Lou Xiaowu hung her head dejectedly. "The general used to treat me very well, but lately he hasn't been willing to pay much attention to me. I'm really upset."
An Jiu looked at her with satisfaction. "You've made the right decision."
"What?" Lou Xiaowu looked at her in confusion.
"I mean, no one is better at giving advice than me," An Jiu said confidently. "Clearly, your choice was very wise."
Lou Xiaowu brightened. "Right? Right?"
The two found a sunny spot to sit down, and Lou Xiaowu began chattering away about General Ling's recent changes.
"After clearing his name, he doesn't seem happy at all," Lou Xiaowu said, having pondered this the entire way here but still unable to figure it out.
After listening, An Jiu replied, "It's simple. Although he's cleared his name now, his family members died unjustly. The mastermind behind their deaths was the current emperor's father, and now he has to serve that same emperor. No one would be happy in that situation."
"Family vengeance," Lou Xiaowu grasped it immediately and nodded, feeling even more convinced of An Jiu's wisdom. "I understand that part now. But why did he treat me well before and not now? That doesn't have anything to do with family vengeance, does it?"
"This..." An Jiu thought carefully. "Because he was bored before, and now he's not."
Lou Xiaowu widened her almond-shaped eyes. "So that's what he was thinking!"
An Jiu glanced at her sideways. "Why are you angry? After all, he was good to you before—you should be grateful. No one is obligated to treat you well."
"What you say... makes sense, but I'm still angry," Lou Xiaowu tilted her head and asked, "What if Uncle Chu stops treating you well in the future? Would you be angry?"
An Jiu fell silent for a moment before asking, "Why would he stop treating me well?"
"Ah, so you mean I deserve to be disliked?" Lou Xiaowu puffed up her cheeks angrily. "I'm still just as clever as ever!"
"If he stops treating me well," An Jiu felt a dull ache in her chest at the thought, "I'll take him down with me. Or he shouldn’t have been nice to me in the first place. Once he’s been kind, he can’t just decide to dislike me on a whim."
"You're right! I'll go take him down with me!" Lou Xiaowu scrambled to her feet and dashed off.
An Jiu crossed her arms and looked up at the old pear tree in the courtyard, lost in thought: Could Chu Dingjiang really come to dislike me one day? Aside from taking advantage of Mei Jiu’s good looks, I don’t have many other redeeming qualities... Hmm, that really might be possible!
Suddenly, she was struck by an unprecedented sense of crisis. The matter of improving her personal charm had become urgent.
Blood Fiend walked over and saw An Jiu staring blankly at the sky. After standing there for a while, he asked, "An Jiu, are we still going to Zhending Prefecture or not?"
"We are," An Jiu snapped out of her thoughts.
Bianjing, the Imperial Palace.
The Grand Secretariat was swamped with work. Prime Minister Hua finished reviewing an imperial memorial and placed it on the stack at the corner of the desk before picking up another one.
After quickly scanning its contents, he hovered his brush over the paper for a long moment but ultimately made no remarks, setting it aside instead.
Memorials submitted from the provinces first went through the Grand Secretariat, where the ministers would draft their opinions. The ministers would write their proposed solutions on the memorials before presenting them to the emperor for review. If the emperor had no objections, these would become the final decisions. However, some memorials could not be directly handled by the ministers and were instead placed directly on the imperial desk.The unapproved memorial that Prime Minister Hua had not endorsed was the one submitted by Wu Lingyuan, tucked inconspicuously among a stack from Hejian Prefecture.
The request from Hexi County to establish a self-defense militia of two thousand was not excessive—the Song Dynasty had always maintained bloated military forces, often numbering in the tens of thousands, so two thousand was a trivial matter. However, Wu Lingyuan was a protégé of Hua Rongtian. Prime Minister Hua deliberately avoided handling it directly to avoid suspicion, lest the Emperor think the Hua Clan was plotting something along the border.
Fortunately, the memorial had fallen into his hands. If it had been seen by political opponents, it would likely have been rejected outright or sparked another round of disputes.
After all the ministers had dealt with the day's affairs, the eunuchs exchanged the processed memorials to ensure each grand councilor had reviewed them. If there were no objections, they would sign in agreement at the end. If there were differing opinions, the matter would be held for discussion to reach a consensus before being reprocessed. If no agreement could be reached, the Emperor would have to make the final decision.
By noon, the grand councilors gathered to deliberate.
Half an hour before the meeting, Prime Minister Hua quietly slipped the memorial from Hexi County into the pile.
Given the overwhelming volume of daily affairs, when anyone saw it, they assumed they had missed it earlier or that it had just reached their turn.
One grand councilor flipped through the memorial and asked in confusion, "Hexi County wants to establish a private militia?"
Prime Minister Hua frowned as if he had never seen it before. "How large a militia?"
"Two thousand," the councilor replied.
Everyone present knew that the newly appointed magistrate of Hexi County had some connection to the Hua Clan, but no one could suspect the clan of treason over a mere two thousand men.
The room fell silent as the memorial was passed around for review.
"Let’s submit this memorial for the Emperor’s decision," Prime Minister Hua suggested.
No one objected.
If Wu Lingyuan hadn’t been so closely tied to the Hua Clan, this minor matter could have been handled by the cabinet. But now, it was best not to interfere—offending the Prime Minister or drawing the Emperor’s displeasure over border defense, a matter of utmost importance, was unwise. Another reason the councilors hesitated to speak was the alarming content of Wu Lingyuan’s memorial: Hexi County had barely over four hundred households, with a total population under three thousand, not even qualifying as a lower-tier county. As for the militia, even if women were conscripted, they likely couldn’t muster two thousand.
In contrast, prosperous southern counties typically had around six thousand households, while even lower-tier counties had nearly a thousand.
Once the meeting concluded, subordinate officials compiled all the memorials for submission, and the cabinet finally had a moment to relax.
Prime Minister Hua brewed a pot of tea himself, opened the window, and sat in a round-backed chair to admire the lush banana trees outside.
It was just past noon, and the sky was overcast.
Soon, raindrops pattered on the banana leaves, creating a rhythmic sound, and the stifling air seemed to cool slightly.
After finishing a cup of tea, Prime Minister Hua returned to his desk and resumed his work.
Only when dusk approached did he finally glance outside and rise to leave.
A eunuch, surprised to see him, hurried over with an umbrella. "Prime Minister, you’re leaving early today?"
Prime Minister Hua smiled. "I’m going home to see my grandson."
With that, he took the umbrella and left on his own.
He walked slowly, passing through a palace gate, where he happened to meet Hua Rongtian emerging from the Privy Council.
"Father," Hua Rongtian said, quickening his steps.
Prime Minister Hua nodded.
Father and son stood in silence, waiting for the carriage, as if the world held nothing but the sound of rain.
"Rongtian, I’m growing old," Prime Minister Hua suddenly said.Hua Rongtian turned his head to look at his father. Prime Minister Hua was nearing fifty, and though he had once maintained himself well, appearing as robust as a man in his prime, these past few years had increasingly shown signs of aging.
"You must work harder," Prime Minister Hua said, gazing at him. "The future of the Hua Clan rests on you."
Hua Rongtian understood. The Emperor would not allow father and son to dominate the cabinet. When the Emperor was still a prince, Hua Rongtian had secretly supported him, earning deep favor now. Though his official rank hadn’t risen much, he was entrusted with critical responsibilities. If the cabinet were to be reorganized, Hua Rongtian would undoubtedly be a strong contender for the next chief minister. Yet, he hadn’t even entered the cabinet yet—because Prime Minister Hua still held his position.
Hua Rongtian realized his father was contemplating retirement. "The Emperor currently relies heavily on you, Father. Why would you—"
"The court is short on manpower. As long as I am useful, the Emperor will not discard me." But in truth, he was not a confidant, and the barriers between them were many.
Prime Minister Hua left the latter unsaid, leaning in instead to whisper, "You and I are different."
No matter how capable the old ministers of the previous reign were, they could never compare to the trusted aides from the Emperor’s princely days. Moreover, the Emperor did not believe Hua Rongtian’s abilities fell short of Prime Minister Hua’s—at most, he lacked some experience. When the late Emperor was still the Crown Prince, Prime Minister Hua had already been by his side, earning deep trust. But the late Emperor was deeply suspicious. Coupled with the Hua Clan’s formidable influence, which was cause for concern, Prime Minister Hua gradually lost favor. Yet even so, until the late Emperor’s death, he remained firmly seated as the chief minister.
Prime Minister Hua had seen clearly: that pinnacle was a height he would only touch once in his lifetime. But the Hua Clan was different—the Hua Clan still had Hua Rongtian.
Now was a time of national crisis. If Hua Rongtian could seize this opportunity to firmly secure a place in the Emperor’s favor, even if his seniority was still shallow and he could barely squeeze into the cabinet, he would have no trouble ascending to the position second only to the Emperor in the future. Conversely, if Prime Minister Hua continued to block the cabinet without stepping aside, while others surged forward, Hua Rongtian’s ability to aid the Emperor would be limited by his position, and the advantage of being an "old ally" would wane.
This opportunity would come only once.
A carriage arrived, and Hua Rongtian helped his father board.
In the twilight, the rain poured heavily, mirroring Prime Minister Hua’s mood. Sometimes, seeing too clearly was a kind of agony. Had he been blind to his circumstances, he might have stubbornly clung to his post for another twenty years. But now, before he had even moved, he could already see the end. Even more tragic was that though his body had reached this point, his heart had not yet given up.
Prime Minister Hua was filled with resentment. The late Emperor had been incompetent, and much of his energy had been spent maneuvering around him. His true ambitions had never been realized, yet his stage had already closed. For the sake of his family and his son, retirement was the best path.
He couldn’t help but wonder: what if he had chosen to support the Second Prince back then?
The answer was impossible. Even given ten chances to start over, he would still have chosen neutrality. Because his alignment would have meant the entire family’s alignment. Fantasizing about preserving the clan through such means would only end in disaster. If the late Emperor had sought to eradicate powerful factions, how could the new Emperor tolerate them?
The only way was to let the late Emperor drive the Hua Clan to the brink, then rely on Hua Rongtian’s support for the Second Prince to resurrect the clan.
This wasn’t a matter of foresight—it was that he had never had a choice to begin with.Family can sometimes be a stepping stone to success, and other times, a burden as heavy as a mountain.
So be it! Rather than struggling in vain with resentment, it's better to return home and raise my grandson, passing on all my unfulfilled ambitions to him. Perhaps one day, success will finally be achieved.
Amid the rain, the rumbling sound of carriage wheels rolling over stone slabs was accompanied by Prime Minister Hua's indistinct voice, "Have more children."
"Your son will strive to do so," Hua Rongtian replied solemnly. (To be continued...)
PS: The latter part about Prime Minister Hua might seem dull to some readers, but Sleeve Paper finds it amusing. There's a way for jesters to live their lives, but not everyone in the book can be a jester. After all, there are reliable people like Prime Minister Hua and Hua Rongtian, and Sleeve Paper is also a serious person at heart.
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