In the Xuanzheng Hall, the officials below the court each harbored their own thoughts, while the Emperor and Empress sitting on the throne above were rather at ease.
Just thinking that now even the Empress was sitting above watching them, the officials below felt somewhat uneasy. Among them, a few elder officials were indeed quite frightened by the fact that Meng Fu appeared in the imperial court. Fortunately, there had been some foreshadowing beforehand, or they might have collapsed in the Xuanzheng Hall, and today’s morning court session would not have begun smoothly. And in order to show that they did not care about the Empress being present and could completely ignore her, the officials did their best to act as if there was no difference from usual.
But in the course of speaking, they still couldn’t help glancing upward, wanting to know what sort of attitude the Empress held.
The various officials were indeed overthinking. At present, Meng Fu truly had no intention of speaking. She merely kept her gaze lowered, lightly watching the people below the court, allowing them to argue endlessly, allowing His Majesty to keep sneering, yet she did not speak, only silently observing them.
Some officials, upon learning from Gao Xi that the Empress would accompany His Majesty to the Xuanzheng Hall today to attend court, had actually felt a bit of anticipation. Perhaps in the future, they would no longer be scolded by His Majesty until they were drenched in dog’s blood.
But reality gave them a head-on blow. The Empress, just as Eunuch Gao had said, had no intention at all of intervening in state affairs.
During the pauses in discussion, they would occasionally and secretly lift their eyes, seeing the Empress sitting beside the Emperor, her expression peaceful, showing no joy or anger, like a Guanyin statue enshrined in a temple—appearing compassionate, yet actually the most indifferent. What does the suffering of all beings have to do with Guanyin? And what does the suffering of the officials have to do with the Empress?
The officials hung their heads low, listening to the Emperor’s scolding, and for a moment couldn’t help but feel nostalgic for the times in the front hall of Zichen Hall. At that time, the Empress would often speak to help persuade and mediate, and once the Emperor fumed a little, things would pass.
Although they were trying hard to ignore the Empress, in their hearts, they still felt somewhat disappointed.
Wasn’t it agreed that she would help persuade His Majesty not to get angry? Where was the persuasion? Could it be that only clever people could see it?
Yet everyone also understood in their hearts that there was good reason for the Empress not to speak. The moment she opened her mouth—regardless of which side she supported—it would count as interfering in state affairs, and she would inevitably face a storm of verbal attacks from her colleagues in court.
After a few days like this, the officials gradually got used to the Empress accompanying the Emperor to Xuanzheng Hall to listen to state affairs. It was just that they couldn’t quite adapt to the gap between the Zichen Hall and Xuanzheng Hall; they increasingly felt that perhaps the Empress speaking up might not be as bad as they had imagined.
Wei Jun’an had been conflicted for a long time. He knew that some of his colleagues, skilled at maneuvering, had already started submitting memorials requesting the Empress to speak. But he himself was still hesitating, weighing the pros and cons over and over again, yet still unable to make a correct decision.
He had just walked out from Zichen Hall. The glaring sun hung high in the sky. As far as the eye could see, there were only red walls and green trees, with just a few palace servants holding large brooms, sweeping fallen leaves under the trees.
Wei Jun’an slowly descended the white jade steps. He couldn’t say why, but every time he saw the Empress in Zichen Hall, he would always think of those fleeting three months last year. The image of the Empress would often overlap with the Emperor’s appearance from that time. And at moments like this, Wei Jun’an would always think—no wonder His Majesty would marry Her Majesty the Empress. It’s just a pity that His Majesty’s blooming period was too brief.
Through the comparison between Zichen Hall and Xuanzheng Hall, the benefits of the Empress speaking were obvious. As for the drawbacks, they actually weren’t as severe as people thought. The Empress had long since separated from the Meng family, so there was no issue of outside relatives. His Majesty was a wise and sagely ruler. Although he liked the Empress greatly, he would not go so far as to delay state affairs because of her. It’s just that, since ancient times, there has been no precedent for Emperor and Empress attending court together. Should this precedent be set?
Not long after, another young man came out from Zichen Hall. It was the Assistant Minister of Revenue, Chen Xian. He and Wei Jun’an had a somewhat roundabout familial relation by marriage and also shared a teacher-student bond. Seeing Wei Jun’an standing at the foot of the white jade steps with a somewhat odd expression, Chen Xian quickly walked over and asked curiously:
“Lord Wei, what are you thinking about?”
Wei Jun’an looked at Chen Xian and didn’t hide anything, saying directly: “Thinking about the Empress.”
Chen Xian: “…”
You can’t just randomly think about Her Majesty, teacher!
He said, “If His Majesty hears what you just said, you’ll probably be sweeping the street outside the Noon Court Gate by this afternoon.”
Wei Jun’an glared at Chen Xian and said: “Not in the mood to joke with you. I’m thinking seriously.”
“What are you thinking about? Let this subordinate help you think it through?” Chen Xian pressed on.
Wei Jun’an let out a light sigh. He actually trusted Chen Xian quite a bit, knowing that he wouldn’t speak carelessly outside, so he asked, “This morning in Xuanzheng Hall, didn’t you get scolded by His Majesty? You have nothing to say about that?”
Regarding this matter, Chen Xian was surprisingly open-minded. He waved his hand and said, “Already used to it.”
Wei Jun’an sighed again, “I was used to it too. But now that we have the Empress, this old man finds himself not quite used to it anymore.”
“That’s true,” Chen Xian nodded. He could completely understand Wei Jun’an’s feelings.
“I feel…” Wei Jun’an glanced around, then lowered his voice and said, “Sometimes I even feel that Her Majesty the Empress might be sitting up there… as if watching us make fools of ourselves.”
“You mustn’t speak carelessly,” Chen Xian, though young, was quite mature in conduct. He disapproved and said, “Lord, how can you speculate about Her Majesty like this? Isn’t the reason the Empress doesn’t speak… because of us?”
Wei Jun’an was silent for a long time before saying, “That’s reasonable, but I still feel that something’s off.”
If the Empress does not speak to help soothe His Majesty, what’s the point of her coming to Xuanzheng Hall? But if she were to speak, that’s not something Wei Jun’an and others want to see either.
After exiting Noon Court Gate, just before parting ways, Chen Xian suddenly turned his head and asked Wei Jun’an with a smile: “Lord Wei, do you think His Majesty has the Empress come to Xuanzheng Hall just to serve as a decoration at his side?”
Wei Jun’an was stunned on the spot. Before he could respond, Chen Xian had already strolled off toward the other end of the long street. A gust of wind blew by, and Wei Jun’an felt as if enlightened, like sweet spring poured into the mind.
He carefully pondered His Majesty’s intentions. Since His Majesty brought the Empress to attend court and listen to political affairs, he must be considering entrusting state affairs to her. He had always been analyzing whether the Empress should interfere in government, and had already concluded that the benefits outweighed the drawbacks. If sooner or later the Empress would involve herself in governance, then it would be better for him to first express goodwill toward His Majesty.
Day after day passed. The number of memorials requesting the Empress to speak increased. The Empress is the model of womanhood for the world, and all people under heaven are also the Empress’s children—thus, her participation in government is not entirely unreasonable.
Meng Fu only organized these memorials properly, not in a rush to speak. Though His Majesty often got angry during court, it no longer affected his health, and the officials had also been behaving lately without major trouble. There truly was no need for her to speak.
Until after Mid-Autumn Festival, someone revealed during court a case of corruption in the imperial examination system, implicating several hundred people. His Majesty flew into a rage and punished half of them on the spot. Among these were a few who were, indeed, somewhat wrongly accused—at least, their crimes did not warrant such punishment. Their colleagues understood this in their hearts, but no one dared to plead for them at such a time, fearing His Majesty’s anger might extend to themselves. They thought they would find a way to mediate later and only hoped the accused could hold on.
“Your Majesty, this matter implicates many. It’s better to investigate more thoroughly,” the Empress suddenly spoke from below the throne.
A breeze passed through the vast Xuanzheng Hall. The glazed bead curtains swayed gently, producing soft sounds, like sprouts breaking through the soil in early spring.
No one had expected the Empress to speak at this moment.
But when His Majesty was angry like this, he typically wouldn’t listen to anyone.
Meng Fu reached out and tugged on His Majesty’s sleeve—he had already stood up and paced several times.
Li Yue turned to look at Meng Fu, face cold and silent. Meng Fu was not afraid of his demeanor and tugged on his sleeve even harder.
Their eyes met. What Meng Fu showed in her eyes was the same gentle gaze as always. Li Yue took a deep breath, turned back, and sat down again on the dragon throne. He waved his hand and said to Meng Fu: “Help Zhen inquire further.”
His Majesty had openly and clearly allowed the Empress to intervene in politics, and yet, at this moment, no one in court raised any objection.
Meng Fu pointed out several suspicious details that His Majesty had overlooked in his fury and designated officials to continue investigating the case. The hundred officials were shocked to discover that Her Majesty the Empress understood court affairs far more than they had imagined.
For a moment, no one knew what to say. In the long silence, an elderly official shakily stepped forward. His face was slightly flushed, and his eyes shone brightly as if glowing. He understood well what his colleagues were thinking. Now that the hen was crowing at dawn [牝鸡司晨: an idiom referring to women overstepping traditional gender roles, often used to criticize female interference in politics], they were all pretending to be foolish and dared not step forward, fearing that the Empress might speak ill of them before the Emperor.
But he wasn’t afraid! If no one on this court dared to speak frankly and offer advice, then Great Zhou might truly be finished!
If Wei Jun’an and the others knew what this old man was thinking, they’d probably all spit in unison—acting like they were all treacherous ministers and petty men! It’s not as if they hadn’t spoken frankly before. It’s just that after so many years, they’d managed to discern a few patterns: when it concerned the livelihood of the people under heaven, His Majesty would correct things quite readily. But when it came to breaking certain rituals and rules, he was very stubborn—once he made up his mind, not even nine oxen could pull him back.