Chapter 2027: The Time to Rise, the Man Who Rises

Facing Liu Jiqian's respectful and even solicitous welcome, Liu Gui revealed a slight smile and said to him: "As a Prefectural Administrator, you are both the parent of the prefecture and a descendant of the imperial clan. To condescend so graciously and receive me in person—I am truly overwhelmed by the honor!"

Upon hearing this, Liu Jiqian shook his head repeatedly, even leaning forward somewhat, and said in a humble tone: "I dare not accept such praise! I am unworthy of it! Lord Liu serves the state with utmost loyalty, diligent and meticulous, long trusted by His Majesty—you are the model that officials like myself ought to emulate.

That Lord Liu could find leisure to attend this gathering is my great honor, and I am deeply grateful!"

Facing Liu Gui, this old eunuch, Liu Jiqian kept his posture very low, showing not the slightest air of his so-called imperial clan lineage. He knew his own family's situation well—his ancestors had ultimately been disgraced ministers, and moreover, even back in the days at Prince Xu's residence, apart from Liu Chengyun, he and his siblings had been subjected to much exclusion and bullying. An adopted son—that was even lower than a concubine's son. Having endured such hardships, he cherished his current rank and power all the more, and craved even greater authority.

With Liu Jiqian's intelligence, how could he not know the harshness of his governance in Shenzhou over the past two years, how could he not know the hidden dangers within it and the suffering and burden it had brought to the common people?

It was just that, like that Wang Qinruo, Liu Jiqian was also gambling—if he won, he would be promoted and ennobled, with a promising official career; if he lost, at worst he would lose his head.

From the moment he entered officialdom, he had always remembered Prince Xu's teachings: restrain oneself, wait, stay low-profile, be cautious. He had waited like this for over twenty years, until he reached the age of forty, and some of his hair had already turned white.

If not for the Taikang Traveling Palace, if not for the imperial carriage's southern journey, he would have continued enduring. But the palace site was chosen at Mount Jigong, and he happened to be serving in Shenzhou—was this not heaven's arrangement, fortune favoring him?

Under such circumstances, to remain steady and do nothing was absolutely unacceptable to him personally. For an official, such an opportunity came once in a thousand years. In the Great Han, the last such occasion was during the Fengshan sacrifices at Mount Tai, and the one who profited then was Zhang Qixian, then Prefect of Yanzhou.

Fortunately, it seemed he had won the gamble. From the old Emperor's arrangements, he had already passed the test. The transfer from Shenzhou to Suzhou was a signal too obvious to miss.

At the same time, Liu Jiqian still harbored hidden worries about this transfer order, because it had come suddenly and the demands were too urgent. He would have preferred to remain in his Shenzhou post until the imperial carriage returned to the capital.

But the old Emperor's order for him to proceed directly to Suzhou made Liu Jiqian worry that the old Emperor had not truly let the matter go. He could not help but fear that on the road to Suzhou, he might suffer a "sudden death"—this was also one of the reasons he had invited Liu Gui for this talk before departing. At least regarding the Taikang Palace matter, he and Liu Gui held the same position, shared the same interests, and had cooperated quite well over the past two years.

"When a Prefectural Administrator extends an invitation, how could this old man refuse?" Liu Gui was clearly satisfied with Liu Jiqian's attitude, and said with a light laugh: "It's just that from the traveling palace to Xinyang is several dozen li—mountain roads plus straightaways. My old bones can withstand a bit of jostling, but the important thing is that I need to request leave from His Majesty."

Seeing this eunuch putting on airs, Liu Jiqian felt a slight discomfort inside, but his face still wore a gentle and respectful expression as he said humbly: "It was truly my oversight. But Shenzhou is not like the capital region—it's a small place, and the only thing worthy of offering is this Yiyang Tower. I beg Lord Liu to be lenient with me!"

"Prefectural Administrator Liu is too polite!" Liu Gui said with a smile, looking at Liu Jiqian with a meaningful gaze: "If the rumors are true, in three years of serving in Shenzhou, this is the Administrator's first time setting foot in this Yiyang Tower, is it not?"

Liu Gui smiled at this moment like a wily old fox, and his gaze made Liu Jiqian's heart feel somewhat uneasy. Suppressing that trace of discomfort, Liu Jiqian smiled along, stepped aside half a body's width, and extended his hand toward the tower's interior: "You flatter me, Lord Liu! This is no place for conversation—please, Lord Liu, enter the tower. I have already prepared a banquet!"

Liu Gui nodded, straightened his robe sleeves, and began walking inside, but soon stopped, noticing that Liu Jiqian's gaze was still glancing toward Yankang Avenue.

His smile immediately vanished. His voice was not loud, but his tone was no longer so friendly: "What, does the Administrator have other distinguished guests?"

Noticing the eunuch's change in expression, Liu Jiqian cursed inwardly, but his face showed nothing as he mentioned quietly: "I also invited the Marquis of Nan'an, but—"

"No need for 'but'!" Hearing it was the Marquis of Nan'an, Liu Gui's expression improved somewhat, and he said: "The Marquis of Nan'an's anger toward you and me has not yet subsided; I fear he will not come. Besides, as Commander-in-Chief of the field headquarters, the Marquis of Nan'an must guard the imperial carriage—how could he abandon his post?"

The Marquis of Nan'an, Murong Chengtai, was both the old Emperor's cousin and his co-brother-in-law. The depth of their relationship was beyond doubt. Moreover, he had always been close with Prince Yong, Liu Chenghsun, and was currently the Commander-in-Chief of the field headquarters.

With such lineage, such a title, such power—even someone as arrogant as Liu Gui had to show him an extra measure of respect, and this respect was far more genuine than what he showed Liu Jiqian.

Hearing Liu Gui say this, Liu Jiqian knew in his heart that this was still the eunuch putting on airs. How could Liu Jiqian not know all that he was saying? It was just that the garrison and protection of the traveling palace had always been the responsibility of the Inner Palace Army. Murong Chengtai, as Commander-in-Chief of the field headquarters, handled daily administrative affairs in the field camp, and on the military side supervised the imperial army stationed at the mountain's foot and in Xinyang—he had no direct jurisdiction over the Inner Palace Army, nor did the imperial carriage require Murong Chengtai to be on standby at all times.

Liu Jiqian rarely wore his inner thoughts on his face, so in response to Liu Gui's words, he still smiled and assented: "It seems I shall have to find another opportunity to apologize to the Marquis of Nan'an!"

The Marquis of Nan'an certainly had reason to be angry with Liu Jiqian and Liu Gui, because the incident of blocking the imperial carriage to cry out for justice, and the subsequent exposure of corruption in the construction of the Taikang Palace, had implicated Murong Chengtai as well—he had been summoned by the old Emperor and severely berated.

Murong Chengtai felt somewhat wronged, but being scolded, he could not talk back, because both matters were connected to him. Setting aside the carriage-blocking incident—he was the Commander-in-Chief of the field headquarters—and regarding the construction of the Taikang Palace, he had also served as overseer for nearly a year, even though he had not been deeply involved in the specific affairs.

Thus, having taken the blame from the old Emperor, Murong Chengtai's belly full of anger had nowhere to vent except at others. The two Lius bore the brunt of it—had they not been recklessly stirring up trouble, how would he have been dragged in? Especially Liu Gui—it was said that he had originally taken on the overseer role on Liu Gui's behalf.

Inside the Yiyang Tower, voices were clamorous and noise filled the ears, but the private room the restaurant had arranged for the Prefectural Administrator was naturally quiet and elegant, with soundproofing done very well. After a few cups of wine went down, the atmosphere immediately became lively. The two men's relationship had already been fairly good, and this night's drinking brought them even closer.

Liu Jiqian attended to Liu Gui thoroughly—pouring tea, filling wine, serving dishes, almost feeding him by hand. Even Prince Xu had never received such service from him, though of course that was because he had never had the opportunity. And that air of intimacy—even Liu Jiqian himself, if he had seen it, would probably have felt nauseated.

As for Liu Gui, he had indeed had many people flatter and curry favor with him in the past, but the high ministers and dignitaries did not need to flatter him, and ordinary people he looked down upon. All things considered, Liu Jiqian had decent qualifications across the board, could stroke the vanity of a eunuch like him, and his attitude was genuinely good, making him feel comfortable from the inside out.

However, in the past two or three years, even more people had been flattering Liu Gui, and their status and rank had been steadily rising. Such a change had clearly been noticed by Liu Gui, whose nose was exceptionally keen.

He had also analyzed this matter and ultimately reached a conclusion that surprised even himself: perhaps the reason was that His Majesty was no longer as wise as he used to be.

It was understandable that for eunuchs like Liu Gui, if they wanted to make their mark and gain the "respect" or even awe of those outside officials, it was very difficult under the gaze of a wise and powerful Emperor.

If the Emperor was too wise, then officials would naturally be harder to deceive, but servants like themselves would not have an easy time either. It could be said that the Emperor's wisdom, long praised by the powerful and privileged, was premised on safeguarding the interests of those powerful families—giving them power, giving them profit, while the Emperor had best behave himself and rule by doing nothing, and that was the most praiseworthy wisdom of all.

Setting aside that premise to speak of wisdom was mostly self-consolation. And for a very long time, the old Emperor's actions had deviated from this—he drove, he watched, he suppressed, and at his most excessive, almost all his ministers could barely catch their breath.

Interestingly, it was precisely in recent years that no matter how much turmoil there was inside and outside the capital, no matter how many people were rubbing their hands in anticipation of stirring something up, at the upper levels of the court, those high-ranking magnates were at peace with one another, each enjoying their own tranquility.

Everyone had an unspoken understanding—their attitudes were conservative, and they all cautiously accompanied the old Emperor. Whatever he wanted to stir up, as long as he did not stir it up against them like in the past, as long as he did not constantly bring down the rod, they could endure, they could wait—waiting for the complete end of the old Emperor's era.

And someone like Liu Gui, a dignified Director of the Palace Workshops, still could not resist stirring things up, wanting to make some noise, only because his rank was not yet high enough. At the same time, he was also the one who most sincerely hoped the old Emperor would live many more years.

Liu Gui himself had a certain level of ability and quality, and he did not want to become a treacherous eunuch. Therefore, in his view, the old Emperor did not need to be too foolish—just not so wise would be fine. The current state was just right: a bit of personal desire, and enough favor toward himself.

For the time being, Liu Gui's greatest ambition was merely to become a powerful eunuch, to become the third pole in the inner court after the Chief Eunuch and the Palace City Office—and this trend was already emerging.

When Wang Ji'en and Yan Tuo were still around, there was no comparison, but Zhang Bin and Hu De—what rotten fish and shrimp were they? With the Palace Workshops as his foundation, plus the old Emperor's trust, Liu Gui's power had been rising like the midday sun over the past two years.

However, Liu Gui also had his worries: the Palace Workshops was not like the Eunuch Bureau or the Palace City Office—it was not a traditional sphere of eunuch influence. Before him, every director had been an outside official, whether imperial relatives or close ministers—all outside officials.

In recent years, under Liu Gui's management, the Palace Workshops had further strengthened its independence. It could ignore everyone except the Emperor. It had always been the Palace Workshops intervening in outside court affairs, never the outside court sticking its nose into the Palace Workshops.

And Liu Gui had recently received some unfavorable news—certain people at court were plotting to pull him down from his position as Director of the Palace Workshops and replace him with a "worthy minister."

To this, Liu Gui naturally sneered with contempt. Those bastards simply did not know what they were talking about—was the Palace Workshops something those outside officials could lay their hands on? Could His Majesty trust outside officials?

However, with such rumors emerging, Liu Gui felt that he himself had not done his job well enough, that his influence over the outside court was too low. At the same time, how could he not worry that if things blew up, the old Emperor might yield to pressure and change horses? After all, he was special in the eyes of outside officials, but within the inner court, within the eunuch community, he was ordinary—the Emperor never lacked servants.

Therefore, the incidents that had occurred after arriving in Shenzhou had Liu Gui on edge. He was also afraid that those who did not know better might attack him on this matter. Fortunately, the old Emperor's attitude toward him had been very clear from the start, and once Liu Jiqian's matter was settled, he was completely at ease.

Yet even so, thinking back still gave him lingering fear. Political danger often appeared in these inconspicuous places, catching one off guard. And when the two Lius drank together, they shared their lingering fears—whenever they spoke of this matter, they could not help but sigh.

After a catty of wine went down between the two men, they were as affectionate as lovers, already calling each other brothers. Liu Gui was a few years older than Liu Jiqian, so Liu Jiqian called him elder brother, and Liu Gui responded by calling him younger brother.

There was no doubt that in the relationship between the two Lius, Liu Gui held the dominant position. Liu Jiqian had far more things he needed from him. Some matters were things Prince Xu could not do or would not do, but Liu Gui could do and had done—this came with the power and position he held.

And Liu Gui, at least for now, had nothing he needed from Liu Jiqian, so he was not worth much regard. If it had been Prince Xu's legitimate son, that would be another matter, but he was only an adopted son.

But on the other hand, through this affair, Liu Gui could see something in Liu Jiqian's future. Adopted son or not, he had brains, he had ability, his background was reliable, and he had strong execution—his future held promise.

The wine had already colored his face. Listening to Liu Jiqian, with drunken, hazy eyes, repeatedly speaking words of flattery and thanks while occasionally probing into matters of the Taikang Palace and Shenzhou governance, how could Liu Gui not see through his guilty conscience?

So, for the first time, he poured himself a drink, then reached out and hooked his arm around Liu Jiqian's shoulder, leaning close to his ear and saying: "Worthy brother, it's rare for us to hit it off so well. Since we've come this far tonight, the words I'm about to say—they leave my mouth and enter your ears. Once we leave this room, I'll deny every word!"

Not minding the reek of alcohol, Liu Jiqian's eyes moved instantly at these words, then he continued with a drunken smile: "What golden words does elder brother have to offer? Your younger brother is all ears!"

A trace of emotion appeared on Liu Gui's face as he sighed: "Look at me—Director of the Palace Workshops, a third-rank official, barely counting as holding high position and great power. Blessed with His Majesty's trust, my words carry some weight at court. Those high ministers and dignitaries may look down on me in their hearts, but which one of them dares to tear face with me?

I manage a great many affairs under my hand, especially His Majesty's money purse—that's far more comfortable than the Finance Minister's position. Below the Palace Workshops, a great many people's prospects, wealth, honor, and even their lives and families are held in my hands, decided by a single word of mine.

In some people's eyes, I suppose my power is overwhelming. But your elder brother knows clearly in his heart—no matter how heavy the power, I am still but one servant of His Majesty. This life of mine, perhaps, has already reached its limit!

But you, worthy brother—you are different!"

Liu Gui's tone became resolute and firm. He looked even drunker, but his enthusiasm for conversation grew stronger. Liu Jiqian, for once, did not chime in with agreement, but sipped his wine and silently listened to this newly acknowledged elder brother's "words from the heart."

"His Majesty absolutely detests ministers who presumptuously speculate about his intentions, but tonight, I, your elder brother, will venture a guess or two." Liu Gui habitually clasped his hands in the direction of the imperial presence, yet his gaze was fixed unwaveringly on Liu Jiqian:

"Do you know why you managed to get through this perilous situation? In my view, His Majesty's need to preserve face is certainly one factor, and His Highness Prince Xu's influence also played a part, but more importantly, it was you yourself, worthy brother!

I saw it long ago — you are no ordinary son of a noble house. You have grand designs hidden in your breast, lofty ambitions, no greed for profit, no craving for fame. All your efforts are for the Emperor, for the greater good.

Catching some criticism for doing things is truly of no consequence, and the methods used are another matter, but being able to do things — and accomplish them — that is what His Majesty appreciates. Others see you as notorious in Shenzhou; in my eyes, you have made a stunning debut. Otherwise, ten years from now, how many people inside or outside the court would even know you, the son of Prince Xu?

Were it not for this reason, that head upon your shoulders, worthy brother, would be very hard to keep."

As he spoke, Liu Gui belched a breath of wine fumes that nearly choked Liu Jiqian, but the latter ignored his physical revulsion and replied cautiously: "Elder brother's words send a chill down my spine — the very thought fills me with lingering dread!"

Seeing his reaction, Liu Gui smiled, drained another cup of wine, and continued: "So, worthy brother, there is no need for worry — cast aside all your doubts. Go to Suzhou and take up your post with your head held high.

His Majesty's anger toward you is one thing, but his appreciation of you is genuine as well. Of course, once you reach Suzhou, you can no longer behave as you did in Shenzhou.

The current political situation is precisely the time for ministers like us to strive and rise. Worthy brother, you will surpass me; one day you are certain to soar to great heights. Who knows — in the future, I may well need to rely on your support."

At this point, Liu Gui gradually fell silent, and seeing this, it was clear he was drunk. Liu Jiqian smiled and said: "Thank you for your guidance, elder brother. Hearing your words has cleared away my confusion — I now have confidence in my heart."

He pushed and called, but Liu Gui still showed no response. Liu Jiqian then swallowed another cup of wine before drunkenly calling for someone outside to prepare a carriage to send Liu Gui back to his lodgings.

He personally saw him off, and only after helping Liu Gui into the carriage did Liu Jiqian collapse to sit on the ground, still remembering to give instructions to Liu Gui's driver and guards.

He watched the carriage grow distant until it was out of sight, then Liu Jiqian stood up again, straightened his clothes. The flush of wine was still on his face, but his expression was more one of deep thought. And inside the carriage, Liu Gui's eyes were also gradually clearing, equally lost in contemplation. Both were masters of the drinking table — how could they get drunk so easily?

In comparison, this bout of drinking had yielded more for Liu Jiqian. He had drunk plenty of wine, understood matters clearly, and even managed to forge a rough political alliance with Liu Gui. Though the alliance was still fragile, its benefits to Liu Jiqian were obvious.

What Liu Gui had said tonight was profoundly true — the current political situation truly was a time for men like them to rise.

Returning to Yiyang Tower, he continued drinking. While Liu Jiqian was still savoring Liu Gui's words, an attendant reported that Ma Qing of Luoshan County sought an audience. Toward Ma Qing, Liu Jiqian was naturally furious, for Wang Qinruo had come from under his command.

Since Ma Qing's arrival in Xinyang, they had met only once, and that had been a stern rebuke. Though the matter had now settled, the anger in Liu Jiqian's heart had not dissipated in the slightest.

He was inclined to refuse the audience, but considering that Ma Qing had indeed been loyal and respectful in the past, never compromising on the prefectural office's instructions, and was truly one of his own men — and drinking alone was always somewhat lonely — he ordered the man brought in.

The same room, another round of drinking, though this second session saw Liu Jiqian putting on airs while Ma Qing flattered and fawned. Apologizing and begging forgiveness remained Ma Qing's primary expression, but what Liu Jiqian talked about most was still the situation with Wang Qinruo.

Between these two gamblers, Liu Jiqian had thoroughly come to bear a grudge against Wang Qinruo, for his secrets had been completely exposed by him. In the end, Ma Qing still achieved his ultimate goal — being transferred out of Shenzhou, and receiving Liu Jiqian's promise to find an opportunity to move him to Suzhou.

And was this Ma Qing not clever as well? He could not yet see the higher levels, but in this small patch of ground, he had perceived that a major reshuffling of the Shenzhou officialdom was inevitable. At the very least, the prefectural and county chief officials would certainly be adjusted — the people's resentment against them was simply too heavy!

With such an understanding, how could Ma Qing not take the initiative and struggle for his own future? Rather than passively waiting for arrangements, it was better to cling tightly to Liu Jiqian's coattails.