Chapter 2025: Set Down Gently

Until he left Taikang Hall, Wang Qintuo still felt as if he were in a dream, his legs weak and trembling. From the moment he stepped into Taikang Hall, barely a quarter of an hour had passed, but in that brief time, Wang Qintuo had floated to the clouds one moment and plunged toward the gates of hell the next—even now, his soul had yet to settle.

Lifting his eyes to look around, the blazing sun and the ornate palace buildings were so vividly colored that Wang Qintuo felt everything before him seemed unreal. Turning back to gaze at the hall gleaming in the sunlight, he finally snapped back to his senses, but a doubt still lingered in his heart—could he really be considered to have passed this test?

Yet soon, he realized he had been overthinking. Before he had even left the grounds of Taikang Hall, he was once again detained by men of the Wude Office. The old emperor's side was temporarily settled, but the matters of the Wude Office, Shenzhou, and even the construction of the traveling palace were far from over.

Even setting everything else aside, given Wang Qintuo's status as a prime suspect in a major case, the Wude Office could not simply let him go—unless the old emperor issued an explicit imperial decree.

For Wang Qintuo, however, having already been to the Wude Office's detention facility once, a second visit was far more composed, almost like a vacation. After all, he had already made it past the old emperor's hurdle.

Of course, this was only because Wang Qintuo had yet to witness the true heights of power or the methods of an institution like the Wude Office. And Wang Xuanzhen, without the old emperor's authorization, truly could not fabricate charges against him for the time being—after all, he had been granted an audience with the sovereign, and the old emperor was paying especially close attention to this matter at present, so it was better to be cautious.

At the same time, having suppressed his instinctive antipathy, Wang Xuanzhen found himself genuinely developing some interest in Wang Qintuo. In Wang Xuanzhen's eyes, this fellow Wang Qintuo had a certain sinister quality about him.

The Shenzhou affair, as of yet, had no conclusion—whether it would end in a violent storm or calm waters remained unknown. However, before that, there could be some other exchanges between them; at the very least, they shared the surname Wang, and tracing back a few generations, they might even claim kinship.

And so, Wang Qintuo's fortune seemed to have turned for the better—after his audience with His Majesty the Emperor, he even shared a drink with the Commissioner of the Wude Office.

After receiving Wang Qintuo, the old emperor seemed to have "relapsed" again, shutting himself inside Taikang Hall and seeing no one. All previously scheduled activities were canceled, and even the memorials forwarded from the Western Capital went unreviewed, piling up in the hall to gather dust.

The old emperor's current situation was somewhat pitiable—pitiable in that he had no one left to confide in. It wasn't that he couldn't find anyone; the key was that he couldn't find anyone worth confiding in.

Counting them over, Worthy Consort Zhe was one, but in recent years, she had grown increasingly distant from the old emperor. Especially in the past year—not to say they were strangers, but they barely exchanged two words. And the surface-level respect she showed was merely directed at his status as emperor, fulfilling the basic courtesies of a consort.

The old emperor knew that Lady Zhe had always been that upright-hearted, principled Worthy Consort, unchanged for decades, and so he did not hold too much resentment toward her.

Toward those close to him, the old emperor's tolerance was quite generous, and the older he grew, the more so—his fierce jealousy and suspicion were mostly reserved for outsiders. Likewise, being estranged by family like the Worthy Consort was still painful for the old emperor, and it wounded his heart considerably.

Of course, the old emperor's emotions came quickly and left just as fast—an emperor was, after all, a solitary man. If she was displeased, then so be it; the Worthy Consort was like that, and so were the ministers and subjects of the realm. The old emperor had also come to see that the reverence and obedience of those officials and commoners, both inside and outside the court, stemmed either from fear of his authority or desire for his power—beyond those two, there was no other connection.

Therefore, when he calmed down once more and looked anew at the Taikang Hall affair and the governance of Shenzhou, he felt a sense of detachment and indifference, and he began to address the aftermath.

The first to be summoned was, naturally, Liu Jiqian.

An audience with the old emperor was nothing new for Liu Jiqian—his feelings differed each time—but this time, the psychological burden was the heaviest of all.

Even Liu Jiqian himself knew this was nearly equivalent to a trial—a trial of his life and his future. Therefore, prostrating himself before His Majesty, Liu Jiqian kept his head buried low, yet his mind was highly focused, awaiting the old emperor's instruction.

Seeing his demeanor, the old emperor's gaze was cold as he asked casually, "You seem rather nervous?"

"Your Majesty's august majesty inspires awe, and all submit. Your servant is but one of the masses—how could I not fear?" Liu Jiqian replied.

"Bullshit!" The old emperor cursed directly, his tone contemptuous, making Liu Jiqian's heart and liver tremble.

This was where Liu Jiqian's experience fell short—those familiar with the old emperor knew that when he cursed like this, it usually meant the matter was not serious.

"I have some memorials here, all concerning Shenzhou and you, Liu Jiqian. After I finished reading them, my eyes were truly opened. You take a look too!" Without further ado, the old emperor casually grabbed a stack of memorials from the desk and tossed them down.

The memorials scattered across the floor, one of them striking Liu Jiqian directly on the head. However, he paid no heed to the pain, trembling as he picked one up and opened it.

He read one, two, three—then could no longer maintain his composure. Prostrating himself on the ground, he offered no defense whatsoever, directly begging for mercy: "Your servant is guilty! Please, Your Majesty, mete out punishment—whatever the penalty, your servant will bear it without a word of complaint!"

Such decisiveness and resolution, and the measure of it, was not something Liu Jiqian could have managed on his own—there were far too many people in this world who would not shed tears until they saw the coffin.

Prince Xu had long since instructed him: before the old emperor, do not seek to defend yourself. In his case, seeking survival through death was far superior to escaping guilt through clever lies.

Of course, Prince Xu's analysis was accurate—had Liu Jiqian still tried to argue at this point, the enraged old emperor likely would have had no other considerations.

Liu Jiqian confessed his guilt readily, but the old emperor's expression remained stern as he admonished him: "I think you've lost your mind! Who told you to empty the granaries and abuse the people's labor like this? The people's grievances in Shenzhou—I can feel them even here in Mount Jigong. Did you, as their parent-official, not notice?

Repeated slander can destroy a man! The gentry and commoners of Shenzhou already loathe you, their Prefectural Administrator, to the core—and toward me, do they not harbor deep resentment as well? You don't fear being cursed behind your back, but you don't even consider my reputation?

Flattering and fawning by every conceivable means—what use do I have for a sycophant like you!"

Facing this torrent of rebuke from the old emperor, Liu Jiqian had no further reaction—his face was full of terror, tears and snot streaming down as he kowtowed and pleaded: "Your servant is guilty! My crimes deserve death! Please, Your Majesty, pronounce my punishment!"

To this, the old emperor still appeared relentless, but the meaning in his words had shifted somewhat: "Punishment? How should I punish you—dismiss you from office, or behead you?

Would your life make spilled water return? Would it improve the current situation? Would it dissolve the grievances of Shenzhou's gentry and commoners? Or would it salvage my reputation?"

This string of questions from the old emperor immediately stirred something in Liu Jiqian's heart, but he dared not show it, merely continuing to bow: "Your servant regrets it beyond measure, yet I know my crimes are grave and my responsibility inescapable. I only beg for a swift death..."

At this point, the old emperor fell into contemplation, no longer berating him, but silently scrutinizing the man. He watched until Liu Jiqian was at a complete loss, then finally spoke: "Even now, you still try to play mind games before me?"

Liu Jiqian felt that this question from the old emperor was even more severe than the storm of accusations, and he hastily said: "Your servant would not dare!"

"Would not dare?" the old emperor said coldly. "If I wanted to kill you, do you think you would have had the chance to step into Taikang Hall? These past few days, you've been coming and going from Prince Xu's residence frequently—did he not give you some instruction on how to deal with me?"

This question caught Liu Jiqian completely off guard, and before he could even think of how to respond, he heard the old emperor say in a low, measured tone: "You can no longer stay in Shenzhou. There's a vacancy in Suzhou—go there and serve as Prefectural Administrator. Depart immediately!"

Liu Jiqian was still in a state of panic when he suddenly heard the old emperor's arrangement. For a moment, he didn't quite register it, but after a brief savoring of the words, he hastily kowtowed in gratitude: "Your servant kowtows in thanks for Your Majesty's mercy in sparing my life!"

Not only was his life spared, but his office was also elevated—and abruptly so. Compared to Shenzhou, that "remote and impoverished backwater," Suzhou was a major prefecture, a prestigious one, with a developed economy and thriving population. The gap between the two was beyond measure.

All of Liu Jiqian's machinations in Shenzhou—what had he been seeking if not to curry favor with the old emperor? Though his flattery had landed on the horse's hoof, such a tremendous advancement in his official career was still what he had painstakingly pursued. One could well imagine how excited and conflicted his feelings were at this moment.

"Don't rejoice too soon!" the old emperor still warned coldly: "The Palace City Office and the Wude Office have both conducted detailed investigations of you. The harsh governance in Shenzhou can barely be explained as compelled by superior orders. You yourself have remained relatively incorruptible, restraining yourself and devoting yourself to public duty, never having taken bribes or embezzled for personal gain.

Were it not for that, there is no way your head could have been spared!

Suzhou is a fine place—abundant in goods, prosperous in people, blessed with talent and natural beauty. The pickings there are not comparable to Shenzhou. I hope that this integrity and devotion to duty of yours can be maintained forever.

As a parent-official, you ought to nurture the people and seek their benefit—you must remember this. If in Suzhou you stir up another mess like Shenzhou, then both crimes will be punished together, and even if Prince Xu pleads on your behalf, I will show not a shred of mercy!"

Upon hearing this, Liu Jiqian immediately declared: "Your Majesty's earnest instruction—your servant will hold it firmly in my heart and never dare forget. I will resolutely reform my ways, turn over a new leaf, restrain myself and devote myself to public duty, be loyal to the state, and do my utmost for the people!"

"Get out!" The old emperor waved his hand, no longer wasting any words.

In the end, the matter came to a close in such a smooth, steady manner. Even Liu Jiqian, the one most directly implicated, was let off lightly by the old emperor—not punished, but promoted instead. This showed clearly what his true attitude toward the affair was.

At bottom, it was about saving face, about protecting his old reputation. Looking back, the old emperor might well have harbored regrets about the construction of the traveling palace, but since the money and labor had already been spent, pursuing blame and punishment over it now would only compound one mistake with another, making everyone look bad on all sides—there was simply no need...

Some matters, when they should be avoided, ought to be avoided—after all, if one traced things to their roots, the blame would ultimately fall on him.

The old emperor certainly knew that Liu Jiqian deserved to die—but surely, being muddle-headed just this once, there shouldn't be too much of a problem, should there...

It wasn't like the old days—in the old emperor's eyes, there was already plenty of room for sand.