Chapter 390: Whose Fault?

Bao Yue fell into thought for a moment, her gaze settling on the lamp's shadow at the corner of the desk, and spoke slowly:

"Or perhaps there never was an accuser—it was Shen Qu Qu Yuan's own excuse. If there truly was one, that person must be either from the Palace Quarters or someone close to me. No one close to me would betray me; if there were, it wouldn't have taken this long to strike in such a manner. As for those in the Palace..."

Bao Yue paused, her fingertip lightly tapping the desk:

"There are three possibilities. First, it's aimed at Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Qian Ruoer. If so, nine out of ten it's those junior eunuchs. Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Qian Ruoer was promoted to Supervisor, stirring jealousy among his peers. They noticed something suspicious but, fearing me, dared not report it to their superiors—so they sent it to the Censorate to catch him red-handed.

Second, it's aimed at Shen Qu Qu Yuan. They've read his mind perfectly, setting a trap to lure him into making enemies. I'm merely the bait, placed there to draw Shen Qu Qu Yuan into the net. He has many enemies; plenty have motive and means to do this."

Xiao Luan watched his daughter, his eyes holding quiet approval. When analyzing problems, nothing is more dangerous than being trapped in a single corner—rigid, narrow-minded, thinking ever deeper into a wrong path until you're lost in a thousand-foot abyss, unable to escape, doomed to walk one road to the end. The final result becomes a gamble: those who guess right by luck, those who guess wrong, ruined.

This is why countless figures in history have misjudged critical moments and made fatal choices—even when new information emerged, they could not correct course. Because what they saw was narrow, what they believed was fixed; once their hearts shut, their ears and eyes were sealed. How could such judgment not fail? This is not fate—it is human folly, poor planning, incomplete thought.

Bao Yue concentrated deeply, unaware of her father's reaction. She stopped tapping, curled her fingers, and her gaze flickered in the lamplight:

"If not them, then it's aimed at me. I have no enemies, but Duke Duke Zhuang's sword dance targets Pei Gong. If so, the threads multiply. The Secretariat and the Door-Down Office are both inside the Palace; if they're determined, investigating Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Qian Ruoer is easy. It may not even target the Crown Prince—political rivals might be targeting Father alone. Then there's the Inner Palace—

The Inner Palace: Consort Zhou (mother of the Fifth Prince, Prince Prince Prince Anlu, and the Ninth Prince, Prince Wang Wang Jian'an), Consort Ruan (mother of the Seventh Prince, Prince Jin'an, and the Eighteenth Prince, Prince Hengyang), Consort Wang (mother of the Eighth Prince, Prince Suijun)... even Consort Cai and Lady Yue (mothers of the Tenth and Eleventh Princes, low in rank among the Nine Concubines, their sons only eleven years old)—it's not impossible..."

Bao Yue fell silent. The room grew still.

"Anything else?" Xiao Luan asked.

"Anything else?"

Bao Yue lifted her eyes, a hint of confusion in her brows.

Xiao Luan watched his daughter in silence.

Bao Yue recalled her father's earlier words: "Stirring the Secretariat against the Censorate." Suddenly, a shocking possibility struck her—her long lashes trembled:

"Could it be..."

Before she could finish, she frowned:

"No..."

If the Emperor intended to strip power, he could have simply handed Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Sima Sima Qian Sima Qian Ruoer over to the Court of Judicial Review without her knowledge, extracted a confession, or detained her on the spot with the Censorate and the Two Temples to seal the case. Why go through such messy, drawn-out steps? Besides, this uncle of mine has watched me grow up—he's treated me well. He wouldn't do this...

"What do you mean, Father?"

"I have no meaning. I only ask: have you guessed everything? Since it's guessing, you can guess anything—possible things, impossible things..."

Bao Yue, sharp as ever, seized the key:

"Guess the impossible..."

Xiao Luan sipped his tea, speaking slowly:

"Where there is hope, there may be none. In the ordinary path lies the extraordinary. The most useless thing often becomes the most useful. In the impossible—is it truly impossible?"

Bao Yue sank into thought.

Tap.

A black stone landed on the go board.

The Emperor slowly withdrew his hand, his sleeve falling to cover his wrist.

Qi Mu Zhenzhi stared at the board, brows knotted, utterly baffled:

"Your Majesty, placing this stone here... what... what is the meaning?"

The Emperor smiled:

"Can't see it, can you? This move of mine has four purposes."

Qi Mu Zhenzhi didn't believe it. Though the Emperor's go skill was slightly better than his own, it wasn't exceptional—he couldn't possibly be unable to understand a single move. This detachment—ignoring the local fight to play elsewhere—made no sense. Polite terms called it a clever deviation; blunt ones called it aimless, as if he'd played randomly—and yet four purposes?

Of course he couldn't say that. He stared at the board, left and right, straining his mind, gesturing, muttering,

After much effort, he flushed with shame:

"I've pondered repeatedly—I simply cannot fathom Your Majesty's strategy!"

The Emperor beamed:

"Not guessing it? Perfect! If you could guess it, why would I play it? The brilliance of this move is that you can't guess it—and yet it serves four purposes at once. But that's not the greatest part. The greatest is: even if you guess it, you still have to respond to it—exactly as I intended!"

Qi Mu Zhenzhi smiled bitterly:

"Your servant is dull—I still don't understand. I could continue enclosing my large territory and ignore Your Majesty's strange move."

The Emperor smiled:

"Try it."

Qi Mu Zhenzhi pinched a white stone, hovering his fingertip above his own formation—just as he was about to play, a cold cough echoed. He looked up and saw the Emperor's face had darkened, not a trace of amusement left! His heart lurched—he quickly shifted the stone to the left of the Emperor's black stone, barely responding.

The Emperor spoke calmly:

"See? You still had to respond to my move."

After a brief shock, Qi Mu Zhenzhi immediately dropped his stone and bowed, face filled with reverence:

"Your Majesty's divine strategy—Your servant is utterly outmatched!!"

The Emperor laughed heartily.

Meanwhile, Bao Yue was lost in thought when Xiao Luan spoke:

"Now, let's speak of real business..."

Xiao Luan fixed his gaze on his daughter, a faint, knowing smile on his lips:

"Your 'real business.' You came to the Secretariat not just to avoid Shen Qu Qu Yuan, did you?"

Bao Yue swiftly ran through her prepared words, confirmed they were sound, and began telling her father the story of a young talent who partnered with her to overcome obstacles and defy Prince Badong.

In truth, she deeply wished to keep Wang Yang hidden from her father's gaze. It wasn't only because Wang Yang had fatal vulnerabilities in his identity, nor merely because her relationship with her father was cold—it was also due to an overwhelming unease.

To her, her father was an unpredictable force, beyond her control. To bring Wang Yang before him meant placing Wang Yang in a situation she could no longer protect—like releasing her most precious possession into darkness, handing it to an uncertain being! That unease nearly seized her heart!

But she had no other choice.

She had considered downplaying Wang Yang's worth to reduce her father's interest—but then he might refuse to help. So she had to highlight his talent to earn his serious attention and awaken his appreciation for genius.

Still, she held back. Some omissions were strategic—Wang Yang's pacification strategy for the barbarians, his disruption of Jingzhou. Others were to conceal his identity—how he turned the tables after she thought she'd crushed him, how he won battles among the barbarian tribes—she left all that unsaid.

Yet even with so much hidden, there was still much to say: his talent! his wit! his strategic brilliance that toppled a provincial governor! his youthful genius that made Prince Badong hesitate to kill him! his eloquence echoed through scholarly circles! his scholarship swept through Jing and Chu! he drew even masters to bow before him! he mastered all Four Canons!

Bao Yue spoke with radiant eyes, her bright apricot pupils gleaming as if holding dawnlight!

Xiao Luan:...

Bao Yue finished in one breath, feeling invigorated! The frustration of failed messages and the gloom of having to beg her father vanished! She felt her spirit restored, confident in the future—even hungry! She picked up her chopsticks and grabbed a large jumping dumpling.

Xiao Luan:...

After eating several bites to replenish her strength, she continued: how Wang Yang, loyal and righteous, had courageously hidden himself in the tiger's den, embedded in the enemy camp—pretending compliance while secretly planning rebellion. She then dramatized his nine deaths and one life, the countless hardships he endured to smuggle the secret letter out of Jingzhou for her to deliver to the Emperor! His motive? Not heaven, not fate—only a burning heart devoted to the state!

Xiao Luan:...

"... His loyal spirit pierces the long rainbow! Who enters the tiger's den without fear? Only those who value something greater—"

Xiao Luan raised his hand to interrupt:

"Enough. Show me the letter."

Bao Yue pulled out the letter, hesitated, fingers gripping it, and looked at Xiao Luan:

"Will you present it to the Emperor?"

"The Emperor has closed Yanchang Palace. I cannot see him."

"Tomorrow, the Emperor will attend court and convene the Eight Ministers."

Xiao Luan smiled:

"You're growing sharper. I didn't even know the Emperor was coming to court."

"Will you present the letter to the Emperor?"

Bao Yue's gaze never left Xiao Luan's face, as if reading every flicker of expression.

Xiao Luan's expression didn't change:

"I must read the letter's content before deciding."

Bao Yue weighed her words, rose, and handed the letter to Xiao Luan.

As Xiao Luan opened the letter, Bao Yue casually mentioned she had once given it to Yu Cong, who promised to deliver it to the Emperor—but failed.

Xiao Luan smiled faintly:

"You're wary of me."

Bao Yue, unusually meek, replied:

"Daughter had no such intention."

Of course she was wary.

She wanted her father to know the letter had already been seen by Yu Cong—there were other witnesses. Altering or suppressing it was no longer arbitrary. In matters of rebellion, you, as Right Minister of the Secretariat, bear the weight of state affairs—knowing yet withholding—what is your intent?!

Thus, in Bao Yue's calculation, once her father read the letter, half the battle was won.

But Xiao Luan's reaction surprised her—

He read it through, showed no surprise, no praise—merely set the letter aside, calm and indifferent:

"Why should I help him?"

Bao Yue's expression turned solemn:

"This letter outlines a plan to quell rebellion—it concerns the safety of the state, not one family! Father, as a minister, holding the highest office, how can you hear and ignore it, see and fail to act? If you suppress it and delay, letting the rebels grow stronger, the realm will be stained with blood! Who bears the blame?"

Xiao Luan smiled:

"You've laid a fine charge—you could replace Shen Qu Qu Yuan."

Bao Yue's face held no smile:

"Father, please prioritize the state—"

"The state is not spoken of in words. Official memorials follow protocol—no private submissions. The minister's duty is governance, not transmitting letters. Wang Yang, though labeled a spy, has effectively joined the rebels. His true intentions? Impossible to judge swiftly. This boy is no kin or friend to me—why should I trust him? Why should I help him?"

Xiao Luan glanced at his daughter, his voice cold.