Chapter 1380: Emperor Liu Marries Off His Daughter, Heavy with Political Significance

While the flames of war were reignited in the Western Regions and the situation was turbulent, thousands of li away, the capital Luoyang was in the season of warm spring breezes and blooming flowers. After the start of spring, following more than a month of adjustment, the central court led by Emperor Liu had finally gradually completed various matters of aftermath.

The aftereffects of the northern expedition were fully exposed and still ongoing, but the court's clear attitude of sheathing the sword and attending to governance was enough to settle the minds of all. As various policies and resolutions were issued and communicated, the state gradually adjusted, returned to the proper track, and began re-entering the stage of recovery and development.

After continuous busyness, the central court gradually returned to tranquility, with less haste and agitation, and more leisure and peace. After entering the second month, several joyous events occurred in the capital. Emperor Liu arranged marriages for his children one after another, using the joy of family affairs to comfort the hearts of his subjects.

First, Crown Prince Liu Yang took the daughter of Zhao Kuangyin as a consort. Then the Fifth Prince Liu Yun married, with the Empress and the Worthy Consort carefully selecting a fine match for him—naturally from a prestigious family: the granddaughter of the late chancellor, Duke of Ju, Li Tao.

That lad Liu Yun had been restless since childhood, and years ago had clamored for a lady of both talent and beauty. But when his turn actually came, he was extremely shy, even entering the bridal chamber with great reluctance, earning much teasing from relatives and friends.

By late February, the imperial house had another joyous event, but this time it was Emperor Liu marrying off his daughter. The eldest Princess, Liu Jia, who had turned eighteen, was wed. As the princess known throughout the court and beyond as Emperor Liu's most beloved, her marriage drew attention from all. When she finally left the palace for her wedding, it was conducted with great fanfare and spectacle.

For Emperor Liu, having his sons marry consorts was long since a familiar matter, nothing remarkable. But marrying off the beloved daughter he had raised for so many years was a first, and so it was conducted with exceptional solemnity. Its liveliness was probably second only to the Crown Prince's wedding back then.

To prepare for Liu Jia's wedding, Emperor Liu personally concerned himself with it, ordering the selection of a team of ritual officials from the Court of Sacrificial Worship and the Ministry of Rites to handle the arrangements exclusively. He specially allocated over a million strings of cash from the imperial treasury. The wedding ceremony was held in Guangde Hall of the Han Palace, and the master of ceremonies was personally undertaken by Chancellor Li Ye.

Emperor Liu's affection for the eldest Princess was evident for all to see. While this made the princes and princesses envious, it also drew even more jealous and hateful gazes toward the man the princess was marrying—Li Jilong.

What had Li Jilong done to deserve this? His family background was hardly among the top nobility of the Great Han. He had rendered some modest military merits on the battlefield, but had never stood out uniquely. As for ability, none of the qualified young elites of the Great Han nobility would admit to being inferior to him.

Especially since, when it was first announced that the Emperor and Empress were selecting a husband for the eldest Princess, quite a few people had been on the candidate list. Many sons of meritorious officials had entered the palace for the Princess to observe.

Everyone had once had a chance, but the flower fell upon one household. Her Highness the Princess had taken a fancy to this Li Jilong specifically—how could this not breed jealousy in others?

Of course, behind this grand wedding, more people saw that the Li Chuyun family would formally cross a threshold and ascend into the ranks of the Great Han's most elite noble families.

Compared to those nobles with dazzling military achievements, Li Chuyun had not produced many notable or praiseworthy accomplishments over the past twenty years. Although he had served as Commissioner of Military Affairs for a considerable time, it was also the result of the Emperor's vigorous promotion.

Of course, Li Chuyun's contributions to the Great Han were beyond doubt—it was just that ordinary people found them hard to recognize, often overlooking those diligent, unheralded labors and toils.

Moreover, Emperor Liu's radiance was simply too dazzling. No matter how loyal and dutiful the civil and military officials were, under the Emperor's brilliant glow, they would be overshadowed, diminished, and easily ignored.

Thus, without solid military achievements, it was very difficult to gain recognition or win over the masses, and Li Chuyun was a fairly representative example of this.

Had it not been for Emperor Liu's consideration and his inward acknowledgment of Li Chuyun's merits, Li Chuyun might have faded away in obscurity like many civil and military figures who had held high office and wielded great power in the Great Han's military and political affairs over the past twenty-plus years, leaving only faint traces in the glorious and magnificent history of the Great Han's founding, with later generations able to find only fragments of mention in the historical records.

However, things had already reached this point—Li Jilong's marriage to the Princess was a settled matter. No amount of envy would help, and one had to put on a smiling face, prepare gifts, and offer congratulations.

Of course, beyond this, it also allowed more clever and perceptive people to discern some of Emperor Liu's intentions, to understand his attitude toward meritorious officials and nobles. That attitude was: forming marriage ties with meritorious officials, deepening connections with the nobility.

In recent years, some unflattering rumors had appeared in the court regarding meritorious officials, claiming that the noble class had grown too large, their treatment too generous, and the cost of supporting them too extravagant, placing an enormous burden on the court.

Especially after this northern expedition, with the treasury depleted and state finances in difficulty, some had raised again the idea of reducing noble treatment, controlling the distribution of salaries and grain rations, and lightening the court's financial burden. This had both provoked dissatisfaction among meritorious nobles and made them uneasy.

Where there is smoke, there is fire. The fact that it had escalated to such a clamorous level recently clearly meant someone was pushing it, and whoever dared to confront the massive noble bloc was evidently no ordinary person behind the scenes.

And that person, as many knew, was the chancellor Zhao Pu, who sat in the Hall of State Affairs wielding the power of the Great Han government. Some with sharp sources of information had learned that Zhao Pu had once sought a private audience with Emperor Liu, and the sovereign and minister had spoken in secret for over an hour. What exactly they discussed was unknown, but vague intelligence suggested that Zhao Pu had begun directing the spearhead of political reform at the noble bloc, with most of his memorials relating to restraining the nobility.

This situation had already caused enormous waves in the court. If it were true, then what had previously been mere verbal rumors would now become something Zhao Pu seemed to be putting into action.

It had to be said that Zhao Pu's courage and ambition were truly extraordinary. Striking at the noble bloc was something ordinary people might not even dare to imagine. One had to understand that although this class was riddled with factions and constant disputes, it was still the same class—macrocosmically speaking, one bloc—and Zhao Pu seemed to be targeting the entire class.

Offending one person, five, or even ten people was not a terribly serious matter. But offending an entire class—and the most powerful class in the Great Han, with influence reaching throughout military and civil affairs—one could imagine what difficulties and dangers would follow.

One had to understand that the Great Han's noble class had been essentially brought into being by Emperor Liu himself. Although it was accompanied by suspicion and suppression, restrictions and compromises, overall Emperor Liu still valued this class greatly. He had racked his brains, made several adjustments, and formulated a complete system of noble ranks, precisely so that this class would become the maintainer of the Great Han regime, viewing it as the foundation of his Liu family's dynasty.

Within this class were not only meritorious nobles but also Emperor Liu's relatives and old friends. If Zhao Pu wanted to suppress them, the first person he might offend would be Emperor Liu himself.

Of course, toward the Great Han's nobles—especially the most prominent among them—they actually harbored a certain contempt for Zhao Pu's political intentions.

Never mind that Zhao Pu currently enjoyed the Emperor's deep trust, held the great power of a chief minister, sat high in the Hall of State Affairs, and was imposing in every way. If he truly offended everyone and they united to attack him and drive him from power, it would not be a terribly difficult matter.

It was just that Emperor Liu was watching from above, so no one dared rashly go that far—otherwise it would be challenging Emperor Liu's authority. But there was always a limit; they too had their bottom line. Their vital interests had not yet been infringed upon, so they all held back, sitting back to watch how the situation developed, to see what kind of restrictive policies Zhao Pu would ultimately brew up.

Therefore, what the nobles truly worried about and truly feared was still the Emperor Liu who sat high above. No matter how actively Zhao Pu pushed, in many people's eyes he was just scurrying about and stirring up trouble. But if the Emperor were bewitched by him, deceived by him, that would be the real problem.

Moreover, in the past days, Emperor Liu had never expressed his stance, and had even held private talks with Zhao Pu—this could not help but make people add a few more measures of caution and vigilance.

And recently, whether Emperor Liu was taking in daughters-in-law or marrying off daughters, he still chose descendants of the nobility. This seemed to represent an attitude—and it was also a goodwill signal.

Emperor Liu's children had long been coveted by the ministers and high officials below. And as the princes and princesses gradually grew up and reached marriageable age, they became even more attentive.

Marrying into the imperial family was advantageous to them in every respect—both a reflection of status and a protective talisman. No matter how the political situation changed in the future, as imperial relatives, as long as one did not court death, one would basically never be targeted.

And seeing the spectacle of Li Jilong marrying the eldest Princess Liu Jia made the ministers and nobles even more eager. Emperor Liu's children were simply too numerous—for the nobles with the qualifications, even if it were dividing up fruits, the opportunities were not few...