Chapter 1712: Zhao Pu

"The Chancellor has taken a fall. From what I can see, there's no serious injury, but at his advanced age, with bones brittle and prone to breaking, recovery will be slow. He needs to rest quietly and must not overexert himself!" At the Zhao residence, in the rear chambers, before the sickbed, the old imperial physician, with a kindly expression, respectfully knelt on the bed platform, addressing Zhao Pu, who kept supporting his aged back.

"Much obliged!" Zhao Pu now fully exuded the air of an invalid, his voice carrying an endless weariness.

As Chief Chancellor, having been injured, it was only natural for Emperor Liu to send imperial physicians to diagnose and prescribe medicine—this was the basic treatment afforded to a "favored minister."

"Chancellor, you flatter me—this is my duty!" said the physician. "In a moment I'll write out a prescription; take the medicine as directed for recuperation, and I'll leave one physician in residence to attend to you. After some days of rest, there should be no cause for concern!"

Hearing this, Zhao Pu showed a slight smile and, looking at the old physician, asked, "You say this injury of mine will take time to heal—might I ask how long exactly?"

The physician assumed Zhao Pu was worried about recovering slowly, so he weighed his words and said, "For injuries to sinews and bones, three months of rest is generally needed. Given the Chancellor's advanced years, it may take longer for a full recovery. However, resuming governance a bit earlier should be no problem!"

Zhao Pu shook his head and said, "What I mean is, it's fine if this ailment heals slowly—it needs an even longer period of rest!"

The physician couldn't help but pause, looking at Zhao Pu in puzzlement, only to hear Zhao Pu say slowly, "In my view, at least half a year, at most a year. To others, you should say the same. What do you think?"

How could he not catch on? Though he didn't know what Zhao Pu was really up to, since there was clearly deeper intent, he, a mere imperial physician, dared not defy the wishes of this powerful chancellor.

Therefore, after a brief deliberation, he cupped his hands and said, "This old man understands the Chancellor's meaning! But in that case, the prescription will need some adjustment—the severity of the illness dictates a different course of medicine!"

"Very good! Much obliged!" Zhao Pu smiled knowingly and wiggled his fingers at the steward standing in attendance.

The steward understood at once, immediately summoning servants and personally presenting two ingots of silver. Seeing this, the physician shook his head repeatedly: "This old man came on imperial orders to make a diagnosis—how could I dare accept gifts? Chancellor, this is improper!"

Zhao Pu smiled at this and said, "This old man's wealth is not great; this is but a modest token, pray don't laugh. A small gesture of appreciation—please don't refuse!"

The physician still refused, declining again and again, until Zhao Pu had his men forcibly stuff the silver into the medicine box. The physician, left with no choice and unable to out-stubborn the chancellor's will, had to accept with a face of "embarrassed gratitude."

Silver, as a precious-metal currency, held great value and strong purchasing power. Even though it had depreciated somewhat over the years due to the large-scale mining of domestic silver mines and the influx of gold and silver from Goryeo, Japan, and the South Seas, one tael of silver could still be exchanged for over twelve hundred copper coins.

And that hundred taels of silver was a veritable fortune for the imperial physician. Zhao Pu's claim of "modest wealth" clearly needed to be taken with a grain of salt. In the past, Zhao Pu might have exercised some restraint in matters of money, but in the past year, he had seen substantial income and had begun to enjoy the finer things in life.

To call Zhao Pu incorruptible would be to defile the word. It was simply that, in the past, in Zhao Pu's eyes, power outweighed wealth. To preserve his authority and stay in Emperor Liu's good graces, he naturally restrained his family and practiced self-discipline.

Now, however, he had somewhat let himself go. Of course, some of it might carry the intent of deliberately tarnishing his own reputation for self-preservation, but which motive was his true heart was impossible to distinguish. Zhao Pu was never a traditional upright minister to begin with.

As for corruption—the target of the court's long-standing policy on official conduct—was Zhao Pu afraid? Naturally not. Such matters needed to be viewed dialectically. The court's anti-corruption campaigns mainly targeted the beasts of burden in the middle and lower ranks. Once one reached a certain position, power was the best amulet.

At Zhao Pu's level, the only person he needed to worry about was Emperor Liu. As for whether Emperor Liu would impeach him over such a "trivial matter," Zhao Pu wasn't overly concerned—because if the Emperor truly wanted to go after him, being spotlessly clean wouldn't help anyway. Nor did Zhao Pu need a reputation for purity to prove himself.

And Lu Duoxun was a clear example—so much evidence of wrongdoing had been uncovered, yet the most critical item never appeared in the case files. For Zhao Pu, it was the same: the most important thing was not to touch upon Emperor Liu's taboos.

On this point, Zhao Pu's sense of proportion was precise. By the twenty-first year of Kaibao, still occupying the chancellorship was itself the greatest taboo—this was something to be avoided. Everything else was a minor matter, and could even work to curious effect.

And this year, Zhao Pu had racked his brains, making several attempts to seek retirement and preserve himself. It had to be said that taking that fall in Chongzheng Hall was worth exploiting—part accident, part inevitability.

After the imperial physician left, Zhao Pu slowly sat up, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. He had indeed been hurt in the fall; as for how serious it was, he knew in his heart. Staring blankly at the outdoors, feeling the cold air continuously seeping in, he sat in silence for a long while, then heaved a heavy sigh. At this moment, his heart felt somewhat hollow, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of melancholy.

If he truly wound down and spent his days with a sickbed and medicine pots, he imagined he certainly wouldn't be used to it. Power is a fine thing—anyone who has tasted it knows. Even a minor clerk feels this way, let alone a chancellor.

"Father!" As he sat lost in thought, Zhao Pu's second son, Zhao Chengxu, walked in. Seeing his old father in such a state of decline, he called out softly.

Snapping back to attention, Zhao Pu felt he shouldn't be sitting like this and turned to lie back down. Seeing this, Zhao Chengxu hurried forward to help support him. Once lying down, Zhao Pu asked, "Is the memorial written?"

Zhao Chengxu nodded and hastily presented the memorial in his hands, saying, "I've drafted it according to your requirements, Father. Your son's literary skill is crude, and I fear there may be omissions—please review and correct it, Father."

Zhao Pu took it, spread it before his eyes, and read through it carefully. His brows soon knitted together, and he said, "It does need revision—major revision! This memorial of yours is less a resignation and more a eulogy to my merits. It goes against my original intent, and it's not what His Majesty would want to see!"

"But Father has been chancellor for nearly twenty years, diligent and devoted—you truly have rendered service to the state. Must these be avoided?" Zhao Chengxu was puzzled. "Even when seeking retirement, shouldn't there be some dignity?"

Hearing this, Zhao Pu chuckled: "My merits and faults will be judged by posterity. His Majesty knows them well in his heart. No one needs to point them out, and least of all should we bring them up ourselves!"

"If not recounting merits, then should we recount faults?" Zhao Chengxu muttered.

"Exactly!" Zhao Pu's answer startled Zhao Chengxu. "In my governance, there have been no small number of errors and omissions. At this time, it would be fitting to highlight the matter of the northwestern rebellion. Someone must step forward to take responsibility, and no one is more suitable than me!"

Zhao Chengxu seemed somewhat bewildered by all this. After thinking it over, he cupped his hands and said, "A son does not speak of his father's faults. If it comes to that, I fear I cannot write it!"

Zhao Chengxu was expressing his filial piety—exposing his old father's shortcomings clearly gave him moral qualms and psychological burden.

Seeing his reaction, Zhao Pu was caught between laughter and tears: "Where did you learn such pedantry? Are you asking your father to endure his injuries and take up the brush himself?"

"This…" Zhao Chengxu hesitated, then bowed again: "Please forgive your son's unfilial conduct!"

"It's not nearly so serious—just do as your father instructs!" Zhao Pu said.

"Yes!"

What Zhao Pu didn't know was that after returning to the palace, the imperial physician went to see Emperor Liu and reported Zhao Pu's condition truthfully, even presenting the hundred taels of silver Zhao Pu had given him. In response, Emperor Liu's reaction was worth pondering—he almost laughed it off, and told the physician to keep the hundred taels as a gift from Emperor Liu himself.

They were all foxes of a thousand years—Zhao Pu's intent was clear as day to Emperor Liu. Now that the court had gradually stabilized after the upheaval of the Lu case, and the new power structure had been tested for so long without apparent problems…

That fall did seem to be a good opportunity. And the very next day, Zhao Chengxu was ordered to enter the palace to meet the Emperor, presenting on his father's behalf that memorial of resignation, seeking to retire on account of old age.

This time, Emperor Liu was very decisive—without the slightest attempt to retain him, he approved on the spot. However, mindful of Zhao Pu's past contributions, Emperor Liu let him retire in grand style, bestowing upon him the title of Marquis of Xunyang. He neither sent him back to his hometown nor kept him in the capital, but found him a place to retire in Jiangdong.

And so, quite suddenly, Zhao Pu, the powerful chancellor of the Kaibao era, officially became history.