Chapter 1582: What Virtue or Ability Do I, Zhao Kuangyin, Possess?
Autumn wind and autumn rain sadden the soul, but in this autumn of the thirteenth year of Kaibao, Emperor Liu did not feel that way. Perhaps in the past he had always been melancholy when autumn came, and his moaning without illness had been somewhat excessive. Therefore, by this year, Emperor Liu decided to change his mood and live more freely.
While the civil and military ministers at the court's center steadily and intensively pushed forward military system reform, Emperor Liu remained in the Han palace, appearing very relaxed. For him, since the major policies were set, detailed implementation plans existed, specific responsible officials were appointed, and heavyweights of military affairs like Zhao Pu and Cao Bin personally supervised, the remaining matters did not require him to cling to them—just checking in periodically sufficed.
Thus, in the days before the Mid-Autumn Festival, Emperor Liu lived very freely—each day at leisure, practicing calligraphy, reading books, listening to history, and spending time with his children.
From time to time, he summoned meritorious officials and nobles into the palace to keep him company, drinking wine, chatting, discoursing on past and present, and speaking freely about the realm. Naturally, those summoned were basically old ministers and old generals who had retired to the second line and held no substantive posts in court, such as Guo Wei, Fu Yanqing, Xiang Xun, Wang Quanbin, Zhao Kuangyin, Wang Yansheng, and others.
Monarch and ministers chatting about everything under heaven and reminiscing about the glorious past was a great pleasure—though of course, this was only true from Emperor Liu's personal perspective. In the present day, no one could communicate with Emperor Liu with ease; throughout the entire realm, only Empress Fu could "normally" speak frankly, but even Empress Fu had to mind her attitude and tone.
In Emperor Liu's view, these meritorious nobles had retreated behind the scenes, perhaps suffering some emotional hurt, so he personally entertained them, showed concern, comforted their hearts, and expressed closeness, indicating that neither he nor the court had forgotten them.
On the other hand, Emperor Liu, now at leisure, was quite concerned about what these noble meritorious officials were actually doing after stepping down. Although secret agencies were keeping watch, that was ultimately secondhand information, and the ministers had also grown clever—no matter how pervasive the Palace City Office was, after so many years of adaptation, they had long learned how to cope, making complete surveillance difficult.
Moreover, Emperor Liu always maintained reservations about secondhand information, never trusting it blindly. Some situations required his personal, firsthand experience to understand. Whether cautious or suspicious, this was his consistent style.
Of course, the result might merely be seeking a self-deceiving peace of mind—the hardest thing to measure is the human heart, and Emperor Liu did not truly possess eyes that saw through everything. And as for this "concern" of Emperor Liu's, even Wang Yansheng had learned to behave, let alone those nobles seasoned in the ways of the world.
Those who had retreated behind the scenes were either old or ill, but only Zhao Kuangyin was the most exceptional—he was in the prime of life, with no major health problems, yet he had no choice but to sink into obscurity.
Before the Kaibao northern expedition, perhaps it could still be called a normal "rotation rest"—after recuperating for a period, there would still be a chance of being reactivated, as evidenced by his role as commander of the eastern route army during the northern expedition.
But since the Kaibao northern expedition ended, Zhao Kuangyin had essentially entered a state of complete retirement. No matter how things appeared on the surface or how others viewed it, in Emperor Liu's eyes, Zhao Kuangyin had been completely discarded.
Multiple factors had caused this. First, Consort Zhao had entered the Eastern Palace and given birth to the Crown Prince's only son. Second, there was Zhao Kuangyi—if Emperor Liu wanted to use him, he necessarily had to restrict Zhao Kuangyin. Brothers and fathers and sons serving at court together was not uncommon in the Great Han—for example, the Lü brothers, Lü Yin and Lü Duan, or the once-famous Five Dragons of the Dou clan—but they were all civil officials, not comparable.
Third, and most importantly and fundamentally, was the "historical" factor. In the past, Emperor Liu had been confident, even arrogant, feeling he could grasp the cosmos and command all heroes. Whatever "emperors, kings, generals, and ministers" they were, he dared to use them boldly, and to a certain extent achieved using them without suspicion.
But with age, that mentality gradually dissipated, replaced by suspicion and overthinking. For Emperor Liu, the Zhao brothers were naturally the most worthy of suspicion, after all, taking "history" as a mirror.
Why does an emperor become suspicious when he grows old? It is not just a change in mentality, but also the aging of the body, which makes him feel his control is slipping, even doubting himself. The more brilliant the ruler, the more this is so—past confidence often becomes arrogance in later years.
Emperor Liu seemed to be gradually developing in that direction, and with him at leisure, overthinking and over-worrying was hardly surprising. He also had ample time to pay attention to these matters.
Emperor Liu maintained vigilance and suspicion, and the result was that Zhao Kuangyin's political career had basically come to an end. Even if his status was prominent, his influence remained, and he still bore the title of Grand Academician of the Inner Cabinet, it all meant nothing—without real power, he could hardly be called a true man.
As for such circumstances, it would be impossible to say Zhao Kuangyin had no thoughts in his heart, no complaints. For a hero with long-held ambitions, being shelved early with no place to display his talents could be called a tragedy.
At Chongzheng Hall, Zhao Kuangyin respectfully withdrew, walking with slow steps down the imperial stairs and leaving the palace. His face still bore traces of obvious drunkenness, but his steps were steady, while his expression revealed slight bitterness, and even his sighs were silent.
Emperor Liu had summoned him for drinking again. Although Zhao Kuangyin's love of wine was well known, drinking with the emperor grew increasingly bitter, increasingly dull, and increasingly uneasy.
In fact, Zhao Kuangyin had felt quite depressed these past few years. When examining himself, he could not help falling into self-doubt. He was puzzled—among so many meritorious nobles, why did the emperor single him out?
If in the past all of Emperor Liu's wariness and vigilance had been hidden in his heart, then judging from recent years, traces had already begun to show. Others might not know, but Zhao Kuangyin himself clearly and truly felt it.
For a period, Zhao Kuangyin thought Emperor Liu was merely suppressing and restraining the meritorious noble faction—after all, he was considered a figurehead among the nobles—but later he discovered that it truly was targeting only him, Zhao Kuangyin. And this targeting was indeed somewhat heavy for Zhao Kuangyin to bear.
What Zhao Kuangyin could never reconcile was that in terms of merit, seniority, and prestige, he was not unique among the nobles. Without the command record of the Kaibao northern expedition, his reputation would be a grade lower—at least he could not stand shoulder to shoulder with Murong Yanzhao and Guo Rong.
As for the status of imperial relatives, there were still many active in the Great Han's military and political spheres. Gao Huaide had only recently been transferred to Andong to serve as Deputy to Prince Liu Xu of Qin. And in terms of background and battle achievements, Zhao Kuangyin did not think he could surpass Gao Huaide.
And carefully recalling the past, Zhao Kuangyin also realized that Emperor Liu had always paid special attention to him—from a mid-to-low-ranking officer in the imperial army, he had been promoted to the imperial bodyguard, and later repeatedly promoted and entrusted with important tasks. The extraordinary promotions and rank jumps could originally have been taken as Emperor Liu cherishing talent, but now it seemed the fundamental reason was that special "attention."
Back then, Emperor Liu had been wary of Guo Wei and had him retire early to return home—that was understandable, since Emperor Liu's position had not been stable at the time, and he had used measures against all the founding meritorious officials.
Even Murong Yanzhao and Guo Rong, known as the contemporary Duke Wei and Duke Ying, had reputations that always exceeded his own, yet Emperor Liu consistently showed them trust.
This was what Zhao Kuangyin found most incomprehensible—what virtue or ability did he, Zhao Kuangyin, possess?
Of course, what Zhao Kuangyin did not know was that if Guo Rong's health had been better, or if he had lived a few more years, his days would not have been much better than Zhao Kuangyin's...
End of Chapter
