Qiao Chu

In the Crown Prince's palace, discussions on governance were underway, while the Third Prince was rummaging through the Royal Library.

The Third Prince directed his attendants to haul out stacks of books, nearly filling the carriage until there was no room for him to sit. He simply perched outside and took the reins himself.

"Your Highness," the library officials dared not intervene but cautiously suggested, "allow us to prepare a carriage to deliver these for you."

The Third Prince waved them off. "Don't touch my books. I know how you are—things will go missing or be overlooked." Before they could respond, his pale face twisted with malice. "And next time anyone dares ask me for books, don't blame me for forgetting my manners!"

The officials sighed helplessly. "Your Highness, you're practically emptying the library."

The Third Prince sneered. "So what if I am? Father gave the entire empire to the Crown Prince—what's a mere library to me?"

Such words—the officials had no reply, watching helplessly as the Third Prince drove off in a cloud of dust.

The Third Prince was known for his erratic and insolent behavior toward the Crown Prince, but with the Imperial Concubine backing him and the Emperor turning a blind eye, any official who dared impeach him faced retaliation from the Zhao Family—either demotion or imprisonment. In recent years, officials had learned to keep their eyes and mouths shut.

The Yang Family, entrenched in key court positions, was no less formidable.

When these two factions clashed, it was the bystanders who suffered.

Take Minister Liang, for example.

Though it was just a splash of tea on his shoulder, nothing remained secret in the court for long—news spread like the wind.

The Emperor dousing him with tea was ultimately a result of the power struggle between the Zhao and Yang Families.

"Ah," one official interjected, "I heard it was because of Chu Ling's daughter—"

The incident between Chu Ling's daughter and Miss Liang had reached the officials through their families, but—

"That's trivial," they dismissed with a wave.

Whether it was Chu Ling or his daughter, they were insignificant figures. A squabble between two young ladies was a minor affair. Behind Minister Liang's ordeal lay the greater conflict involving the Yang and Zhao Families, as well as the Crown Prince and the Third Prince.

Chu Ling was already a forgotten man.

As for his daughter, she was but a speck of dust in the capital.

Brushing aside such trivialities, the officials resumed their hushed discussions about the court's major players and their weighty affairs.

"What is the Third Prince planning with this literary gathering?"

"Is he rallying scholars to build momentum?"

"That would truly stir up a storm."

...

...

The Third Prince drove the carriage himself, the coachman seated beside him as they sped out of the Imperial City.

"Your Highness," the taciturn coachman murmured, "His Lordship asks why His Majesty lost his temper and if anything needs to be done."

There were no secrets in the Imperial City, and with the Imperial Concubine at the Emperor's side, His Majesty had even fewer. No sooner had the Emperor thrown a fit than the Imperial Concubine's brother learned of it.

The Third Prince's face showed none of his earlier frenzy, a faint smile playing on his lips. "No need. Tell His Lordship I provoked the Emperor deliberately—I repeated those insolent memorials Chu Ling submitted years ago."

The coachman looked puzzled. "Does Your Highness dislike this Chu Ling?"

The Third Prince laughed scornfully. "What is he that I should care? Mother said Chu Ling is on his deathbed. I'm just hastening his end. We need to secure Luocheng."

Understanding dawned on the coachman. "Your Highness, rest assured. His Lordship is aware and has already sent men. Whether Chu Ling dies or not, we'll have our people in place.""That's good then. Tell Uncle not to bother with these petty people and trivial matters," the Third Prince said, smoothing his wind-tossed hair with a sinister gleam in his eyes. "What comes next is our main event."

With that, he viciously cracked his whip, sending his horse charging forward like mad.

The guards were long accustomed to this, swiftly clearing the streets and ordering the crowd to make way. The commoners along the roadside had also grown used to it, scattering as they watched the Third Prince fly past with his robes and hair whipping wildly.

Matters between the imperial father and sons were family affairs behind closed doors. The Imperial City remained tranquil on this spring afternoon.

In a duty room at the Western Garden, after a long wait and lengthy conversation, Deng Yi finally handed over a piece of paper.

The official took it, squinting as he held it up to examine. It appeared to be a pawn ticket, but was actually a voucher for retrieving valuables from a pawnshop.

"Deng Yi, I'm taking quite a risk accepting this money from you," he said. "But you've offended both the Yang Family and the Zhao Family, and now you've left evidence of misconduct in your duties. Zhou Weiqing naturally wants to crush you thoroughly."

Deng Yi nodded. "I understand. The risk never lies in offering money, but in accepting it. I will remember your grace, sir."

The official laughed. "See? You know exactly how to speak and act properly. So why must you offend them?"

Deng Yi smiled faintly. "I never intended to offend anyone. I've done everything expected of me within my capabilities. If they remain unsatisfied, there's nothing more I can do."

What he meant by "within my capabilities" was simply his unwillingness to sell his soul and loyalty. The official understood this well. With the Zhao and Yang Families locked in covert struggles and faction-building, while most court officials had chosen sides, some preferred to remain neutral, merely seeking official positions to live quiet lives.

"Then you'll have to endure some hardship," the official said, tossing an Official Certificate onto the table. "You could have sat comfortably in the Ministry of the Guards, but now you can only guard the palace gates. This is the most respectable post I could secure for you - still better than patrolling the city with the imperial guards."

Deng Yi took the certificate and bowed with clasped hands. "Thank you for your righteousness, sir."

The official shook the pawn ticket in his hand and laughed heartily. "Well said, well said! No wonder everyone says dealing with you, Deng Yi, is always straightforward."

To receive such substantial bribes and still be called righteous - excellent! This kind of righteousness he wouldn't mind experiencing more often.

Deng Yi bowed and took his leave, walking back through the Imperial City. Occasionally, officials who recognized him would deliberately turn away, pretending not to see him.

Vice Commandant of the Guards Deng Yi had spent fortunes on gifts to secure an official post in the capital, yet within less than a year, he had been dismissed.

The man was truly incompetent and troublesome.

"Second Master, Second Master!" someone called softly from the corner by the palace gates.

Deng Yi saw his family servant and hurried over. "What is it? Is something wrong at home?"

Wherever Deng Yi went, he brought his family along - his arrival in the capital was no exception. His household was simple: just his blind elderly mother and this one servant.

The servant said plaintively, "The old mistress wants to eat, but we have no rice at home, and no money either." He gave Deng Yi a reproachful look. "We just had plenty of money, Second Master. Did you throw it away again?"

Deng Yi chuckled, removing his worn cloak. "Perfect timing with the warmer weather. Take this to pawn, then buy rice for dinner."

The servant accepted it with resigned familiarity, shaking his head and muttering as he hugged the garment and scurried off. Food was urgent business - better to pawn it quickly for rice.Nearby officials overheard the conversation between the master and servant, and the news quickly spread, drawing even more contemptuous gazes from those around.

Deng Yi paid no mind, walking calmly out of the palace gates in his thin robe. He glanced toward the direction of the Ministry of the Guards, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.

He had been building connections while presenting gifts along the way, using these connections to climb higher. As long as he could set foot on the main road of the capital, he would surely reach the heavens.

What did it matter if he was an insignificant figure, as unnoticeable as dust? Given the chance, even dust could blot out the sky and sun.