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Chapter 1844: Zhao Kuangyi Has a Bold Thought

~9 min read 1,730 words

Zhao Kuangyi had every reason to feel shattered. He had already accepted Zhao Pu's return after mulling it over for some time, and had prepared himself mentally. But the final honors and authority that Emperor Liu bestowed upon Zhao Pu still made Zhao Kuangyi's stomach churn with envy.

Even when Zhao Pu had served as Chief Chancellor back then, his highest title had only been Left Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs. Now he was directly appointed Director of State Affairs, a title that matched his actual standing. On top of that, he was to be given the additional title of Grand Academician of the Inner Cabinet, making him the first chancellor attached to the Hall of State Affairs to also bear the Grand Academician title since Emperor Liu had taken the throne.

Although the Inner Cabinet had been little more than an honorary post since its establishment, never truly serving to check the Hall of State Affairs, its political status and treatment were extremely high. Those who bore this title were invariably dukes, ministers, meritorious nobles, and pillars of the state—and not just any retired senior official was qualified for it.

Moreover, even without wielding real power or handling concrete affairs, one would still be an advisory minister to Emperor Liu, entitled to participate in deliberations on any matters of military importance, with a tangible influence on the court.

When Emperor Liu first established the Inner Cabinet, people had already studied this institution. The descriptions of its functions in the *Collected Statutes* were somewhat vague, but many could see that it effectively emulated the role of the old Chongzheng Academicians—a measure by Emperor Liu to balance the political landscape. The only difference was that those attending at Emperor Liu's side had changed from young men of shallow experience to meritorious ministers of established achievement, while their actual authority had been greatly curtailed.

And because Emperor Liu had delegated power for so long, the Inner Cabinet had gradually become a sinecure, and by now had completely devolved into an advisory role—and in reality, one that was consulted but not heeded. However, one key point was that the weight of authority did not entirely follow the letter of court regulations. Sometimes it depended on the emperor's will, which was far more important than rigid institutional rules—and the higher one stood at the apex of the power pyramid, the truer this became.

After all, the space at the top was narrow, and the emperor's influence and control were all the stronger. Take the Chief Chancellor, for instance: the Great Han had never formally established such a post. Neither the *Collected Statutes* nor the *General Compendium* contained any definition of the powers and authority of a Chief Chancellor in their expositions on the official system.

The Chief Chancellor of the Great Han existed only by virtue of Emperor Liu's attitude and a consensus formed through the court's daily workings. The court could appoint seven, nine, or even more chancellors, but who could become the foremost among all ministers, enjoying the richest share of chancellorial power, and who could harmonize with colleagues and assist the emperor in regulating the balance of yin and yang—all of this shifted according to Emperor Liu's will.

The relationship between the Inner Cabinet and the Hall of State Affairs was similar. Previously, when Emperor Liu had delegated administrative authority to the Crown Prince and the Hall of State Affairs, the Inner Cabinet was a hollow shell. But in the past two years, as Emperor Liu had begun to delve back into and even intervene in court affairs, the Inner Cabinet's power had grown once more. Now, besides Zhao Kuangyin, Xiang Xun, Li Hongwei, and a few other dukes and founding meritorious ministers bearing the Grand Academician title, Emperor Liu had newly added four Inner Cabinet Academicians to assist him in handling state affairs.

The trend of power shifting and rebalancing was already quite evident. At this juncture, Emperor Liu's intention in having Zhao Pu concurrently serve as Grand Academician of the Inner Cabinet was easy to divine—it was a declaration of trust in Zhao Pu and firm support for his reforms.

Such a situation was naturally unfavorable for Zhao Kuangyi. Zhao Pu was not like Song Qi, Li Fang, Wang Zhe, or Lü Duan. Zhao Kuangyi was especially wary of him—there was no possibility of suppressing him, and he could only deal with him with extreme caution.

Zhao Kuangyi, as chancellor, differed from the others in that he had no ministry directly under his charge. He had once been responsible for the Ministry of Justice and the Ministry of Works in succession, but both had been stripped from him during the adjustments of the past two years.

Therefore, at least for these past two years, Zhao Kuangyi had controlled no actual ministry, and the power in his hands was hardly secure. When Song Qi and Li Fang were in office, he could inquire into anything and even meddle, but with Zhao Pu back, he would likely be unable to interfere in anything at all.

Zhao Kuangyi could even imagine that in the years ahead, he would tremble under Zhao Pu's "tyranny," his talents going unused, his ambitions unfulfilled, and eventually being squeezed out of the court entirely.

Feeling the loss of power—that was the root cause of Zhao Kuangyi's psychological imbalance. Resentment, unwillingness, and even fear—for one who had tasted power, being forced to let it go was extremely painful, and could even make enemies unto life and death. Zhao Kuangyi was like this, and in truth, Zhao Pu was the same.

On the other hand, there was the appointment of Jin Prince Liu Xi, which was equally troublesome. Below the Emperor and the Crown Prince, Zhao Kuangyi had once been the number-two figure among those in power at court. Wang Zhe and Li Fang had been dismissed from their chancellorships one after another, and Zhao Pu had been restored—yet his own ranking had moved backward rather than forward. What kind of reasoning was that? Setting aside Liu Xi's talent and prestige, no matter how confident Zhao Kuangyi was, he dared not claim he could outrank the Jin Prince.

Zhao Kuangyi found this very hard to understand, wondering what Emperor Liu's true intention was in such an arrangement. Was he trying to have Liu Xi offend a group of people through the tax reform? Or was he using the opportunity of getting things done to cultivate a power base and enhance his influence?

Zhao Kuangyi, who had entertained similar thoughts himself, leaned toward the latter explanation. But precisely because of that, he was even more puzzled—was Emperor Liu not afraid of triggering a succession struggle, disrupting orderly inheritance, and shaking the stability of the state?

Zhao Kuangyi's lust for power was too strong, and his thoughts and schemes too numerous. Faced with major upheavals in the court, he appeared somewhat anxious and uncertain.

And while he was racking his brains with worry, news arrived that was hard to tell whether it was good or bad for the Zhao family—the Murong Crown Princess of the Eastern Palace was with child. According to the imperial physicians' diagnosis, her pregnancy symptoms were quite pronounced.

Naturally, there was rejoicing both inside and outside the palace. But for a political animal like Zhao Kuangyi, it inevitably invited deeper consideration of the more far-reaching implications this matter could bring.

Over the years, the struggles within the Eastern Palace had been unceasing, essentially revolving around the two imperial grandsons between the Murong and Zhao families. The Crown Princess's lack of a son had always been the Murong clan's greatest weakness. Although she had adopted the son of the Xiao clan, the Khitan bloodline had always been taboo to those above and below, inside and out. Zhao Kuangyi and the others had never truly regarded the Xiao clan as a rival. Though they had applied some pressure, both Xiao Siwen and Xiao Chuo were cautious and law-abiding, and with Crown Prince Liu Yang's protection, they had not achieved much success.

Now, with the Crown Princess suddenly pregnant, one could not help but speculate and conjecture about the future situation. If this child turned out to be another little princess, then everything would remain as before, and the situation would be hard-pressed to see any fundamental change in the short term.

If she gave birth to an imperial grandson, then there would be much to discuss. One could well imagine that the situation would immediately become murky. How would the Crown Princess then treat Liu Wenji, whom she had adopted for so many years? Friction between the Murong and Xiao clans would likely arise.

And the Crown Prince's eldest son, Liu Wenhuan, born of Consort Zhao, was already nearly fifteen years old. Even if the Crown Princess gave birth to a legitimate son, such a large age gap, backed by a sufficiently powerful maternal family, would inevitably become a tremendous advantage...

Zhao Kuangyi pondered, worried, and also daydreamed. Unconsciously, he once again accepted a reality: that in the era of Emperor Liu's reign, the Zhao family could hardly accomplish much more. The hope for the future lay after the Emperor's death, when the Crown Prince took the throne.

But how much longer would he have to wait? For Zhao Kuangyi, already approaching fifty, how much time did he have left to fritter away? Every time he thought of this, a bold thought involuntarily surfaced in his mind—if only Emperor Liu would pass away soon...

Given the tense situation and oppressive atmosphere at court, those who had entertained such thoughts were probably not few in number—they simply dared not voice them. In the past, ministers might have been merely awed by Emperor Liu's authority, filled with reverence, harboring some vague desire to escape their shackles.

But for a man of ambition like Zhao Kuangyi, it had already become a struggle over power and fate. Robbing a man of his livelihood was like killing his parents; but blocking a man's path to power—that was perhaps even more serious than killing his parents.

That very night, news that was a true heavy blow to the Zhao family followed close behind—the pillar of the Zhao family, the man who had led them into the ranks of the Great Han's top nobility, Duke of Rong, Zhao Kuangyin, had died of illness...

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End of Chapter

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