Meng Fu hadn’t expected Li Yue to say such a thing, and for a moment didn’t quite know how to respond, so she said nothing.
She lowered her gaze to the memorial in her hand; on it was the imperial reply written in cinnabar ink by His Majesty.
She recalled when she was young, listening to Meng Yanxing lecture students by his side—there was indeed a moment when she wished she were a man, so she could stand upright before others and speak her thoughts, fulfill her ambitions.
Opposite her, the more Li Yue thought about it, the more he felt his suggestion was quite good. He rubbed his chin and continued: “At that time, the two of us can attend court together, and after returning, we’ll handle the memorials together.”
Speaking up to here, Li Yue paused, seeming somewhat embarrassed. He coughed once to cover up a trace of shame, and went on: “This way, we should be able to free up quite a bit of time. A’Fu, we could go out of the palace and play, or do some other things we want to do.”
Meng Fu set down the memorial in her hand and looked up at Li Yue. Her pitch-black and luminous pupils were like an unseen deep well, reflecting Li Yue’s current appearance.
Li Yue sat up straight, and he heard Meng Fu say: “Your Majesty, do you truly mean it?”
“Of course I mean it. A’Fu, are you unwilling?”
Li Yue pressed his hands on the table, leaning his body forward slightly, and said, “If you don’t want to, that’s fine too. Didn’t you go to the Imperial Garden this morning to write a book? Have you decided what to write?”
Meng Fu shook her head and said she hadn’t. Then she said to Li Yue: “The ministers at court probably won’t be willing.”
His Majesty said, with utter lack of sympathy: “There are plenty of things they don’t want. One more won’t make a difference.”
Meng Fu couldn’t help but laugh. She said slowly: “Several of the senior officials at court have weak hearts. If they actually saw me standing in the Xuanzheng Hall, they might just keel over on the spot.”
Li Yue clicked his tongue and retorted: “That can’t be. Just last month I scolded them for several days in a row, and they still stood strong at court—not even taking a single sick day.”
Meng Fu could almost picture the ministers’ dejected faces while being scolded. She laughed and said:
“…Maybe they’re used to it by now.”
Li Yue tilted his head: “So A’Fu, does this mean you agree?”
Being able to attend court and participate in state affairs—this was something many people dreamed of. Meng Fu naturally had no objections. She nodded and said: “But this matter still needs to be approached gradually, taken slowly. As for Yun and Gui, what plans does Your Majesty have?”
Li Yue exhaled.
In fact, Meng Fu wasn’t the first to propose abolishing the Tusi system. He had seriously considered the feasibility of this matter when at court.
However, over in Yun and Gui, the local Tusi [note: hereditary native chieftains appointed by imperial decree] had been throwing their weight around for hundreds of years. They certainly would not accept their power being undermined.
When the time came, conflict would be inevitable. And the northern frontier’s non-Han tribes still had not been fully pacified—if war also erupted in the south, unrest would surely sweep through the country.
Even if reforming the various departments in Yun and Gui was the goal, it would still take considerable time.
Moreover, the terrain over there was treacherous, with many miasmas.
This would not be an easy war to fight.
Li Yue raised a hand and scratched his head irritably.
Meng Fu pushed the tea in front of him and advised: “Your Majesty, the road must be walked one step at a time. Things must be done one at a time. You can’t achieve everything in one battle. The Tusi have existed for hundreds of years already—a few more years won’t matter.”
“I know, I know all of it,” Li Yue put his hand down and looked at the tea in front of him, sighing, “This is just how I am.”
“I know,” Meng Fu stood up, walked to Li Yue’s side, sat down, took his arm, kissed his cheek, and smiled: “I just like you this way.”
Li Yue looked down at her, voice low:.“A’Fu…”
Meng Fu let go of his hand and released Li Yue, then said seriously: “Alright, you haven’t finished reading today’s memorials yet. Time to read them.”
Sure enough, His Majesty was not suited to be a foolish monarch.
He picked up the cinnabar brush and resumed his work.
As he opened the memorials, he asked Meng Fu: “What about you, A’Fu? Are you going back to the Imperial Garden?”
Meng Fu replied: “I’ll stay here and keep you company.”
His Majesty’s lips immediately curled upward, but unfortunately, his good mood didn’t last long.
From the moment he opened the first memorial, his brow furrowed.
In this world, natural disasters and human calamities occurred at every moment—some big, some small. Out of ten issues, even if eight were resolved, the remaining two were enough to get Li Yue fuming.
And despite having lectured those flatterers more than once, there were always one or two fools who thought themselves clever, fond of singing his praises.
What was most maddening was—
One memorial had eight full pages of nonsense.
Li Yue originally intended to just tear it up, but unexpectedly discovered that the last page actually brought up a proper matter.
The result was—His Majesty even more wanted to tear it up, but couldn’t because of the one useful thing on that final page.
His Majesty let out a cold laugh.
Fine, if he couldn’t tear the memorial, he’d tear the man at tomorrow’s court session.
If you can’t do the job, then don’t do it!
It’s hard enough to find a three-legged person in Great Zhou, but there are plenty who can speak like a human being!
Meng Fu saw that his expression was growing increasingly angry and knew His Majesty’s patience was clearly about to run out. Most likely, he would start pacing in circles again in a moment. She spoke up at the right time:
“Your Majesty, why don’t you take a rest first? I’ll help pick through the rest.”
Li Yue responded with a snort, but his movements were quick—he immediately cleared a space for Meng Fu.
Meng Fu sat behind the long desk and began flipping through the memorials.
Li Yue sat across from her, resting his chin in his hand, staring at her for a while, and asked: “A’Fu, aren’t you angry?”
“Maybe the more infuriating memorials were already read by you.” Meng Fu looked up at Li Yue and smiled as she said this.
This was just a joke. Both Meng Fu and Li Yue were aware that even with what was left, His Majesty would certainly still get angry. Meng Fu’s reason could, in most cases, override her emotions, while His Majesty was the opposite. Fortunately, when His Majesty was being irrational, he would just pace around in circles and not make reckless decisions.
In Meng Fu’s view, most of the memorials here weren’t worth getting angry over. If something was done poorly, then dismiss the official who did it; if it warranted demotion, then demote. There was no need to harm the liver with anger [“大动肝火” literally: to stir up liver-fire, i.e., get overly angry; a TCM-based idiom].
But His Majesty just had that kind of temper. Sometimes, hearing His Majesty pacing around cursing people, Meng Fu still found him adorable.
Meng Fu had handled almost all of the remaining memorials. Only a few were undecided. After discussing them with His Majesty for a while and still not reaching a decision, they simply decided to leave them for court tomorrow.
To resolve the Yun and Gui issue, one had to first ensure the northern frontier was completely pacified, and that the foreign tribes would never invade again. Most court officials held this view. However, some felt this would exhaust the people and drain resources, and that it would be better to adopt a pacification policy—a peaceful resolution.
Everyone had been officials in court for many years. They all had a good idea of His Majesty’s temperament. But sometimes people just didn’t believe in evil, insisting on smashing into the southern wall [to stubbornly pursue a dead end]; only after smashing their heads and bleeding would they learn to calm down.
On the dragon throne, Li Yue said in a deep voice: “We understand the meaning of all you beloved ministers.”
As soon as he spoke, the Xuanzheng Hall instantly fell silent. All officials lowered their heads to look at their feet. They could guess His Majesty’s attitude toward the northern frontier conflict, but every time after arguing with colleagues, when they heard His Majesty speak, they would still feel a strong sense of pressure.
After a long time, Li Yue on the court said: “Then let it be done as Minister Wei says.”
After saying this, he didn’t say anything further and directly had the officials move on to the next issue.
His Majesty had agreed with his proposal and made no revisions or supplements. Wei Jun’an should have felt happy—he should even go home and offer incense to his ancestors. Yet at this moment, Wei Jun’an’s feelings were a mix of flavors—difficult to describe. He slightly turned his head to meet Liu Changlan’s eyes, and the two of them actually saw a trace of melancholy in each other’s eyes at the same time.
If it had been in the past, they would’ve already thanked the heavens if they didn’t get scolded during morning court.
But after experiencing those three months last year, every time they reached this moment, they couldn’t help but feel a faint sense of loss.
Those three months seemed like a brief dream they had experienced.
After the autumn hunt, they never again heard His Majesty praise them.
Clearly, before that, His Majesty had sincerely said they were his trusted aides, the backbone of the court, his indispensable left and right arms.
And the result?
Once the autumn hunt passed, His Majesty turned his face and denied them—didn’t even want his left and right arms anymore.
For a moment, it felt like His Majesty was a heartless scumbag who flipped faces [负心汉: a man who is ungrateful and forgets love or loyalty, often used for unfaithful lovers].
They were forced to reflect, again and again, on whether they’d done anything wrong during the autumn hunt.
After much thought, they couldn’t come up with anything.
At most, they occasionally had a thought of deceiving His Majesty—but it was just a passing thought. They never actually did anything.
Could it be that His Majesty could read minds?
Matters like this should be judged by actions, not thoughts, Your Majesty!
In the few days around the imperial wedding, His Majesty was indeed a bit gentler than usual and would occasionally smile at them.
But compared to those three months, it was still far inferior.
If they had never possessed it in the first place, they wouldn’t be so resentful now.
Li Yue, however, didn’t care what the officials were thinking.
If he knew they spent their days yearning for imperial favor, he would most likely scold them as pretentious.
Doing no serious work, only thinking about these useless things!
Meng Fu was worried that if she directly appeared in court, it would scare a few of the elderly officials into illness.
So, last night, after discussing with Li Yue, they decided to boil the frog in warm water [idiom meaning to introduce change gradually so it’s not noticed until it’s too late]—add firewood one stick at a time, step by step lowering the officials’ threshold of what they could tolerate.
Starting from this day, Meng Fu remained in the front hall of the Zichen Hall, receiving officials together with Li Yue.
However, she didn’t sit together with Li Yue. After all, that table wasn’t long; if she sat over there, it would be a bit cramped. In front of the ministers, one still had to appear proper.
The first official to see Meng Fu in the front hall was Wang Shun, Minister of the Court of Judicial Review (Dali Si Qing).
He had come to submit a case file.
In the seventh month of last year, Wang Shun was especially praised by His Majesty for solving three gruesome cases in the imperial capital within seven days.
After that, he became even more diligent in solving cases.
But unfortunately, he never again received praise from His Majesty like that first time—at most, just a “not bad.”
This time, the case files he brought were all carefully selected. He wasn’t sure if His Majesty would be satisfied.
Wang Shun adjusted his mindset, took a deep breath, and stepped into Zichen Hall.
Just as he was about to kneel to pay respects, from the corner of his eye he suddenly saw Meng Fu sitting by the window.
Wang Shun froze on the spot, his movements losing control, and he nearly fell flat on the ground.
Why is the Empress here?