Chapter 1718: Era of Shared Rule

Just after the Winter Solstice—the most important festival of the winter season—this year carried a bit more gloom than in years past, the reason naturally being the Yulin rebellion. Of course, this was only true for the upper echelons of the court, or rather, the Hall of State Affairs and the officials in departments related to pacification matters; amid their busyness, even the festival held little flavor.

As for the middle and lower classes, they went about their days as usual, singing their songs and dancing their dances. Though the court had some control over the news of the Yulin rebellion, it inevitably leaked out, but as for whether it caused any great impact—that was not yet apparent.

At least for the citizens of the Eastern Capital, it was even more a matter of no concern. Yulin was too far away—even if it fell into chaos, could it spread all the way to the Eastern Capital? Besides, over these years, from south to north, how few were the rebellions and disturbances? And which one had ever succeeded? This time, at most it was making a louder fuss, and sooner or later it would be pacified by the court.

In over thirty years, from chaos to governance, the words "Great Han" had long been deeply rooted in people's hearts. It had not only established the people's identification with the current court but also built up sufficiently strong confidence.

Moreover, while Emperor Liu still ruled the state, no one would think there were waves that the great ship of the Great Han could not ride through. Of course, beneath the feet of the Son of Heaven, the streets and alleys could not be completely indifferent—rumors inevitably arose, but mostly as fodder for jest.

In the taverns and book houses, the storytellers could hardly avoid touching on the matter, but they all tactfully followed the central themes of the official gazette issued by the Pacification Commission, vehemently denouncing the Yulin rebels while also engaging in some smearing of the Tangut and the Tuoba Li clan. Last year's extermination of the Li clan was dragged out and flogged again, recounted with evident relish.

"Prince Zhao has handled this matter well. The Yulin rebels naturally must be resolutely eradicated, but it should not be painted with one brush. As for those ordinary commoners who fled in distress, they should be screened and given relief!" Crown Prince Liu Yang's hearty laughter rang out from the Hall of State Affairs, his words full of praise for Prince Zhao, Liu Fang.

Setting down the measures for handling Yulin refugees submitted by Prince Zhao, Liu Fang, Liu Yang's face wore a relieved smile not seen in a long time. Clearly, he genuinely approved of Liu Fang's measures to save the people and made no attempt to hide his attitude.

"However, according to reports on public sentiment from various regions, the local authorities within the passes have shown considerable resistance to Prince Zhao's proposal!" Zhao Kuangyi stood to one side, calmly reporting to Liu Yang.

At these words, Liu Yang's expression immediately darkened. After a pause, he burst out: "Some people are truly detestable! I imagine they're even using the court's bandit-suppression strategy as an excuse to shirk responsibility!"

Zhao Kuangyi replied expressionlessly: "Your Highness sees clearly!"

After a moment of silence, Liu Yang looked up at Zhao Kuangyi: "On this matter, what does Chancellor Zhao think?"

After Zhao Pu left office, there was no obvious change in the personnel of the Hall of State Affairs—the people were still the same people, but beneath the calm surface, those profound changes were indeed unavoidable.

A chancellor who had served for nearly twenty years stepping down—what kind of impact would that have on the central government? Merely by virtue of that length of tenure, it deserved respect. The reason the transition could proceed smoothly was, first, Emperor Liu keeping watch from above; second, the Crown Prince overseeing from the middle; and third, those below having more or less anticipated it.

It must be said that while the Yulin disturbance was at its height, the enormous shift in power at the central court did produce some negative effects. At the very least, a large wave of bureaucrats, finding Zhao Pu gone from above, were somewhat unaccustomed to it, and this even caused some delays in the handling of government affairs.

Of course, bureaucrats have extremely strong adaptive abilities. After a brief period of confusion, everything quickly returned to the proper track. The court's various statutes and institutions were still quite complete—human factors were certainly important, but rules were equally important. The Great Han of today would not develop major problems merely because any one person was missing. Well, Emperor Liu and the Crown Prince were exceptions.

At the same time, Zhao Pu's departure concerned not only himself but also meant that the political forces of his faction would be affected, and the political resources he had accumulated over twenty years were correspondingly undergoing changes unknown to outsiders.

To put it more broadly, it could even affect the interests of the entire class of commoner-officials. After all, over the past twenty years, in the restriction and suppression of the meritorious aristocracy, Zhao Pu had been a banner displayed prominently on the stage.

And after Zhao Pu's departure, too many people within the court—including both the meritorious aristocracy and the bureaucrats—simultaneously saw more opportunities. The cake was only so big; in the past, Zhao Pu was strong, and with the support of the Emperor and the Crown Prince, he naturally enjoyed it to the full.

Now, with the man gone, the tea grows cold. His influence certainly remained, but its gradual weakening was an inevitable trend. All were gluttonous feasters on meat; it was time for others to take their turn.

In the past month or so, the atmosphere in the Hall of State Affairs had also undergone some obvious changes. Waves rose on the blue sea, ripples spread across the still pond. The key question: after Zhao Pu, who would succeed him?

Who wouldn't want the position of Chief Chancellor? At the very least, Crown Prince Liu Yang knew that the Zhao Kuangyi before him desperately coveted that position. When Zhao Pu was alive, all the ministers lay low; after Lu Duoxun's death, no one dared to raise a banner openly against him.

But the times had changed. Emperor Liu had moved away a great mountain, and even stagnant water could stir with ripples—let alone a place of right and wrong like the court.

Regarding the selection of the new Chief Chancellor, Liu Yang could not help but pay attention, even giving it some thought, and for this he had directly asked Emperor Liu's opinion. And Emperor Liu's answer was somewhat thought-provoking.

Emperor Liu's exact words were: "There is only one Zhao Pu. The Great Han does not need a new Zhao Pu, and neither do you."

Liu Yang felt he had gained something, but at first he still did not understand. It was only with the help of Consort Xiao's analysis that he gradually came around. After the glorious yet far-from-peaceful twenty years of Kaibao, neither Emperor Liu nor the court needed another powerful chancellor in the mold of Zhao Pu. This was not a healthy state of affairs; power long held inevitably breeds abuses. Emperor Liu was also growing old—while he was here, he could keep things in check; if he were gone, Liu Yang could still manage; but after Liu Yang, everything would be unknown.

Therefore, Zhao Pu's style of governance could only remain a special case. After Zhao Pu, another such figure must never be allowed to appear—this could even be written into the ancestral laws and imperial code.

Of course, the existence of the chancellorship was necessary. Emperor Liu would not, like Zhu Laoba, give up eating for fear of choking and abolish the chancellery system entirely. On the contrary, the powers of the Hall of State Affairs and the chancellors should be further delineated.

Perhaps it would not be like the Qianyou era, when a chancellor was swapped out every two or three years, but chancellors taking turns—"next year, it comes to my house"—would be a basic principle, with stability also being a necessary precondition.

And even if somewhat slow to realize it, Liu Yang became aware that the court was indeed about to turn over a new page. Zhao Pu's era of "monopolizing power" was thoroughly over; what was to come would be an era of collective governance by the chancellors.

At the same time, Liu Yang also had an unspoken feeling—that Emperor Liu had already begun laying the groundwork for what came after.

At this, Liu Yang also felt a surge of emotion. Previously, he had been considering which of the many chancellors in the Hall of State Affairs could bear that weight of a thousand jun. Because of Consort Zhao's connection, Liu Yang naturally favored Zhao Kuangyi in his heart—he was in the prime of life, experienced in government affairs, diligent and earnest—almost a perfect template for a chancellor.

But Liu Yang was also well aware that Zhao Kuangyi's chances of rising to the top were not great. Not to mention the reservations in his own heart, even Emperor Liu's side would not agree. On the contrary, in terms of seniority, ability, and prestige, Song Qi's chances were greater.

However, these deliberations, once Emperor Liu's attitude was laid out, formed only one conclusion: Liu Yang had been overthinking. But this was not without its benefits—namely, no one got the position, which allowed for greater balance.

Of course, a snake cannot move without a head, and the same applied in the Hall of State Affairs. There always needed to be a role that could make the final decision or coordinate and balance—the most suitable person for this role was none other than the Emperor, but for now, it fell upon Crown Prince Liu Yang.

This was caused by the special political circumstances of the founding emperor's era. Under normal circumstances, any other emperor would likely not grant the Crown Prince such enormous power.

Therefore, during the period after Zhao Pu's departure, Liu Yang bore great pressure and became even more cautious. At the same time, he was also busier. In the past, when Zhao Pu was in office, Liu Yang was not exactly at ease; now, having taken over Zhao Pu's responsibilities, he truly discovered that being chancellor like Zhao Pu was really no easy task.

Only by experiencing it firsthand could one's understanding be deeper.

Back in the Hall of State Affairs, returning to the issue of Yulin refugees, Zhao Kuangyi also timely expressed his stance: "Your servant ventures to speak frankly. When the court previously formulated its pacification strategy, it indeed did not give careful consideration to the many problems caused by the rebellion, including the refugees.

Now that the problem has already emerged, we should adapt to the circumstances and adjust in a timely manner. As long as the general direction remains unchanged, the specific implementation can be appropriately revised. Moreover, Prince Zhao has already proposed a workable plan. Suppressing the rebellion and saving the people are mutually reinforcing; on this matter, there should be no hesitation. As for those in the localities who raise objections, they should be punished for the crime of neglecting governance and harming the people!

The Yulin rebellion will naturally be resolved by the court. The concerns of the local authorities within the passes—their selfishness and narrow-mindedness—should be impeached and corrected. As Your Majesty has said, the northwest indeed requires deeper and more thorough rectification. Relying solely on rooting out corruption is still insufficient; perhaps this matter could be used to conduct an assessment of the officials in the northwest."

Hearing Zhao Kuangyi's discourse, even with Liu Yang's current depth of composure, he could not help but smile again. In the Hall of State Affairs today, distinctions of status and weight of power were still unavoidable; balance was always only relative.

Song Qi, that seasoned veteran minister, had his authority focused on the overall operation of the Great Han and its governance, essentially replacing most of Zhao Pu's former practical authority. Zhao Kuangyi, meanwhile, mainly assisted Liu Yang in handling state affairs, somewhat in the manner of a "cabinet secretary."

"As you say, let it be done accordingly. Issue an open edict, informing the circuits within the passes and the prefectures and counties of the northern regions within the passes, making arrangements for refugee relief. These people must be saved!" Liu Yang resumed a serious, even stern, expression: "Have the Censorate keep a close watch!"

After a moment's hesitation, Liu Yang added: "Also send a directive to Commissioner Li of the Wude Office!"

Toward the Wude Office, Liu Yang always maintained a measure of caution, but when it came to using it—it was truly handy.

"Prince Zhao is suppressing the rebellion in Yulin; we must not let such matters divert his energy!" Liu Yang sighed.