Chapter 1899: Coming to His Door

Emperor Liu could guess why Yang Ye had not submitted a memorial. This was a man who followed orders. As long as the situation was not especially grave or the impact not especially harmful, he would not, like those others, raise a fuss, rashly offer advice, and point fingers at Emperor Liu's policies.

But Zhao Pu was different. What that old fox was thinking, Emperor Liu now could not fathom at all. In fact, ever since Zhao Pu became chancellor for the second time, Emperor Liu had been unable to read Zhao Pu's mind. Perhaps what he had once called keen discernment and insight into men's hearts had merely been his own subjective assumption.

But now, Emperor Liu felt somewhat uncertain. Zhao Pu, that old thing, had re-established himself at court in a posture entirely different from before. If one said he was beyond desire and therefore unyielding, then dragging his aged body all the way back to the capital to accept the chancellorship itself meant a continued pursuit of power and position. If one said he had other designs, then during this period of presiding over reform, he had indeed been diligent and conscientious, treading solidly and accomplishing many things, offending no small number of people — especially the meritorious nobles and the civil and military officials who had once dismissed him from his post.

In Emperor Liu's eyes, Zhao Pu seemed shrouded in a layer of mist, impossible to fathom. By his prediction, even if Zhao Pu submitted a memorial explicitly opposing the enfeoffments and earnestly remonstrating against them, he could accept that — Old Zhao had done such things before. But instead, he said not a single word. A few words from Chancellor Zhao were worth a whole pile of memorials on the imperial desk.

As he pondered, Emperor Liu could not help glancing at the imperial desk. Those memorials that struck him as sinister and insinuating were truly like the buzzing of mosquitoes and the barking of dogs, vexing to the heart. Emperor Liu did not deny that among those who submitted memorials there were no lack of good ministers and worthy scholars devoted to the public good, worrying for the state and for the sovereign — but how many such men could there be?

The majority were petty men of ill intent, harboring treacherous designs, and fanning the flames. Of course, this was merely Emperor Liu's suspicion and conjecture from his own perspective — he felt these people were opposing him, were defying his will. Amid this surging tide of sentiment, he once again felt the challenge posed to imperial authority. Perhaps some were taking advantage of his old age...

When Emperor Liu's thoughts drifted toward the clash and struggle between imperial power and ministerial power, the overseas enfeoffment matter itself was no longer the sole crux of the affair, and things had begun to take on a different flavor...

After another long silence, when the atmosphere in the hall had become almost suffocatingly oppressive, Emperor Liu spoke again, instructing Song Zhun: "Go find Zhao Pu and ask him two questions on my behalf. First — during the Lantern Festival holiday, one ought to eat when hungry, rest when weary, and cultivate one's character. Yet why is there such a surging tide of sentiment? People listen to rumors and gossip, grasp at shadows, and recklessly discuss state affairs. Worse still, some stir up trouble and delude the masses. The court is so restless within — how has he been conducting himself as chancellor? Is this how he harmonizes his fellow officials?

"Second — I hear that his Zhao family also has relatives and retainers overseas panning for gold and mining ores. I wonder how much profit they have reaped over these years?"

Hearing Emperor Liu's instructions, Song Zhun felt his resolve waver and could not help cupping his hands to confirm: "Your Majesty, such an interrogation?"

Glancing at Song Zhun from the corner of his eye, Emperor Liu clasped his hands behind his back and said flatly: "No need for you to rephrase anything. Ask exactly as I have said!"

"Yes!" Song Zhun hastily acknowledged and dared not ask further. He too could see that His Majesty seemed to harbor some dissatisfaction with Chancellor Zhao.

The two chancellors, Zhao and Zhao — the respective spokesmen of the bureaucratic and aristocratic factions — simultaneously falling under the old emperor's suspicion... The waters at the top of the Great Han were indeed deep, and the shifts in the situation truly unpredictable, enough to make one tremble with fear. At least for Song Zhun, it had been quite an education, and he became even more cautious.

"Reporting to His Majesty, Consort Hui requests an audience outside the hall!" After Song Zhun left, a palace eunuch came forward to report.

"What is she here for?" Emperor Liu's brow furrowed instinctively, and his eyes flickered. "Not seeing her! Tell her to go back!"

Emperor Liu returned to the imperial desk, brows knit, and could not help continuing to leaf through the remaining memorials. But this time, he no longer paid attention to what these memorializing ministers said, but instead racked his brains to guess their purpose in submitting and the hidden machinations between the lines...

Before he had finished reading one memorial, the eunuch came again, reporting fearfully that Consort Hui refused to leave and insisted on seeing His Majesty. At this, Emperor Liu felt a flash of anger, but after thinking it over, he said with a stern face: "Summon her!"

Before long, Consort Fu walked in. Time is a knife, and it had mercilessly left many traces on the younger Lady Fu's face. After all, she was fifty-six years of age now — a few strands of white hair, several wrinkles, sagging skin, drooping breasts... Yet her dignified and graceful bearing briefly made Emperor Liu see a shadow of Empress Fu, and the slight anger in his heart dissipated.

Consort Hui approached, glanced at Emperor Liu, made a slight bow, then slowly knelt down. She drew out a silk handkerchief and, without saying a word, simply wept there...

This display left Emperor Liu staring in bewilderment, but he quickly recovered, and his expression darkened once more. However, Emperor Liu likewise said nothing for the moment, merely watching her silently, observing her performance.

A woman's tears can sometimes be devastatingly effective. At least Emperor Liu's original "heart as still as water" had been stirred into restlessness by her. In the end, it was Emperor Liu who could not hold back and rebuked: "Coming to this hall to weep and wail — what sort of decorum is this? I am not dead yet! When I do die, then you may come and mourn!"

Facing Emperor Liu's harsh words, Consort Fu's expression froze slightly, but after a brief pause, she wept even louder, still without uttering a single word.

Seeing this, Emperor Liu found himself at a loss with her for the moment. After thinking it over, his tone softened somewhat as he asked in a low voice: "What exactly is it that you want?"

Hearing the question, Consort Hui finally stopped her tearful assault, looked up at Emperor Liu, and asked plaintively: "Why is Your Majesty so cruel-hearted, to separate mother and son, to tear flesh and blood apart? Your Majesty has already taken one son from me — must you take another?"

Clearly, Consort Fu had come about the enfeoffment matter, and specifically for the fifteenth prince, Liu Xuan. Consort Fu had borne two sons and one daughter in total. Her eldest daughter, Liu Jia, had long since married Li Jilong, and over the years had followed her husband wherever he went — when Li Jilong took up his post in Anxi, she went along as well, and they were rarely seen for years at a time.

The ninth prince, Liu Shu, though often in the capital, had lived his own life since establishing his household. And over the past twenty years, the one who had truly accompanied her and whom she doted on most was naturally her youngest son, Liu Xuan.

From Consort Fu's perspective, she naturally could not understand Emperor Liu's "well-intentioned efforts" and "grand ambitions." She had only heard that he was to be enfeoffed with a state — and enfeoffed on those overseas islands with harsh environments and swarming barbarians — and she immediately flew into a rage.

Was this enfeoffment or exile? How could Emperor Liu be so cruel? Liu Xuan had not yet come of age, and unlike his elder brothers, he had not been through things or undergone trials. How could he carve out a world for himself in such a barbaric place?

Danger, hardship, separation — as these elements swirled in Consort Fu's mind, she naturally could not sit idly by. She went directly to Emperor Liu, the "chief culprit," and before coming she had done her homework thoroughly — at least she had found which remote corner of the map Liu Xuan's "New Korea" occupied. The result only filled her with even more shock, anger, worry, and fear. This was no longer exile — it was practically being cast down into the eighteenth level of hell. What father could be so heartless...

Inside Chuigong Hall, Consort Hui's tearful lament continued, but Emperor Liu's head was beginning to ache. Seeing her in a full display of feminine wiles and hearing her shallow feminine reasoning, Emperor Liu was deeply vexed — and what vexed him even more was that he could not even bring himself to rebuke her "feminine views."

"Enough!" Emperor Liu interrupted Consort Fu again, brows tightly knit, head lowered in long deliberation, and asked: "After all this complaining, what exactly is it you want?"

Hearing the question, Consort Hui perked up, no longer weeping or wiping her tears, and looked up: "If Your Majesty must enfeoff states, your concubine does not oppose it — but Liu Xuan must remain in the capital!"

"Heh heh!" Emperor Liu let out two cold laughs upon hearing this: "You want him enfeoffed with a state, yet you're unwilling to let him go fight for it. From ancient times to now, has there ever been a realm and foundation that came from sitting and waiting? If he stays in the capital, watching, waiting, letting others risk their lives to build his enterprise — is there such a good deal anywhere under heaven?"