Chapter 683: Strike!

"Your Majesty, the Chancellor is already waiting outside the Imperial Study."

Wei Zhonghe delivered the report.

A trace of weariness flashed through the Emperor of Yan's eyes.

After the Emperor stepped down from the carriage, Zhao Jiulang stood there watching him without offering a salute.

Supported by Wei Zhonghe, the Emperor of Yan walked toward him.

Only when the distance between them had closed did Zhao Jiulang sigh and drop to his knees.

"This minister kowtows before my Emperor. May Your Majesty live ten thousand years."

The Emperor of Yan said:

"We thought the Chancellor might first take off his official hat and set it aside."

"I'd like to, but Great Yan is not Great Qian. We don't have that habit of tossing down our hats and abandoning our posts at the slightest disagreement."

"True."

The Emperor of Yan nodded and entered the Imperial Study.

Zhao Jiulang rose and followed him inside.

The Emperor sat at the head.

Zhao Jiulang knelt below.

Whether the Emperor of Yan sat in this Imperial Study or the Crown Prince governed here as regent, a man of Zhao Jiulang's standing as Chancellor always had a seat.

Today, he did not sit.

Wei Zhonghe stood inside as well, but made no move to invite the Chancellor to rise.

"Your Majesty."

Zhao Jiulang began.

For the Emperor of Yan, this was an extremely familiar scene.

Many ministers opened with morality, rules, ritual propriety, the welfare of the common people. In short, when a minister believed his argument was righteous enough and his lungs full enough, this was how he began.

Zhao Jiulang had never done so before.

As Chancellor, he should theoretically have been the leader of the bureaucratic bloc that balanced imperial authority.

Yet throughout the years since the Emperor of Yan ascended the throne, he had never once taken the lead in opposing the Emperor's will.

Even when court and countryside mocked him as a paper Chancellor and clay-idol chief minister, he had never cared in the slightest.

But today... here... he began.

He had not yet said what he intended to say.

The Emperor already knew.

The Emperor of Yan was still the Emperor of Yan.

When he sat in the Imperial Study, in that chair, he was like a pair of eyes behind candlelight, while the hundred officials were puppets trembling between the flames.

At the same time... the Emperor also knew why Zhao Jiulang dared make this first attempt now.

Because... he...

Ji Runhao... was old.

Not in years.

This departure from the Rear Garden had nearly announced that the Emperor's remaining lifespan had entered a true countdown.

A vigorous Emperor of Yan in the prime of life could replace his Chancellor whenever he wished.

At the slightest sign of disobedience, he could hollow out the man's authority, raise others to counterbalance him, or simply send him far away.

But an old Emperor... when confronted with this sort of situation... had only compromise left.

He had returned.

Returned to the center of his own power.

But he was no longer the Ninth-Five Supreme who could bestow life and death at a whim.

He knew it.

His ministers knew it.

His time was short.

Relatively speaking... it was now the aging Emperor who hoped to preserve the court's stability intact and orderly, so that it could be handed over to his descendants and successor.

"Your Majesty, the matter of the national heir concerns the safety of the altars of state! How can it be treated so casually? How can it be made into a game? How can it... be handled like this!"

Zhao Jiulang turned his long lament into a cry.

The Emperor of Yan smiled.

That expression.

That tone.

That posture.

Very good.

Very good indeed.

Worthy of the Chancellor he himself had raised step by step.

All those tricks other officials knew how to perform, Zhao Jiulang could play even better and immerse himself even more thoroughly.

Between sovereign and minister... there was no argument.

They knew each other far too well.

So well that each could run an argument through his own mind and predict almost exactly how the other would answer.

There was simply no need to say those answers aloud.

It saved both men effort.

But because the exchange moved too quickly, it risked feeling thin.

Fortunately, Zhao Jiulang's control of emotion remained excellent.

He did not remove his official hat.

Instead, he untied his court robe and bared his arms.

Then... he even raised a hand and slapped himself on the chest.

"Your Majesty, this minister did not bring a coffin."

Among the armies of Great Yan, a story had long circulated about the Marquis of Pingxi.

It was said that in his early years of campaigning, the Marquis always advanced with a coffin beside him, prepared to fight to the death.

In truth... hauling coffins around on campaign was terribly inconvenient.

The people who truly loved having coffins carried out at every opportunity were civil officials.

Zhao Jiulang said he had not brought one.

Meaning... he had saved himself the trouble.

Your Majesty... just imagine there is a coffin sitting beside this minister.

The Emperor of Yan nodded.

"Your Majesty, this minister entered your princely residence as a staff member. I followed Your Majesty into the Eastern Palace as an official. I followed Your Majesty into the great hall and watched you ascend the throne, while this minister rose from Minister to Chancellor. Never once has this minister opposed Your Majesty's will. But this time... this minister has no choice but to risk his life remonstrating with Your Majesty. Your Majesty... you are old. So long as Your Majesty lives, naturally there is nothing you cannot do. But I beg Your Majesty, for the sake of Great Yan's thousand autumns and ten thousand generations... establish the rules!"

The matter of the national heir.

You can act as you please.

You are the Emperor.

You are the father of the imperial princes.

You are the most powerful sovereign Great Yan has seen in nearly a century.

You can be willful.

But after Your Majesty has finished being willful... who will clean up the mess?

"Beloved minister."

"This minister is here."

"Then tell Us. Who should be chosen?"

"As a minister, I must uphold the proper duty of a minister. The Crown Prince has committed no grave error. Since he began governing as regent, he has labored diligently. This minister begs Your Majesty: since you already reported before the Imperial Ancestral Temple and established the Crown Prince... then please... give the Crown Prince his dignity. Give the Imperial Ancestral Temple its dignity. Give the mountains and rivers of Great Yan their dignity!"

This was the politically correct position for a civil official.

A Crown Prince was already half a sovereign.

The court could tolerate the existence of the Sixth Master's faction.

But if someone asked you formally, even if you were a die-hard supporter of Sixth Master, you still could not publicly say:

Depose the Crown Prince and establish Sixth Master!

That was defiance.

Defiance of the sovereign-to-be.

"The Crown Prince has committed no error?" The Emperor of Yan shook his head. "Without Our support, that Eastern Palace of his would likely have become unstable long ago."

Without the Emperor deliberately tilting the balance... the Sixth Master's faction would long since have suppressed the Crown Prince's people until they could barely breathe.

"Your Majesty, the Crown Prince is the heir you established. If Your Majesty does not support him, who should?"

"We have not deposed the Crown Prince."

"But now court and countryside alike are already unsettled. Your Majesty, this minister begs you to make arrangements soon and settle the great order of the realm!"

The meaning beneath his words was simple.

Yes.

I truly support the Crown Prince.

But if Your Majesty insists... you may replace him.

Just do it quickly!

"We are not dead yet."

"Your Majesty, do you know why this minister did not complete the performance today and bring a coffin into the palace? Is this minister's salary so meager that I cannot afford a proper coffin? Do I lack household servants strong enough to carry one?"

The implication was equally simple.

Because...

Your Majesty is nearly there.

So this minister did not dare bring a coffin and offend that taboo.

The Emperor of Yan looked toward Wei Zhonghe standing at his side.

"Look at him. This is Our trusted pillar minister. Truly worthy of being Our Chancellor."

"Your Majesty, when this minister served in your princely residence, you were my master. When this minister served in the Eastern Palace, you were my master. Now you are the Emperor of Great Yan, while this minister is the Chancellor of Great Yan. This minister... must plan for Great Yan's thousand autumns and ten thousand generations!"

With that...

Zhao Jiulang pressed his forehead against the blue bricks of the Imperial Study.

The Emperor of Yan closed his eyes.

Zhao Jiulang did not move.

A long time passed.

Then the Emperor spoke.

"We are hungry."

Wei Zhonghe immediately went outside and called:

"Serve the meal!"

The imperial meal arrived quickly.

Just as in the old days... two portions.

Wei Zhonghe walked to Zhao Jiulang.

"Chancellor, eat first."

Zhao Jiulang lifted his head.

A dark bruise had already appeared on his forehead.

He did not put on airs or pretend modesty.

He rose and saluted the Emperor.

"This minister thanks Your Majesty for your boundless grace."

Then he sat to one side.

The food was simple.

Zhao Jiulang ate quickly.

Long ago, he had developed the habit of eating while working.

The Emperor of Yan... took only a few bites before stopping.

Zhao Jiulang finished his own meal.

Then looked toward the imperial table.

Wei Zhonghe understood.

He stepped forward, lifted the remaining dishes from before His Majesty, and prepared to carry them over to Zhao Jiulang.

Back when the Emperor's health first began deteriorating, his appetite had declined with it.

At nearly every meal, he left food untouched.

Zhao Jiulang would then eat two men's portions alone.

He would be painfully full.

But he still had to finish it.

The outside world could not be allowed to learn that the Emperor of Great Yan's body had gone wrong.

This time... the Emperor of Yan raised one hand and stopped Wei Zhonghe.

Then... he looked toward Zhao Jiulang.

"Beloved minister, you don't need to force yourself anymore. Don't ruin your stomach."

As he spoke... the Emperor leaned back slightly.

"Leave the leftovers there. Everyone above and below already knows Our body will not recover."

Zhao Jiulang's mouth opened.

This Chancellor of Great Yan, a man whose skill and political methods stood at the absolute first rank, a man the late Emperor had entrusted with grave responsibilities for twenty years... suddenly began to weep.

He rose.

Dropped to his knees.

And said:

"Your Majesty, this minister deserves ten thousand deaths. Ten thousand deaths!"

"Beloved minister, We suddenly miss the rice cakes Grandfather used to make. At a time like this... We truly wish We could eat one."

"This minister..."

"Unfortunately, Grandfather is gone."

The Emperor of Yan sighed.

"Gone."

Zhao Jiulang said nothing.

Wei Zhonghe said nothing.

No one dared interrupt the Emperor's remembrance.

"Some people are gone. Those still here... do not necessarily live happily either. Wei Zhonghe. Do you think it was worth it?"

"Your Majesty, this slave may be a castrated man, but if the day ever comes when Great Yan needs me, this slave will still draw a blade and charge forward without hesitation. For Great Yan, for Your Majesty, this slave would gladly die ten thousand deaths!"

The Emperor turned his gaze back to Zhao Jiulang.

"Beloved minister, tomorrow there will be a banquet in the palace. We do not want to see the hundred officials come force the palace with petitions. Right now, what We fear most is noise."

"This minister obeys. I will calm the ministers' agitation for Your Majesty."

"Mm. Great Yan cannot do without you, beloved minister."

"This minister is terrified."

"Enough. Go handle your affairs. We should rest."

"This minister withdraws."

Zhao Jiulang rose.

Just as he was about to leave the Imperial Study... the Emperor suddenly called:

"Beloved minister. Was it worth it?"

Zhao Jiulang drew a deep breath.

Then smiled.

"Your Majesty, surely this minister is not so useless that I cannot even compare with Eunuch Wei?"

Wei Zhonghe immediately looked furious.

Of course... he was not truly angry.

A man of his standing would hardly flare up just because someone called him a eunuch.

Especially when the teasing came from the current Chancellor.

He acted angry for one reason only: to give His Majesty something lively to watch.

"Heh... heh..."

The Emperor of Yan laughed.

He pointed at Zhao Jiulang and said to Wei Zhonghe:

"Wei Zhonghe, you can endure that?"

"Aiya, Your Majesty, you have to uphold justice for this slave! The Chancellor is insulting people far too badly!"

...

Although Ji Chengjue had shouted in front of his imperial father and the two Princes that he intended to cut down the regional military powers... after leaving the roast-duck restaurant, he still brought Zheng Fan back to his princely residence.

He Sisi and Lingxiang came out to greet the guest, each bringing an infant with her.

Marquis Zheng gave each child a red packet.

A thick one.

Filled with copper coins.

After greeting everyone he ought to greet and teasing the children he ought to tease...

Ji Chengjue led Zheng Fan into his study.

There was no secret chamber inside.

If Ji Chengjue could not even secure his own study, he might as well abandon the succession struggle and go sell cornmeal.

Zheng Fan sat down by himself and crossed his legs.

After being force-fed yet another enormous mouthful of baby-related envy, he was in a genuinely miserable mood.

Ji Chengjue sat as well, picked up a bottle of cooling medicated oil produced by the Marquis Residence, and rubbed it between his brows and over his temples.

Today had exhausted him in body and mind.

"Old Zheng, my life is bitter."

"Treasure this meeting. Next time we see each other, it might be in front of your grave."

The way Marquis Zheng said it... did not sound much like a joke.

Ji Chengjue did not become angry.

Instead, he nodded while laughing.

After some time to cool their heads following what happened at the roast-duck restaurant, both men had reached new conclusions.

While sitting in the carriage, a single glance between them had already been enough to read the information each wanted from the other's eyes.

It was not some wind from Jin that had blown all the way to Yanjing.

Ever since the first time they met at Marquis Zhenbei Residence, both men had sensed a certain trait in the other that resembled himself.

"You didn't warn me." Ji Chengjue pointed at Zheng Fan. "The Prince of Jingnan actually held that attitude."

"I didn't know beforehand either. In Litian City, His Highness once asked me which imperial prince I thought was most suitable to inherit the throne."

"What did you say?"

"You know me. I never avoid recommending talent just because the man is close to me. I recommended you directly. I told him you were the best candidate to become Great Yan's future sovereign."

Ji Chengjue dug one pinkie into his ear.

Then brought it to his lips and blew on it.

"I'm deeply moved. I still don't believe you said that."

"Then what do you think I said?"

"You? You probably felt it didn't matter. You're already a regional military lord. The Prince of Jingnan is determined to protect you. No matter who sits on the Dragon Throne in the future, you'll stay far away in eastern Jin, inside your Marquis Residence, and keep pushing hands from a distance. You and I... are alike. In temperament... we are both cold-hearted above all."

"You actually think of me that way?"

"Mm-hm."

Marquis Zheng stood, shook his head, and sighed.

"Fine. Then I'll go pay a visit to the Crown Prince in the Eastern Palace."

In anyone else's eyes... this might have sounded like a threat.

Or perhaps like brothers bickering and flirting.

But Ji Chengjue leaned forward instead.

He stared at Zheng Fan.

"In the restaurant, you didn't tell me why."

Why had he stacked the two teacups together?

Why had he decided to enter the board himself?

And even... why had he come home with Ji Chengjue today?

"You could have watched the fire from across the river. Grabbed two handfuls of peanuts and enjoyed the show. Why? Why step onto the board yourself? Don't tell me it was for me. If one day you and I changed places... I would not enter the board. I would only... protect your family."

"Do you want to sit on that Dragon Throne?" Zheng Fan asked.

"I want even more to know what exactly you're planning to do."

"That part is none of your business. I have to do it." Zheng Fan looked directly at Ji Chengjue and spoke each word distinctly. "You haven't even sat on the Dragon Throne yet. Why are you asking so many questions?"

"My surname is Ji."

Ji Chengjue sat back in his chair.

He continued:

"Some things do not change depending on whether or not I sit on the Dragon Throne. My instinct tells me you're preparing something enormous. And that it will threaten the foundations of Great Yan."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to assassinate the sovereign."

"You wouldn't dare assassinate the sovereign either." Ji Chengjue's voice sank. "Tell me what you actually want to do. I can help you."

"Telling you would only put you in a difficult position."

Zheng Fan sat again.

"For now, let's take one step and see one step."

"Fine. Good."

Ji Chengjue rubbed between his brows again.

That was clearly a tacit agreement.

Zheng Fan laughed.

"Sure enough, the stability of the state is still less important than your own Dragon Throne."

"I'm a father now."

"Good. You can shut up."

"A father of three."

"I want to go to the Eastern Palace."

"I may become the father of even more children in the future."

"I'm going to defect to the Crown Prince."

"Hahahahaha!"

Ji Chengjue spread one hand and held it out before Zheng Fan.

"I want that chair. I must have it. I swear an oath with you now: help me, and I help you. We won't talk nonsense about owing each other nothing. Let's treat it like that time in the desert and trust each other once more. I liked that feeling. In all Great Yan... in all Yanjing... there aren't many people more important than you, Marquis Pingxi."

"Don't say it too absolutely." Zheng Fan stared very seriously into Ji Chengjue's eyes. "I'll say the ugly words first. Slapping palms and swearing an oath is simple. But after I help you, if you dare forget today's oath just because our positions have changed... sorry. I will be very angry. When that time comes... even if you, Ji Chengjue, are already sitting on the Dragon Throne... unless you kill me inside Yanjing... the moment I leave the capital alive... I will spare no cost to overturn your realm and kill... your entire family. I don't like stories where you trust a friend and then get betrayed. Too cliché. Too boring. Too damned disgusting."

With that...

Marquis Zheng spread his palm.

Ji Chengjue cursed with a laugh.

"You bastard surnamed Zheng, don't look down on people! This old man used to roam the jianghu too. Go to Nan'an County and ask around about the reputation of Hero Yan Little Sixth! In this life... a man has to let his blood run hot at least once. Has to go mad for someone at least once. Otherwise, what's the fun in living? Bastard Zheng... I'm in!"

Ji Chengjue slapped his palm against Zheng Fan's.

Smack!

After the oath... both men sat down quickly.

Ji Chengjue said:

"The relationship between Imperial Father and the two Princes is an impossible tangle. Little Seventh taking the throne would be the safest arrangement. It would preserve family harmony. At least for the next few years, everyone could continue pretending to be harmonious."

Zheng Fan said, "But the two Princes want entertainment."

After a pause... he added:

"Or perhaps, in their eyes, only after blades are drawn can there be real peace."

"They don't want to settle the national heir," Ji Chengjue said. "They want to watch us brothers butcher one another."

"So... we can't hesitate anymore. Time to make a move."

"No." Ji Chengjue shook his head. "Time to draw the blade. Since the elders want to watch their juniors fight, fine. Then I, Yan Little Sixth, will embarrass myself for their amusement. Eldest Brother returns to the capital tomorrow. There'll be a palace banquet. Since the two Princes and two Marquises will all have gathered, Imperial Father will certainly convene a grand court audience the day after. My first blade... will fall at that grand court audience. You... just wait for the next good show."

"I'll look forward to it."

"Don't worry. I won't disappoint you."

"Mm."

Zheng Fan nodded.

Ji Chengjue rose.

He picked up a brush, loaded it heavily with ink... and wrote eight characters on the paper before him:

"By Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees..."

"What? Feeling itchy already?" Zheng Fan asked. "There's still a little time. I can sit with you and think about your posthumous title again."

Ji Chengjue blew twice over the fresh ink.

Then said:

"Actually... it's all rather boring."

"What now?"

"Next, you'll see this clearly. If Imperial Father and those two Princes don't intervene... beating those brothers of mine... doesn't even count as a problem."

Smack!

Ji Chengjue clapped both hands together.

Then stretched lazily.

"Just watch."

[End of Chapter 683]