PM - 8

No matter what, the empress still had to be installed.

After returning to the palace, Fu Wei lay on her couch and contemplated the situation. Moving forward now was akin to rowing against a strong current—failing to advance meant retreating. Having already announced her intentions to the entire court, abandoning the plan midway would invite criticism, making it seem as though she were openly opposing the Chancellor. Moreover, relinquishing the power she had nearly secured would leave her powerless to reclaim it if the Chancellor employed his usual tactics again.

The Chancellor’s regency posed an age-old challenge. Had the other two ministers entrusted with guiding her during her minority survived, the court might have achieved a balance of power among three factions. But now, with the Chancellor dominating alone—and holding the additional title of Grand Commander of the Capital Garrison—every soldier within the imperial city fell under his command. If he ever harbored ambitions to overthrow her and install a new emperor, she would become a trapped turtle, utterly powerless to resist.

Even for those at the pinnacle of power, love could not escape calculation. And this so-called love of hers was entirely one-sided, unreciprocated by him. He likely believed she was trying to sell herself to win his favor—a laughable notion. The empire was important, but if she didn’t care for it, who could force her? Yet he claimed he would only marry a peerless beauty, implying she wasn’t attractive enough. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. She sat up abruptly, moved to the mirror, and scrutinized her reflection, running her hands over her cheeks. Her skin was smooth, her features well-proportioned—what exactly was wrong with her appearance?

The tall gates of the palace reflected in the bronze mirror. She saw someone approaching from the corridor, bowing low to step over the threshold—it was the eunuch attendant who served at her side.

Fu Wei straightened her posture as the attendant approached. He held a lacquered box filled neatly with fruits. Those serving the young emperor knew better than to linger unnecessarily; after placing the items down, they quickly departed without uttering a word, ensuring their safety.

The attendant kept his eyes lowered, placed the lacquered box on a nearby table, and was about to retreat when Fu Wei called out, “Buhai.”

Perhaps because the young emperor had never addressed him by name before, Buhai looked up, momentarily bewildered. Unsure whether he had misheard, he stared upward in confusion. When he saw the young emperor looking at him, his knees buckled, and he collapsed into a kneeling position, trembling as he bowed his head to the ground. “Yes, Your Majesty, your servant Buhai awaits your command.”

Fu Wei frowned slightly. “Look up at me. Tell me—how do I look?”

Buhai was clearly taken aback. He hadn’t expected the usually aloof emperor to ask such a question. Scrambling to gather his thoughts, he dredged up every ounce of flattery he could muster. “Your Majesty possesses unparalleled grace and beauty, known throughout the land. To fail to recognize Your Majesty’s brilliance is to lack vision altogether.”

The young emperor listened with apparent disdain. “Isn’t that originally a description of Gongsun Yan? Reading books does have its benefits—it saves you in tight spots… Are you just saying these flattering words because you’re afraid of being punished?”

Buhai shook his head vigorously like a rattle drum. He assumed the young emperor must be preparing to select an empress, which explained her sudden concern with her appearance. In arranged marriages, where personalities were unknown, a pleasing face often made the first impression—a truth the young emperor understood well.

“Your servant dares not utter a single falsehood. Your Majesty’s noble bearing is truly unmatched by ordinary mortals. I once heard a junior eunuch from Quefei Hall remark that among all the dukes, generals, and ministers gathered in court, each appeared half-baked and uninspiring—except for Your Majesty, whose serene majesty resembles a bodhisattva painted on temple murals.” Smiling ingratiatingly, he clasped his hands together in reverence.

Fu Wei felt somewhat gratified and posed a more pointed question: “How do I compare to the Chancellor?”

Buhai hesitated, carefully weighing his words before replying, “Your servant dare not speak rashly, but in my humble opinion, Your Majesty’s youthful vigor far surpasses that of Lord Chancellor.”

At last, Fu Wei smiled. Though the attendant’s words were steeped in flattery, he had spoken a fundamental truth. Excellent! Like two peas in a pod, what right did the Chancellor have to deem her unattractive? She hadn’t even criticized his aging visage!

In high spirits, the young emperor rose and began pacing the hall with measured steps. Buhai, standing near a pillar, discreetly exhaled in relief. Before long, footsteps echoed beneath the eaves. A eunuch arrived, sleeves hanging loosely, to announce that the Grand Tutor and Chief Justice sought an audience. The young emperor quickly composed herself and proceeded to Lèchéng Hall.

When the sovereign and ministers met, the Grand Tutor and Chief Justice performed their customary bows. Fu Wei dismissed the formalities and invited them to sit. The Grand Tutor, still troubled by the morning’s events, expressed his concerns: “I have thoroughly investigated the matter. Over a decade ago, the Chancellor indeed adopted an orphaned girl—the very one mentioned in today’s court session. I wonder how Your Majesty views this situation. If we install her as empress, it could severely hinder Your Majesty’s efforts to consolidate power. The Chancellor’s proposal today reveals a long-standing scheme. What are the chances that such a perfect candidate would emerge precisely when Your Majesty seeks to establish the empress?”

He spoke at length without restraint, even in the presence of others, indicating that the Chief Justice was someone he trusted implicitly.

Regarding the adopted daughter, Fu Wei had visited the Chancellor’s residence and realized once again how the Chancellor always stayed several steps ahead. Not even a thorough investigation had clarified whether the empress candidate was male or female. Perhaps the spies under the Grand Tutor’s employ, who seemed to do nothing but eat and drink, needed a serious overhaul. However, given her own involvement in the truth, she refrained from pointing this out directly and merely sighed. “I find it difficult to proceed. If I reject the Chancellor’s proposal, I’m unsure whether the matter can still succeed… After much deliberation, I’ve concluded that to seize power, I must first stand on my own. Currently, the capital’s military is divided into northern and southern armies. The northern army is under the jurisdiction of the Imperial Guard Commander, while the southern army falls under the Minister of the Palace Guards. Both armies ultimately answer to the Grand Commander of the Capital Garrison, leaving me, the emperor, without a single soldier under my command—an unsettling reality. I propose reinstating the Eight Colonels and dividing the Prefect’s office into three auxiliary posts, each with its own Chief Clerk. This way, real power will be distributed among the colonels, weakening the Chancellor’s military authority and giving me some breathing room.” Finishing her explanation, she glanced at the Grand Tutor and smiled. “What does my teacher think?”

The Grand Tutor was utterly astonished by her words.

Since her early education, the young emperor had been his student. Over the years, he had observed her intelligence and eagerness to learn but noted her lack of boldness. He had once worried that her path as a ruler would be fraught with difficulty. However, just days ago, when she proposed to the Chancellor the idea of establishing an empress and personally selected Huang Yue’s daughter, he realized she had changed dramatically. Like a newly sharpened blade, she was gathering strength, exuding an aura capable of sweeping away thousands. The young emperor’s rapid growth was astonishing.

The Grand Tutor fell silent, his expression inscrutable as he gazed at the young emperor. “Your Majesty’s ambition is a blessing for Great Yin’s people. But may I remind Your Majesty of something I once said: the sharper the blade, the easier it breaks. Governing is the same—one must not exhaust their strength. Proceeding cautiously is the superior strategy.”

Fu Wei understood his meaning. He feared her shallow foundation—if she acted rashly, she might meet a catastrophic end. Power struggles were inherently brutal wars. Even if the defeated managed to survive temporarily, their lives were far from guaranteed. Failure was not an option. Bowing deeply, she said, “I’ve been too hasty. Thank you for your guidance, Master.”

The Grand Tutor nodded. “Your Majesty’s grand vision is clear to me. I believe that reducing the Grand Commander’s military authority is secondary. The immediate priority is assembling a trusted council. The Office of Imperial Entertainments has traditionally provided reserve officials, directly overseen by the emperor—beyond even the Chancellor’s reach. The turnover of civil and military officials in court is inevitable. With sufficient patience, Your Majesty will eventually surround herself with loyal followers. At that point, a single Yan Xiangru will pose no threat.”

Indeed, no matter how intelligent a person was, their mental capacity was finite. The Chancellor had three thousand retainers—how could she allow herself to lag behind? Previously, she had been overly impatient. But after the Grand Tutor’s advice, she had calmed down, her mind settling like still water.

“Master speaks wisely. I share the same intention but hesitate to act rashly given my current circumstances. Once the matter of establishing the empress is resolved, I will revive these long-neglected practices piece by piece.” Slowly inhaling, she shifted her gaze to the Chief Justice beside the Grand Tutor. He was a young official with piercing hawk-like eyes that exuded an intimidating presence even when silent.

The Chief Justice was a subordinate officer of the Ministry of Justice, responsible for reviewing cases and standardizing legal statutes. Fu Wei had noticed him before. Despite holding a rank equivalent to the fifth junior level, his brilliance had not been overshadowed by his superiors. Beneath his calm exterior lay a sharp mind, and when handling cases, he acted decisively with seasoned ruthlessness.

She offered a faint smile. “Why has Chief Wei come to see the Grand Tutor today? I recall that the Ministry of Justice is currently overseeing the Wuling Rebellion case. How is the investigation progressing?”

Wei Shihang clasped his hands in respect and replied, “I have come specifically regarding the Wuling case. After years of handling cases, I’ve encountered numerous complex situations across the provinces, yet none have felt as peculiar as this one. Among the twenty-odd nobles and officials implicated, half lack concrete evidence against them. There’s reason to suspect ulterior motives—perhaps leveraging the case for personal vendettas. I seek an imperial edict, Your Majesty, granting me permission to reinvestigate the case. I humbly request Your Majesty’s approval.”

Fu Wei fell silent after hearing his request. After a long pause, she finally said, “The Wuling case is under the purview of the Ministry of Justice. As a subordinate official, aren’t you overstepping by intervening? Won’t the Chief Justice take offense?”

Wei Shihang furrowed his brows slightly and whispered, “The Chancellor ordered a thorough investigation—but how can we be sure there was no covert instruction involved?” Finishing his statement, he raised his eyes to gauge the young emperor’s reaction. Seeing the heavy mist in her eyes, he felt a wave of discouragement wash over him, his hopes cooling fragment by fragment.

Fu Wei’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the table as she weighed the pros and cons. Thinking of her childhood friend, she found it hard to let go. The intervals between the taps grew longer until she finally clenched her fist. “Directly assigning you this task might be too burdensome. I can issue an order to extend the deadline. You may investigate discreetly—even traveling to Wuling for a field investigation wouldn’t be amiss. However, remember this: safeguard your own life. I await your fair verdict.”

Wei Shihang was overjoyed upon hearing this, his enthusiasm visibly lifting Fu Wei’s spirits as well.

This was the human emperor, wielding the power to determine the rise and fall of countless lives. She had never fully grasped this reality until now, when she was genuinely preparing to shoulder the weight of the empire. Only with immense ambition could one endure such a burden. Fortunately, she saw people gradually rallying to her side—she was not fighting alone.

“The Ministry of Justice is the final bastion of Great Yin’s law. If it falters, the nation descends into chaos.” She spoke warmly to Wei Shihang. “Guard this checkpoint for me. Ensure no innocent soul falls victim to the blade—that is my expectation of you.”

If judged by past standards, the young emperor’s transformation would seem unfitting. Yet the threefold nature of a true gentleman was now perfectly embodied in her: solemn in appearance, gentle in demeanor, and resolute in speech. Wei Shihang prostrated himself on the ground. “Your servant will not disappoint Your Majesty’s expectations. Thank you for your trust.”

Fu Wei exhaled deeply. “An honest man can discipline the corrupt, but even the most virtuous minister cannot aid a weak ruler. I have loyal subjects—if I fail to reflect on myself, won’t I become a tyrant?” Turning to the Grand Tutor, she added, “Please assist me in selecting officials for the Office of Imperial Entertainments. Once I assume full authority, we will immediately form the council to avoid delays.” Pointing to Wei Shihang, she smiled. “I find him excellent. In the future, one of the three auxiliary posts will surely belong to him.”

After the Grand Tutor and Wei Shihang took their leave, she sat alone in the hall for a long time. In the afternoon, fierce winds suddenly arose from all directions, causing the curtains to billow wildly. Rising to her feet, she walked to the eaves and gazed into the distance. Rolling clouds obscured the horizon, dimming the sun’s light—it seemed rain was imminent.

She called out, “Jianye.” The eunuch commander hurried over from the corridor, bowing deeply upon arrival. “Await your orders, Your Majesty.”

“My mood is poor today. Tonight, I intend to get thoroughly drunk. If you can’t stop me, what will you do?”

Jianye understood her implication. “Your servant will report to Lord Chancellor and request that he enter the palace to persuade Your Majesty.”

So, eunuchs did serve a purpose after all. She gave a faint smile and turned her gaze toward the distant Yongning Pagoda, shrouded in the swirling wind and rain.