs. The Chancellor’s immense influence mainly stems from the military power in his hands. As long as we find a way to neutralize it, he becomes a toothless tiger. At that point, Your Majesty can decide how to deal with him as you see fit.”

Is being an emperor good? Fu Wei looked at those moving lips, her mind empty. Power intoxicates but also leaves one stuck between a rock and a hard place. Often, her personal wishes didn’t matter at all. First and foremost, she was the Son of Heaven of the Great Yin dynasty, and only secondly an individual. To be a wise ruler, she had to heed advice, even if it came in the form of condemnation or scolding. If it was correct, she needed to accept it humbly. She found it difficult, increasingly so. If she hadn’t loved him so much, today’s agenda could have been decided without hesitation. Overthrowing him had long been her dream, but who could have predicted that dreams change? Once she wanted him groveling at her feet, now she wanted both power and affection...

She clenched her fist and slammed it on the desk. “Regarding the vice minister mentioned earlier, order the Chief Justice to investigate his whereabouts, dead or alive. He must be found. Use this as a starting point to thoroughly investigate and ensure that all key individuals involved are apprehended. I want his head as a sacrificial offering! As for the colonels and the three auxiliary areas, this has long been my wish—it shall be established! The current state of the court is turbulent, and there are many who openly commit violence. If this continues, my court will turn into a slaughterhouse. I need someone who will enforce the law without sparing the powerful, who dares to confront ministers in court. Only then will the court be at peace, and the officials be subdued.”

With these words, everyone fell silent. The young emperor’s meaning was clear—she intended to appoint harsh officials. Such officials were double-edged swords; if used well, they could stabilize the court, but if misused, they would create panic and unrest, leaving officials in constant fear. For the current situation of the Great Yin dynasty, having such a person wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Many tasks the emperor couldn’t personally handle could be delegated to them. Even if mistakes occurred, they would serve as a shield for the emperor. However, such individuals were often greedy, brutal, and cruel. If used improperly, the number of loyal and innocent people who would die at their hands might far exceed those who broke laws and prohibitions.

“Does Your Majesty wish to reconsider?” The Grand Tutor clasped his hands. “The system of harsh officials is likely not a long-term solution.”

“I don’t need longevity, only the present.” Fu Wei rose, tucking her wide sleeves. “All matters discussed just now must be carried out. Though I am a ruler maintaining the status quo, I do not wish to be a blind and deaf tyrant.” She pointed at Sun Mo. “Return to the Secretariat. The Vice Minister is the deputy of the Secretariat. How could he end up like a stray dog? The previous Secretary General was merely a nominal position. Tell Liu Shang that if he dares to abuse his power for personal gain, he will be expelled from the Secretariat. My central administration does not allow him to meddle!”

Regardless, the young emperor was determined this time to make bold moves. It should have been this way all along. The emperor and empress were still newlyweds, and a momentary lapse was understandable. But while the emperor relaxed, the Chancellor’s guests did not. The empress coming from the Chancellor’s residence would make the Chancellor’s influence even greater. Originally, if the focus was on the court, it would gradually seep into the harem. The emperor represents the heavens (Qian), and the empress represents the earth (Kun). When most of Qian and Kun are in the Chancellor’s hands, it wouldn’t be long before he directly takes over.

Amidst the chorus of praise, Fu Wei walked out of the Ministry of Light and Honor.

Snowflakes began to drift down sporadically from the sky. The attendants waited outside the palace, and over time, a thin layer of white dusted their iron armor shoulder plates. Seeing the young emperor approach, they hurriedly held up umbrellas to greet her. She sighed deeply, hands tucked into her sleeves. “Ziqing, I feel that being an emperor is not at all easy.”

Such reflections were rare for the young emperor, but Hulü was not surprised. He said, “Your Majesty is a wise and virtuous ruler, which is why you feel the weight of great responsibility. A foolish emperor indulging in pleasure would only lament the brevity of life, not having enough time to enjoy themselves.”

Fu Wei smiled after hearing this. “So you’ve learned to flatter me too.”

Hulü felt somewhat embarrassed and said with a blush, “This is not flattery, it’s the truth.”

She waved her hand with a smile and lifted her robe to cross the Golden Horse Gate.

Time flowed swiftly, and after the morning court session the next day, she had not seen the Chancellor for three days. Presumably, the news of her actions had already reached his ears. Perhaps he was disappointed in her, as he had not come to see her.

The Chancellor’s office was not far from the emperor’s private quarters, separated only by several halls and high walls. But if they did not wish to meet, it felt as though they would never encounter each other.

The Chief Secretary reported, “The Secretary General has been impeached and will likely be removed from the Secretariat soon.”

The Chancellor’s face remained indifferent. “The Vice Minister can act on behalf of the Secretary General. But what if the Vice Minister is also gone?”

The Chief Secretary suddenly understood. “Naturally, it would be the Assistant Secretary.”

He smiled, a cold smile devoid of warmth. Opening the pigeon-delivered message received that morning, he turned to the map to search, muttering to himself, “Almost entering the territory of the King of Jing... Send the order. Act tomorrow night. Make it clean and decisive—leave no traces.”

“Yes,” the Chief Secretary replied and, without delay, set off to carry out the mission.

For a moment, the hall was silent. He sat there, feeling the night’s chill creep up from his feet, freezing half his body.

A tree-like candelabrum beside the desk burned steadily on a jade tray. One of the lamps was nearly out of oil, its flame noticeably weaker compared to the other four. He picked up a bronze spoon and transferred some oil from the neighboring lamps, causing the wick to gradually brighten, illuminating his features. He dropped the spoon and turned his face away.

One mountain cannot accommodate two tigers. She said that a male and female together posed no problem, but that was incorrect. When resources were scarce, they would fight to the death. Even a pair would be no different. In the game of power, there is no right or wrong—only winners and losers. He now felt a complex mix of emotions. On one hand, he was reassured by her strategy, and on the other, he sensed danger. This was an instinctive reaction of political animals, unrelated to love. He had foreseen this day before becoming deeply entangled. He could handle the storms of politics, but he feared she hadn’t treated him sincerely, leaving him with nothing but false hope.

Establishing eight colonels? She lacked the ability to do so. Orders given verbally could encounter endless obstacles if he wished it. He was just a bit saddened to realize that even if he relinquished power, because he held military authority, she wouldn’t let him go easily. But if he gave that up too, what would he have left? To be at others’ mercy, she had even prepared harsh officials for him.

Falling in love with a wolf, he chuckled softly. Besides romance, there was also mutual tearing. If one’s heart was strong enough, it could be quite enjoyable.

Footsteps sounded at the door. He turned to see the Director of Judicial Affairs enter with a report. “An urgent memorial from the Eastern Censor has arrived in the capital. Please, Prime Minister, review it.”

The Chancellor took it and read. It meticulously listed the details of how Lord Gai had usurped national policies and colluded with the Xiongnu. He sighed. “Submit it formally.”

The Director of Judicial Affairs looked incredulous. “Although Lord Gai is arrogant due to his high position, surely he hasn’t conspired against the throne…”

The Chancellor sneered indifferently. “That Qin Road, ten paces wide, took Lord Gai fifteen years to complete, connecting Shang Commandery to the north. Do you think it was truly built to facilitate the princess’s visits home?” He rolled up the bamboo slips in his hand and tossed them onto the desk. “Back then, the First Emperor of Qin mobilized 300,000 troops to build the straight road to strike the Xiongnu in the north. It was originally a military route, yet in the eyes of the entire court, it became a path for the princess to visit her natal home. How laughable!”