"'When women participate in governance and attain high positions, it inevitably leads to great chaos?'"

The fading sunset glow spilled onto the stone bricks below the main hall steps of the Meng residence. Meng Tinghui sat in the hall, her expression calm, gazing at Cao Jing seated on the left side of the hall as she softly posed the question.

The light in the hall was dimmer than outside, making Cao Jing's face appear somewhat shadowed. He sat upright on the high stool and said, "Chancellor Xu said exactly this to Minister Ye. These words have spread throughout the Secretariat today, and presumably His Majesty has heard of them as well."

Meng Tinghui lowered her eyelashes and sneered, "Chancellor Xu certainly has extraordinary courage to utter such words within the Council Hall! Though these words mock me, where does he place the retired emperor who governed the state for thirty-nine years? And where does he place Madam Zeng, who once served as Vice Chief of the Privy Council?"

Cao Jing raised an eyebrow slightly. "With your memorial requesting His Majesty to abolish next year's Female Scholar Examination and having female students from various circuits take the regular Scholar Examination alongside men this year, the senior officials naturally believe you disregard court institutions and treat the imperial examinations as child's play. Chancellor Xu merely spoke recklessly in a moment of anger."

"The Female Scholar Examination..." Meng Tinghui's voice grew soft. "Since Madam Zeng retired from politics, how many high-ranking officials in the Two Departments have emerged from the Female Scholar Examination over all these years? What exactly was the purpose of establishing women's schools in various circuits for over twenty years? Although the court opened the Female Scholar Examination, have the female scholars from previous examinations ever enjoyed the same ranks and official positions as regular scholars? The absence of female officials achieving great accomplishments in court over the years isn't due to women's inability, but rather circumstances not permitting. Now that His Majesty has newly ascended the throne, my memorial proposing examination reforms serves both the sovereign and the court—how could it be treating the imperial examinations as child's play?"

Cao Jing, however, smiled. "Everything you've said is correct, Minister Meng, except for one point. Have you forgotten that you yourself came from the Female Scholar Examination? How can you claim no women have achieved great accomplishments in court? Given your current rapid advancement, becoming an Important Official in the Two Departments is only a matter of time..."

She detected the flattery in his words and glanced at him. "His Majesty appointing me as Acting Drafting Official already troubles Chancellor Xu greatly. How dare you recklessly mention Important Officials in the Two Departments? What the senior officials care about isn't really the examination system or court institutions—they simply don't want women to enjoy the same privileges as regular scholars, sharing their power while receiving my favor. Haven't you heard the covert discussions in court about me forming factions? Even you, Cao Jing, are labeled as part of the 'Meng faction' behind your back."

"The Meng faction? The Meng faction is good." Cao Jing snorted softly. "Back when Wang Qi's case remained unresolved, I said that if Minister Meng's predictions proved correct, I would follow your lead from then on. Now you've been steadily promoted and credited with suppressing rebellions. Though the senior officials envy and resent you, they cannot openly criticize you and can only embarrass you through this examination reform matter."

Meng Tinghui remained silent for a long moment before asking him, "You didn't come to the Meng residence today just to tell me what Chancellor Xu said in the Council Hall, did you?"

Cao Jing slowly raised his head, quickly scanning the hall to ensure no Meng household servants were nearby, then soberly lowered his voice. "Minister Meng, now that you oversee personnel evaluations in the Ministry of Personnel, don't you want to take this opportunity to cultivate some supporters?"

Hearing this clearly, she started in surprise.

Seeing her silent, he assumed she acquiesced and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he continued, "Among capital officials of the seventh rank and below, many are my contemporaries. If you give the word, Minister Meng, they would all be willing to follow your lead."

Only then did she understand.Rising from a capital official to a court official typically required years of evaluation and gradual promotion. Among the younger generation in the court, there was hardly another as fortunate as her. Those who had long been constrained by outdated systems and unable to realize their ambitions likely saw how quickly Cao Jing had advanced by following her advice, which was why they were now willing to "follow" her.

Cao Jing added, "Among the new talents in the court today, none hold a higher position or enjoy greater imperial favor than you, Lord Meng. If His Majesty approves the examination reforms this time, all female officials among the new scholars will naturally fall under your influence. Add to that the young talents among the capital officials who are willing to align themselves with you—who in the court would dare underestimate your influence?"

Her hands felt slightly cold as she replied calmly, "His Majesty has only recently ascended the throne and is not one to cling rigidly to old conventions. Why would he deny young court officials the chance to prove themselves? Why should I need to build my own influence?"

Cao Jing chuckled softly. "I cannot fathom His Majesty's thoughts. All I know is that the entrenched power of the conservative old ministers cannot be dismantled overnight. Since the founding of the Great Peace Dynasty, the officials of the Eastern and Western Factions who followed the late emperor and Prince Ping to establish the new capital have aged but still cling to key positions in the two highest offices. Even with His Majesty's ambitious vision for reform, he struggles against the resistance of these old factions. Chancellor Xu, originally a member of the Western Faction, is already dissatisfied with the examination reforms. Without a solid foundation of support, no matter how often His Majesty promotes you, it would be difficult to stand on equal footing with the old ministers in court affairs! If Lord Meng wishes to truly secure a place in the two highest offices in the future, you must rely on the support of the new talents in the court. Only with influence rivaling that of the old factions can you avoid being subordinated by others..."

Though his words bordered on treason, they were undeniably reasonable, and she could not dismiss them.

After a long silence, she asked, "You, too, are a man of considerable talent. Why seek to attach yourself to me? Would it not be better to await His Majesty's recognition and promotion?"

Cao Jing smiled self-deprecatingly. "Success in officialdom also depends on luck. There are many in the court as talented as I, but who among them enjoys His Majesty's favor as deeply as you, Lord Meng? I am not adept at interpreting the emperor's intentions and fear I may never earn his trust. It is better to follow you, Lord Meng, where I may still achieve some of my aspirations."

She could not help but smile faintly.

In the end, even he believed that her current high position was inseparable from her skill in "anticipating and flattering the emperor."

Seeing her continued hesitation, he thought for a moment and added, "Lord Meng, your heart lies in the welfare of the nation and its people—I saw that when the people of Fei County submitted their petition. But you must understand: without influence in the court, how can you truly realize your ambitions? Moreover," he paused, as if struggling to speak, then lowered his voice and continued, "moreover, your current position relies entirely on His Majesty's favor. If one day that favor wanes, what will become of you?"

These words struck directly at her concerns.

She knew that although Cao Jing was shrewd in official matters, he harbored no ill intentions. She would never forget how, despite knowing she was despised by the Eastern Faction ministers, he had come to her aid in her time of crisis.

Meng Tinghui looked up at him and asked, "Whom do you wish to recommend?"

A look of delight crossed Cao Jing's face. He quickly retrieved a folded memorial from his robe, stepped forward, and handed it to her, saying, "Their names are all written here. Lord Meng may evaluate them one by one and recommend those you find suitable."Meng Tinghui opened the memorial and skimmed through it, noting that it listed individuals with decent literary reputations. Her expression softened, and she nodded toward Cao Jing.

Seeing her agreement, Cao Jing smiled and bowed deeply before taking his leave.

A servant entered to escort him out, but she remained seated, the tea on the side table long gone cold.

Her fingers traced the edges of the memorial for a long while.

She let out a soft sigh.

Closing her eyes in thought, she wondered what she had become...

A petty manipulator of power.

Yet having come this far, how could she retreat? Among Cao Jing’s many words, one held truth: she could not forever rely on the Emperor’s favor and protection to oppose the senior ministers.

If she truly wished to stand long by the sovereign’s side, how could she remain a mere pawn forever?

Five days after Meng Tinghui submitted her memorial requesting the abolition of the next year’s Female Scholar Examination, junior officials of seventh rank and below from various departments jointly petitioned in support. Two days later, Shen Zhili led over a dozen female officials in submitting another memorial, urging the Emperor to allow women nationwide to participate in this year’s Metropolitan Examination. The Emperor ordered the Chancellors of the Secretariat to deliberate the matter. During the court discussion, officials like Supervising Secretary Liao Congkuan and Admonishing Remonstrator of the Left Cao Jing publicly endorsed Meng Tinghui’s proposal.

In the following days, memorials flooded the Secretariat and Chancellery. While calls for examination reform grew louder among younger officials, senior ministers insisted the momentum was orchestrated by Meng Tinghui and refused to concede.

Amid the deadlock, the Emperor issued an edict through the Secretariat: the Female Scholar Examination would not be abolished the following year, but women wishing to take this year’s Metropolitan Examination would be permitted. Those who passed would enjoy equal status and official ranks as male candidates. However, no more than a hundred women from each circuit could participate in the prefectural exams.

The senior ministers hailed the Emperor’s wisdom, and Meng Tinghui submitted a memorial of gratitude, ending the dispute. Though the Female Scholar Examination remained, female students gained unprecedented opportunities to compete with men—a significant victory for Meng Tinghui and reform advocates.

To the senior ministers, the cap of a hundred women per circuit was negligible—a drop in the ocean compared to tens of thousands of male candidates vying for a few dozen doctoral seats every three years. They assumed the Emperor’s decree merely placated the ambitious young officials, not a genuine institutional reform, and thus offered no further criticism.

But when the prefectural exams began, the Emperor appointed Right Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs Xu Ting and Acting Drafting Official Meng Tinghui as joint examination administrators for the Ministry of Rites examinations in the capital.

This renewed the senior ministers’ displeasure. How could Meng Tinghui, with her limited experience, be worthy of such a role alongside Xu Ting? Moreover, during the reform debates, Xu Ting had repeatedly criticized her integrity, straining their relationship. How could they possibly collaborate on the examinations?Xu Ting repeatedly submitted memorials to the emperor, refusing to serve as co-chief examiner alongside Meng Tinghui on the grounds of her lack of talent and shallow virtue. The emperor rejected his petitions, stating that since this iteration of the Ministry of Rites examination for the imperial examinations was the first to permit female candidates, and Meng Tinghui—as the top graduate of the Female Scholar Examination—had achievements unmatched by any female official in the court, she was the indisputable choice for acting chief examiner.

Upon hearing this, the young officials in Meng Tinghui’s faction were elated, while the senior officials grew increasingly resentful. Though they could not refute the emperor’s decision, they could not bear to see Meng Tinghui awarded the prestigious title of chief examiner, an honor admired by scholars across the realm.

After the circuit-level examinations concluded, a total of 2,100 candidates were selected, including 132 women. The Ministry of Rites proceeded with preparations for the metropolitan examination in the capital, following the usual protocols, as candidates from various circuits gradually made their way to the capital.

Just as the triennial Ministry of Rites examination was about to commence, Meng Tinghui suddenly dismissed over ten officials of the sixth rank and below from the Pacification Commission and Transport Commission of the Chaoan North Circuit, based on evaluations conducted by the Ministry of Personnel’s assessment bureau. The Ministry of Personnel drafted a memorial in accordance with her proposal and submitted it to the Secretariat for review, but it was vehemently rejected by the senior officials, who had long harbored grievances against her.

Since the founding of the dynasty, no decision ratified by the Six Ministries had ever been jointly rejected by the Chief Administrators and participating officials. This obstruction by the Secretariat of Meng Tinghui’s attempt to dismiss officials in the Chaoan North Circuit immediately stirred up massive waves in the court, which had only recently settled into calm.

Meng Tinghui had previously offended the senior officials of the Eastern Faction due to the affairs involving Wang Qi and Wei Mingxian, and now she had angered the Western Faction elder Xu Ting over the examination reforms. As a result, the influential officials in both the Secretariat and the Chancellery united in targeting her, while the relationship between the senior members of the Eastern and Western Factions gradually improved. This shift transformed the decades-long rivalry between the Eastern and Western Factions into a new conflict between the old and new factions.

·

Noon. The spring sun was blindingly bright.

Meng Tinghui, carrying a stack of ledgers, walked briskly toward the Inner Capital Hall.

Along the way, young clerks from the two departments passed by. Upon seeing her, some bowed respectfully, while others greeted her with “Minister Meng,” all displaying courteous attitudes.

Unable to return their bows with her hands full, she responded with nods and smiles. As she neared the hall, she stopped one person and asked, “Is Chancellor Xu in charge of the hall’s seal today?”

The person winked at her, subtly gestured behind with a tilt of his head, curled his lip, and then walked away.

Understanding the hint, Meng Tinghui waited under the corridor outside the hall.

The gentle spring breeze rustled the delicate willows and rippled the emerald waters, sending fine catkin fluff to brush against her face, tickling intensely.

Basking in the warm sunlight, she gazed at the koi carp in the nearby pond when footsteps sounded behind her. Turning quickly, she saw Xu Ting emerging from the Inner Capital Hall. She stepped forward to meet him, bowing slightly with a faint smile. “Chancellor Xu.”

Upon recognizing her, Xu Ting’s face instantly darkened. He halted but did not respond.

Meng Tinghui looked up, studying him quietly for a moment, then went straight to the point. “In accordance with standard evaluations, thirteen officials from the Military Command and Pacification Commission of the Chaoan North Circuit were deemed unfit for their posts and were slated for transfer. May I ask why the Secretariat rejected the proposal?”

Xu Ting replied coldly, “I am not the only Chancellor of the Secretariat. Why not ask the others?”

She smiled. “Most of these thirteen officials are affiliates of the Eastern Faction court officials, so I can understand Chancellor Gu’s opposition. But why did you, Chancellor Xu, also reject it? Aside from personal grievances, I see no other explanation.”"Personal grudge?" Xu Ting's beard quivered with anger. "I, Xu Ting, have served in court for decades, loyal to the late emperor and assisting the current sovereign. When have I ever let personal grievances interfere with state affairs? You, with a single decree seeking to dismiss thirteen officials from Chao'an—what are your true intentions?"

Meng Tinghui did not respond, merely extending the ledger in her hands forward.

Her hand still holding the ledger, she said softly, "If Your Excellency remains determined to reject my proposal, I shall have no choice but to petition His Majesty regarding Your Excellency's erroneous conduct as Chancellor."

"Preposterous!" Xu Ting knocked the ledger from her hands. "If His Majesty heeds such reckless words, he would be an unworthy ruler!"

Papers scattered across the floor, rustling like layered snow.

When Meng Tinghui clearly heard his final two words, the calm expression on her face instantly collapsed. She raised her eyes to stare at him, lips pressed tightly together, remaining silent for a long while.

Xu Ting, thinking she was intimidated, snorted coldly and turned to leave.

She stood ramrod straight, her gaze fixed on him until his figure completely disappeared from view. Only then did she slowly kneel down, gathering the scattered papers one by one.

Just as she was about to rise, a shadow suddenly fell before her.

A pair of gold-threaded black boots squarely entered her field of vision.

She looked up, recognized the newcomer, and forced a faint smile. "Your Majesty has come from the Privy Council?"

Ying Gua looked down at her, a brow slightly arched. Instead of answering, he asked, "Why are you kneeling here?"

Affecting nonchalance, she slowly gathered her belongings and stood up. "This subject dropped some papers."

He stood with hands clasped behind his back, silently watching her. His gaze was mild, yet his eyes were exceptionally profound.

The sun overhead was glaring, and his scrutiny made her feel completely exposed.

Growing increasingly uncomfortable under his gaze, she noticed two Junior Palace Attendants standing not far away accompanying the imperial procession. Feeling even more improper, she lowered her head. "If Your Majesty has no further instructions, this subject begs leave to retire."

His eyes shifted to the ledger in her hand. With just one glance, he recognized what it was, his expression showing slight understanding. Yet he merely asked, "Is there anything you wish to report?"

A sudden pang struck her heart, but she gritted her teeth slightly and shook her head.

He didn't press her, taking half a step closer until they were nearly touching. In broad daylight, he reached into her sleeve, extracted several papers, and held them between his fingers. "Since the Secretariat rejected it," he said quietly, "why didn't you bring it directly to me for approval?"

Fearful of being observed, she hastily retreated several steps, keeping her eyes downcast. "If I sought Your Majesty's intervention whenever the Secretariat opposes me, what purpose would there be in appointing Chancellors?" She paused, glancing up at him with pursed lips. "Your Majesty need not worry. I can handle this."

Well acquainted with her stubbornness, he gave a slight smile and returned the papers. "During morning court, we discussed filling the vacancy of Vice Censor-in-Chief. You didn't express your opinion then. Do you have anything to say now?"

Without hesitation, she replied, "I believe Liao Congkuan should fill the position."

On the day of the emperor's ascension in the twenty-fifth year of Qiande, the then Vice Censor-in-Chief Xue Peng had been dismissed. Subsequently, Left Assistant Zhou Bi had been appointed to concurrently hold the Vice Censor-in-Chief position. Recently, Zhou Bi had retired due to illness, and court officials had once again turned their attention to this crucial position overseeing the Censorate.The current situation was far different from before—back when the Emperor had demoted Meng Tinghui and three members of the Eastern Faction in a single day, allowing the Western Faction to effortlessly seize the vacancy of Vice Censor-in-Chief. Now, Meng Tinghui was at the peak of her influence, and the Emperor showed clear intent to promote young talents. Thus, the veteran ministers of both Eastern and Western Factions, setting aside old grievances, feared the Emperor might appoint Cao Jing—who had served successively as Upright Speaker of the Left, Attending Censor, Admonishing Remonstrator of the Left, and Remonstrator of the Left, and who was also quite close to Meng Tinghui—to the position of Vice Censor-in-Chief. During the morning court session, the two factions surprisingly refrained from arguing with each other, instead jointly emphasizing that the affairs of the Censorate were no trivial matter and the Emperor should not entrust such a heavy responsibility to someone young.

The veteran ministers were no fools. They knew that if the Eastern and Western Factions fought for their own interests now, the Emperor would have a legitimate reason to appoint someone outside both factions. Yet the Censorate was the voice of remonstrance in the court—how could they let Meng’s faction take advantage?

Speculating on the Emperor’s intentions, the ideal candidate would be one who was not aligned with either the Eastern or Western Factions, nor close to Meng Tinghui’s circle, and who had substantial seniority in the court. Scanning the court, Liao Congkuan—born into a family of Important Officials and having maintained connections with both factions for years—emerged as the best choice. However, during the earlier examination reform, Liao Congkuan had unexpectedly supported Meng Tinghui’s proposal in court, making the veteran ministers wary that he might eventually join Meng’s faction. Thus, when discussing the vacancy of Vice Censor-in-Chief, they deliberately avoided mentioning Liao Congkuan’s name.

She refrained from expressing her opinion in court, mainly to avoid giving the veteran ministers the impression that she had "ulterior motives."

…But in truth, she did indeed have "ulterior motives."

When she had participated in the trial of Wang Qi, she had visited Liao’s residence at night, requesting Liao Congkuan to help her navigate the Censorate’s connections so she could smoothly enter the Censorate Prison to handle the case. At that time, she had promised Liao that if she ever attained a prominent position, she would repay him for his assistance.

Moreover, Liao Congkuan’s unexpected support for her during the examination reform had placed her in his debt once again. Court politics were inherently complex—how could she repeatedly accept favors without reciprocation? Besides, the veteran ministers were clearly unaware of her private dealings with Liao Congkuan over the past two years. If Liao could secure the position of Vice Censor-in-Chief, she hoped to draw him to her side. Once she controlled the remonstrance authority of the Censorate, the influence of the Eastern and Western Factions would inevitably wane. Furthermore, given Liao Congkuan’s family background—with three generations of ancestors serving as chancellors—it was not impossible for him to eventually replace one of the current two chancellors!

Her calculations were meticulous, and she had bided her time, waiting for the Emperor to ask her opinion. Yet, though she believed her plans were flawless, she could not be certain of the Emperor’s true intentions…

After a long silence without him speaking, she couldn’t help but glance at him subtly.

A faint, inscrutable smile played on his lips. "If I appoint Liao Congkuan as Vice Censor-in-Chief, I wonder whether he would feel gratitude toward me, or toward you, Meng Tinghui?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

He couldn’t possibly be unaware of her recent maneuvers; his question was likely a subtle probe. Even though they shared mutual affection, he was, after all, her Emperor, and she was, ultimately… his subject.He gazed at her and slowly added, "I also intend to have Liao Congkuan fill the vacancy of Vice Censor-in-Chief." After a pause, the corners of his lips lifted slightly as he continued, "...Consider this my contribution to helping you, Meng Tinghui, form your faction."

She stood there dumbfounded, staring in disbelief, wondering if she had misheard.

She had thought that after all these events, she had come to understand him somewhat. Yet who could have guessed that from beginning to end, she had never truly grasped even a fraction of his intentions!

"Your Majesty..." she murmured after a long silence, lowering her eyes, unsure of what else to say.

She felt like an ignorant child, willfully playing with fire, unaware that her unscathed journey was only possible because he had been indulging and protecting her all along.

He knew every fear she harbored and understood every desire she held.

From the reform of the imperial examinations until now, in balancing between the veteran ministers of the Eastern and Western Factions and her, his discreet maneuvering had been so masterful that not a single flaw could be found.

These simple words were the highest form of favor an emperor could bestow upon her—how could she fail to recognize it? And how could she not feel ashamed of her earlier petty thoughts?

In the pond beneath the corridor, koi fish swam, splashing tiny droplets of water, while the brilliant sunlight danced on the emerald waves, dazzling the eyes.

He suddenly called out, "Meng Tinghui."

She lifted her head in a daze and looked at him.

He said, "After court tomorrow, I intend to have the Imperial Guards perform mounted drills on the palace training grounds. You shall come to observe and, while you're at it, practice your horsemanship."

Perplexed, she hesitated, "Your Majesty..."

Without waiting for her question, he continued, "I have just discussed with the Privy Council and decided that this year’s mounted archery ceremony will be held after the release of the jinshi examination results. Given your current position, surely you do not wish to embarrass yourself again?"

Her face flushed crimson instantly as she recalled that the mounted archery ceremony following the new emperor’s ascension would take place this year, and she remembered the incident back then at the North Garden... Reluctantly, she nodded and said, "I shall obey Your Majesty’s wishes."

Just when she thought he would leave, he suddenly leaned in, his gaze probing deep into her eyes, his voice slightly hoarse as he asked, "I have been too busy lately to summon you for a private audience. Have you harbored even the slightest resentment in your heart?"