Having been compelled to act against his will, Gu Tingye remained inwardly displeased. Minglan had no choice but to offer comforting words and divert him with amusing anecdotes. Since she wasn't particularly skilled at telling jokes, she resorted to revealing embarrassing childhood stories of her own to cheer him up. They talked until late into the night when dew began to form, and consequently, Minglan overslept the next day. Before she could wake naturally, a palace envoy arrived to deliver an imperial decree.
Danju rushed in frantically, startling Minglan awake. She scrambled out of bed to dress and adorn herself, fearing that oversleeping would cause her to miss receiving the decree and instantly become the laughingstock of the entire capital. Fortunately, Hao Guanshi in the outer courtyard was adept at handling such situations. With fine tea, pastries, and endless flattery, he managed to detain the decree-bearing envoy for a while, allowing Minglan enough time to don her pearl crown and ceremonial robes to receive the decree.
The eunuch delivering the message brought an imperial edict from the Empress. Still somewhat groggy, Minglan could only catch phrases like "gentle and pure," "serene and graceful," "filial and respectful," and "simple and elegant" from the flowery prose, along with mentions of various rewards.
After the proclamation, Minglan repeatedly expressed gratitude and kowtowed to acknowledge the imperial favor. Without daring to glance at the boxes draped with bright yellow brocade, she first discreetly offered a bribe—a plain silk pouch containing a pair of heavy, gold-rimded amber bracelets she had hastily grabbed. She had never worn them, considering them gaudy and vulgar.
The eunuch, around thirty years old with a honest, stout appearance, skillfully loosened the pouch for a peek. A faint glimmer of satisfaction flashed in his eyes as he bowed unobtrusively. "You are too kind, madam. This is hardly necessary."
"It's just a trifle. I thought it rather lovely—please do not disdain it," Minglan replied with an embarrassed smile. This being her first direct interaction with a eunuch, she was doubly cautious with her words.
"Please, no formalities, madam. 'Your Excellency' is too grand for someone like me. Just call me 'Xiao Tong,'" the eunuch finally smiled, tucking the pouch into his sleeve.
Minglan felt relieved, knowing she hadn't addressed him incorrectly—some eunuchs disliked being called "gonggong."
Her smile warmed further. "You've troubled yourself to come so early, Tong-daren. Have you breakfasted? If you don't mind, please stay and share a simple meal. We've newly received rice from the south, cooked into a soft congee, served with smoked roe deer meat and pickled vegetables from the mountains a few days ago—quite palatable. Would you care for some?The young, dignified noblewoman smiled genially, her tone kind and gentle, without a trace of sycophancy. She spoke as if greeting a dear relative, offering sincere hospitality with natural warmth.
The eunuch, surnamed Tong, felt a surge of goodwill and beamed. "I would love to impose, but I must hurry back to the palace to report. Perhaps another time. Her Majesty often speaks highly of you, madam."
Minglan blushed in modesty. "Her Majesty flatters me undeservedly; I am unworthy. How can I accept such generous rewards without having rendered any service?"
After all the flattery, this was the crucial point.It wasn't that she enjoyed speaking ill of her own household, but in the two or three months since her marriage, she had only minded her own business without extending charity to the poor. She had never offered incense or donated money to pray for national peace and prosperity, nor had she shown enthusiasm for social events in noblewomen's circles. In her leisure time, she either slept or pored over account books. Aside from muttering a few words like "boundless heavenly grace" when receiving palace rewards, she had never spared a thought for the Emperor and Empress or their family.
Given her lack of ambition and generally idle disposition, such a sudden and substantial reward from the heavens naturally made her suspicious.
Eunuch Tong, a man of sharp perception, smiled meaningfully. "Madam need not be alarmed. Though you live in seclusion, your wisdom is widely known. Just yesterday, His Majesty remarked that Commander Gu handles affairs with such steadiness and competence, embodying the qualities of a distinguished minister—doubtless owing to your virtue in maintaining household harmony, allowing him to focus wholeheartedly on royal duties."
Minglan gazed at Eunuch Tong with admiration. Such eloquently crafted words—her, a recluse, being famed for wisdom?! It was as credible as claiming NATO was a peacekeeping organization.
After seeing the decree-proclaiming procession off, Minglan paced back to her room, lost in thought. She instructed Danju to open the gilded aloeswood chests of rewards. First were ten bolts each of four-colored tribute satin: rosy dawn, water-blue, sky-azure, and twilight haze, all shimmering with radiant, exquisite beauty.
Danju checked the items, turning back cheerfully. "These colors are so vibrant, and the patterns are lovely. Once this hot weather passes, we can have the master tailors at Brocade Weaving Pavilion make new dresses for you. When you wear them to visit Old Madam, she'll surely be delighted."
In her excitement, she slipped back into the old form of address.
Next was a white jade Ruyi scepter inlaid with gold threads and kingfisher feathers, adorned with three blessings of longevity and celebration. It felt smooth and flawless to the touch. These two items were impressive enough, but the most staggering were the sixteen matching jade bowls of uniform aqua-green hue, seemingly carved from a single piece of jadeite. Each bowl, merely three inches wide, was intricately engraved with scenes of flowers, birds, fishermen, woodcutters, farmers, and weavers. Cradled in the palm, they resembled pools of cool emerald water, dazzling and mesmerizing. Such rare treasures were likely worth several cities.
Xiaotao stared wide-eyed, keeping a safe distance from the jade bowls, terrified that any accidental chip or crack would cost more than she could repay even if sold eighteen times over. She only dared to watch from ten paces away, swallowing nervously.
"Useless girl!" Danju shot her a fierce glare, then tremblingly and carefully placed each jade bowl into a padded velvet box lined with silk cotton. Only then did she relax, instructing Bisi and Qinsang to store the satin in the warehouse while she personally locked the jade Ruyi and bowls in the wall cabinet of Minglan's inner chamber.
Minglan felt as restless as a cat scratching at her heart.
If a commander suddenly supplied ammunition and equipment to a miscellaneous corps for no reason, nine times out of ten, it was to trick them into waiting for an assembly call. If a boss gave unwarranted benefits, it was to make you work harder. If a man offered unearned favors, it was mostly because he'd done something wrong behind your back.
But what about the royal family? Or perhaps there was a reason—one she simply didn't know.
"Xiaotao!" She abruptly stood up, raising her voice. "Go invite Gongsun Xiansheng."
...
At this hour, she wondered if Gongsun Baishi would be available.After giving up on the imperial examinations, he had resolved to become a recluse who, while living in the countryside, still concerned himself with court affairs. As a recluse, he naturally had to carry himself with the demeanor of one—for instance, sleeping until the sun was high in the sky, reading while half-reclining, reciting poetry with disheveled hair, and usually writing in the middle of the night. He admired renowned scholars of the Wei and Jin dynasties like Ji Kang, but unfortunately, he lacked the courage to truly strip naked and run wild or sing on someone’s grave. At most, he would roll up his sleeves and practice wild cursive calligraphy on the whitewashed wall of his small courtyard.
Restricted by the rigid norms of propriety, he was deeply pained that he couldn’t better express his admiration for his idols through practical actions.
When Gu Tingye heard Minglan’s "profound understanding" of Gongsun Baishi, he laughed so hard he couldn’t straighten his back, feeling a strong resonance with her perspective. In his view, Gongsun Baishi was like Lord Ye who professed to love dragons.
Those Wei and Jin scholars were wildly unrestrained and uninhibited, often getting drunk and spouting nonsense every few days. In contrast, Gongsun Baishi appeared casual and carefree but was actually restrained and cautious, always guarded around others and speaking only half of what he thought.
To ensure the efficiency of the invitation, Minglan sent the strong and capable Xiaotao. After some thought, considering that she was seeking advice this time, it seemed more appropriate to be polite, so she also asked Ruomei, who revered cultural workers, to accompany her.
In the side flower hall, she placed two basins of ice and set up a cord-pulled swaying curtain. The table was arranged with tea, snacks, and fruits chilled in well water. Minglan sat quietly and waited. About half an hour later, Gongsun Baishi strolled over leisurely, preceded by Xiaotao, who strode ahead with a displeased expression, and followed by Ruomei, who walked respectfully step by step.
The side flower hall was built by the water, enclosed by lattice windows. After the host and guest exchanged greetings, they sat in round-backed chairs at opposite ends of a long table, separated by its length. Minglan dismissed all attendants. Danju responded by exiting and keeping idle servants and maids at a distance of twenty paces. Through the wide-open lattice windows on all sides, outsiders could only see the two sitting far apart, with the sounds of water and wind, but could not hear what was being said inside.
She had pondered this idea for a long time, and it was highly praised by Gu Tingye.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Minglan got straight to the point: "Sir, are you aware that this morning, someone from the palace came to bestow rewards?"
Gongsun Baishi waved his folding fan leisurely: "Your attendant has already informed me. Congratulations, Madam, congratulations."
Clutching her handkerchief, Minglan set aside her pride and said urgently, "It shouldn’t be because of me—it’s probably due to the Commander. But I can’t figure out the exact reason? I’ve come specifically to seek your advice."
Gongsun Baishi’s wrinkled face twisted into a joyful mess, and he waved his fan even more vigorously: "Madam, you overthink. This is undoubtedly the vast grace of the emperor, your esteemed reputation has reached the heavens, a testament to your profound blessings." Though he said this, his eyes clearly held a mocking glint.
Minglan was rebuffed twice in a row. She bit her lip, forcefully suppressing the urge to scratch the old man’s face, though his wrinkled visage was already crisscrossed with lines.
High-intelligence talents, abbreviated as "experts," are a rare and peculiar breed with a common affliction: they love to feign profundity. Before honestly answering a question, they must thoroughly toy with your anticipation. One wonders how much self-control Emperor Liu Bei had to exercise to resist slapping that fan-waving fellow to death back in the day.After gathering her thoughts and taking two deep breaths, Minglan asked solemnly, "Several uncles and brothers acted carelessly and committed offenses without explanation. The Commander has already pleaded with His Majesty for leniency. May I ask, sir, do you approve of this?"
"...An excellent question, Madam." Gongsun Baishi finally stopped jesting, slowly closing his folding fan. "These past days, I have repeatedly urged Zhonghuai to seek mercy from His Majesty. It was only the day before yesterday that he finally agreed."
Minglan straightened her expression and rose formally. "The matters weighing on the Commander and yourself must be of great importance. This is hardly something a woman like me should inquire about. However, the situation has now extended to the inner household. Tomorrow I must enter the palace to express gratitude for imperial favors, and I fear misspeaking in the future. I earnestly beg for your guidance." Having said this, she made a deep curtsy toward Gongsun Baishi.
Gongsun Baishi immediately stood up, slightly turning to avoid receiving the full gesture, and bowed respectfully with clasped hands. "You humble yourself unduly, Madam. Your grace, humility, and excellent household management are truly Zhonghuai's blessing. Whatever questions you may have, this old man will speak without reservation."
During these days, he had observed her discreetly and discovered she was an extremely disciplined woman. Though clearly trusted and cherished, she never overstepped her bounds—never asking even one extra question about court affairs (actually, she was just lazy).
Gu Tingye held significant power, yet despite the constant stream of visitors currying favor daily, she never exploited authority for gain or acted arrogantly. She treated everyone politely and humbly (she simply lacked the courage to accept bribes).
After they sat down again, Minglan pondered for a moment, realizing that framing questions was itself challenging. Where should she begin?
"Why did you advise the Commander to plead for the Marquis' household?" This seemed like a good starting point.
Gongsun Baishi stroked his sparse beard and said slowly, "What kind of person does Madam believe the current Emperor to be?"
The question and answer were completely mismatched. Minglan tightened her grip on the handkerchief again. Very well, one must grow accustomed to the thought patterns of highly intelligent individuals.
"It's often said that as subjects, we should not presume to guess the Emperor's intentions. This is only half true." Gongsun Baishi didn't expect Minglan to answer anyway. He slightly raised his head to gaze at the ceiling beams. "Without speculating on the divine will, how can matters be handled properly?" Among officials and generals of similar background and knowledge, those who interpret the will of the divine well and accurately can rise swiftly through the ranks."
Minglan turned to look at Gongsun Baishi. Actually, the old man wasn't even fifty yet this year, but a lifetime of traveling and hardships had weathered his face. His slightly rough skin was covered with wrinkles, making him appear as old as sixty, yet his eyes remained sharp, capable, and brilliant.
"Zhonghuai is not yet thirty. First, he is not the Emperor's relative by marriage; second, he is not an old retainer from the palace days; third, he is not a veteran general or powerful eunuch. Yet he commands heavy troops and holds high office. What is his basis for this? Duan Chengqian, Geng Jiechuan, Zhong Dayou, Liu Zhengjie... and Shen Congxing—they've followed the Emperor since the hidden palace days, through over a decade of hardships. Which of them hasn't protected the Emperor with their lives? Which isn't utterly loyal?"
Minglan smiled wryly. "Even by seniority, the Commander shouldn't be at the forefront."Gongsun Baishi leveled his gaze, nodding approvingly at Minglan before continuing, "When His Majesty first ascended the throne, to pacify the military, he treated several veteran generals with great courtesy, frequently bestowing honors upon them. Thus, those from the former princely establishment dared not act. I advised Zhonghuai at the time: 'A new emperor's reign will inevitably require military campaigns. Either you remain docile, relying on His Majesty's remembrance of past affections to grant you an official post for a peaceful life, or you take a bold gamble to secure a place in His Majesty's esteem.'"
"He naturally chose the latter," Minglan said without surprise.
"Zhonghuai is resolute and decisive, swift and stern. Risking dismissal, he enforced strict discipline, beheading many and drilling his troops intensively in the first few months. Though the Emperor reprimanded him several times, such actions aligned perfectly with His Majesty's intentions." Gongsun Baishi chuckled, stroking his beard with pride. "Later, as expected, turmoil arose. When war broke out, other commanders either hesitated, delayed with excuses, or lacked the ability to mobilize their troops swiftly and effectively. Only Zhonghuai's army followed orders impeccably, marching south without delay. At the time, there were ill-intentioned individuals in the ranks who secretly obstructed maneuvers and evaded military commands. On the battlefield, where life and death hang in the balance, how could there be any room for error? Zhonghuai immediately executed half of them and imprisoned the rest—among them were an old subordinate of General Gan and a clansman's nephew."
Minglan let out a soft gasp, unable to conceal her astonishment.
"What did it matter if he was impeached? What did it matter if he incurred hatred? In worldly affairs, one merit often overshadows a hundred flaws! The Emperor quelled the Jing-Tan rebellion and secured the throne, thus becoming a wise sovereign celebrated by all officials; Zhonghuai won the battle, thus claiming the foremost merit in stabilizing the realm! Shen, Duan, Geng Liu, Zhong, and others could only concede wholeheartedly!" Gongsun Baishi's eyes blazed, his tone fervent, as if brimming with boundless valor.
Minglan deeply admired Gu Tingye's courage and resolve, though she was more inclined to ask, "What does this long, rambling story have to do with my original question?" But esteemed figures often had short tempers, and fearing he might storm off, she restrained herself from reminding him that their conversation had strayed far from the topic.
"Yet this was an unorthodox strategy, a risky move. However, unorthodox tactics are not the norm, and risks cannot be taken frequently." Gongsun Baishi leaned on his chair back, catching his breath as he slowly sat down. "Ultimately, Zhonghuai must proceed step by step. Gradually build connections, accumulate merits steadily. Offending too many people and acting too radically is not beneficial in the long run."
Minglan nodded habitually. ...Wait, this sounded familiar—hadn't she encountered it somewhere before? A famed general who loved drinking black tea had said something similar.
Lost in thought, she inadvertently murmured aloud, "...The so-called path to certain victory is to amass more troops than the enemy, make fewer mistakes, and then fight well. Winning against odds with fewer forces or weaker strength is not the conventional way of warfare—it is not the proper path."
Hearing this, Gongsun Baishi chuckled in mild surprise. "Madam speaks amusingly, but though the words are plain, the reasoning is sound. That is precisely the truth."
Minglan gave a dry laugh. She had nearly forgotten the professional legal texts from her previous life, yet she remembered this. The Party and state's years of cultivation were less memorable than a novel full of handsome men—how shameful, how shameful."Zhonghuai is merely a newly risen military officer, granted a second-rank position—no honorary titles, no additional enfeoffments, no foundational backing. Though trusted by the Emperor, he still has a host of Ministers, Grand Secretaries, and Academicians above him who can dictate and meddle... To secure his footing, let alone ascend further, is no easy task." The aged, hoarse sigh swayed through the room.
Minglan remained silent. She hadn’t realized his path to establishing himself had been so arduous.
"Then, let’s return to our original topic—what kind of ruler is His Majesty, truly?"
Gongsun Baishi lifted his teacup, gently skimming off the tea leaves, took a few sips to moisten his throat, and continued, "The Emperor was enfeoffed in his teens, long residing at the Shu border. From the military to the court to the inner palace, he had no support whatsoever. It must be said that the few advisors in his princely establishment were quite capable. Since returning to the capital, His Majesty’s actions have been meticulously precise, justified at every turn."
Minglan knew of this; she had overheard fragments from her father and brothers and chimed in, "This justification—it’s the principle of 'filial piety,' isn’t it?"
"Exactly." Gongsun Baishi smiled, inwardly noting that she truly came from a scholarly family, with exceptional upbringing. "The Emperor slept on a pallet by the Late Emperor’s bedside for half a month, attending to his medicine and meals—this gave him the moral authority to face civil and military officials. The Emperor observed mourning for the Late Emperor, refraining from selecting consorts for three years, wearing plain clothes and eating simple fare—this allowed him to harshly punish those noble youths indulging in pleasure. Just by disciplining the unfilial, he won the acclaim of the upright officials."
Minglan slowly settled her heart. It seemed he had said nothing explicit about her question, yet in essence, he had said everything.
Her tightly clenched fingers gradually loosened. She lifted her head and listened quietly, so quietly she could hear her own heartbeat. This was the first time in her life she truly grasped the allure of political strategy and statecraft—calm on the surface, yet profoundly stirring.
"Sir, your words are not yet fully spoken."
Her voice was calm and gentle, like raindrops after a shower, lightly tapping one by one on smooth stone steps.
Minglan tilted her head slightly, gazing at the ice basin in the corner. "All this talk of 'justified at every turn' and 'standing on principle'—the Emperor was designated heir by the Late Emperor’s Imperial Edict. What if he hadn’t acted this way? At most, he’d have faced a few memorials of remonstrance. Could anyone deny his legitimacy as Emperor? Sir, you—or others—what exactly are you afraid of?"
She raised her eyes, clear and lucid like a tranquil spring, directly meeting the gaze of the man across from her.
Gongsun Baishi’s folding fan paused mid-air. He wiped the smile from his face, studied Minglan for a moment, and said calmly, "You speak rightly, Madam. However, the heir appointed by the Late Emperor was not solely the present Emperor."
Minglan was puzzled. The Third Prince and Fourth Prince were dead, the Fifth Prince had been executed for rebellion, the Sixth Prince had been stripped of rank to commoner status, and the Seventh Prince had died young. Wasn’t the Eighth Prince’s ascension to the throne only natural? What were they apprehensive about?
She felt somewhat confused. On the surface, there was no issue, yet an unease stirred within her. A low, surging drumbeat seemed to echo in her ears, the heavy thrum of the drum growing closer and closer. Suddenly, a flash of insight crossed her mind, and she blurted out:
"It’s Prince Yu! The young prince that the Sixth Prince adopted into the Third Prince’s line!"
Gongsun Baishi silently praised her sharpness. He straightened and bowed solemnly to Minglan. "Madam is perceptive and clear-minded. Indeed, it is that young prince, not yet ten years old. You must understand, the adoption of the young prince was decreed by His Majesty’s own edict, and the designation of the Third Prince as heir was also formalized by Imperial Edict. All that remained was the public proclamation—who could have foreseen such sudden upheaval?"At this point, the old man could only sigh. "When the Late Emperor was gravely ill, countless people gathered by his sickbed, weeping and pleading for him to appoint the young prince as heir. Fortunately, the Late Emperor remained clear-headed, understanding that the country needed an experienced ruler. In such turbulent times, appointing a child emperor would only invite power struggles among imperial relatives and ministers, likely sparking immediate chaos. Thus, he resisted Shengde Taihou's tearful entreaties and firmly established the current emperor's birth mother as the head of the six palaces before appointing the crown prince. Sigh... Few know these palace secrets."
Minglan pondered briefly before stating decisively, "Wasn't this just leaving behind future troubles? Did no one advise the Late Emperor to make a cleaner break? The Third Prince's faction had been entrenched in the capital for years—their intricate networks and resources, both overt and covert, were far beyond what the Eighth Prince could match."
"All the upright and staunch ministers in the Grand Secretariat had been purged. Chief Minister Shen is a cunning old fox who slips through every net. Moreover, even if the Late Emperor recognized the potential dangers, he couldn't bring himself to act ruthlessly. After all, the Third Prince died tragically, and his consort has always been gentle and virtuous, well-regarded by the imperial court. With Shengde Taihou suddenly losing her support, her situation was truly pitiable. To strip their adopted son of inheritance would have meant extinguishing the Third Prince's lineage. The Late Emperor's reluctance was understandable. Sigh... Since the Late Emperor's passing, neither the court nor the inner palace has known a moment of peace. The Emperor has had no easy time of it."
Gongsun Baishi also felt this matter was unreliable, but since the person in question was both deceased and the Late Emperor, it wasn’t appropriate to criticize too much.
Minglan fell silent. Her political professor had once said that behind every proposition lies a supporting force.
If the Eighth Prince ascended the throne, the makeshift entourage he brought from the border regions would rise to prominence overnight. If the Third Prince took the throne, the forces that had staunchly supported him would gain control of the empire. Once one has tasted the flavor of power, no one is willing to let it go.
She now understood why the emperor was so eager to arrange a marriage between Uncle Shen and the Duke of Ying’s household—it was merely two factions vying for the support of the swing votes. She also understood why the emperor kept harping on the Fourth Prince’s treason case—it was just an excuse to entangle and eliminate some of his rival factions.
"The forces in the court today can roughly be divided into four factions," Gongsun Baishi said, frowning deeply and clenching his fists as if deep in thought. "The emperor leads one faction; Shengde Taihou and the Prince of Yu form another; the upright scholar-officials count as a third, and then there’s the unrest in the regions. That’s about it, though there may be some obscure undercurrents I’m unaware of."
"Don’t worry too much, sir," Minglan said, growing more engrossed in the discussion. "I observe that the emperor acts with clear strategy and will surely find a way. As for the upright scholars..."
She paused to choose her words carefully. These people were actually the most cunning—her own family had two of them. Under the guise of being guided by sage teachings to assist the ruler, they always positioned themselves on the side of righteousness, steadfastly avoiding any missteps in their political alignment.
"As the emperor solidifies his reign day by day, they will gradually align with him. As for the regions, as long as the central government remains stable, they can slowly be brought under control. The most troublesome issue is... ahem. Moreover, I’ve heard that before the Late Emperor passed away, he personally entrusted the emperor to take good care of Shengde Taihou and the Prince of Yu, her son."
Gongsun Baishi slapped his thigh and sighed heavily. "Exactly! It’s like a bone-deep ulcer—impossible to shake off. But it’s not entirely hopeless. Let’s just hope the emperor doesn’t act hastily. In another eight or ten years, when constraints have lessened, he may be able to handle it gradually."
"Perhaps after eight or ten years, everyone will have accepted their fate and stopped causing trouble," Minglan predicted optimistically. These interest groups weren’t cults—they wouldn’t brainwash themselves into blind loyalty and stubbornly charge down a single path.
"Let’s not stray from the topic—we need to circle back to our own situation," Gongsun Baishi said with an expression that seemed to say, "You young people are so easily distracted." Minglan felt embarrassed. Who was it that had diverted the conversation from the Water Curtain Cave to the Flaming Mountains?
"Although the major turmoil has been quelled, undercurrents still surge, and the court remains full of unpredictable schemes," Gongsun Baishi said, standing up and turning to gaze out the window at the distant mountains and rivers. "To secure one’s position, one must not only gauge the emperor’s intentions but also assess the trends of the times." He sighed. "If the emperor fares poorly, Zhonghuai will inevitably suffer. But even if the emperor is secure and content in all matters, Zhonghuai may not necessarily fare well."
"What do you mean by that?" Minglan furrowed her delicate brows.
Gongsun Baishi turned back to her and smiled wryly. "Although Zhonghuai had some friendship with the emperor back in the day, it pales in comparison to those who guarded the emperor closely for over a decade as his trusted confidants from his princely estate. Moreover, the Eighth Prince and the emperor are two entirely different matters.""...The Son of Heaven has no family, for family matters are state matters; the Son of Heaven has no friends, only the distinction between ruler and subject; the Son of Heaven has no personal interests, his heart should only hold the nation and its altars of soil and grain." Minglan suddenly recalled Zhuang Xiansheng's words and murmured softly—even Xiao Xuanzi and Xiao Guizi couldn't overcome this barrier.
"Since Madam understands this so clearly, it puts my mind at ease. This old man has expended considerable effort in repeated admonitions, yet I hardly know how much Zhonghuai has taken to heart. As ministers, we must be cautious ourselves—never assume the emperor will shield us from everything." Gongsun Baishi nodded with a faint smile. "Precisely for this reason, when the Marquis' household encountered trouble, I strongly advocated for Zhonghuai to plead for mercy."
The shift in topic was too abrupt. Minglan blinked, indicating her confusion.
"Firstly," the old man swayed his head, "Zhonghuai, at his age, already holds high position—this inevitably draws attention. If he were to abandon his own flesh and blood immediately upon rising to prominence, regardless of justification, gossip would become formidable."
Minglan nodded slowly—this had been one of her major concerns as well.
"Secondly, in this matter, what ultimately is the Emperor's true disposition?"
Gongsun Baishi narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Truthfully, His Majesty isn't particularly concerned about the Marquis' household's scandals. Whether they're dealt with or not hardly affects the greater situation. What matters is: what kind of subordinate does the Emperor desire? Yi Ya, Shu Diao, and Prince Kaifang. Guan Zhong's advice to Duke Huan of Qi—these historical lessons remain ever relevant."
Minglan greatly admired this insight—he had struck the core issue. Searching her heart, she wondered: when managing household affairs, did she prefer those who denied all kinship, or those who cared for their families? It was a subtle psychological state.
"Thirdly, and most troublesome." Gongsun Baishi sat down again, selecting several grapes from the agate plate and slowly peeling them. "Zhonghuai's grievances—I know them, you know them, the Marquis' household knows them—but how many outsiders truly understand? Zhonghuai's reputation as a profligate youth persists, while the Marquis' household has no particularly outrageous handles exposed to the public. Ah, accumulated slander destroys bones—decades of prejudice."
Minglan's lips moved several times before closing again.
"Could Zhonghuai expose what happened back then? He cannot—that would be great filial impiety," Gongsun added.
Minglan carefully contemplated the implications, then slowly nodded.
The matter of Baishi had been a shame to the Gu family—marrying her for money, then failing to properly treat the son she left behind, driving him away with endless persecution. If these things were revealed, Old Marquis Gu's reputation would be ruined, and the Marquis' household would become a laughingstock.
But a son does not speak of his father's faults. If Gu Tingye were to widely publicize these matters and damage his deceased father's name, then even if originally blameless, he would be in the wrong.
"With these three impossibilities, I've continually advised Zhonghuai to take the long view—not to obsess over temporary gains and losses. The days are long—he has ample time to clear Madame Bai's name and seek justice for himself. Why rush at this moment?"
Gongsun Baishi picked up a chilled towel nearby to wipe his hands, stroking his beard as he said, "Recently, Zhonghuai was too angered for me to say much. Two days ago, after you returned from the Marquis' residence, I noticed he had softened somewhat, so I hurried over again. After much persuasion, I finally managed to convince him."
Minglan felt deeply moved, thinking this old man genuinely had their best interests at heart to persist so tirelessly in his counsel.
"...You've worked hard, Xiansheng. Minglan... Minglan truly doesn't know how to thank you." She bowed sincerely to the old man.Gongsun Baishi waved his hands repeatedly and smiled, "It's no trouble at all. Zhonghuai and I are friends despite our age difference, and our temperaments suit each other well. Besides, my advice wasn't given for free. I told Zhonghuai not to seek help from anyone else or argue his case, but to appeal directly to His Majesty for mercy. If he could shed a few tears when speaking of his sorrows, that would be even better."
Minglan slightly parted her lips. What a subtle and profound strategy!
In other words, Gu Tingye wasn't trying to absolve those scoundrels of their crimes—they were indeed guilty—but merely asking the emperor to show leniency for his sake.
Or perhaps the focus of this persuasion wasn't on the outcome but on the act itself. Whether those scoundrels could escape punishment was unimportant; the key was to make the emperor understand Gu Tingye's difficulties and sufferings, allowing him to see a Gu Tingye who valued loyalty, was tenderhearted, and possessed a kind and benevolent nature.
Minglan had an epiphany and smiled slyly, asking in a low voice, "So, did he cry?"
"As for that, this old man would like to ask you, madam," Gongsun Baishi pretended to glare, puffing out his beard.
Minglan covered her mouth with a light laugh, finding this old man quite endearing. Eventually, she straightened her sleeves and bowed gracefully, smiling as she said, "They say listening to your words is worth more than reading ten years of books. Thanks to you, sir, for not minding my foolishness and taking the trouble to explain so patiently, I've truly gained insight today. I offer you my gratitude."
"No need, no need. I didn't speak for nothing either," Gongsun Baishi shook his head with a laugh. "Although Zhonghuai followed my advice and pleaded for mercy this time, he was left fuming inside. A true man must act with a clear and unburdened heart, or else he'll either offend others or harm himself. Yesterday at noon, after speaking with you for a while, madam, he looked much better when he left. Last night... ahem, I heard from Xiaoshunzi that when Zhonghuai went out this morning, his expression was bright and cheerful, as if nothing had been wrong."
The old man's repeated praise made Minglan blush deeply, lowering her head in shyness.
"I can't nag him for a lifetime. You two are the ones who will grow old together. It's always better to clarify things with you earlier," Gongsun Baishi said with a broad, understanding smile.
"Anyway, it's all thanks to your great wisdom," Minglan, extremely embarrassed, quickly changed the subject.
"It's also because Zhonghuai himself was open to reason that I could persuade him," Gongsun Baishi replied modestly.
Eager to talk about something else, Minglan hurriedly asked, "What did you say to him, sir?"
"Zhonghuai was indignant and asked me if there was a way to vent his anger without causing trouble. I said, yes, there is," Gongsun Baishi wore an inscrutable expression. "As long as Zhonghuai is willing to become a 'lone minister.'"
"A lone minister?!" Minglan was shocked. No way—she didn't want to be the family member of a lone minister!
"Yes, a lone minister with no attachments, unwavering in loyalty, relying solely on the emperor's trust throughout his life."
Minglan was speechless for a long moment. Forming cliques for personal gain was certainly wrong, but in the court, one couldn't afford to have no friends at all.
From what she knew, among the tragic and admirable lone ministers in the long span of history, half met terrible ends—classic examples being Shang Yang, Wu Qi, and Chao Cuo. The other half may have died peacefully themselves, but their descendants were left with no one to rely on (since their fathers had offended everyone), and their family's prosperity lasted only one generation—a classic case being the 'ruthless official' Tian Wenjing.
"Don't worry, madam," Gongsun Baishi, seeing Minglan's worried expression, suppressed a laugh and said, "The moment I finished speaking, Zhonghuai flatly refused."Minglan breathed a sigh of relief, patting her frightened little heart—good, good, fortunately Gu Tingye was a reformed dandy who appeared to be a pillar of society, but whose ideological awareness hadn't kept pace with his political competence.
Gongsun Baishi glanced sideways at Minglan, silently smiling as he stroked his beard.
In fact, Gu Tingye's original words had been: He took a wife so she could live a good life, not to suffer with him.
...
Seven or eight days later, late one night.
Madam Shao entered through the doorway holding a bowl of hot medicine, only to see Gu Tingyu sitting up in bed, leaning against the pillows deep in thought. Immediately, her brows furrowed with worry as she softly exclaimed, "Why are you up again? Lie down quickly." She moved forward to support her husband.
Gu Tingyu waved his hand. "Lying down day and night is exhausting. I got up to rest for a while."
Madam Shao fell silent, sitting quietly beside him as she gently blew on the medicine to cool it.
"Just now, Aunt came again," Gu Tingyu said, gazing at the bed canopy. His face was haggard beyond measure, but his eyes were sharp.
Madam Shao sighed almost imperceptibly. "Why does she... Ah, she knows perfectly well you're ill. Why does she keep disturbing you like this?"
"She's getting anxious," Gu Tingyu replied, a faintly mocking smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Before I die, she wants to settle that matter."
Madam Shao hesitated, but ultimately couldn't resist asking, "Haven't you considered... the Grand Old Madam's words?"
A sickly flush spread across Gu Tingyu's sallow face. He suddenly laughed, the laughter triggering a coughing fit. Madam Shao hurriedly patted his back, and it took quite a while before the coughing subsided. Gasping for breath, he said, "These past few days, have you heard anything outside?"
Madam Shao thought for a moment. "That day when the imperial guards came to announce the decree, they said the Marquis Estate's collusion with the Rebellious Prince was confirmed. But considering Second Brother's merits, Fourth Uncle's advanced age, and Third Brother's limited involvement, they were all released. Only Bing brother... several people testified against him. Ah... he has to go to that frozen wasteland for three years. Sister-in-law has been crying and making a scene these past few days."
"Is that all?"
Madam Shao thought again, then shook her head.
"You!" Gu Tingyu laughed. "You're just too honest." With difficulty, he straightened up and whispered, "Haven't you heard the rumors lately? They say Aunt is a stepmother with a vicious heart, that she deliberately drove Second Brother away back then just to wait for me to die so Third Brother could inherit the title."
Madam Shao still shook her head. "Why bother with such baseless talk?"
Seeing her husband's gaunt, skeletal face in the lamplight, she couldn't help but feel heartache.
Gu Tingyu slowly leaned back against the headboard, a slight sneer on his face. "Just now, I told Aunt that Second Brother has now grown his wings. He has the means and the cunning—he wouldn't take my words at face value and obediently wait. Even if I go back on my word, he has countermeasures ready. Now that he's preserved the Marquis Estate, he's even less likely to hand over the title willingly. I told her to give up and stop mentioning the adoption of Xian ge'er."
Madam Shao stared blankly. "You mean... these rumors are Second Brother's doing..."
"Not necessarily just rumors," Gu Tingyu said with a self-mocking smile. "It's not as if Aunt never had those intentions."After a while, Madam Shao opened her weary, reddened eyes and suddenly shed tears: "With Second Brother's current capabilities, how could the title possibly slip from his grasp? Why must he press us so hard? Our wish to adopt a son was only to ensure you'd have someone to continue the family line and offer sacrifices at your grave—we never intended to contend for the title with him. How... how can he not even tolerate this?"
Gu Tingyu gazed at his wife with pity and said softly, "Don't cry anymore, or you'll harm your eyes. This matter isn't entirely Second Brother's fault either. After enduring grievances for over twenty years, now that he's finally emerged triumphant, he naturally wants to claim the title openly and honorably. If I were to leave behind an adopted heir, it would forever give people a pretext and a handle against him. Once disputes arise, they would never end. Besides, anyone else might be acceptable, but adopting Xianjie? Wouldn't that fulfill Aunt's wishes? Hmph, how could Second Brother ever agree to that?"
Knowing the situation was irreversible, Madam Shao could only weep quietly. With great effort, Gu Tingyu raised his arm to wipe her tears: "Give up on the idea of adoption. I've never believed in what happens after death. Right now, my only concerns are you and Xianjie. Ah, marrying me has ruined your entire life."
"Don't say such things!" Madam Shao cried out sorrowfully, throwing herself across her husband's legs as she wept. "I possess neither talent nor beauty, and my family background is ordinary. Being able to marry you was the greatest blessing of my life."
Gu Tingyu gently stroked his wife's hair and spoke weakly: "I need to give you some instructions now. You must remember them well."
Madam Shao lifted her head and nodded firmly.
The sickly man, frail as dried twigs, gathered his strength to speak solemnly: "First, after I die, no matter who tries to persuade you, you must never mention adoption again. Even if not for your own sake, do it for Xianjie. As long as I leave no adopted heir, Second Brother and his wife will treat you well. Even after Xianjie marries, they will protect her. This is far better than having an adopted son of unknown character and capability."
Madam Shao wept bitterly, her face streaked with tears as she knelt by the bedside, nodding repeatedly.
"Second, if there are ever conflicts between Second Brother's wife and the Grand Old Madam, you must not get involved. Especially if Aunt asks you to do anything—you must be extremely cautious." Gu Tingyu particularly emphasized these last few words.
Tears streaming down her face, Madam Shao looked at him in confusion.
Gu Tingyu smiled bitterly: "It's only in recent years that I've come to understand Aunt's true nature. She's most adept at using others as pawns. Previously, it was Fourth Uncle and Fifth Uncle—she stirred up such conflict between them and Second Brother that they became sworn enemies, while she played the good person before the old master. Even I, hmph, was probably caught in her schemes."
Madam Shao wiped her tears blankly: "That can't be right. The Grand Old Madam has always seemed so kind to me."
"I suspect the old master eventually saw through it too—that's why he left letters for our clansmen in Jinling and Qingcheng."
Gu Tingyu sneered, "Do you know why Fourth Uncle and Fifth Uncle were so eager to pressure our clansmen? They wanted to intercept the property the old master left for Second Brother. But this is the main branch's affair—what concern is it of theirs? It's only because Aunt promised to divide those assets equally among the three families. Hmph, rallying others to target a single opponent—that's the tactic she's most skilled at throughout her life."
Hearing these words that sounded like final instructions, Madam Shao felt chilled to the bone. Her heart ached as if splitting apart, yet no more tears would come—as if she had already wept herself dry. She could only nod woodenly."I don't think Second Brother's wife is an overbearing or harsh woman. As long as you fulfill these two points and treat her with courtesy, I believe you can manage to live together... Wait, let me think. Perhaps I should give him another grand gift? I mustn't offend her either. Alright... this is good. You and your mother can live better, and Xianjie's marriage prospects won't be a worry anymore."
Gu Tingyu, utterly exhausted, spoke softer and softer until he was almost murmuring to himself. Lost in thought, a strange smile appeared on his face as he whispered under his breath.
"Father, Mother, I'll be joining you soon. Don't worry. The old master must be pleased now - Second Brother has become so accomplished and married such a beautiful wife. Mother, I've let you down. In every way, I couldn't measure up to Second Brother..."
...
In the third year of Chongde, on the nineteenth day of the sixth month, Gu Tingyu, Marquis of Ningyuan, passed away.
In the seventh month of the same year, an imperial decree appointed Gu Tingye as the Marquis of Ningyuan, granting him a second-rank super-grade nobility title, and conferred upon his wife Sheng Shi the title of First-Rank Imperial Mandate Lady.
(End of Volume)
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[Author's Notes]
Note 1: Thread-pulled Shaking Curtain: An ancient type of fan with relatively weak airflow.
There was another more powerful version.
"Records of the Western Capital," Volume 1 contains this account: During the Han Dynasty, "the skilled artisan Ding Huan of Chang'an... created a seven-wheel fan, connecting seven wheels each about ten feet in diameter. When operated by one person, the entire hall would shiver with cold." This indicates that as early as the Han Dynasty, people had already invented large-scale cooling devices with blades that stirred the wind, achieving remarkable cooling effects.
Since the description in this text is quite brief, we cannot accurately determine the exact appearance of this ancient large fan. However, we can reasonably deduce that its wind-stirring mechanism likely involved rotating wheel-shaped blades - installing blades on giant wheels, connecting seven wheels on a single axle with a hand crank at one end. By turning the handle, the seven giant wheels would rotate rapidly, agitating the air in the room to achieve a cooling effect throughout the space. Such large fans would have been high-tech patented products at the time, "luxury appliances" exclusively enjoyed by royalty and nobility, rarely seen among common people, hence no "knockoff" imitations emerged. Over time, this example of ancient ingenuity could only be found in classical texts.
...
Note 2: Among the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn Period, Duke Huan of Qi in his later years promoted three treacherous ministers named Yi Ya, Shu Diao, and Prince Kaifang.
Yi Ya was a famous chef who, for Duke Huan of Qi, cooked his own young son into a meat soup for the duke to eat. Duke Huan was deeply moved, but Guan Zhong remarked: "Loving one's son is human nature. If he would sacrifice his own son for wealth and status, who else wouldn't he harm?"
Shu Diao was originally a man who castrated himself to remain by Duke Huan of Qi's side and serve in the palace. Duke Huan was deeply moved, but Guan Zhong said: "Someone who doesn't care about his own body for the sake of wealth and status - would he care about anyone else?"
Prince Kaifang was the heir apparent of a minor state who abandoned his position as crown prince to stay by Duke Huan of Qi's side, not even returning home when his parents died. Duke Huan was again deeply moved, and Guan Zhong again commented: "Someone who disregards filial duty to his parents - would he care about anyone else? Abandoning the position of crown prince means he has even greater ambitions."
I think Guan Zhong definitely never read any BL novels about tragic love stories - in those stories, all the above behaviors would be entirely possible.In the end, Guan Zhong's ominous prediction unfortunately came true. These three treacherous ministers destroyed the prosperous state of Qi. Duke Huan of Qi ultimately died in his secluded palace, his corpse left unattended until it became infested with maggots.
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