Chapter 1350: The Commissioner of the Wude Office Grows Ever More Uneasy

"Still, at least we've made some headway—there's hope now!" Emperor Liu sighed deeply, then turned his gaze back to Li Chongju. Though it was only a vague impression, the gloom hanging over Emperor Liu seemed to have lifted considerably, and his eyes had grown calmer.

Li Chongju at this moment felt the relief of one released from crushing weight, yet the weariness etched into his expression was as congealed and stubborn as ice, slow to melt. He looked several years older, a testament to the immense pressure he had borne over the past period.

"These days, you've been busy with this matter the whole time—you've worked hard. Take some rest and relaxation; you're not young anymore, mind your health!" Emperor Liu seemed restored to his usual self, speaking to Li Chongju with a warm, familiar tone.

"I thank Your Majesty!" Li Chongju's demeanor showed no slackening as he replied respectfully: "Until the expeditionary army is found and the safety of the two princes is confirmed, I dare not allow myself the slightest negligence!"

"Enough! Just do your best—go about your work!" Emperor Liu smiled lightly.

"Your servant takes his leave!"

He withdrew with meticulous propriety, every move betraying no hint of carelessness. Since the northern campaign began, he and the Wude Office had suffered repeated rebukes, incurring Emperor Liu's displeasure time and again. And the attitude Emperor Liu displayed had filled him with dread.

Who was Li Chongju? Commissioner of the Wude Office, Commandery Duke of the Great Han, a loyal minister of the court, one of Emperor Liu's original guard officers—a founding minister of the Qianyou era who had followed Emperor Liu out of Hedong, who had passed through trials of life and death, through wind and rain for over twenty years, right up to the present.

Said aloud, no one would likely believe it: as the minister in charge of the Wude Office, the innermost of Emperor Liu's confidants, Li Chongju's standing in Emperor Liu's eyes had actually begun to waver. But it had truly happened, and Li Chongju had clearly sensed it before now.

Most of the civil and military officials around Emperor Liu had learned a single word: caution. Even those with flamboyant temperaments had, under Emperor Liu's long reign, learned how to be cautious, how to be humble before him. Of course, the arrogant and unruly had mostly suffered losses and learned their lessons—whether it was early heavyweights like Yang Bin and Wang Zhang, or fierce generals like Wang Yansheng, all of them had a say in that regard; even trusted civil and military men like Wang Zhu and Han Tong had experienced similar demotions.

Among the Qianyou-era officials, Li Chongju was one of the more low-key. His talents might not have been dazzling, but he was loyal and diligent, scrupulously kept to his place, and knew well what caution meant.

One should recall that the previous Commissioner of the Wude Office, Wang Jingchong, had died in prison. When Li Chongju was ordered to take charge of the Wude Office and learned of its inner workings, he had immediately expressed alarm, saying that this institution was not something a mere subject could control, and had humbly declined.

After that episode, Li Chongju had begun to feel uneasy. Partly it was his nature, and partly it was the nature of the Wude Office as a secret police organ. And Li Chongju had now served in the Wude Office for over eighteen full years—nearly twenty years, far too long a time.

Even though Li Chongju had always been proper and never overstepped, his imprint on the Wude Office was extraordinarily deep. The longer the time, the more his influence grew along with the Wude Office's expansion—but the risks carried by that formidable authority were also accumulating and settling.

The Wude Office had had three commissioners in all. The founder, Duke Shouguo Li Shaoyou, was Emperor Liu's childhood friend, a member of the imperial clan by marriage, who had extricated himself early. He still enjoyed the Wude Office's deterrent power and remained a gloriously prominent court minister, one of the twenty-four ministers of the Qianyou era.

The second, Wang Jingchong, had expanded the Wude Office with near-barbaric vigor, and had the misfortune to die an unnatural death at the hands of prison officials. Li Chongju, in his role at the Wude Office, had been one of steady consolidation and development—eighteen years down, and his influence had nearly soaked through every fiber of it.

But in the age of imperial autocracy, especially in Emperor Liu's era of strong imperial power, Li Chongju's authority in the Wude Office rested on a single ultimate foundation: Emperor Liu's trust.

For nearly twenty years past, that trust had not deteriorated, had hardly wavered at all. But now, it seemed, the situation was beginning to change.

As a spymaster envied by many, when the emperor's suspicion began to rise, his predicament needed no elaboration. On top of that, outside the Wude Office there was the Military Intelligence Office, and the Palace City Office, which kept showing its teeth and covertly competing and scheming against him—all of this placed enormous pressure on Li Chongju.

Of course, he was fortunate that the Palace City Office, which did not fear criticism, absorbed a great deal of the hatred; otherwise, the pressure borne by the Wude Office and Li Chongju would have been even greater.

As he left the palace, Li Chongju could not help but look back at where Emperor Liu was. The halls and pavilions were not as grand and magnificent as those of the two capitals, but the majesty they symbolized—the imperial authority—was exactly the same, enough to make one's heart pound and one's blood run cold.

"Alas..." He sighed heavily, and the worry lingering between his brows did not dissipate but instead grew even more somber. Walking slowly within the palace walls, each step heavier than the last, moving through the cold wind, Li Chongju's somewhat aged silhouette appeared all the more desolate.

In recent days, besides busying himself with the investigation into the expeditionary army, Li Chongju had also been pondering where Emperor Liu's displeasure came from. He was not a man of extraordinary intelligence, but he had his own wisdom in dealing with people and affairs. After much deliberation, he finally realized that perhaps it was not about certain lapses and oversights in the Wude Office.

In this vast empire, with its complex array of ministries and bureaus, its tens of thousands of officials and officers—which office, how many civil and military men, had never made a single mistake?

In the final analysis, it was still the Wude Office itself—that sensitive institution, whose influence was vast yet whose power was like a castle in the air. He had sat in the commissioner's seat for too long, so long that he had grown numb, so long that Emperor Liu had grown accustomed to it.

But now Emperor Liu seemed to have begun growing unaccustomed, beginning to cast strange, hard-to-fathom looks—and when those fell on Li Chongju, they spelled danger.

"I'm nearly fifty now. Once this last task is finished, perhaps it's time to step back." Stepping out of the traveling palace, Li Chongju turned back once more, gazing at the Youzhou traveling palace under the dim winter sun, murmuring to himself.

One had to admit that Emperor Liu's conduct this year, the emotions he had revealed, had frightened Li Chongju, had filled him with dread. In his unease, he had begun to seek self-preservation, wanting to extricate himself and find peace.

Of course, Li Chongju dared not overstep, dared not entertain any wild ideas like keeping a card up his sleeve. Even if he had the means, he lacked the nerve—he did not even dare harbor feelings of resentment.

Though he had headed the Wude Office for nearly twenty years, did he truly have complete control over the entire office? On this point, he himself had no confidence. And how much of Emperor Liu's trust in him was held in reserve? This was something Li Chongju had never considered before; now, he dared not consider it.

Truth be told, Li Chongju was better suited to being a pure minister—as a bureaucrat, as a general, he could have been diligent and conscientious, devoted wholly to the sovereign's service, becoming a famed minister and renowned general of his generation.

But such was the fortune of his life: he had been pushed by Emperor Liu into the Wude Office, becoming a hawk and hound of mixed reputation, entangled in disputes and controversy, and in the end, his safety hung in the balance. Yet, back then, why had Emperor Liu chosen him if not out of trust and regard? It was not as if just anyone could be swapped in and still set Emperor Liu's mind at ease.

In fact, as far as Emperor Liu was concerned, he truly did not hold much prejudice against Li Chongju, nor much anger—he still trusted him. Perhaps in Emperor Liu's view, the temper he had shown and the anger he had displayed were merely about the matters at hand.

But the emotions and opinions he revealed often signaled shifts in his thinking—sometimes, even he himself did not notice.

And the cautious, sensitive Li Chongju had sensed it, and had come to the realization that he needed to extricate himself and avoid disaster, even though things were not that severe in Emperor Liu's eyes.

Of course, whether Li Chongju could act on his desire to retreat and protect himself ultimately depended on Emperor Liu. On this matter, Li Chongju still had little say. All he could do was complete his current duties well, then humbly beg the Emperor's benevolence to release him, to free him from his unease.

As for anything else, he truly could not do much—or rather, dared not do much, dared not say much. Otherwise, if he truly provoked Emperor Liu's suspicion, then self-preservation would directly become self-destruction.

He, Li Chongju, had come up through the Emperor's personal guard, with a close and deep relationship. And what of Duke Dingguo Zhang Yanwei back then? Hadn't he killed himself for no apparent reason? Li Chongju did not think himself any better than Zhang Yanwei...