Chapter 1979: The Crown Prince's Stance Remains Firm After All

In the Eastern Palace, inside Hongde Hall, a palace council was underway. The atmosphere was poor, oppressive and stifling. The subject under discussion was, without a doubt, the most eye-catching matter in the court at present—the "Case of the Twenty-Eight Ministers."

From the "Case of the Xue Family's Wrongful Extermination" to the "Case of Zhang Jinjie," from the "Case to Overthrow Wang" to the "Motion to Abolish the Palace City Office," in little more than ten days, this storm in the Luoyang court had grown ever more intense, the situation escalating without cease. Now, yet another "Case of the Twenty-Eight Ministers" had emerged.

Those who had been imprisoned by Emperor Liu for jointly submitting a memorial demanding punishment for Wang Ji'en, together with Zhang Xun and Lü Mengzheng, numbered twenty-eight in all. By the second day, the appellation "the Twenty-Eight Ministers" had spread like wildfire, and among the common folk, some also called them "the Twenty-Eight Worthy Ministers" or "the Twenty-Eight Gentlemen."

For a time, Zhang, Lü, and the others became worthy gentlemen who resisted the ascendancy of petty men and upheld the justice of the national law. The reputation of the twenty-eight grew even louder, and many people began spontaneously spreading their "stories," recounting the full course of events, which even became fodder for gossip in the markets and alleys.

Of course, behind this there was inevitably some covert manipulation by certain people who wished to further expand the influence of the matter, to make Emperor Liu feel the surging public sentiment below, and to let the old emperor see clearly that the multitude's will could not be reversed, and public opinion could not be defied.

However, what was such behavior in the old emperor's eyes? A coup against the throne! Such a situation would have been impossible even ten years ago. In Emperor Liu's view, this was a group of restless, sinister-minded bureaucrats plotting treachery, taking advantage of his old age and failing sight, trying to wrestle with him over this!

Given Emperor Liu's current state of mind, how he would react to such a situation was predictable. There was absolutely no possibility of retreat. If he yielded this time, then henceforth he would only be forced to yield again and again. On such matters of principle, there could be no compromise whatsoever with that group of bureaucrats—otherwise, the troubles would be endless.

Imperial power and ministerial power had always been locked in a love-hate struggle, rising and falling in turns. At this point, Emperor Liu became even more convinced of his earlier suspicions: the fundamental goal of this group of bureaucrats was aimed at him—they wanted to restrict imperial authority and constrain his power.

And the old emperor was no longer as he had been before; he made no effort whatsoever to conceal his attachment to power and his desire for control. Whoever tried to play tricks in this regard would only invite his severe crackdown. The death of that Jiang Mu was a warning.

Only, some people did not take it too seriously—or rather, a shot fired from a bow cannot be called back. They had to struggle with Emperor Liu over principle, vainly attempting to resolve the matter through means within political rules. However, the old emperor of today was hardly a man who listened to reason. In his heart, only suspicion, wariness, and fury remained—only those irrational, cutting questions of the heart.

If at the beginning Emperor Liu had not yet intended to resort to bloodshed, then once the reputation of the "Twenty-Eight Ministers" reached his ears, his killing intent nearly boiled over. This applied to Zhang Xun and Lü Mengzheng as well—no matter how much he had previously appreciated and valued them, in the heart of a despot, such things were utterly insignificant.

To be fair, whether it was killing Jiang Mu or imprisoning Zhang, Lü, and the others, all these actions of Emperor Liu's did great harm to the court's institutional framework. One could even say that Emperor Liu was digging at the foundations of that rational, relatively fairness-seeking system he had spent decades building.

It was easy to imagine what kind of pernicious influence it would have on the state and the court, on the rivers and mountains of the realm, when the emperor himself no longer cared about the rules. Such influence might not be as explosive as oil poured on fire, but its depth and gravity were incalculable.

Building a system of institutions and rules was no easy matter, and making it take root in people's hearts and be accepted by the masses required even more time. Yet to shake its foundations, perhaps all it took was one act of willfulness from the old emperor in an extreme psychological state.

Crown Prince Liu Yang had been paying close attention to all of this as well, and he was deeply worried by it. That the Great Han had come to its present state was no small achievement—it was a grandeur forged through decades of effort. Liu Yang truly did not wish to see Emperor Liu, in a moment of rage, harm the overall interests of the court, damage the institutions, ruin his reputation, and chill the hearts of the people.

In fact, regarding the actions of Lü, Zhang, and the others earlier, Liu Yang had likewise only cautiously expressed his attention—neither supporting nor opposing, prepared to watch events and await changes. Only, the shifts in this situation had been somewhat too rapid, leaving even Liu Yang hard-pressed to keep up, let alone others.

Liu Yang did not have much of a grudge against Wang Ji'en. This old eunuch was crafty, yes, but capable, yes. Though he lacked much in the way of moral integrity, he was genuinely loyal to the imperial house, had always been respectful toward Liu Yang himself, and rarely cut corners in carrying out his duties. In terms of practical ability, he surpassed the vast majority of bureaucrats in the court.

Setting Wang Ji'en aside, regarding the Palace City Office's conduct over the years and the various disorders and evils it had caused, Liu Yang naturally had his own views in his heart. Not mentioning them aloud did not mean he did not think about them.

Of course, more importantly, examining the matter from the perspective of one in a superior position, Liu Yang could clearly perceive the anger that the meritorious nobles and bureaucrats felt toward the Palace City Office due to its rampant behavior over these years.

From the standpoint of ruling security and the stability of popular sentiment, the meritorious nobles and the bureaucrats—these two great elite ruling classes of the Great Han—needed to be appeased. Certain measures could be taken against Wang Ji'en and the Palace City Office.

However, Liu Yang was not Liu Hui. His understanding of the Palace City Office was far more profound. Even if the Palace City Office were to be rectified, it would have to be done on the premise of preserving its stable combat effectiveness, with the goal of making it serve the emperor and the imperial house even better.

As the heir apparent, abolishing the Palace City Office—unless his brain had gone soft, there was no way he would support such a foolish proposal. Of these two secret service organizations, the Palace City Office and the Wude Office, the Wude Office's sphere of influence was broader, but the Palace City Office played a greater role in the emperor's ability to control the multitude of ministers, because its duty was to monitor public sentiment in the capital region and the conduct of officials both inside and outside the court.

Without the Palace City Office, how could the old emperor dwell securely in the Purple Micro City? Who knows to what extent he would be deceived and hoodwinked by the ministers below! Based on this understanding, even after Liu Yang ascended the throne in the future, he would still make use of the Palace City Office. How could he possibly destroy his own eyes and ears, sever his own claws and fangs?

Therefore, Liu Yang's current state of mind was somewhat contradictory. On one hand, he was irritated by the storm stirred up by Zhang, Lü, and the other ministers; on the other hand, he did not wish to see Emperor Liu take extreme measures against them, as that would do no good for the state.

But the current situation had already reached an impasse, teetering on the edge of danger. Once the old emperor's malice rose from his gut and the edict came down, there would be no turning back. And how to counsel, how to calm and pacify this storm, how to bring this dispute to as smooth a landing as possible—this was somewhat of a test for Liu Yang.

After long deliberation without finding a solution, he summoned his staff to seek their counsel. However, among these staff members, there was almost no one who could keep up with his thinking or grasp his intentions. One after another, though they were clearly retainers of the Crown Prince, their sympathies had also tilted toward Zhang, Lü, and the others.

Looking at those earnest, high-principled, and deeply moving admonitions, Liu Yang felt a sudden, inexplicable disgust. These subordinate officials, after his training, were more than adequate for handling tasks, but when it came to deliberating on major affairs, they still fell far short.

Ever since Murong Defeng and other old retainers of the Crown Prince had been sent out to provincial posts, what remained by Liu Yang's side were only a few cats and dogs. Of course, this did not mean the Crown Prince's faction had withered—it merely meant its influence had been hidden away in relatively inconspicuous depths.

In fact, with the strength Liu Yang had accumulated over these thirty years, he did not need too many people to wave flags and shout for him—that would only invite resentment. But it could not be denied that if Liu Yang truly wanted to make some major move, he could stir up a towering wave in the Great Han court.

A single handwritten order from the Crown Prince could command the vast majority of bureaucrats across the realm, and even a portion of the military—such was the prestige a wise crown prince had built over thirty years. In a direct confrontation with Emperor Liu, he would most likely be unable to withstand the great righteousness of loyalty and filial piety that a sovereign father commanded, but neither was Liu Yang someone Emperor Liu could casually manipulate.

And the more this was so, the more cautious Liu Yang became. Over thirty years as Crown Prince—it had indeed been too long, and too arduous. But he had already waited over thirty years; he was not afraid to wait another two.

And Emperor Liu's body—

His thoughts returning, the staff of the Eastern Palace were still discussing, prattling on about the Twenty-Eight Ministers, their loyalty and worthiness, their moving integrity, and how they needed to plead for leniency on their behalf—if they were executed, it would be a great loss to the court.

Hearing this, Liu Yang could not help but feel annoyed. He could not resist rapping his knuckles against the bronze table before him. The Crown Prince's authority was still considerable—Hongde Hall quickly fell silent.

Looking at this group of people, Liu Yang said coldly: "His Majesty has not yet issued any disposition. What are you panicking about? What are you hurrying for?"

Faced with such a rebuke from His Highness the Crown Prince, the officials' fervor immediately cooled. Several of them even flushed red with embarrassment, for the mockery in Liu Yang's tone was all too obvious.

"Your Highness, please calm your anger. We were too hasty!"

And Liu Yang had no intention of listening to these people prattle on any further—after all, he had not heard a single constructive opinion. After a moment of deliberation, he waved his hand at the assembled crowd: "That concludes today's discussion. You may all withdraw!"

Seeing this, the assembled officials dared not say another word. They bowed in succession and took their leave. Whether or not His Highness the Crown Prince accepted their views, they had already stated their thoughts—that was sufficient to demonstrate their loyalty.

"Xu Shilian, stay a moment!" Observing the officials from the corner of his eye, Liu Yang suddenly called out.

Xu Shilian was that scholar who, sixteen years ago, had struck the complaint drum to petition the emperor directly. Because the investigation ultimately confirmed that Li Fang had not shown favoritism, in the final disposition, Xu Shilian had been exiled to Fengzhou.

In Fengzhou, he had remained for ten years. Beyond the northern frontier, the cold was bitter, life was utterly bleak, and there was no hope of advancement whatsoever. The turning point came during the great Yulin Rebellion. Although Fengzhou was at the northernmost end of the Yulin Circuit, separated by desert and great river, it was still affected.

There had been raids by rebel bandits, and the prefecture was thrown into panic. In that moment of crisis, it was Xu Shilian and his fellow exile Xu Xuan who rallied a band of local militia, helped defend the city, and drove back the invading bandits. Moreover, in the subsequent campaign to crush the fleeing forces of Li Jiqian, the officers and men of Fengzhou also rendered no small service.

It was precisely because of his outstanding performance during the Li Jiqian rebellion that Xu Shilian completely washed away the blemish on his record, received commendation from the court, and even re-entered Emperor Liu's field of vision, earning considerable praise.

The reason was simple: as a scholar who had been exiled to the frontier for ten years, enduring all manner of hardship, with his life mired in darkness for so long and his prospects utterly bleak, he had still stood firmly on the side of the court in a time of crisis, devoting himself with utmost loyalty. Judging by deeds rather than intentions—for this solid, concrete performance alone, Xu Shilian deserved to be established as a model of loyalty and virtue.

And it was only fitting that he be promoted. First, he was elevated directly from an exiled scholar to Military Advisor of Fengzhou. Soon after, he was transferred to the capital to serve as a censor, then promoted to Secretary of the Ministry of Works, until he was noticed by the Crown Prince and transferred to the Eastern Palace to serve as Right Rectifier—a position he held to this day.

Xu Shilian's official career could be described as remarkably eventful, but the twists and turns, the hardships and bitterness along the way were more than ordinary people could bear. Now, having become a retainer of Crown Prince Liu Yang, his prospects were limitless. To a certain extent, Xu Shilian even had reason to be grateful for those ten years of tempering.

In contrast, that jinshi Wu Jichuan who had originally been the accused—his learning was indeed not bad, but over these sixteen or seventeen years, he was still dutifully compiling books at the Jixian Hall, with no prospects whatsoever.

Liu Yang rather appreciated Xu Shilian—after all, this was a talent who had been tested by trials. Looking at Xu Shilian, who neither groveled nor acted haughty, Liu Yang asked softly: "In the discussion just now, everyone expressed their views, but you alone remained silent throughout, not uttering a single word! This storm has stirred up such a commotion—have you nothing you wish to say?"

Upon hearing the question, Xu Shilian was silent for a moment, then clasped his hands and bowed to Liu Yang: "I have words in my heart, but I fear that what I say may not accord with Your Highness's intentions, or even offend Your Highness!"

Hearing this, Liu Yang was naturally even more intrigued. He extended a hand: "Speak, then—let me hear it!"

Pausing for a moment, Xu Shilian said solemnly: "Forgive my presumption, but this entire hall is filled with mediocre ministers—not one of them calculates for Your Highness, and not one of them touches upon the crux of this matter!

In my humble opinion, Your Highness's course of action at present is by no means to become lightly involved in this affair or to submit a memorial pleading for leniency. Rather, you should maintain silence and refrain from taking a stance. Even if you must do something, it should be to submit a memorial firmly supporting whatever decision His Majesty makes—there is absolutely no other choice!

Compared to this storm in the court, whether it be the rectification of maladministration in the northwest or the nationwide tax reform, both are far more important—and those are what Your Highness truly ought to be doing!"

"Are you telling me to stop up my ears, ignore all this, and look after my own interests alone?" Liu Yang asked, his expression unchanged. After a moment's consideration, he said slowly: "Zhang, Lü, and the others are important ministers of the court. If I sit by and watch them suffer, that would indeed be no small loss to the court, and it would also damage His Majesty's wisdom. As Crown Prince, if I remain silent and fail to remonstrate, I fear it would chill the hearts of the ministers."

Liu Yang spoke these words calmly, but there was somewhat less than full sincerity in them. Nevertheless, he watched Xu Shilian with keen interest, observing his reaction.

And Xu Shilian indeed did not disappoint him. After a slight hesitation, he clasped his hands and bowed again, his tone grave: "Let us not even mention that today's troubles are of their own making. Forgive my boldness in speaking plainly—even ten Zhangs and Lüs are not as important as Your Highness's own safety!"

At these words, Hongde Hall fell instantly silent. Liu Yang mused for a moment before saying unhurriedly to Xu Shilian: "Xu Qing, you are quite good."

Xu Shilian was slightly startled, but quickly recovered: "My words and actions have been rash—I beg Your Highness's forgiveness!"

Waving his hand, Liu Yang said softly: "I have taken note of your opinion. You may withdraw as well."

"Your servant takes his leave!"

Xu Shilian was something of an unexpected gain—he never imagined the man could strike so close to his own state of mind. After mulling it over for a while, Liu Yang murmured to himself: "Wanting to keep oneself unsullied—how could that ever be an easy thing?"

Almost on the heels of Liu Yang's sigh, before long, the palace eunuch Wang Yue came to report that someone had arrived from Chuigong Hall bearing an imperial edict—Emperor Liu was summoning him.