Chapter 2061: Taizong Arc 3: The Emperor's Legacy

After all, he was a mighty ruler who single-handedly forged the Great Han Empire, a great man who personally inaugurated a glorious era of prosperity. No matter how people's hearts began to change, Emperor Shizu's influence on the Great Han Empire was all-encompassing and omnipresent; even though the man had collapsed, his influence continued unabated.

And when it came to the mourning period specifically, and to individuals specifically, the most direct manifestation was that over a dozen old ministers from the Qianyou and Kaibao reigns died one after another—some of sudden death, some of illness, some without any ailment at all, and even some by suicide.

Among them, the highest in status was Commissioner of Military Affairs, Duke of Fanyang Pan Mei, who passed away at his home during the mourning period. Regarding Pan Mei's death, there were many rumors circulating in the streets—some quite fantastical. Some said Pan Mei cried himself to death from excessive grief, others said he followed Emperor Shizu to another world to conquer it anew, and of course there were even more claims that anyone could tell at a glance were distortions passed along as truth.

As for Pan Mei's true cause of death, no one paid it any attention—the more supernatural and outlandish the legend, the more people believed it. Pan Mei's death certainly bore the influence of Emperor Shizu's passing, but the root cause was his already frail constitution. Yet merely because of his merits, seniority, and position, even his death from illness was imbued with countless baseless meanings.

As for Pan Mei's death, Emperor Liu Yang naturally felt considerable regret. In Liu Yang's view, true to his name, Pan Mei was the one who possessed all the excellences of a commander in the present age—the most perfect military leader in decades.

Among the old ministers of the Kaibao reign, some were bound to be replaced by new men, but Pan Mei was absolutely one of the meritorious veterans Liu Yang was determined to keep employing. His sudden departure was naturally a pity.

And upon hearing those rumors, Liu Yang could not help but feel somewhat displeased. Pan Mei was being shaped in public opinion as an image of extreme loyalty to the late emperor—fainting, crying himself to death. And what about the late emperor's son? What about the Crown Prince who inherited the throne? Not wailing until unconscious, not weeping until tears ran dry and blood followed, not falling ill from grief—was that not rather inappropriate?

Of course, this displeasure was not directed at Pan Mei by Liu Yang—it was hardly proper to direct it at a venerable, meritorious old minister who had already passed away. What truly infuriated him were those who spread false rumors and sought to manipulate public opinion. Liu Yang was also certain that, without someone stirring up trouble behind the scenes, such a public sentiment could never have formed in just over a month's time.

It had to be said that during this period after first ascending the throne, Liu Yang had become far more sensitive, and his originally magnanimous nature had gained a measure of suspicion. This was a rapid but not abrupt change, developing naturally—roughly speaking, it was the necessary transformation toward becoming a qualified and capable emperor.

The one who reported this matter to Liu Yang was none other than Commissioner of the Palace City Zhang Bin—monitoring public sentiment in the capital region had always been one of the Palace City Office's most important duties. The heavens of the Great Han Empire had changed; the higher one stood, the greater the impact. After fully accepting reality, one needed to think about one's own future prospects and prosperity.

Under the same system, everyone occupied a different position—some trudged alone in the dust, some walked the path to the clouds, some lingered before the Dragon Gate, some stood high upon the Star-Plucking Terrace.

And someone like Zhang Bin found himself at the edge of a cliff, treading on thin ice. With Emperor Shizu gone, the most helpless were clearly the consorts and palace women who had once served him; those who felt the most danger and fear were the despised hounds like Zhang Bin.

As early as at the field headquarters, Zhang Bin had been detained together with Wang Xuanzhen by the two Lis, and they were only released when the imperial coffin returned to the capital. Even so, they were warned to behave themselves.

How would they dare not behave! Zhang Bin at least had some self-awareness—if their master was dead and they, the hounds, continued to bare their claws and show their teeth, they would deserve to be beaten to death.

During this period, Zhang Bin was greatly fearful—not of those outside ministers and powerful figures, but because he had not received comfort and acceptance from his new master. While Zhang Bin was in office, the Palace City Office was certainly not as arrogant and overbearing as it had been under Wang Ji'en, but the very nature of this office meant it was destined to offend people and be despised. Those in the court who wanted Zhang Bin's head and wanted the Palace City Office abolished had never been few.

Back then, when Lü and Zhang "toppled Wang," the "office-abolition storm" they stirred up had merely failed. What truly worried Zhang Bin was the attitude of the new emperor, Liu Yang—he had not been granted an audience, and several times when he proactively sought one, he was refused. This was by no means a good omen.

A person with a mutilated body like Zhang Bin, in such a line of work, naturally had an abnormal psychology and could not help but overthink. Especially since, when Liu Yang was still Crown Prince, he had expressed clear dissatisfaction with the Palace City Office's wanton arrogance. Now that the new sovereign had ascended, if he used the Palace City Office to appease those ministers and grandees who deeply hated them, to buy their hearts, it would hardly be surprising at all.

Heaven have mercy—over the past stretch of days, what agonizing mental torment Zhang Bin must have endured. Without a master to wag his tail for, he simply had no sense of security at all.

Fortunately, Zhang Bin did not scare himself to death. In the end, he smoothly received an audience with Emperor Liu Yang, who personally instructed him, clearly directing him to continue managing the Palace City Office's affairs, ensuring the entire institution functioned effectively, and letting the emperor's eyes and ears become clear and sharp once more.

Having received such "comfort," Zhang Bin's heart settled greatly, and he was full of drive. Once the Commissioner of the Palace City was at ease, the Palace City Office also snapped back to life. The rumors and legends about "Pan Mei's death" circulating in the streets of the Western Capital were a piece of swift and efficient "performance" provided by Zhang Bin.

In fact, whether it was the Palace City Office or the Wude Office, Liu Yang attached great importance to both in his heart. Under the old emperor's years of influence, he was especially clear on the importance of the two offices' existence to the emperor and to imperial power.

What he had disliked in the past was merely the two offices' arrogance, lawlessness, and harming of others through abuse of the law—it did not mean he wanted to uproot them entirely. What could be stated clearly was that if anyone in the future tried to make an issue of the two offices, it would not pass with Liu Yang either.

And the reason Liu Yang had previously shown a cold attitude toward the two offices was, first, that he was bound hand and foot to mourning affairs, spending nearly half of each day at the funeral palace; and second, that he still had reservations about how to handle the two offices, and thus hesitated.

Now, a month and a half had passed since he ascended the throne before the coffin, and both conditions had matured—only now did he begin to put the matters of the Palace City Office and Wude Office on the agenda. Of course, the key lay in the handling of Zhang Bin and Wang Xuanzhen.

Chuigong Hall.

Since the mourning period was still in effect, the entire palace city remained in plain white, with everyone from Emperor Liu Yang on down wearing mourning garments. Inside the hall, the Commissioner of the Wude Office was also summoned by the new sovereign for the first time, to report on the affairs of the Wude Office.

Like Zhang Bin, Wang Xuanzhen had not had an easy time of it over the past period. Compared to the Palace City Office, the Wude Office's situation was somewhat better, but only marginally so. Though its style had been slightly restrained, its reputation was equally notorious, and it was equally detested by the Great Han's bureaucrats. Especially after Wang Ji'en's downfall, when the Palace City Office's arrogance faded, the Wude Office was thrust back into prominence as one rose while the other fell.

Only, compared to Zhang Bin, Wang Xuanzhen was calmer, more composed. But when he received word of the new sovereign's summons, he too was greatly invigorated. For this report, Wang Xuanzhen had made thorough preparations, laying out the Wude Office's situation without reservation, and giving especially detailed introductions on key matters such as the Wude Office's intelligence network, the Wude Battalion, and the secret archives system.

It had to be said, this was the first time Liu Yang had heard such a detailed, specific report on the Wude Office. Though he had some understanding in the past, he had never dared to interfere too much, lest he violate Emperor Shizu's taboos.

Now, with Wang Xuanzhen's explanations, the fog that had always shrouded the Wude Office dispersed for Liu Yang, gradually revealing itself clearly before his eyes.

It was precisely for this reason that Liu Yang truly came to understand what kind of institution the Wude Office was, and where its terror lay. It could be said that the Palace City Office's arrogance raged outwardly, while the Wude Office was low-key—terrifying within.

What concerned Liu Yang most—or rather, put him on guard—were the secret archives preserved within the Wude Office. Even from some shallow, surface-level descriptions, one could perceive the power, or rather the threat, of those things.

Counting only from the first year of Qianyou, the Wude Office had forty-five years of history. Unlike the Palace City Office's limitations, the Wude Office's tentacles extended across the entire realm. Over such a long stretch of time, what a behemoth the Wude Office had become, and how many secrets of the Great Han Empire, military and political conditions, it had collected—even the Commissioner of the Wude Office himself might not fully know.

For a single instant, Liu Yang even conceived murderous intent toward Wang Xuanzhen, but he forcibly suppressed it. He clearly recognized that as long as the Wude Office existed, certain malpractices were inevitable, and certain problems would have to be faced. When he was still Crown Prince, he had acknowledged the Wude Office's utility; now that he was emperor, he needed to elevate his perspective on problems even further.

In the hall, Wang Xuanzhen maintained a humble and respectful posture throughout. He did not know of the emperor's psychological shifts, nor did he dare to speculate recklessly. He simply waited quietly for the imperial instruction, for the emperor's "judgment" on his future and fate.

After a brief pause for thought, Liu Yang spoke in a steady tone: "The late emperor once said that among all the successive Commissioners of the Wude Office, you are the one with the strongest political awareness, the most capable in handling affairs, and the most precise in grasping the proper measure!"

Hearing Liu Yang say this, Wang Xuanzhen felt a chill run through him—such an evaluation was rather dangerous for a Commissioner of the Wude Office. As the head of the secret service, doing one's duty, quietly serving as the blade in the emperor's hand, the hound beneath the Son of Heaven's carriage—that was the proper path. Was playing politics something he should be doing?

Back then, his uncle Wang Yinwu had lost his life precisely because of a "political crime." Of course, the root of Wang Yinwu's downfall was that he did not understand politics yet insisted on meddling in it, involving himself in court factional strife.

If a Commissioner of the Wude Office were completely ignorant of politics, that would not last long either—no matter how capable, he would at most become a talented subordinate within the Wude Office. Therefore, in the end, it came down to how the emperor viewed the matter. At least during Emperor Shizu's time, Wang Xuanzhen's performance had been just right. But now, the one deciding his fate was the new sovereign before him.

Thus, meeting Liu Yang's gaze, Wang Xuanzhen displayed an expression of utmost trepidation: "Your servant is unworthy of such praise from the late emperor. I shall only keep to my proper station and exhaust my loyalty—nothing more!"

Liu Yang neither confirmed nor denied his words, and after pondering a moment more, said: "The convict labor camps under the Wude Office's management—how many people are in them now?"

Wang Xuanzhen's professional competence was indeed solid—almost without a moment's thought, he answered: "Reporting to Your Majesty, the realm's convict laborers are divided into twelve regions, totaling three hundred camps, approximately five hundred thousand people!"

Ever since Emperor Shizu had assigned management of the convict labor camps to the Wude Office, the question of the Great Han's convict laborers had never again stirred waves among the upper echelons, never again become a stain on "benevolent governance." However, no unrest, no mention, no attention—did not mean the problem did not exist. And even with psychological preparation, upon hearing the number Wang Xuanzhen reported, he could not help but be greatly startled. Five hundred thousand convict laborers—this scale was even larger than in those years.

At the same time, it also triggered Liu Yang's concerns. Over these years, though he had heard no more reports of convict uprisings anywhere, he absolutely did not believe it was because the Wude Office's methods had grown gentler, resulting in less resistance. The more reasonable explanation was that those who would resist were gone—and with them, naturally, the resistance itself.

Therefore, Liu Yang's demeanor turned solemn, and he asked seriously: "Tell me honestly—of the realm's convict laborers, how many die each year?"

Meeting Liu Yang's interrogating gaze, Wang Xuanzhen paused only briefly before answering decisively: "Reporting to Your Majesty, approximately ten thousand or so!"

Liu Yang fell silent. After a long while, he said in a firm tone: "The management of the convict labor camps must be reformed!"

"Please instruct me, Your Majesty!" Wang Xuanzhen was even more direct.

Fixing his eyes on Wang Xuanzhen, Liu Yang gave concise and forceful directives: "First, casualties among convict laborers must be reduced;

Second, management methods must balance leniency with severity—wanton abuse and arbitrary beatings or killings must be eliminated;

Third, the officials managing the convict labor camps throughout the regions must be rectified—those who are tyrannical, lawless, or reckless must be investigated and purged;

Fourth, the number of convict labor camps is excessively large—each camp across the realm must be individually reviewed, and those whose crimes are minor or whose sentences have been served shall be released!"

Wang Xuanzhen silently recorded everything Liu Yang said. He had no objections to the first three items; only the last one made him show hesitation before the emperor for the first time at this audience:

"Your Majesty, forgive your servant for speaking bluntly—the realm's convict laborers all suffer bitter labor and harbor considerable resentment toward the court. Your Majesty is benevolent and has graciously issued this decree, but the convicts may not appreciate it. If they are released, I fear they will not be grateful, but instead harbor resentment and bring calamity to the localities."

Hearing this, Liu Yang's brows furrowed slightly. He examined Wang Xuanzhen carefully for a moment, then said with a sigh: "No wonder there is a saying among the people that the labor camps are like ghost caverns—ten enter, one returns, and that one comes back maimed!"

After this one sighing remark, before Wang Xuanzhen could respond, he rebuked: "The concerns you voice do have their reasoning, but have you ever considered how this situation came to be?

If the laws and regulations were followed, if the rules and statutes were observed, if one restrained oneself and curbed one's impatience, showing a measure of leniency and mercy, practicing less cruelty and oppression—would the convicts' resentment have reached such a point? Chronic ailments and old malpractices, accumulated until too deep to reverse—without prior causes, how could today's state exist?

By your reasoning, to avoid unrest, convict laborers should simply be worked to death, eliminating the hidden danger forever! But is such a practice any different from carrying firewood to put out a fire, or adding boiling water to stop water from boiling?

Five hundred thousand convict laborers—can your Wude Office suppress them for ten years? Can it suppress them for twenty? Three hundred camps spread across the twelve regions of the Great Han's circuits—if a change comes and they rise together in revolt, then there will be beacons of war everywhere. At that time, which calamity would be greater—that future disaster or today's harm?

When problems arise, if one does not seek the root cause and govern from the source, but merely suppresses endlessly—how can that last long?"

Faced with Liu Yang's words, the deepest feeling in Wang Xuanzhen's heart was that the present Emperor and the late Emperor were indeed vastly different in style. Had it been the late Emperor, how could there have been such deliberation? If someone truly wanted to rebel, he would simply have them killed. The policy toward convict laborers had reached its current state precisely because of the late Emperor's forceful style.

Compared to that, the new sovereign was far more benevolent. Though sighing inwardly, Wang Xuanzhen outwardly expressed compliance: "What Your Majesty says is far-sighted and deeply concerned. Your servant feels as if enlightened by a sudden awakening—to cure an illness, one must indeed seek the root cause."

After offering this flattery, Wang Xuanzhen still bowed and said: "However, being lenient with convict laborers, Your servant remains worried and dares not be careless. If only there were a plan that could satisfy both concerns!"

Wang Xuanzhen's words seemed to carry an undertone. Liu Yang narrowed his eyes slightly, thought carefully for a moment, then his expression shifted as he said unhurriedly: "What if we send those convicted of minor crimes and those whose terms have been completed to the various vassal states?"

"Your Majesty is wise!" Wang Xuanzhen said immediately.

Giving Wang Xuanzhen a deep look, Liu Yang returned to calm and continued in a steady tone: "The reform of the convict labor camp system is the foremost priority of the Wude Office. I know well that this is not a task accomplished in a single day, nor is it something just anyone can complete! I give you two years to focus solely on this matter—do not let other affairs distract you!"

Hearing Liu Yang's command, Wang Xuanzhen's heart suddenly tightened. His political awareness was indeed keen; he understood the Emperor's intent almost instantly. Though he had anticipated it, having things actually develop in this direction still left him feeling quite unwilling.

Beyond his reluctance, there was only deep helplessness. How could he defy the imperial decree? He had no qualification to do so either!

"Your servant humbly obeys!" No matter how complicated his feelings, Wang Xuanzhen accepted Liu Yang's orders in full.

"You may withdraw!" Liu Yang waved his hand.

"Your servant takes his leave!"

From the moment he exited Chuigong Hall, Wang Xuanzhen knew that his tenure as Commissioner of the Wude Office would not last long. Perhaps in two years, or perhaps even sooner, he would have to leave his post—the Emperor might already be selecting his replacement.

All Wang Xuanzhen could do was exert every effort to handle the task Liu Yang had assigned. It was clear that the new sovereign intended to dispense grace through the reform of the convict labor camps. If the task was done well, there might still be other prospects in the future.

Liu Yang sat in the late Emperor's seat, gazing at Wang Xuanzhen's respectfully retreating figure just as his father had once scrutinized his ministers, and thought to himself: "This man is indeed exceptionally capable. A pity to kill him, yet unsettling to employ him."

After Wang Xuanzhen withdrew, Liu Yang leaned back on the imperial throne and pondered for a long while. Suddenly he raised his head, looked at Wang Yue who was attending at his side, and said: "You have served me for many years now—loyal, respectful, diligent, and dutiful. By all reason and propriety, you deserve some reward."

Hearing the Emperor say this, Wang Yue's heart surged with wild joy, but his face remained composed, even showing some eagerness to decline: "His Majesty speaks too highly! To be able to serve His Majesty, this humble one is blessed beyond measure. To remain by His Majesty's side is already the greatest fortune—how dare I presume to hope for reward!"

Seeing his reaction, on an ordinary day Liu Yang might have smiled, but during the period of national mourning, he only nodded gravely and said: "This is both a reward and an assignment—it's not as if I'm sending you off to enjoy leisure! I give you two choices: one is to serve as Director of Palace Eunuchs, the other is to take over as Commissioner of the Palace City. You may consider them!"

Hearing the Emperor's words, a surge of excitement rushed through Wang Yue's heart. His mind immediately recalled the prestige and influence of Yan Tuo and Wang Ji'en back in the day—they were models of the eunuch profession. Now, at last, it was Wang Yue's turn.

However, noticing Liu Yang's scrutinizing gaze, he was startled into alertness and hastily said: "This humble one is dull-witted—how would I dare entertain other thoughts? I will only follow His Majesty's commands, through fire and water, ten thousand deaths without regret!"

Indeed, hearing his words, Liu Yang only pondered briefly before deciding: "You will take over as Commissioner of the Palace City!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty!"

Wang Yue suppressed his excitement and departed. As for Zhang Bin, Liu Yang was ultimately still magnanimous—he gave him a different position, sending him to Taiyuan to guard the temporary palace, which served as a place for him to retire.

In the following period, Liu Yang also received Liu Gui of the Court of the Imperial Treasury, as well as Zhou Fang, the head of the Xiao Bureau who rarely appeared before the outer court. The latter had proactively sought an audience with Liu Yang after the late Emperor's coffin had returned to the capital; this time was merely a systematic report and briefing.

The Palace City Office, the Wude Office, the Court of the Imperial Treasury, and the Xiao Bureau—these four institutions, some overt and some covert, were a rich legacy left to Liu Yang by Emperor Shizu. Only by truly grasping these in his own hands could he, as the new sovereign, possess the most basic sense of security.

After all, from the moment he ascended the throne, he was naturally engaged in "discussing the Way" face-to-face with the empire's powerful nobles, rather than the past practice of all bowing to the sovereign together in court.