Chapter 1635: Realizing Too Late, Fearing Too Late

Under the dimming lantern light, the surface of the Bian River was a riot of colors, the water rippling and shimmering—dazzling even in the darkness. A light skiff came silently, and silently departed. Wang Yinwu sat alone at the prow, draped in a black robe, his eyes fixed blankly on the water.

At this moment, his mood was as turbulent as the river's surface, and he felt himself like the light boat on these waters—drifting with the current, unable to be free.

Tonight's meeting with Lu Duoxun had opened Wang Yinwu's eyes, but it had also filled him with deep dread. A wave of fear surged over him; the more he pondered, the more terrified he became.

He had known Lu Duoxun for nearly thirty years, and had always felt he understood the man well enough. Lu Duoxun's impression on him had been one of shrewdness and arrogance—but tonight, he had seen the true Lu Duoxun.

Lu Duoxun's discourse had thoroughly upended some of Wang Yinwu's understandings—about the court, about the Emperor, and about himself.

In the past, Wang Yinwu had felt himself important, had considered himself a man of consequence—the dignified Commissioner of the Wude Office, in charge of the Great Han's most formidable intelligence apparatus.

Yet, shaken by Lu Duoxun's words, Wang Yinwu now suddenly realized that he might merely be a tool in Lu Duoxun's scheme to bring down Zhao Pu.

Within the Wude Office, his word was law, and he could boss people around at will. But in the eyes of the court, his weight was truly insignificant, and he had no real voice.

And now, he was already deeply mired in it. Before, he might not have felt much concern—he had even thought himself clever, with an ally he could rely upon.

But now, Wang Yinwu was truly afraid. Especially under Lu Duoxun's "brainwashing"-like explanations, he felt even more alarmed.

Wang Yinwu supported Lu Duoxun's efforts to topple Zhao Pu. Their personal relationship was secondary; the main reason was the pressure he had been under these years—not just from the Palace City Office, but from the court as well. And the court, on the surface, was dominated by Zhao Pu.

But if he were to openly raise his banner and oppose Zhao Pu, Wang Yinwu could not help but feel a twinge of cowardice. Of course, more importantly, it depended on Emperor Liu's attitude.

And the mere thought of Emperor Liu made Wang Yinwu's unease even heavier. He, the Commissioner of the Wude Office, had been colluding with Lu Duoxun in this manner, and the Wude Office was gradually becoming a tool of court factional strife, drawn into the struggle over the chancellor's power. He had overlooked this before, but now that he had come to his senses, that inexplicable dread could not be suppressed no matter how hard he tried.

Turning around suddenly, Wang Yinwu for the first time clearly recognized that he had committed a taboo—and a fatal one at that!

At this juncture, if Lu Duoxun launched his "campaign against Zhao" and succeeded, so be it. But what if he failed? Though Lu Duoxun spoke with confident certainty, in Wang Yinwu's view, Lu Duoxun did not have full assurance either.

And once the plot failed, Lu Duoxun would come to no good end—and if he were dragged into it, his own fate would likely be even more miserable than Lu Duoxun's. Because he, too, had committed a grave crime: the crime of deceiving the sovereign. When a Commissioner of the Wude Office commits the crime of deceiving the Emperor, one can well imagine what the outcome would be.

Was Zhao Pu so easy to deal with? And what of Zhao Kuangyi, whom Lu Duoxun had mentioned, and the maternal relatives and meritorious nobles he spoke of—how much help could those people really provide?

Most importantly, what was the Emperor's attitude? Was His Majesty's mind so easy to read? If he truly harbored dissatisfaction with Zhao Pu, wasn't Lu Duoxun being too presumptuous?

The deeper he thought, the more he considered, the more terrified Wang Yinwu became. Sweat beads slid unconsciously from his forehead, and veins bulged visibly. Suddenly throwing aside the curtain that shielded him, Wang Yinwu twisted around and peered back. That painted pleasure boat still floated quietly on the river, its lights dim and indistinct—but Wang Yinwu couldn't shake the feeling that Lu Duoxun was still leaning against the railing, watching his little skiff.

At this moment, Wang Yinwu truly had the urge to turn the boat around, go back to see Lu Duoxun, and earnestly persuade him. Brother Lu, let's not stir up trouble. You be your chancellor, I'll be my commissioner—enjoying wealth and honor together. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

But he soon abandoned this impulsive thought. He knew something of what kind of man Lu Duoxun was; if he could be so easily dissuaded, then he wouldn't be Lu Duoxun.

Moreover, after so much scheming and preparation, with so many things arranged—even with some concealment—how could it be perfectly seamless? Now, Lu Duoxun might have his arrow already on the string, and he, Wang Yinwu, was equally on the back of a tiger, unable to dismount.

Once aboard Lu Duoxun's ship, how could one easily get off? Wang Yinwu was already deeply trapped, unable to extricate himself. Perhaps this was also why Lu Duoxun dared to speak so candidly with him.

And thinking of Lu Duoxun's behavior just now—on the one hand, it was to reassure him; on the other, it was not without a warning. They were grasshoppers tied to the same rope; neither could escape.

The human heart was always the hardest thing to fathom. Wang Yinwu and Lu Duoxun—the moment before, they had been drinking and laughing together; the next moment, they were already drifting apart in heart and loyalty.

From disembarking at the shore to riding home in his carriage, Wang Yinwu kept a gloomy face the entire time—now anxious, now absent-minded. The carriage sped lightly over Kaifeng's flat stone-paved streets, making crisp sounds as it wound through several neighborhoods. When it was nearly at Wang Yinwu's residence, he suddenly called out: "Stop!"

The driver reined in the horses, and a mounted attendant rode up to await instructions. Wang Yinwu gave no orders for a moment, hiding inside the carriage, hesitating for a long while. A trace of struggle appeared on his face. Finally, he said in a deep voice: "Go to Chancellor Zhao's residence!"

Zhao Pu's residence was located in Yankang Ward, southwest of the imperial city, very close to the Inner Palace. It was a gift from Emperor Liu, to facilitate Zhao Pu's comings and goings to the imperial city for official business.

The residence of the reigning chancellor naturally had a distinctive style and bearing. Though not overly extravagant or ostentatious, it exuded authority—a grand gate and great household that inspired admiration.

Though it was deep into the night, several carriages could still be faintly seen under the lights before the gate. From morning till night, there was never a shortage of visitors calling at the door. Even though most people could hardly get to see Zhao Pu, or even cross the threshold, the enthusiasm of those seeking an audience had never been extinguished.

Wang Yinwu's carriage stopped at the end of the street. He gazed from afar at the front of Zhao's residence, his brows slightly furrowed, hesitation once again showing on his face.

"Commissioner, shall we go to the side gate?" an attendant suggested considerately.

Wang Yinwu opened his mouth but said nothing in reply. He raised his hand, then quickly lowered it again, hesitating and wavering. After a long while, he turned his head away and said sternly: "Never mind! Turn around, back home!"

The attendant was somewhat surprised, but sensing Wang Yinwu's clearly foul mood, he dared not ask more and respectfully acknowledged: "Yes!"

The carriage moved along leisurely, its wheels rolling heavily over the ground—heavy enough to match Wang Yinwu's own weighty mood. When they returned to the residence, this time Wang Yinwu got out of the carriage. But beneath the plaque over the gate, he could not help stopping again.

Pacing back and forth, after a complex psychological struggle—biting his lip until it nearly bled—Wang Yinwu finally seemed to make up his mind. He muttered under his breath: "Brother Lu, I'm afraid I'll have to say sorry to you..."