Chapter 124: The Emperor

Chapter 124: The Emperor

The establishment of the Six Ministries and the Grand Secretariat, the frontier, the Directorate of Ceremonial, and the imperial examinations. Emperor Wuming's lips twitched slightly at these words, his dark eyes gleaming with a flicker of intensity on his handsome face. At his age, he had never thought to approach the balance between civil and military affairs from these perspectives.

Emperor Wuming was not the eldest legitimate son. He was a prince born of a concubine, who had fought his way to prominence through talent and cunning, earning the old emperor's favor among many princes to become the crown prince. Because of this, he was exceptionally harsh in his approach to educating his own sons.

As he read Xie Cheng's essay, a surge of wild joy rose within him. But just as he continued reading, his expression darkened instantly, his handsome face twisting slightly.

A dog’s tail sewn onto sable fur???

Emperor Wuming's roiling emotions stilled abruptly. He flipped through the latter part of Xie Cheng's essay, searching for even a trace of brilliance—but there was none. It was all contrived and shallow.

Reading this essay made Emperor Wuming even more uncomfortable than reading Xie Dan's.

When Xie Cheng heard Emperor Wuming's question, he thought to himself that Zheng Shanci had not revealed his name, likely not wanting the emperor to know. So he calmly replied, "Your son thought of it himself."

Emperor Wuming, furious, let out a cold laugh. "Hah."

He fell silent, and the atmosphere in the Coiling Dragon Hall grew oppressive. Feng De kept his head bowed, not daring to look up, silently praying to the Buddha that the young master wouldn't provoke the emperor further.

Emperor Wuming, volatile in temper, asked, "You 'thought of it yourself'? Then tell me, what is the purpose of establishing the Six Ministries?"

Xie Cheng had read books on the subject, but he still took a moment to think before carefully replying, "To delegate tasks to the Six Ministries and assist in governing the court."

Emperor Wuming: "The Grand Secretariat."

Xie Cheng: "To assist Your Majesty in processing petitions."

The Grand Secretariat scholars held the power of drafting recommendations. Petitions from inside and outside the court were first reviewed by the Grand Secretariat, which would write their suggestions on small slips attached to the documents. When the emperor processed the petitions, he would consider their opinions before making his final decision in vermilion ink—this was known as a vermilion rescript. The Directorate of Ceremonial existed to check the Grand Secretariat. A negligent emperor might allow eunuchs to usurp authority, but in truth, eunuchs were far more vulnerable than ministers. Their fate hinged entirely on imperial favor, and without descendants, they could never stir up real trouble. Ministers, however, were different. Since ancient times, if an emperor punished a minister without just cause, he would be labeled a tyrant. Add a few censors willing to die in remonstration, and his reputation would be ruined.

Emperor Wuming sneered. In the end, this was a dynasty’s dominion. If he disregarded reputation, there was nothing these courtiers could do. The emperor was the rightful Son of Heaven.

He glanced at his eldest legitimate son, ignoring the petitions on the imperial desk, weariness in his gaze. "Everyone, leave. Xie Cheng stays."

Feng De and the others bowed, and the entire group filed out of the hall, leaving only the empire’s most powerful father and son. Emperor Wuming looked at Xie Cheng and asked him a few questions.

Xie Cheng's back grew clammy as he answered Emperor Wuming earnestly.

Emperor Wuming let out an ambiguous chuckle. "Come here."

Xie Cheng was already thirteen years old. He had long witnessed Emperor Wuming's mercurial nature. In his eyes, his father was like the true master of the realm—ruled by whims yet uncompromising in state affairs. Though he treated them harshly, Xie Cheng still felt filial awe for Emperor Wuming.

"I will teach you."

...

Feng De led the group of palace attendants away, no sounds of disturbance reaching them from outside the hall. His heart was still uneasy, fearing the emperor might strike the crown prince.

"Go to the Palace of Earthly Tranquility and inform Wang Fengjun of this," Feng De bade a young eunuch to deliver the message.

Before long, Wang Fengjun arrived, bearing a box of sweets.

The palace attendants hurriedly bowed in greeting.

"Rise. How long has Cheng'er been inside?"

"About the length of an incense stick’s burn," Feng De replied.

Wang Fengjun handed the food box to Feng De. "I won't go in. Just tell His Majesty I was here. If it's been this long without any noise outside the hall, all is likely well."

Feng De responded respectfully.

"Your intentions are good, but His Majesty has his own judgment," Wang Fengjun said with a faint smile, instructing someone to give Feng De some silver. "Though His Majesty wouldn’t do anything to Cheng'er, if something like this happens again, you must inform me. Otherwise, I’ll keep worrying."

Feng De accepted the silver and looked up, only to find Wang Fengjun already gone. Wang Fengjun was much sharper than Xian Fengjun, and Feng De always took great care when speaking to him.

"Your Highness, you already knew His Majesty wouldn’t do anything to His Royal Highness the Eldest Prince. Why bother making the trip?" The attendant helped Wang Fengjun remove his cloak upon returning to the palace. He had already been in bed, ready to sleep.

"Understanding His Majesty is one thing, but I still had to see for myself. If anything had happened, His Majesty would regret it later."

The palace was filled with Emperor Wuming’s spies. Feng De sending someone to fetch him would not escape the emperor’s notice—that cunning old fox was shrewd.

Wang Fengjun lay down to sleep, only to sense someone climbing into bed. He whispered, "Your Majesty?" Emperor Wuming grunted in response and pulled him close.

Wang Fengjun had assumed Emperor Wuming would spend the night alone in the Panlong Hall, never expecting him to come to Kunning Palace. Emperor Wuming pinched the flesh at Wang Fengjun’s waist a few times but did nothing further.

Winter was approaching, and Emperor Wuming, trained in martial arts, radiated heat like a blazing furnace. Wang Fengjun immediately clung to him, wrapping himself around the emperor like a dodder vine entwining a fierce tiger. Emperor Wuming pulled him even closer.

He forced his lips apart, claiming his mouth with rough dominance.

...

Zheng Shanci visited the textile workshop, where Jia Chengwang had already brought in the dye master. Zheng Shanci wrote down the dye ratios and discussed with the master how to produce vibrant colors.

The dye master was surprised by Zheng Shanci’s approachability. Intrigued by his suggestions, the master exchanged ideas with him.

"We’re not just catering to young men and women—older men too. So, we’ll avoid dull colors. Before the New Year, when the Ministry of Revenue prepares fabrics for various departments, we’ll dye some specifically for officials’ elders. The rest can be lighter—take this pink—it’s very nice."

Zheng Shanci wasn’t an expert in dyes and could only offer suggestions. He figured he’d ask his wife later what colors were popular among the young men and women of the capital.

"Lord Zheng, I’ll get the dyes right first. We won’t dye any fabric today," the dye master said.

"Right. We already have plenty of the usual fabrics. Get the dyes right first, or we’ll just end up with extra fabric sitting in storage."

The dye master nodded. Working there, he knew keeping his mouth shut was safest—his family’s safety depended on his discretion.

After settling matters at the textile workshop, Zheng Shanci went to the porcelain workshop and gave a satisfied nod at a batch of white porcelain. "Sell the white porcelain first. You know any good painters?"

Manager Liu shook his head. "The previous painters were all selected from the imperial court’s artists, but you dismissed them, Lord Zheng. I handle personnel—this isn’t my expertise."

Imperial court painters could be recommended by officials, vetted by the palace, and then appointed. Others were recommended from within—sons, nephews, or disciples of existing court painters who underwent certain procedures to qualify. There were also those trained by the palace or self-recommended from the public.

The court had many painters, and Zheng Shanci wanted to select two or three to design patterns for the textile and porcelain workshops while letting them make some side money as court painters.

Once he had a plan, Zheng Shanci had a minor official guide him to find suitable candidates.

The court painters included men, women, and young men. The matron in charge was friendly upon learning he was the Director of the Ministry of Revenue.

"So it’s Lord Zheng. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll recommend the right ones."

Zheng Shanci had no specific demands—he simply wanted those skilled in painting flowers, figures, or landscapes.

The matron quickly gathered eight candidates, each with samples of their work. Court painters outranked civilian artists, but they didn’t earn much, so many were happy to pick up extra work designing patterns for the workshops.

After reviewing several designs, Zheng Shanci selected a female painter and a male painter—the former excelled in floral patterns, while the latter’s flowers had vitality. However, their work lacked fresh ideas, which meant they’d need to get more creative.

"I’ll take these two," Zheng Shanci said.

"Take care, Lord Zheng," the matron said with a smile.

Zheng Shanci took them back and handed them over to Jia Chengwang and Manager Liu, "Have them brainstorm designs. The more innovative the patterns, the greater the rewards will be."

The two managers accepted the assignment.

With the matter delegated, Zheng Shanci breathed a temporary sigh of relief and returned to the Ministry of Revenue to continue reviewing land records. Several officials greeted him as "Lord Zheng" when they saw him. Ever since Zheng Shanci had handed over the officials involved with Manager Hu at the textile workshop to the Ministry of Justice, his subordinates had developed a certain wariness around him.

Zheng Shanci paid these reactions no heed. He reviewed and completed a batch of documents swiftly. Having worked in the Ministry of Revenue for so long, he was now well-versed in processing documents.

Seizing the moment when no one was around, Zheng Shanci slipped in some discreet exercises.

At noon, when he went to the dining hall for lunch, Mei Huai handed him his organized notes and annotations from books. "Brother Zheng, following your advice, I went back and organized my notes. These are presentable enough to share."

Mei Huai had even selected the notes with the neatest handwriting to give to Zheng Shanci.

"Thank you, Brother Mei." Zheng Shanci thanked him sincerely, surprised by Mei Huai's efficiency.

Xiao Gaoyang and Jiang Lanli had also pulled out their notes but hadn't yet decided which ones to give Zheng Shanci. They promised to hand them over after the break.

Tomorrow was the day off, and the thought lifted Zheng Shanci's spirits.

He returned to the Ministry of Revenue and rested for two ke (about 30 minutes) before heading to the library to read. Since Xie Cheng had asked him about balancing civil and military affairs, he had been preoccupied with the Ministry of Revenue's shops and hadn't visited for a long time.

Not seeing Xie Cheng there, he sighed in relief.

Zheng Shanci picked up a book and became absorbed in his reading. Someone stood beside him, and when he glanced up, he caught sight of a bright yellow robe embroidered with a dragon—specifically, the dragon's piercing gaze.

Zheng Shanci: "..."

He had previously speculated about Xie Cheng's identity, guessing he might be an attendant or tutor. Though he had briefly considered the possibility of Xie Cheng being a prince, he hadn't dared dwell on the possibility.

But when Xie Cheng asked about balancing civil and military affairs, Zheng Shanci could no longer pretend ignorance. Even an attendant wouldn't pose such a question to others—it was far more likely that Xie Cheng was a prince.

There were two princes in the palace, and only His Royal Highness the Eldest Prince, Xie Cheng, matched the age.

Zheng Shanci's mouth went dry with apprehension. Had he known this day would come, he would have pretended ignorance when Xie Cheng sought his advice.

Forcing himself to remain composed, Zheng Shanci bowed to Emperor Wuming.

This was the first time sovereign and minister had met face-to-face in private.

"Rise, Minister Zheng," Emperor Wuming said, toying with the white tiger ring on his finger.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Look up." Emperor Wuming's authoritative voice held a deep chill.

Zheng Shanci finally saw the emperor's face—youthful, handsome, with finely chiseled features and regal bearing. His faint smile made Zheng Shanci feel as though standing between drawn swords and boiling cauldrons. The dragon robes appeared made for his stature.

"This is the first time We have seen Minister Zheng's face properly," Emperor Wuming said with a trace of amusement.

Hearing the lightness in the emperor's tone, Zheng Shanci sensed his mood wasn't unfavorable. Cupping his hands, he replied, "This humble official is overcome with awe."

Emperor Wuming chuckled softly. "There's no need for nerves. We are not so fearsome. Isn't that right, Feng De?"

Feng De: "..."

Feng De replied dutifully, "Your Majesty is naturally benevolent."

Emperor Wuming nodded in satisfaction and gestured for Zheng Shanci to be seated. Zheng Shanci forced himself to remain calm as he took his seat, though his heart pounded anxiously.

"When I can't nap at midday, I often visit the library..."

Zheng Shanci felt cold sweat soaking through his back upon hearing this.

Then why hadn't he noticed?

The Emperor keeps to the shadows—who would notice? And who would dare remind him?

...

Outside the library, imperial guards stood watch. A few officials, on a whim, had thought to pass the noon hours by reading in the library. They had met on the way and arrived together, chatting and laughing. But when they saw the guards stationed outside, they exchanged uneasy glances. What in heaven's name...?

"The library is currently closed. My lords, please return another time," one of the guards said coldly.

Guards meant only one thing: the Emperor was present. The officials dared not linger outside the library. They hastily agreed and quickly retreated.

"Why has His Majesty taken an interest in the library today?" one official whispered.

Among them was an official from the Ministry of Revenue. His heart stirred. "If we came to the library every day, might we catch a glimpse of His Majesty?"

"Once His Majesty enters, the guards will clear everyone out before allowing him in," another official, sharing the same thought, said regretfully.

The Ministry of Revenue official returned to his post, still nursing his disappointment.

The guards paid them no further attention once they left. Their duty was to protect Emperor Wuming, and they'd made countless covert trips to the library before—always in secret.

This time, they stood openly at the library entrance.

Having been here so often, they knew Emperor Wuming enjoyed visiting the library on his occasional whims.

...

Zheng Shanci, unsettled by Emperor Wuming's words, rose from his seat and bowed. "This unworthy servant begs forgiveness. I did not know Your Majesty was in the library."

"Sit. No fault lies with you," Emperor Wuming motioned for him to return to his seat.

"Your Majesty, I’ve seen you teaching Xie Cheng. Minister Wei mentioned he has made some progress lately. This time, I asked him about balancing civil and military affairs. You gave him advice, but alas, Xie Cheng proved himself a disappointing pupil." Emperor Wuming spoke unhurriedly, his tone tinged with regret—regret that Xie Cheng had failed to live up to expectations.

With a faint smile, Emperor Wuming continued, "Minister Zheng, could you explain to me the meaning behind those pointers you gave Xie Cheng?"

Zheng Shanci: "..."

Though phrased as a question, it was clearly a command. Could he refuse the emperor? No.

After a moment’s thought, Zheng Shanci had no choice but to share his views respectfully. "Your Majesty speaks of balancing civil and military affairs. I wouldn't presume to say much, but I offer my humble opinion. The Six Ministries of government and the Grand Secretariat divide administrative duties. The Six Ministries report directly to Your Majesty, thereby strengthening imperial authority. The Grand Secretariat’s power expands, but the Grand Secretaries retain only the right to draft proposals—the final decision remains in Your Majesty’s hands. Thus, the entire court rests in Your Majesty’s palm. The Grand Secretariat and the Six Ministries check each other, though generally, the Grand Secretariat holds greater sway."

"On the frontier, Your Majesty has already reformed military expenditures. After troop reductions, the influence of military officials weakened. Coupled with prolonged peace, I have observed that the military's influence has waned dangerously—unable to restrain the civil officials. That is my assessment."

Some points went unspoken, but Emperor Wuming noted them. He chuckled lightly, his gaze fixed on the back of Zheng Shanci’s head.

Zheng Shanci watched as the imperial yellow robes disappeared from sight, the footsteps gradually fading.

Only when all sound had disappeared did he straighten up, wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. Facing the emperor directly for the first time, Zheng Shanci had been both nervous and fearful. This was the absolute ruler holding power over life and death—thankfully, Emperor Wuming was no tyrant.

He returned to the Ministry of Revenue still unsettled.

It wasn’t until he was home that he finally relaxed. Yu Lanyi glanced at him and touched his back. "It’s so cold—why are you sweating so much?"

He immediately went to wash his hands.

Zheng Shanci washed up before joining Yu Lanyi. "It’s nothing. The ministry offices were rather stuffy."

"Warm? Father told me the Golden Hall only has a few braziers in winter—more for appearances than actual warmth. The Ministry of Revenue probably doesn’t have many either. You ought to carry more hand warmers." (Traditional Chinese heating devices.)

Yu Lanyi believed every word. He even hopped out of bed to fetch a hand-warmer.