Chapter 2016: The Old Emperor: Investigate Whether There Is a Problem

Inside Xinyang city, the only place suitable for receiving the imperial presence was the prefectural office—the largest, most spacious, and most fully equipped building in the city. The prefectural office sat in the northwest corner of Xinyang, almost pressed against the city wall. From the rear courtyard, in the deep silence of night, one could hear the sound of the Shi River flowing beyond the walls.

The summer night was tranquil, the lanterns dim. In the finely decorated room, the old Emperor had not yet retired. His mood was somewhat restless; he paced with a slightly hunched back, and a look of worry even appeared on his aged face, causing the palace eunuchs great distress—until Commissioner Wang Xuanzhen of the Wude Office arrived.

On this imperial tour, as the heads of the Palace City Office and the Wude Office, Zhang Bin and Wang Xuanzhen both accompanied the imperial entourage, fully embodying the principle of wholehearted service to the Emperor.

"Your servant Wang Xuanzhen, Commissioner of the Wude Office, has been summoned for an audience. May Your Majesty be at peace!" Wang Xuanzhen entered, and upon seeing the old Emperor, immediately prostrated himself in obeisance.

For over a year now, Wang Xuanzhen, as Commissioner of the Wude Office, had behaved with exceptional restraint, much like many ministers and high officials in sensitive positions. If others feared the old Emperor's suspicion and trembled at his repeated unveiling of major cases, then Wang Xuanzhen had a guilty conscience.

The cause, naturally, was the upheaval that had occurred in the Western Capital in the spring of last year. Behind the attack launched by Zhang Xun, Lü Mengzheng, and others against the Palace City Office, the Wude Office—their old rival—had naturally fanned the flames.

Wang Xuanzhen's original intention had been merely to use the Zhang Jinjie case to dampen the Palace City Office's arrogance and weaken Wang Ji'en's power. But the subsequent development of events slipped beyond his control, even entirely beyond his expectations.

In fact, when that group of so-called "worthy ministers" began to direct their spearheads at the entire Palace City Office, questioning the legitimacy of its existence, and even proposing its abolition, Wang Xuanzhen knew things had gotten out of hand.

Compared to his uncle Wang Yinwu, Wang Xuanzhen's greatest strength was his political acumen—an exceptionally keen nose for the direction of events. As the situation expanded, Wang Xuanzhen swiftly halted his covert maneuvers and even arranged for his subordinates to clean up their previous tracks, lest he himself be implicated.

The subsequent development of events proved exactly as he had anticipated: Wang Ji'en was brought down, but the Palace City Office still existed, its power further expanded and its prestige on the rise. As for Lü Mengzheng, Zhang Xun, and the rest—every single one of them was demoted, reaping no good outcome either.

And this result was precisely what Wang Xuanzhen was extremely reluctant to see.

First, he was deeply wary of the Palace City Office's expanded power. Although Wang Ji'en had fallen, in practical terms it was a case of "throwing a chicken and losing the bait"—the conflict between the Palace City Office and the Wude Office was not a personal grudge, but a friction, a clash, and a balance of power.

Thinking carefully, Wang Ji'en had wielded immense power for decades, his influence reaching throughout court and country—truly deep-rooted and far-spreading. When the Emperor employed him, he had to maintain some vigilance. But once Wang Ji'en fell, replaced by Zhang Bin, who was inferior in every way, the Palace City Office was certainly badly wounded—but that was only temporary. Given time, it would eventually recover, while the expansion of power had lasting effects. One need only note that the old Emperor had suppressed the single Palace City Battalion for over twenty years.

On the other hand, Wang Xuanzhen also harbored resentment toward Lü Mengzheng and his ilk. Had it not been for these men, why would the situation have spiraled out of control? Abolishing the Palace City Office—they actually dared to propose it! Given the long-standing antagonism between the Wude Office and the Palace City Office, even Wang Xuanzhen had never entertained such a notion.

At the same time, if they could target the Palace City Office, the Wude Office was equally vulnerable. Wang Xuanzhen understood the principle that "when the lips are gone, the teeth feel cold." The two offices rose and fell in alternation—at least over the past year, while the Palace City Office was in its weak recovery period, the Wude Office had once again come to the fore.

Wang Xuanzhen even believed that the old Emperor had been too lenient in his handling of Lü, Zhang, and the others. He ought to have dealt with them like Jiang Mu, who had been beaten to death in the main hall of the Ministry of Justice—that would have been satisfying.

Of course, how his thoughts and feelings shifted was not what mattered. What truly worried Wang Xuanzhen was whether the old Emperor knew about the little maneuvers he had made during that upheaval.

On this point, Wang Xuanzhen had no certainty at all, and in his heart he leaned toward the belief that the Emperor did know—because from beginning to end, the old Emperor had never once summoned him regarding the matter. If that alone was not telling, then the fact that throughout the entire upheaval, the Wude Office had been ignored as if it did not exist—that already said something.

Under such a state of mind, one can imagine how cautious and meticulous Wang Xuanzhen had been before the old Emperor over the past year, and how diligently he had thrown himself into his duties.

When the palace eunuch conveyed the summons, Wang Xuanzhen had just been having his fatigue massaged away by a subordinate. But upon hearing that the Emperor had summoned him, he showed not a moment's delay and raced at top speed to present himself.

The old Emperor took note of Wang Xuanzhen's deference but made no remark, nor did he bid him rise. By now, his expression had returned to normal.

Looking down at Wang Xuanzhen, the old Emperor wasted no words and gave his instruction directly: "The situation in Shenzhou is somewhat unusual. Go investigate it and see if there is anything amiss."

"Yes!" Wang Xuanzhen, after only briefly savoring the old Emperor's command, bowed and replied.

"Go, then!"

"Your servant takes his leave!"

Leaving the imperial residence and heading toward his lodgings, Wang Xuanzhen's quarters were at the Wude Office's stronghold within Xinyang city. Though Shenzhou was not a large prefecture, with only three counties under its jurisdiction, the Wude Office had stationed a considerable number of personnel there—investigating officials, intelligence officers, and operative soldiers combined, totaling over three hundred men.

Of course, this number had only risen last year, precisely in consideration of the Taikang Palace's presence. At the same time, over the past twenty-plus years, Xinyang had also served as a Wude Office intelligence hub on the north-south communication route, naturally receiving due attention with a full complement of personnel.

Originally, Wang Xuanzhen had planned to hear the subordinates' reports the next day, but with the old Emperor's instruction, things had to move tonight! Deep in thought along the way, Wang Xuanzhen's gaze was heavy and fixed, his face wearing a grave and cautious expression.

The old Emperor's instruction was somewhat veiled, but Wang Xuanzhen grasped the imperial intent almost in an instant. Clearly, the welcoming spectacle the Shenzhou authorities had put on today had not pleased the old Emperor—it had instead aroused his suspicion.

And what Wang Xuanzhen was pondering was not what to investigate, but what to report and how to report it. The true conditions of Shenzhou's populace, Wang Xuanzhen actually knew very well—he had known for a long time. With Prefectural Administrator Liu Jiqian's heaven-provoking, people-exhausting, labor-wasting ways, how could there be harmony among the people?

The reason he had not reported it before was, of course, that Wang Xuanzhen harbored misgivings, and the greatest source of those misgivings was the old Emperor himself. Wang Xuanzhen's political instincts told him that some matters had to follow the "principle of precedence."

Over the past two-plus years, what had been the most important task in Shenzhou? The construction of the summer retreat palace. No matter how eager for quick results Liu Jiqian had been, how oppressive and exploitative, he was still carrying out the imperial command with full support—his methods were merely "too hasty."

If, before the palace was completed, Wang Xuanzhen had rashly reported and exposed the whole mess in Shenzhou, would that not have been slapping the Emperor in the face? Who had wanted the detached palace built—that was the root question, and it was naturally tied to the hardship of officials and people in Shenzhou and elsewhere.

At that point, would the palace still be built? Many things, everyone knew, but no one spoke of them—and what was not spoken of was as good as nonexistent. The Shenzhou problem, for instance, was unlike ordinary corruption or exploitation of the people; it was tied to the old Emperor's imperial dignity. Before acting, Wang Xuanzhen had to weigh the political risks.

All along, the Palace City Office's duty and obligation had been guided by one principle: serving the Emperor. Among all the affairs of the Wude Office, the foremost priority was always the Emperor's commissions, followed by public opinion, conspiracies, rebellions, and the like that threatened imperial authority and national security.

As for the conduct and style of local officials—how corrupt or tyrannical they were—that fell outside the Wude Office's primary surveillance scope. Every major anti-corruption campaign in the past, the Wude Office had been deeply involved in investigating, but the main reason was simply that the Emperor's directive could not be disobeyed.

Basically, no matter how vicious and wicked the bureaucrats were, the local Wude Office operatives paid little heed—they could not manage it all anyway, lacking governing authority. They merely recorded silently and reported the more serious matters upward. When they truly began to take things seriously, it generally meant the situation had already become critical.

Matters like those in Shenzhou had already severely affected the people's livelihood and stability; unrest might erupt at any moment. Yet, from the standpoint of the Commissioner of the Wude Office, he not only could not report it, but had to help maintain local stability and monitor public sentiment to prevent disturbances.

Nor did Wang Xuanzhen fear being accused of deceiving the sovereign. The realm was vast, the Wude Office's apparatus enormous, and the intelligence it received was vast as the sea—some omissions were only natural. At worst, he would plead guilty to dereliction of duty before the old Emperor.

At this moment, Wang Xuanzhen even suspected whether the old Emperor had truly been completely ignorant of Shenzhou's situation before. He felt the more likely possibility was that the old Emperor knew perfectly well but had simply turned a blind eye and a deaf ear, feigning ignorance for the time being.

Now that the palace was completed, the imperial progress had begun, and upon witnessing the suffering of Shenzhou's gentry and common folk, the Emperor had suddenly "awakened," seen with perfect clarity, and opportunely reopened the old accounts.

Such speculation was somewhat disrespectful, imagining the Emperor as too scheming and unseemly. But as Commissioner of the Wude Office—the greatest intelligence chief in the Great Han—was it not entirely reasonable to make such a "rational" suspicion?

For Wang Xuanzhen, what had been inconvenient to raise before was now a different matter entirely, since the old Emperor himself had asked. The situation had changed—he not only had to report, but to report fully and in detail. Even his demeanor during the report had to be carefully managed, displaying a measure of righteous indignation and gravity.

As for how long the "investigation" before reporting should take, Wang Xuanzhen calculated that two to three days would be appropriate. The Commissioner of the Wude Office's flexible stance was exceptionally firm—especially in serving the Emperor, embodying a unity of contradictions.

It must be said: as the Emperor conducted himself as Emperor, so did the ministers conduct themselves as ministers. The Emperor's style was always the weathervane for how his subordinates handled affairs.

Had it been before—when the old Emperor was still that brilliant and martial, that peerless son of heaven—Wang Xuanzhen would have had no hesitation, would not have dared to harbor so many petty schemes and tricks, and would have reported straightforwardly long ago.