Wei Jun’an sighed deeply again, the look in his eyes carried a kind of joy and self-satisfaction that Liu Changlan could not understand. He said to Liu Changlan in the tone of someone who had “been there”: “You don’t understand.”
Liu Changlan saw Wei Jun’an’s expression, and at once felt as if a fishbone was stuck in his throat—unbearably uncomfortable. He didn’t understand? He thought Wei Jun’an must have really eaten a poisonous mushroom! What exactly was it about the Zichen Hall that could be so bewitching, that once people entered, they all forgot what they originally came to do!
Liu Changlan, who was usually very mild-tempered, couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh at this moment. He mocked, “I think Lord Wei, when you return home, you’d better get a doctor to properly examine your brain.”
Wei Jun’an furrowed his brows subconsciously upon hearing this. What’s this about? Why was Liu Changlan suddenly being so hurtful?
Could it be that he knew Her Majesty the Empress had just praised him?
Liu Changlan’s jealousy was still as strong as ever—after all, they served the same court. In fact, he really ought to be more tolerant toward him. So, he once again gave Liu Changlan a generous smile.
If Liu Changlan could read Wei Jun’an’s mind at this moment, he would probably be so disgusted he’d vomit last night’s dinner. But even without understanding it, just seeing Wei Jun’an smile at him again made him feel thoroughly nauseated.
Wei Jun’an didn’t stoop to his level; instead, he wanted to see what ability Liu Changlan actually had. Could he really persuade Her Majesty the Empress to leave the front hall?
Liu Changlan snorted, flung his sleeves, and walked toward the Zichen Hall. But the moment he entered, he regretted it. He had always been someone who got along with others and acted according to the situation, rarely taking the lead. If he really had to take the lead, he would definitely drag Wei Jun’an with him.
He admitted he had let his anger get to his head. Now that he saw His Majesty, Liu Changlan immediately sobered up. Even if he wanted to persuade the Empress to leave the front hall, he needed to be tactful about it.
His Majesty was currently seated behind a desk, still carrying the remnants of anger on his face, holding a brush and seemingly writing something. Meanwhile, the Empress stood beside him, sleeves rolled up, grinding ink for His Majesty.
Liu Changlan bowed and said, “This humble official Liu Changlan pays respects to Your Majesty.”
His Majesty sat there with a gloomy expression, saying nothing. Liu Changlan’s heart began to sink, and he even started to resent Wei Jun’an and the others. Could it be that they saw His Majesty in a rage and didn’t dare to utter a single word?
But judging from their expressions, it seemed more than that.
Liu Changlan regretted not asking Zhao Feiyuan more about what was going on inside when he was outside. But it was too late for regrets now. So, suppressing the unease in his heart, Liu Changlan slightly raised his head and said, pretending to be surprised: “Your Majesty, why is Her Majesty the Empress also present here?”
Meng Fu lifted her eyes and glanced at Liu Changlan. This Lord Liu’s acting was still just as bad as ever—completely incomparable to His Majesty.
Just look at how well His Majesty was embodying an emperor in the throes of anger.
Of course, comparing the two was somewhat unfair to Lord Liu. After all, His Majesty was simply playing himself.
He had just read On the Restoration of Rites and was still not fully over the anger it stirred. Meng Fu raised her hand and gently stroked Li Yue’s back a couple of times. His Majesty really loved getting angry.
Li Yue looked up at Liu Changlan and gave a cold laugh: “What do you think?”
Liu Changlan was stunned. What did it have to do with him that Her Majesty the Empress was in the Zichen Hall? Even if thunder struck or it rained, that couldn’t be blamed on him, right?
Just as Liu Changlan was about to speak, Meng Fu said, “Lord Liu, you’ve come at just the right time. His Majesty is currently angry with you.”
Upon hearing this, he nearly cried on the spot. How was this coming at the right time! Wasn’t this him walking into his own death?
Liu Changlan quickly knelt down, filled with terror and fear, and said: “Your Majesty, this humble official does not know what wrongdoing I have committed.”
Li Yue lowered his head and said nothing, as if he had nothing more to say to him. Fortunately, Meng Fu was willing to explain for him. She said, “Lord Liu, His Majesty just read your On the Restoration of Rites. The later parts of it were truly a bit much.”
Liu Changlan was a proper scholar, and he deeply admired the orderly rites and laws of ancient dynasties. Looking at the current times, he always felt people’s hearts had become unvirtuous. The night before last, after a few drinks, he wrote On the Restoration of Rites.
While writing it, his inspiration flowed endlessly—one breath to the end, every sentence powerful and resonant. Upon waking and rereading it, he was even more satisfied. In a moment of heat, he presented the essay before the emperor.
He should have thought of it earlier—His Majesty hated these rules the most. Back when he was still a prince, he’d often argue with the late emperor. Phrases like “the father is the guiding principle for the son, the ruler is the guiding principle for the subject” [Confucian ethical codes regarding hierarchical relationships]—in His Majesty’s eyes, all of them were nothing but fart.
Liu Changlan knew that today, he probably wouldn’t be able to escape a round of scolding from His Majesty. This was truly “failing before even setting out on a campaign.” Blame it on him for not finding a fortune-teller to draw a divination lot before entering the palace. Now, he’d foolishly placed himself under His Majesty’s nose. He lowered his head, waiting to be scolded.
But the one who spoke first wasn’t His Majesty—it was Her Majesty the Empress. Meng Fu advised, “Your Majesty, Lord Liu merely didn’t think things through for a moment. You don’t need to be so angry.”
“Is that so?” A crack was heard—Li Yue snapped the brush in his hand into two pieces. A few drops of ink splattered on the table. Meng Fu’s eyelids twitched. She looked at the ink stains on the table, her lips moved slightly, but she didn’t say anything. She only patted His Majesty’s back twice again.
Li Yue flung the broken brush to the side and continued: “I think it’s because he’s getting old—his brain doesn’t work well anymore. Has the Secretariat been this idle lately? Has he got so much time to write this kind of nonsense? Should I grant him an extended vacation so he can go back and write a few more?”
Liu Changlan felt in a daze that this must be karma. Not long ago outside the Zichen Hall, he’d mocked Wei Jun’an for having brain problems—and now it was his turn to be scolded by His Majesty.
“Your Majesty, have you forgotten what the imperial physician told you? To not get so worked up all the time. How many times have you already gotten angry just this morning?” Meng Fu spoke while pouring a cup of tea and handed it to Li Yue. She continued, “Besides, I think Lord Liu’s On the Restoration of Rites shows much-improved writing skills compared to before. Didn’t you want someone to write a few articles on the unification and integration of the tribes in Yun and Gui? Why not let Lord Liu do it?”
Liu Changlan hadn’t expected the situation to take such a sharp turn. He suddenly raised his head, opened his mouth, wanting to thank her—but he couldn’t be sure of His Majesty’s attitude.
No matter what, the Empress speaking for him at a time like this—he should indeed thank Her Majesty properly.
But quite a while passed, and His Majesty still didn’t speak. Liu Changlan’s heart sank bit by bit—it seemed not even Her Majesty could persuade His Majesty.
Meng Fu lightly tapped her finger on the table, reminding His Majesty that it was about enough now. Only then did His Majesty reluctantly say, “Then let him write.”
After he said this—and before Liu Changlan could offer thanks—Li Yue added: “Just seeing him annoys me. Empress, you talk to him about what to write and how it should be written.”
Meng Fu responded with an “Mm.” She had already discussed it with Li Yue: after Yun and Gui were pacified, they wouldn’t just need to open up farmland and develop the economy, but also promote cultural integration. Li Yue wanted someone to write a few widely circulated essays with the theme of “The World as One Family”. They had to be focused in theme, thought-provoking, yet concise, forceful, and catchy.
Meng Fu explained His Majesty’s intentions to Liu Changlan and took the opportunity to discuss with him how to write such an essay. As they talked more and more, Liu Changlan completely forgot what he originally came to do. This wasn’t an Empress—this was clearly a kindred spirit!
It wasn’t until His Majesty called for the meal to be served that he suddenly woke up, quickly begged forgiveness and took his leave.
His Majesty was probably already tired of him, waving him away with a gesture.
Liu Changlan walked out of the Zichen Hall full of joy. Since last September, it had been a long time since he felt this kind of happiness.
He was already thinking about what he should eat when he got home. He looked up and saw Wei Jun’an still standing at the bottom of the stone steps. So much time had passed, and this old fox was still here waiting for him.
Seeing him come out, Wei Jun’an immediately let out an “Ei ya!” and walked up with a grin, speaking in a sarcastic tone: “Lord Liu, did you speak to His Majesty about Her Majesty the Empress? What did His Majesty say? Did he agree?”
Liu Changlan felt a bit awkward. Just now in the Zichen Hall, not only did he fail to get Her Majesty to leave, he ended up having a lovely and lively conversation with her. He even forgot that His Majesty was angry with him. If His Majesty hadn’t spoken suddenly, he might’ve chatted with Her Majesty until nightfall.
Wei Jun’an stared at Liu Changlan’s face for a while and asked him: “Lord Liu, why aren’t you saying anything?”
All those rites and laws had long since been forgotten by Liu Changlan—not a single word remained in his mind. Facing Wei Jun’an’s question, he could only bow his head and cup his hands, saying: “Ashamed.”