Chapter 2037: The Final Journey 6

The old emperor was silent for a moment, slowly walking to the desk, lowering his head to look at what Liu Wenji had written. With just a glance, he chuckled lightly: "Started practicing cursive script?"

Liu Wenji also lowered his head to look at his own "work," clasping his hands and saying: "Grandfather must be amused by my poor effort!"

It was clear from his voice that Liu Wenji's spirits were low. The old emperor muttered: "'Ten paces kills one man, a thousand miles leaving no trace!' Your calligraphy carries a faint hint of killing intent!"

Liu Wenji lowered his head, gently biting his lip. Seeing this, the old emperor clasped his hands behind his back and asked: "I heard you've been feeling unwell. How are you now?"

At the question, Liu Wenji said: "Thank you for your concern, Grandfather. Your grandson is fine, it's just—it's just—"

Seeing him look so reluctant to speak, the old emperor said softly: "That's understandable. A scene like that in broad daylight is indeed quite a shock for young men who have never experienced the world. You need to work hard to overcome it psychologically! Of course, not vomiting on the spot is already not bad!

However, you may not know that when your father first went to the battlefield, he was only eight years old. Facing mountains of corpses and seas of blood, his legs didn't even go weak—"

"Your grandson is naturally far inferior to Father!" Liu Wenji said. After a moment of deliberation, he continued: "Those criminal ministers deceived the sovereign and harmed the people, neglected their duties and perverted the law—they deserved death and are not worth sympathizing with! But Grand-uncle, after all, he is Grand-uncle!"

The old emperor could sense the slight inner struggle Liu Wenji was experiencing at this moment, but what made him curious was—was Liu Wenji's relationship with Fu Zhaoshou really so close that it warranted such grief?

Gazing at Liu Wenji, the old emperor said with emotion: "People are not grass or trees—who can be without feelings? To be fair, I could spare Fu Zhaoshou and let him live. It would only take a word from me, and those ministers below would likely be hoping I would do exactly that!

Moreover, when it reaches their lips and their pens, it wouldn't even count as favoritism—it could be whitewashed into something entirely noble, and they would even sing my praises, lauding my tolerance and benevolence!

Why? The reasoning is simple. If I can show leniency toward Fu Zhaoshou in the 'smuggling case' today, then I would have grounds to be lenient toward others in other matters. And when those ministers and officials face their own relatives breaking the law, wouldn't shielding and indulging them also be perfectly natural?

Things may not necessarily develop that way, but I must be on guard! Of course, I won't deny that there is an intention to use your grand-uncle's head to intimidate the powerful and those so-called great clans across the realm!

Over these past years, I have indeed been somewhat lax, muddled, even befuddled. Now that I have suddenly awakened, let me use the blood of those criminal ministers to declare my resolve."

The old emperor's words were certainly not as blood-curdling as the heads rolling in broad daylight, but to Liu Wenji, they were even more terrifying. The old emperor's words were too calm, and the will they revealed even shook his values.

Seeing his grandson lost in thought, the old emperor continued speaking—it could even be seen as an outpouring: "Lasting peace and stability require a price, and the first to pay it is the emperor. Some heart-wrenching, deeply painful experiences must be endured. The Liu family's realm cannot be guarded by outsiders alone.

In the past, I struggled to maintain it. Now your father has begun to shoulder this responsibility. I am already old, nearing the end of my days. Your father is not young either. The future must fall upon you young ones!

What I did today, Grandfather did act somewhat ruthlessly. But if you cannot withstand even this bit of hardship and shock, and let emotions dictate your actions, then it will be difficult to achieve anything in the future!

I have repeatedly told you to remember: you are descendants of the imperial house. You and Wen Huan are especially the Crown Prince's offspring—the trials you must endure are naturally greater than others'."

These words left Liu Wenji stunned. He looked up and still saw the old emperor's peaceful face, only there seemed to be something more in his eyes. Pondering seriously, savoring the words, before he knew it, the lump that had been stuck in Liu Wenji's chest gradually dispersed.

"Your grandson is dull and fails to grasp Grandfather's heart and pain, but Grandfather's teachings shall be firmly remembered and never forgotten!" Taking a deep breath, Liu Wenji said solemnly to the old emperor.

Looking at this grandson who was not yet sixteen years old, the old emperor sighed inwardly, wondering whether today's outpouring would be of any use in the future.

But on his face, he revealed a gratified smile and said: "I shall take your words as a promise to your grandfather!"

The old emperor's conversation tonight was somewhat abstruse. Liu Wenji was shaken by it, but also found it hard to fully comprehend, so he could only nod in acknowledgment, following his usual habit.

The old emperor offered some words of comfort and prepared to leave, but Liu Wenji rarely took the initiative to ask: "Grandfather's harsh laws and severe punishments today can certainly awe those above and below, but won't such drastic measures invite backlash?"

The old emperor, with his back to Liu Wenji, stopped at the question: "What backlash are you referring to?"

Liu Wenji gathered his courage and said in a deep voice: "Over seventy military officers executed in one stroke, several hundred soldiers arrested—swift and resolute. But the navy is also an army, and the army is what Grandfather always calls an instrument of violence. If such drastic measures provoke a mutiny that threatens Your Majesty's person, wouldn't that be dangerous?"

Hearing this question, the old emperor turned around once more and carefully examined Liu Wenji, unsure whether he found the question meaningful or Liu Wenji's raising of it more valuable.

After a moment of deliberation, the old emperor raised his hand and said calmly but firmly: "Reorganizing the navy and arresting criminal officers and soldiers is something that must be done. In urgent matters, one must act flexibly. Precisely because it is an army, decisive measures were taken to avoid provoking other changes!

As for the concern you raised, I can only say—they wouldn't dare! Don't think that just because your grandfather is old and frail now, he lacks this bit of confidence! At the same time, you must also trust the judgment of those so-called great clans and military officers. The death of one man versus the destruction of an entire clan—which is heavier and which is lighter, they know well in their hearts!"

"Rest well!" Leaving these words while Liu Wenji was still digesting everything, the old emperor slowly walked away.

Stepping out of the room, the old emperor looked up and sighed. Above his head was a sky of sparse stars around a bright moon—the full jade rabbit was casting its soft radiance. Indeed, Mid-Autumn had just passed. Reaching out his hand, Hu De, who was attending him, immediately presented the bamboo staff. The old emperor took it, tapped it on the corridor floor, producing a crisp sound.

At the corridor corner not far away, a figure was hidden in the lamplight, his bearing appearing very upright—it was the Ten-Thousand-Year Marquis, Liu Wenhuan. However, at this moment, Liu Wenhuan's expression was somewhat complicated. He stared fixedly at the old emperor walking out of the room, his gaze faintly tinged with jealousy, grievance, and resentment.

The old emperor seemed to sense something. He tilted his head and immediately called out: "Is that Wen Huan?"

Being called out by name, Liu Wenhuan involuntarily shuddered. Not daring to be negligent, he immediately stepped into the light, bowed, and said: "Yes! Your grandson is here!"

Although Liu Wenhuan tried his best to appear normal before the old emperor, the old emperor could still sense the emotions threatening to burst forth. Gazing at this imperial grandson twice with the same gentle look, the old emperor beckoned to him and said: "Perfect timing! Walk with me!"

Though it was just a brief instruction, Liu Wenhuan felt an inexplicable warmth in his heart and immediately acknowledged.

The autumn wind was bleak, stirring the clear water of the pond. The old emperor, his body stooped, stood beneath the tree shadows, staring blankly at the water's surface where lantern light flickered. Traces of tears welled in his eyes, his lips quivered as he muttered: "Elder Lady Fu, you wouldn't blame me, would you?"

From Fu Zhaoshou's arrest to his execution, the old emperor had never once gone to see him—precisely because he feared he might show favoritism and leniency. Of course, the tears swirling in his eyes now were by no means for the mere Fu Zhaoshou; it was just that the old emperor was thinking of Empress Fu.

Although Empress Fu had passed away many years ago, time had not healed the old emperor's heartache. Instead, as time went on, it grew ever deeper. When he didn't mention it on ordinary days, it was only because he buried it deep within.

Yet today, having just killed Empress Fu's younger brother—though there was little guilt—the longing was stirred up. He even fell into a contradiction of "killing one person, and missing another."

After a long while, as a cup of wine was poured into the grass at his feet, the old emperor raised his hand to wipe the tear stains from the corners of his eyes, finally freeing himself from that melancholy mood.

Even so, the old emperor's spirits remained low. The ills of Jinghu only stirred some indignation in him—once dealt with, that was that. But there were some matters that forced the old emperor to rouse himself and heighten his vigilance.

Perhaps Fan Zhigu didn't know that his superfluous behavior during the day had actually aroused the old emperor's suspicion of him, even to the point of doubt. What the old emperor doubted was whether this man could, according to his will, adjust the upper power structure of the Jinghu North Circuit and suppress those deeply entrenched powerful clans. Judging from the attitude Fan Zhigu displayed today, the old emperor's confidence was seriously lacking, because the feeling Fan Zhigu gave him was full of a tendency toward compromise.

Logically speaking, given Fan Zhigu's ability, character, and past record, it shouldn't have come to this. As long as he still harbored ambition, with the old emperor having so clearly expressed his intentions, he should have advanced without any burden, boldly forging ahead with reform.

However, things are constantly developing and changing. The situation at the Great Han court was also constantly shifting, and people naturally had to adapt to their environment through continuous change.

At Fan Zhigu's position, he naturally had to adjust his stance and change his thinking according to where he sat. If it had been ten years ago, even five years ago, facing the old emperor's instructions, Fan Zhigu would not have hesitated in the slightest—he would have resolutely and thoroughly acted according to imperial will. But now, he had to adopt some more cautious methods.

In fact, not to mention a single Fan Zhigu—even the high ministers and chancellors in the court had been increasingly seeking stability in recent years. And all these behaviors, translated, came down to two words: wait and see!

As for what they were waiting and seeing about—that went without saying!

Even the old emperor himself could not help but notice that it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to accomplish anything these years. The middle and lower ranks were too far from the old emperor, but the upper-level powerful—especially those regional magnates and high ministers—all displayed a kind of slackness and sluggishness.

This did not mean that these elites and powerful figures of the Great Han had all degenerated into corruption. It was just that they had begun to harbor hesitation. This hesitation was undoubtedly brought about by the old emperor himself—not only because of his "erratic" changes in recent years, but also because he was truly old. A person's vitality is hard to hide from others.

The higher one sits, the more one must consider the long term. When governing and handling affairs, they had to consider the continuity of things. The old emperor might not hold on much longer—so how long could the policies he formulated and promoted, especially those he forcibly pushed through, last?

"When the man dies, the policies die" is all too common in China. "One emperor, one court" is an unshakable truth. If one pushed too hard now, one might well face political risks in the future—there was no telling.

Under such heavy psychological concerns, how could the powers-that-be of the Great Han possibly execute the old emperor's decisions as faithfully as they once had? More often, it was an attitude of going through the motions.

The Taikang Palace was built quickly, but that was because everyone from top to bottom stood to profit, and the Shaofu was the lead department. As for tax reform, the reason progress was so slow—besides the complexity and tediousness of the reform itself—was that the hesitation and reluctance transmitted downward from the upper echelons was also a major factor. Fan Zhigu's change in his post at the Jinghu North Circuit was only because he had touched a new level.

Tax reform had now reached deep waters, growing ever more difficult. The new system was not yet established, while new ills sprouted everywhere. The path of reform had also arrived at an even more critical stage.

The old emperor knew well in his heart that it would very likely not be completed within his lifetime, and he had long placed his hopes on the Crown Prince, Liu Yang. As for whether Crown Prince Liu Yang could uphold his will—he had no confidence in that either.

Perhaps it was hard to imagine that His Majesty the Emperor, exalted above all, could be mired in such powerlessness and struggle. The navy smuggling case could only prove—through such decisive and ruthless means as those of the day—that the emperor's authority remained formidable.

Yet this formidability had already reached a point of being strong on the outside but weak within.