Meng Fu’s mind swiftly passed through the information she knew about this His Majesty.
Li Yue, third son of the previous emperor, in his youth offended the crown prince and was sent by the previous emperor to the northern frontier. It was said to let him gain some experience, to temper his disposition, but ever since the founding of Da Zhou, the country emphasized the civil and neglected the military. The previous emperor doing this was equivalent to letting the third prince stay far from the center of power. Even if something happened to the crown prince in the future, he absolutely would not have a chance to ascend the throne.
However, no one expected that once this third prince arrived in the northern frontier, he would be like a wild horse that had thrown off its reins—no one could control him anymore. The world was vast, allowing him to gallop freely.
Because of various political and military reasons, in recent years Da Zhou had been suffering defeat after defeat in battles with foreign tribes, paying indemnities every year. The second month after Li Yue arrived in the northern frontier, a foreign tribe came to attack the city. The city’s defending official fought passively, and was beheaded by him with a single sword. He personally led a light cavalry unit out of the city to confront the enemy, pursuing the attacking tribe all the way three hundred li [approx. 150 km] north into the desert.
From then on, the situation between Da Zhou and the foreign tribes began to reverse. Although the previous emperor was often displeased with his acting on his own, thinking that they no longer had to pay indemnities and might even gain something from the foreign tribes, he stubbornly endured the pressure from all the officials in court and kept him stationed in the northern frontier.
Five years later, the previous emperor fell seriously ill and ordered the crown prince to act as regent. After the New Year, someone reported that the crown prince was plotting rebellion. The previous emperor, in great fury, summoned the crown prince before him and scolded him harshly. That very night, the crown prince slipped and fell into the lake on his way back to his sleeping quarters and passed away.
The next day, the previous emperor heard of the crown prince’s death, was greatly agitated, fell into a coma, and was on the brink of death. During this period, the adult princes contended openly and secretly, each employing their own schemes. By the time the previous emperor woke up again, only the fourth prince and Li Yue, who was far away in the northern frontier, remained among the adult princes.
That fourth prince, no one knew what happened—maybe his hair was a bit sparse, and with the early spring chill, his head also got cold, so his brain twitched. He forged an imperial decree and sent it to the northern frontier, ordering Li Yue to commit suicide.
When a person is just the right amount of stupid, it makes others doubt whether he is truly stupid or just pretending to be stupid.
In any case, Li Yue thought that the fourth prince’s head had probably been kicked by a donkey, and didn’t take the matter to heart at all.
Soon after, the fourth prince learned that not only did Li Yue not commit suicide, he even roasted and ate the forged decree with grilled lamb. The fourth prince was instantly enraged beyond measure and immediately dispatched assassins to the northern frontier to help Li Yue “resolve” the matter.
At that time, Li Yue had almost driven the foreign tribes back to their homeland, but because of the fourth prince’s interference, the enemy caught a breather. Li Yue was furious and, instead of continuing the campaign, made arrangements for northern frontier affairs and directly raised troops to march from Dingzhou all the way to the imperial capital. The fourth prince, seeing the situation turn dire, packed his things and tried to flee in the night. Unfortunately, his role in the crown prince’s “accidental fall” was exposed, and he died at the hands of the crown prince’s retainers.
When the previous emperor regained consciousness and learned everything, he sat numbly on the dragon throne for a whole day and night. Before dawn, he wrote the imperial edict of succession. Looking at Li Yue standing below the court, he sighed three times and then breathed his last.
That same year, Li Yue ascended the throne and changed the era name to Xihe.
Before she married, Meng Fu had heard her father talk about this His Majesty. At the time, he was still just the third prince. Her father said he had a fiery temper, was unruly and unyielding, and had his own opinions about everything, which gave the previous emperor a big headache. But since he was still the emperor’s own son, the emperor had no way to deal with him, so he sent him to the northern frontier.
One year after she married into the Xuanping Marquis Manor, this His Majesty ascended the throne. After that, she would occasionally hear others mention this His Majesty—nothing more than “Yesterday His Majesty was furious,” “Today His Majesty was enraged,” “Tomorrow His Majesty might explode in rage.”
This His Majesty seemed to be angry all the time.
Now that she had become Li Yue, could that His Majesty be at the Xuanping Marquis Manor?
Meng Fu simply didn’t dare to imagine what that His Majesty would do after arriving at the Xuanping Marquis Manor and hearing someone tell him to “make room.” Most likely the other two concubines would also take this opportunity to try to gain something.
Moreover, the middle of the month was near, and those few people kept in Ronghui Hall in the marquis manor were due to come asking for money again. In these past two years, they had been asking for more and more each time. And the few shops in the manor that could make money were in the old madam’s hands—who knows whether that His Majesty would be able to handle the turnover.
She subconsciously raised her hand to press her forehead, then realized this wasn’t her body—no matter how difficult the problem, she wouldn’t get a headache.
Forget it, everyone should just pray for themselves.
Meng Fu lowered her hand again, and then heard Gao Xi say: “Your Majesty, the imperial physician has already arrived.”
“No need.” She lifted the quilt and got out of bed. Looking around, she asked Gao Xi, “What time is it now?”
Gao Xi replied: “It is already Mao hour [卯时, roughly 5–7 AM]. Your Majesty should go to court now.”
Go to court…
Meng Fu, in her childhood, had been taught by her tutor books like the Nü Jie and Nü Ze [《女戒》《女则》, “Nu Jie” and “Regulations for Women” — Confucian moral texts prescribing proper female behavior]. As a young girl, she learned housekeeping while following her mother’s side, and after marrying, what she managed in the marquis manor were also all matters within the household. But now, she was being asked to govern the entire world.
She could feign illness and be excused from this morning’s court session, but she was afraid of missing important matters. Besides, even if she could delay for one day, if that His Majesty still didn’t return, could she continue dragging it out like this?
Meng Fu’s heart was full of countless thoughts, yet none of it was revealed on her face. She had always conducted herself cautiously and with self-respect. Since childhood, she had been extremely sensitive to others’ emotional fluctuations, very adept at watching words and observing expressions. With just a glance exchanged between Gao Xi and a palace servant, she would know what she ought to do.
Except for that short period when Meng Fu had just woken up, Gao Xi had never again sensed anything unusual from her. He merely felt that this morning’s His Majesty was a little deep and unfathomable.
After breakfast, the palace servants came to assist Meng Fu with changing clothes. She put on a dark-colored dragon robe and donned the crown with twelve jade bead strings. Standing at the center of the people.
This His Majesty had a tall and large build. Just now when the palace servants were combing her hair, she had caught a glimpse in the mirror of this His Majesty’s appearance: sideburns sharp as if cut by a blade, sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes — very handsome. Only on the left cheek was a shallow scar, likely left from battles in the northern frontier in the past, but it wasn’t obvious unless one looked closely.
Gao Xi knelt on the ground to arrange her robes, and when he looked up, he unintentionally saw that Meng Fu was gazing at the ceramic figurines on the long table not far away, her expression unexpectedly somewhat gentle. Gao Xi’s hands paused, feeling he might’ve done something wrong — this kind of look from His Majesty was genuinely a bit terrifying.
Gao Xi was uneasy in his heart, full of apprehension. Before Meng Fu got on the imperial carriage heading to Xuanzheng Hall, he still mustered the courage to advise Meng Fu, saying: “Your Majesty, when you arrive at court today, don’t get too angry. Your dragon body is important. Otherwise, after court, shall this servant call Divine Physician Pang to come take a look at you?”
Meng Fu lowered her eyes to look at Gao Xi. The concern on his face was not fake. From this, it could be seen that this His Majesty did indeed have some illness and should not be provoked at the moment. For Meng Fu, this wasn’t a difficult thing, so she replied, “Alright.”
She suddenly recalled that some time ago, when she attended a banquet at the Lin residence, she unintentionally overheard someone say: His Majesty hadn’t cursed at anyone for several days. His Majesty likely had changed temperaments due to this illness.
Meng Fu carefully analyzed the relationship between all this and thus deduced how she ought to deal with those courtiers when she went to court later.
Gao Xi, hearing her agree so straightforwardly, did not feel relieved; instead, he felt even more certain that their His Majesty must be plotting something big in his heart.
Yesterday, His Majesty had probably truly gotten very angry. Today, someone would likely suffer misfortune again.
Li Yue had endured for almost half a month without losing temper at the ministers, but after reading those memorials last night, all was for nothing. So next, he would very likely unleash all the pent-up anger during this time in one go. Those lords getting flogged was a small matter.
Throughout the ages, there had never been a stupid person among the eunuchs who could rise to Gao Xi’s position. And the smart eunuchs all understood the principle of “better my fellow die than me” [死道友不死贫道 — idiom meaning sacrificing others to save oneself].
But… it’s not good to let all fellow Daoists die, right?
Gao Xi decided that before morning court, he had to go remind those officials — today they’d better not oppose His Majesty.
It wasn’t just for their sake, but also so Li Yue could recover sooner.
Outside Xuanzheng Hall, the sky had not yet brightened. Civil and military officials were already waiting there. They leaned close and whispered among themselves. Although His Majesty had not used words to lash out at them for several days, they still maintained a fine tradition left behind after Li Yue had been on the throne for one year — they would guess what fresh vocabulary His Majesty would use today to scold them until they were covered in dog blood [狗血淋头 — idiom meaning to be berated viciously and thoroughly].
As they talked, the ministers brought up the matter of performance evaluations, and in a flash, sighs and groans filled the area outside Xuanzheng Hall.
Some time ago, His Majesty had proposed setting up an evaluation system for officials both in court and in local governments — a small evaluation every half year, and a big evaluation every full year. Those who failed would either be demoted or directly dismissed from office.
At the time, His Majesty told them to go back and think about it. These days, the matter was about to be finalized. These officials, who had endured ten bitter years of study to finally rise to prominence, might now end up selling sweet potatoes at home because of these evaluations. It wasn’t that they didn’t do real work — they just had no confidence they could pass His Majesty’s assessments.
The officials from the Secretariat, the Chancellery, and the Six Ministries had always been at odds with each other — this one suppressing that one, and that one retaliating in turn. But this time, in a rare occurrence, they had united on the same front: firmly opposing performance evaluations. The day they
left court, they hurried home and wrote piles of memorials, arguing from every possible angle that evaluations were unfeasible, hoping His Majesty would discern clearly and withdraw this terrifying idea.
Those memorials should have already reached His Majesty’s desk. Whether his attitude had changed after reading them was still unknown.
Several important ministers in the court huddled together, discussing one after another how they ought to respond to the Emperor once they were in court.
“This matter, we absolutely must not let His Majesty succeed in carrying it through.”
“Previously, when His Majesty wanted to add more regional inspection officials, we let that go. But now he even wants to implement performance evaluations — isn’t that just taking our lives?”
“Exactly, exactly. His Majesty has always been strict. Once this performance evaluation starts, who among our colleagues can actually meet His Majesty’s standards?”
“How about this — during today’s morning court, let none of us bring it up. If His Majesty forgets, then that’s best. If not, we’ll just stall it, say this matter can’t be decided lightly and needs further discussion.”
“Whoever first admits defeat to our His Majesty — is the grandson.” [Note: “当孙子 (to be the grandson)” is slang meaning to submit, surrender, or act cowardly — implying deep humiliation.]
“Well said. I believe none of the lords present want to be the grandson, right?”
The Zhongshuling [中书令, Minister of the Central Secretariat] Wei Jun’an was particularly resolute on this matter. Although mindful of his own position and didn’t mention the “grandson” talk, privately, he had already spoken with many colleagues, even specifically reached out to officials from the Chancellery and Six Ministries, with whom they usually didn’t get along. No matter what, this performance evaluation must be stopped. If anyone dared to be the first to bring it up with His Majesty, he would certainly make sure that person paid for it.
The officials surrounding him all expressed their determination to oppose His Majesty to the end. Even though some among them understood clearly that this performance evaluation wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, for the sake of their own futures, they didn’t dare to speak easily.
Gao Xi arrived outside Xuanzheng Hall a step ahead of Meng Fu. Seeing him come, the officials swarmed over and asked him: “Eunuch Gao, why hasn’t His Majesty arrived yet?”
Gao Xi replied, “Lords, please wait a bit. His Majesty will arrive shortly. It’s just that His Majesty did not rest well last night. Once you all are in court, please, be cautious in your words — cautious.”
As a eunuch, Gao Xi dared not speak carelessly on political matters and could only say this much.
The entire court was shocked. The last time Gao Xi said something like this was back when remnants of the late Crown Prince’s faction were secretly plotting rebellion in Dingzhou. That incident implicated many. His Majesty dismissed over two hundred officials at court on the spot, and the imperial prison — which had been sitting mostly empty for years — was suddenly filled to eighty percent capacity. The main culprits and all those complicit were executed. The white jade steps before Xuanzheng Hall were stained red, and the palace servants had to scrub for three whole days before it was finally cleaned.
This was clearly a threat — an intimidation. Who knew what terrifying method His Majesty would use to deal with them today.
Still, we absolutely must not be the grandson!
Wei Jun’an’s gaze swept one by one across his colleagues’ faces, very satisfied with their expressions.