Chapter 38

Chapter 38

"Quick! Look, the list is posted!"

The capital was buzzing with excitement all over the city.

A few days ago, the results from the Wenhua Hall grading were posted, alongside the exposure of the exam cheating scandal.

As the high-profile investigation into the imperial examination fraud concluded, it implicated many officials, and the biggest surprise was Chen Yuanli. Two weeks ago, this Lord Chen had been the whistleblower in the Shuntian Prefecture corruption case, but by the end of the spring examinations, he himself had become one of the wrongdoers.

The students of the Imperial Academy were stunned, unable to believe that the upright and incorruptible Lord Chen could be such a two-faced hypocrite, until the irrefutable evidence forced them to accept the truth.

Without the evidence, who would have imagined that a good official once concerned for the people could be one of the leeches on the court and the people?

Corrupt officials had their properties seized, and the ringleaders of the fraud were locked up. The announcement of the scandal was issued simultaneously with the posting of the imperial examination rankings. This was perhaps the most spectacular results release in the Dayuan Dynasty, as if to overshadow the absurdity of the fraud. A great scholar from the Imperial Academy came in person to post the list.

From a high point in a tavern, the noise from the streets drifted up.

Weng Yanqing stood by the window, watching the scholars cheering along the street. When he saw the names of several acquaintances appear on the Imperial Academy's ranking list, the burden in his heart finally lifted, as if he too were infected by the festive atmosphere.

In the distance, drums and music struck up, and the jubilant procession of the new metropolitan graduates parading on horseback approached. Weng Yanqing's heart pounded like thunder as he watched intently, until the top scholar passed below and rode off into the distance amid the crowd's adulation.

A voice came from within the private room, "If you had been able to enter the examination hall, you would be the one parading on horseback now."

During the Wenhua Hall review, his essay on statecraft and governance had been perused by countless great scholars and even presented to the Emperor.

Many of its measures were praised by the Emperor. However, the author was notorious for his involvement in the examination fraud.

"It's fine if I'm reviled, or if the scholars remember me," Weng Yanqing said, his gaze full of longing for the distant horseback parade. "I, a commoner, have no regrets. That essay reached the great scholars and the Emperor himself—that's enough."

After all, he had walked through the examination hall, written his essay, and made a name for himself across the land.

The voice behind the screen paused briefly, then asked him, "Don't you regret it?"

Weng Yanqing would never feel that way. Compared to dying in the streets, he had already achieved much: "A true hero serves the nation and its people."

Corrupt officials had been investigated, the examination fraud had ended, and both the people and the scholars had gained something.

Now, those who could walk the streets were all genuinely learned, future pillars of the court.

The man behind the screen spoke again, "The Embroidered Uniform Guard will issue you new papers and give you a new name. From now on, you can go somewhere else and live out your days peacefully."

Weng Yanqing knew that once his essay showed up in the exam hall, there was no turning back. He would have to live under an assumed name for the rest of his life. No matter how brilliant his essay was, the credit could only go to that scholar who sold exam questions on the black market, and he could never truly appear before the court.

Even though he had written it for the sake of the examinations, such an act of rebellion would never be tolerated by the court.

On the table in the corner lay dried ink and paper, but his emotions gradually settled along with the fading clamor.

From the moment the Sixth Prince placed the examination questions before him, every word he wrote was like a nail, hammering the rest of his life into this court chess game.

With that thought, he suddenly knelt and prostrated himself, saying, "Sixth Prince."

After a pause, Ying Fusheng stepped out from behind the screen.

He had deliberately changed his voice, hiding its youth, making it different from his usual tone: "When did you recognize me?"

But he wasn't surprised Weng Yanqing had figured him out.

"The assembly at the Imperial Academy was your idea, not Chen Yuanli's," Weng Yanqing said. "I studied under him and know his character. He may have seemed upright, but he was also slippery and careful. A man like that, even under an imperial decree, would never make himself a target in public."

Ying Fusheng looked down at Weng Yanqing, who was prostrate before him. He bent down slightly and made a gesture of helping him up without actually touching his sleeve—yet it seemed to carry the force to lift that bent spine: "You knew who I was from the start, yet you still wrote that essay?"

Weng Yanqing looked up at the young Sixth Prince before him. His throat tightened, but his voice was steady: "Your Highness, at such a young age, orchestrated this for the sake of all scholars. I, a commoner, did it willingly."

Ying Fusheng's expression was calm. A black robe made his sharp features stand out. "How do you know I wasn't acting for myself?"

He smiled slightly: "Your essay was excellent, praised by the great scholars. I just used your work to reach my own goals—exploiting you to get what I want."

Weng Yanqing froze for a moment. Meeting his gaze, he fell into those deep, unreadable eyes.

Those eyes held none of a youth's innocence, only a cold, bottomless light.

But after a moment, Weng Yanqing prostrated himself again: "I am willing to serve Your Highness to the utmost."

Ying Fusheng looked at the man before him, his gaze dropping slightly. He did not help him up again. His eyes were deep and inscrutable, and he only said, "The Vice Minister of the Imperial Stud needs a study boy to tidy books. Yunfei, take him over there later."

Shen Yunfei came in from outside, acknowledged the order, and quickly helped Weng Yanqing up.

As Weng Yanqing rose, his sleeves trembled slightly. He watched Ying Fusheng's small but straight back disappear at the end of the room. He bowed solemnly.

"If you go into hiding somewhere else, after the heat dies down, you could still get into government," Shen Yunfei said.

Weng Yanqing said nothing, only shook his head.

He was just a sixteen-year-old provincial graduate, who had only written a few essays, with no other merits. That prince, however, had been willing to entrust him with the examination paper. With the prince's abilities, he could have found someone more reliable to produce a dazzling essay. Why bother with him, a trouble-making scholar?

The assembly at the Imperial Academy, the entry of scholars into the court—it was all about choosing the right lord to serve in the realm.

Whether as an official or a strategist, it made no difference.

Besides, that prince was different from the rest.

...

In a dark spot near the tavern, a carriage was waiting.

Ye Xuanjiu drove the carriage, with several guards in attendance.

Qi Hanzhou saw Ying Fusheng lift the curtain to enter. Seeing him, the young prince gave a small wave for the others to wait, and entered alone.

The carriage curtain dropped, leaving just the two of them inside.

The capital was abuzz with the excitement of the spring examination list, but only the two of them knew this had been a deliberate scheme for months. Ying Fusheng sat opposite Qi Hanzhou and said, "Weng Yanqing will remain in the capital. I ask the Junior General to give him a proper cover identity."

Among those officials, Weng Yanqing was nothing more than a troublemaker who presented petitions. Investigating corruption all the way to the spring examination fraud, those officials were too wrapped up to notice a student who hadn't even sat for the exams. Qi Hanzhou said, "When he submitted the petition, Ye Xuanjiu disguised the handwriting."

Meaning, if anyone later traced the handwriting from the black market back to the Court of Judicial Review, they wouldn't match it to Weng Yanqing.

Ying Fusheng allowed a faint smile. "Thank you, Junior General."

Qi Hanzhou looked at him—he was deliberately asking the obvious. "You want to keep him?"

"I'm using him," Ying Fusheng corrected. He never believed in absolute trust—cooperation was just an exchange of interests. He said flatly, "He has ability. I use him to carry out my plans, and he can naturally use me to achieve his ambitions."

Between people, it's a fair trade.

Qi Hanzhou watched him, hearing the nonchalant tone, as if nothing mattered to him.

But it was precisely this calmness that allowed him to thoroughly understand the thoughts of everyone at court, never losing a single calculation.

Months ago, when the two had their secret meeting in Cining Palace and mentioned Chen Yuanli, two major cases had broken out in the capital one after another since then. The Three Judicial Offices, including the Court of Judicial Review, were so busy they couldn't touch the ground, and corrupt officials were all brought down.

The emperor seemed furious but was secretly pleased.

Even during the war, these parasites had been a major concern for the throne.

Ying Fusheng's ability to gauge the emperor's mind so precisely showed he was a deep schemer; otherwise, if any one step went wrong, the emperor would have first suspected him or the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

"The Ministry of Rites holds a special position in the court. With the former Minister and Vice Minister of Rites stepped down, the new Minister hasn't had enough time to familiarize himself. If no intervention occurs, Chen Yuanli, with his image of being loyal in the court, would gain the new Minister's trust and become his right-hand man."

Ying Fusheng sneered. "Chen Yuanli has his own people in every faction. If he becomes his confidant, it's as good as the Ministry of Rites falling into his hands. Then it won't just be the imperial examinations. Anywhere the Ministry of Rites has influence, Chen Yuanli will find ways to rig things."

Qi Hanzhou said, "With people from the Eldest Prince Faction being purged, Chen Yuanli, as what seems like a plant in the Crown Prince Faction, would create a false impression."

The Xu family would think the Ministry of Rites was on their side, but in reality, it was in the hands of the real puppet master behind Chen Yuanli. If Ying Fusheng hadn't called out Chen Yuanli months ago, by the time the spring imperial examinations concluded, each faction would think their planted men had gotten into the court, when in truth, the mastermind's pawns were spread across the entire court.

The Ministry of Rites would become the mastermind's hidden tool for running the court.

"So from the very beginning, your target was him," Qi Hanzhou said. "Once it all comes out, Chen Yuanli becomes a dead piece with no value, thrown out by the factions as the fall guy."

To be seen as an incorruptible official in court while planting moles in other factions—Chen Yuanli can't be that clean, but he hid it too well—the Embroidered Uniform Guard could barely notice him before.

"I don't have direct evidence to nail Chen Yuanli, but the Xu family does." The carriage rattled along, and Ying Fusheng held back a tickle in his throat and coughed twice. "Chen Yuanli has skeletons in his closet held by other factions—that's the only reason they trust him."

But these secrets, if Chen Yuanli got promoted higher, would become bargaining chips for the factions to blackmail or collaborate with him. After all, a Ministry of Rites director trusted by the emperor with a bright future ahead could be useful to work with in so many ways. That's why Chen Yuanli survived even after becoming a target of many factions.

So the only move was to kill with a borrowed knife.

Leaking exam questions couldn't kill Chen Yuanli. Ying Fusheng wanted the factions in court to take Chen Yuanli down. For such a big exam cheating scandal, they needed a scapegoat with enough clout to calm the public's anger—Chen Yuanli, who had directed the Imperial Academy's public opinion, was the obvious choice.

Compared to other moles, Chen Yuanli—who had already betrayed once at an Imperial Academy rally—the old foxes barely trusted him. So why not seize the chance to use Chen Yuanli to cover it up?

"Has the person you're tailing made a move?" Ying Fusheng asked.

Qi Hanzhou nodded. The fake Xu family member at the Imperial Academy kept a low profile for a few days. "Already got someone on him."

Ying Fusheng figured only by getting rid of Chen Yuanli could they rip out the mastermind's entire plan in the Ministry of Rites. That schemer had been planning for so long, even playing a hidden card like Chen Yuanli, clearly determined to seize the Ministry of Rites and the spring examinations. This exam cheating not only wasted Chen Yuanli but also ruined the agents intended to be inserted into the court—effectively wrecking years of that guy's planning.

So what would he do?

Others might not see it, but this mastermind, who could keenly perceive the changes in Ying Fusheng's fall into the water, would deduce that this was related to him... If it were the mastermind, there should already be a contingency plan.

He thought, his mind drifting away.

Days of fatigue overwhelmed him. Ying Fusheng suddenly felt cold, and before he could clear his thoughts, drowsiness swept over him.

When the carriage fell silent, Qi Hanzhou saw the young man leaning against the window, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his eyes unconsciously closing, his breathing steady.

"Your Highness?" Qi Hanzhou called.

There was no response.

The noise from the street outside came through, and Ying Fusheng's brow slightly furrowed, as if shrinking from the cold.

The carriage was now surrounded by Ye Xuanjiu's men. Qi Hanzhou was about to get up and call for his attendants, but as he moved, the carriage jolted. He quickly reached out to support the young man who was about to fall forward, glancing outside.

Confirming it was just a bumpy road, Qi Hanzhou turned his attention back.

The young man, leaning against his arm, hadn't woken at all. Instead, because of the wind outside, he leaned closer for warmth, curling slightly.

The carriage had been prepared by Ye Xuanjiu, with no items for warmth.

Qi Hanzhou looked around, then knelt on one knee, gently helping him sit steady, using his other hand to unfasten his own cloak and carefully draping it over him. When his fingers touched the coldness of the boy's hand, he paused.

In terms of age, this prince was only four years younger than him, yet he showed no sign of his years. His bearing, speech, courage, and decisiveness were no less than any of the other princes in court.

If his health were better, this man could accomplish even more—not like now, where even a slight chill seemed to threaten him down to his bones.

It was May, nearly summer.

Ying Fusheng's body was still cold. After days of interaction, this man's strategic calculations had made Qi Hanzhou forget that his body had been poisoned by Suihongzi, too fragile for such strain.

Qi Hanzhou wrapped the cloak tighter, covering half of his thin face.

Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, his gaze paused, catching sight of the healed scar on the young man's neck—the wound from his blade at the Guardian Temple.

Months had passed, yet the scar remained.

The carriage rumbled over the flagstones, but Ying Fusheng's brow did not relax, as if his dreams were troubled.

Qi Hanzhou lowered his eyes and reached out to adjust the cloak against the cold.

Suddenly, the young man's eyes half-opened.

At this movement, Qi Hanzhou's hand stopped. "Awake?"

Ying Fusheng didn't respond. His eyelids were half-lowered, his gaze quiet and scrutinizing, faintly looking at him.

Those eyes were as still as a cold pond, carrying a hint of weariness and assessment.

Only a brief pause as his gaze passed over the other's face, as if confirming whether the person before him was trustworthy, or as if carefully recognizing something.

"Qi Hanzhou." The young man's voice was very soft, as faint as a whisper.

Qi Hanzhou suddenly snapped back to reality.

"It's you..." Ying Fusheng quietly lowered his gaze, the shadows under his eyes deepening, his breathing slowing again, as if that one utterance had been just an illusion from the carriage's jolt.

Only Qi Hanzhou's eyes darkened as he watched the young man fall into deep sleep again.

That form of address wasn't the usual polite "Junior General"—it sounded like he was reciting a familiar name, without any probing, only a nearly intimate confirmation, like a greeting after a long separation.

As if the two had known each other for a very long time.