Chapter 343

The one who spoke was an official in a purple robe, He Yun.

One of the Nine Ministers, the Minister of Rites.

Head of the Ministry of Rites, responsible for the state ancestral temple rituals and major sacrifices.

Minister He had considerable influence in court and among the imperial clan; beside him, Prince Wu Wei Xi's expression shifted slightly, then he hesitated, but ultimately remained silent.

On the main seat, Zhang Jian fixed his gaze on He Yun, a flash of strange color appearing in his eyes.

He smiled and said: "Oh, could it be that Minister He has an even more suitable candidate in mind?"

In the hall, many civil and military officials also could not help but turn their eyes toward He Yun.

He Yun hastily clasped his fists and said: "Grand Scholar, please forgive this official's frankness—whether it is the Crown Prince or the Third Prince, though both are the Emperor's sons, they are not enlightened rulers, unable to stem the tide of chaos or inherit the legacy of the High Ancestor!"

Beside him, Wang Yan frowned at this moment and questioned: "Minister He, what do you mean by this? Are you still intending to select a candidate from among the other imperial princes and vassal kings?"

Other civil and military officials glanced over, their eyes showing a hint of strange color.

Facing the gazes of the crowd, He Yun's expression remained unchanged, merely sighing deeply: "Minister of Justice Wang, your words are mistaken—though the imperial princes are many, they lack unity and lack public support; how could they command obedience and overpower the princes?"

Upon hearing this, the crowd grew even more astonished!

Zhang Jian also turned his gaze over, only to see He Yun clasping his fists toward the crowd and saying:

"As Minister of Rites, I oversee the ancient rites of the ancestral temple; I also know a little of the art of observing qi!

These past few days, I have observed the Qian symbols at night—I fear our Great Qian's fate may be exhausted, yet today, observing Grand Scholar Zhang's dragon-patterned phoenix bearing, with purple aura swirling around him, I see the appearance of one who bears the mandate of heaven and earth!"

As He Yun's words fell, everyone's expressions changed, and they all turned their eyes toward Zhang Jian; on the main seat, Zhang Jian glanced at He Yun, a cold smile appearing in his eyes.

He practices the Golden Lotus Hidden Breath technique—if he does not wish others to know his foundation, no amount of qi observation will avail.

He Yun, a mere mortal, how could he perceive his aura?

Yet he did not stop him, but instead allowed He Yun to boast.

Let us see what he intends to do.

Only to hear He Yun bow again: "Grand Scholar, your virtue resounds throughout the world, benefiting countless living beings; the worthy and able of all under heaven submit to you—such great virtue, even the Yellow Emperor and the Duke of Zhou fall short by ten thousandfold!

Our Great Qian should follow the ancient sages, abdicate in favor of virtue, to meet the hopes of heaven and man; Grand Scholar, you must not defy heaven's will and the people's hearts!"

After He Yun's speech, he suddenly bowed low, fully assuming the posture.

In the hall, many civil and military officials suddenly fell into dead silence; the people could not tell whether He Yun's words this time were Zhang Jian's suggestion or merely his own opinion.

On the main seat, Zhang Jian's eyes flashed with a cold smile, he gazed coldly at He Yun.

Now he could be certain—He Yun was testing him!

This Minister He is not honest!

Yet he also did not stop him; he too wished to observe these civil and military officials in the hall, to see how many still held loyalty to Great Qian, or how many harbored thoughts of him.

At this moment, a tranquil atmosphere flowed in the air; all around was deathly still; He Yun on the ground felt a faint cold sweat gradually seep from his brow, as that icy gaze from above fell upon him—piercingly cold to the bone.

He Yun was secretly alarmed, yet on his face he still struggled to maintain his lofty, passionate demeanor.

Seeing this, Wang Yan on the left had a flash of thought; after a moment, he gave a glance to an official in a red robe beside him—only to see that official tremble slightly, hesitate for a moment, then shakily step forward.

He said: "Fellow officials, fellow generals, Minister He's words are most correct—Grand Scholar's virtuous might is towering; even the Yellow Emperor and the Duke of Zhou fall short by ten thousandfold!"

With him taking the lead, immediately other noble officials followed suit, speaking loudly:

"Since ancient times, the righteous overthrow the unrighteous, the virtue-less yield to the virtuous—Grand Scholar taking the realm is exactly in accordance with heaven's will and the people's hearts!"

On the main seat, Zhang Jian's expression remained cold and indifferent, he shouted sternly:

"Silence, all of you!"

His voice fell like a thunderclap, instantly startling the chattering crowd!

Zhang Jian slowly rose from his seat, his gaze sharp as he fixed it on the crowd, his eyes flashing with the color of 'indignation':

"Throughout the history of Great Qian, its emperors have diligently governed, benefited the people and stabilized the world; the late emperor rose early and retired late, restoring mountains and rivers; as subjects, we ought to fulfill our duties faithfully—how dare we covet the divine artifacts? You are not true sons, actually seeking to drag me into the realm of disloyalty and injustice!"

"Come, take them all out for me—this Hall of Light of mine will not harbor such disloyalty and unfilial riffraff!"

Having spoken, he swept his wide sleeve—Zhang Fu and others immediately stepped forward, lifting He Yun and the clamoring officials who echoed him, and carried them all out the door.

Seeing this, He Yun's eyes flickered, a bright color appearing in their depths, yet he still shouted loudly:

"Grand Scholar, what this official speaks are words from the bottom of his heart—Great Qian's fate is exhausted; Grand Scholar should easily take the realm, save the myriad people from water and fire..."

Seeing this, Zhang Jian's deep eyes flashed with a cold smile.

It is indeed true that he intends to take this realm and ancestral altar, but not by this present method.

From ancient times to now, any founder of a dynasty, at the outset of their rise, needs a proper 'slogan' to give those around them a goal to strive for; second, they must ensure the banner they rally under possesses sufficient 'legitimacy'—only then can they gain the people's support.

Whoever wins the people's hearts wins the realm.

In the eyes of countless common folk, the present 'Great Qian' remains legitimate; at the very least, it will take over a decade of gradual influence before hearts can be won over.

Of course, during this process, one could also act like a tyrant, using overwhelming force to directly subdue.

But governing in such a way would greatly increase the difficulty.

Today he could seize the realm and ancestral altar by force; tomorrow others could do the same.

Legitimacy is very important.

He could wait for the 'young ruler's confusion and decadence', indulging in playthings and losing ambition, if he were to employ treacherous ministers devoid of benevolence—but no matter what, he could not simply seize the throne by brute force.

Beside him, Wang Huan had been watching this scene coldly; at this moment, a strange color flickered in his eyes, and he clasped his fists and laughed:

"Grand Scholar's noble integrity and lofty principles—I, the old man, am in awe!"

Many other civil and military officials also nodded slightly, their eyes showing some pleasure, including Prince Wu Wei Xi.

The people soon agreed: quickly welcome back the two princes, have the Crown Prince Wei Yuan ascend the great throne, and resume control of the court.

The civil and military officials hurriedly departed, each attending to their duties.

Wang Huan and his son were mixed in the crowd; as they came out, father and son still saw many officials still pointing and gossiping about the Minister of Rites He Yun and numerous other officials.

Wang You saw this and sighed: "This Minister He has also lost his mind—actually trying to flatter and advocate for advancement at this time; previously I did not know this Minister He was actually so two-faced!"

Wang Huan appeared faintly, shaking his head as he said: "He hasn't lost his mind at all—he's actually quite sharp!"

"But it's a pity, really—this bit of farming trickery of his can't possibly fool the eyes of the Grand Scholar!"

Upon hearing this, Wang You's expression changed.

"Father, what do you mean by that?"

He frowned—there was meaning behind Wang Huan's words.

Wang Huan glanced at the Zhang family mansion at that moment and sighed: "The Grand Scholar probably truly harbors ambitions of self-proclamation!"

Wang You's expression flickered with surprise upon hearing this; he glanced around and couldn't help but transmit via secret sound: "Father, you mustn't speak recklessly!"

Wang Huan coldly laughed—he had no such reservations.

"If Scholar Zhang truly had no designs on the throne, he should have simply and directly killed He Yun right then to prove his loyalty, rather than merely beating these people with rods and throwing them out!"

Inside the Zhang residence, Zhang Jian cast a dull glance toward the outside of the mansion—this old Grand Marshal made no effort to conceal himself.

This Wang father and son were speaking just around the Zhang household—it was as if they were discussing matters right by his ear.

Wang Huan should also know the methods of the True Person of the Primordial Spirit.

This is like an old longevity star drinking arsenic and growing tired of life—daring to discuss him?