Chapter 2115: Kangzong Chronicles 2: The Era of Auxiliary Governance

In the second year of Pingkang, who held the greatest power in the Great Han Empire was a question worth exploring.

First to be excluded was Emperor Liu Wenpeng. He ought to have legitimately held the empire's supreme authority, yet before him the Yongxi auxiliary ministers firmly grasped political power, behind him came a series of morale-losing measures by Empress Dowager Murong, and the emperor himself had not even finished inventorying how much of a foundation Emperor Taizong had left behind.

The situation of a weak sovereign and strong ministers persisted after the "Palace Removal Case" in the spring of the second year of Pingkang, and to a certain extent was amplified. The impression that "His Majesty is weak and dim" truly entered the minds of the court officials for the first time, and the political structure of "the auxiliary ministers governing the state" became a reality.

When discussing power, one naturally had to look among the heavyweights of the Hall of State Affairs. Since the Kaibao period, the Director of State Affairs had become the de facto Chief Chancellor of the empire—this had long become a consensus. Even though the *Han Compendium of Statutes* contained not a single word explaining the position of "Chief Chancellor," this customary consensus had already penetrated deeply into the hearts of the empire's upper echelons.

Therefore, as Director of State Affairs, Zhang Qixian was unquestionably one of the most powerful figures in the empire. However, compared to this veteran of three reigns, the one who drew more attention—or rather, surprised people—was the Director of the Secretariat, Prince Lu, Liu Ai.

Since the Shizu era, Prince Lu had never been a particularly outstanding figure. His talents and merits were overshadowed by the brilliance of his dragon- and tiger-like brothers; even in reputation, he was inferior to troublesome princes like Liu Hui and Liu Shu, who were mired in scandals and "messy affairs."

Low-key was his style; mediocrity was the deepest impression he left on people. Even when he was elevated to "imperial clansman chancellor" at the end of Kaibao, it was pure "dumb luck"—Duke Wu Liu Hui had been stripped of his chancellorship for offending Shizu over the "Proposal to Abolish the Palace City Office," and Duke Yan Liu Zhao, being modest and content with his lot, withdrew and declined to serve, which finally drew Shizu's attention to this eighth son.

To a certain extent, it could be said that Prince Lu Liu Ai's emergence as an active figure in Great Han politics from the late Kaibao period onward was something of an accident and coincidence—power and prestige had practically fallen onto his head from the sky.

And over the nearly twenty years that followed, it was hard to find any particularly outstanding achievements or deeds on his part. Even after being enfeoffed as a prince and elevated to Director of the Secretariat by Emperor Taizong, in the eyes of the nobles and officials, he remained that ordinary, unremarkable "Eighth Prince." His standing in the Hall of State Affairs and the role he played at the empire's power center derived solely from his identity—because the system established by Emperor Shizu required such an identity to sit in the court.

Whatever Prince Lu Liu Ai might have felt about this role, he handled the boundaries with great precision, and thus passed through the entire Yongxi era, at the end of which Taizong even placed him among the ranks of auxiliary ministers.

From this perspective, could Prince Lu Liu Ai really be explained by the surface-level "foolishness" and "mediocrity"?

And what truly revealed his true colors, allowing the imperial clansmen, nobles, and the assembled officials to catch a glimpse of Liu Ai's real self, was precisely the period of governance following the "Palace Removal Case."

Through the "Palace Removal" operation, Liu Ai, Zhang Qixian, and the other Yongxi auxiliary ministers formed a political alliance. This alliance was not necessarily solid, nor could one say how long it would last, but at the very least, after suppressing Empress Dowager Murong and the Murong consort clan, it controlled the Great Han Empire's forward course and maintained the court's order.

The importance of order to the state, the altars of soil and grain, national policy, and the people's livelihood needed no elaboration. This was the positive significance of this political alliance, and it laid the foundation for the entire political structure of the Great Han Empire in the second year of Pingkang.

Within this structure, the most prominent figures were Prince Lu Liu Ai and Director of State Affairs Zhang Qixian. The two even had a clear division of labor: Zhang Qixian managed state affairs overall, just as in Emperor Taizong's time, handling the concrete execution of military and national matters—except that compared to before, he had gained more power to discuss policy, make decisions, and have the final say. Of course, reduced efficiency was inevitable, for the auxiliary ministers could hardly be of one mind, and there was always internal tugging.

Prince Lu Liu Ai's role lay in coordinating with the assembled ministers, mediating relations between the inner and outer courts, and handling matters concerning the various states, peoples, and princes. The core point was this: he was a son of Shizu and an auxiliary minister personally designated by Taizong, representing the imperial house in participating in state affairs, ensuring the stability of the empire's political power and the security of the state.

Against this backdrop, Prince Lu Liu Ai gradually acquired a certain measure of righteousness and legitimacy. His power and prestige were constantly rising, and correspondingly, troubles and pressures were also accumulating.

The position of "Prince Regent" was by no means an easy one—it could well be described as sitting on a stove being roasted. One careless misstep could even lead to death and the extermination of one's clan, with no place even to be buried.

For Prince Lu Liu Ai, above him was the Son of Heaven Liu Wenpeng. The emperor was young, but he was not a juvenile sovereign who knew nothing. Any reckless or extreme measure could bring enormous impact and trouble to Liu Ai.

At the same time, the cooperation with the Yongxi auxiliary ministers could collapse at any moment. These old ministers of Taizong had previously, out of fear of Prince Zhao Liu Fang, cooperated with Empress Dowager Murong to force him back. Once Prince Lu's authority was truly established, they likewise could not remain indifferent.

Meanwhile, both inside and outside the court, dissatisfaction—even voices—with Prince Lu and the Yongxi auxiliary ministers monopolizing governance and keeping power from returning to the Son of Heaven emerged in endless succession.

The current Son of Heaven was the legitimate emperor. Taizong had left auxiliary ministers to assist from the side, not to let Prince Lu and his ilk exercise imperial authority on his behalf.

If Empress Dowager Murong's crude, hasty maneuvers had merely stirred discontent in people's hearts, then after the "Palace Removal Case," accusations and attacks against the Yongxi auxiliary ministers were brought into the open. For no matter how one looked at it, there was the suspicion of "offending one's superior," and even with the justification of "putting an end to harem interference in politics," the legal legitimacy was ultimately weak.

Empress Dowager Murong, after all, had not reached the point of universal outrage. To be fair, the "Palace Removal Case," aside from preventing Empress Dowager Murong from further disrupting the Great Han's central government, brought no more benefits to the vast empire.

This affair in fact weakened the absolute authority of the central court and thoroughly exposed the young Son of Heaven's incompetence in controlling the empire. This was a matter of grave political risk, bringing enormous uncertainty to the empire's functioning.

Leaving aside those of insufficient rank who could not access such matters, at least the capital's nobles, high-ranking local officials, regional governors, and even the enfeoffed kings—if not seeing it with perfect clarity—could at least form some opinions about it.

Of course, with the central authority that had kept the empire strong for over half a century, and the national system that still operated stably, these people had not yet lost their reverence for the court and the central government.

However, they were genuinely dissatisfied with the situation of "weak sovereign, strong ministers" and "auxiliary ministers in power."

They might not have been particularly loyal or convinced by the Son of Heaven Liu Wenpeng, but the fact was that they could accept a teenage sovereign directing the realm and issuing orders to them, yet found it very difficult to tolerate someone exercising power "on behalf of Heaven."

The Son of Heaven's power had its legal justification and orthodox defense—it was bestowed by the two preceding emperors, Shizu and Taizong. Youth was no reason for those auxiliary ministers to rely on their power to act arrogantly toward the sovereign and exercise state authority in his stead. And relying solely on an "edict of Emperor Taizong" and an "auxiliary minister identity" clearly could not explain all their actions since taking up auxiliary governance—there was plenty to attack.

And this dissatisfaction could hardly stem merely from loyalty to the emperor or defense of the legal order—it was inevitably mixed with struggles over power and interests. And once those were involved, contradictions, conflicts, and struggles were unavoidable.

As one could imagine, after the Empress Dowager's removal from the palace, the infighting within the Great Han Empire did not stop—rather, it rose and fell in waves, growing ever more intense. The cry to "return governance to the Son of Heaven" was shouted from the beginning of the year to the end, from spring and summer to autumn and winter. Yet even against this backdrop, the auxiliary minister group centered on "Liu Ai–Zhang Qixian" still firmly kept the great ship of the Great Han Empire sailing steadily forward.

This journey could hardly be calm—it was even turbulent, with challenges emerging one after another. Encounter problems, solve problems; if a problem couldn't be solved, then solve the person who created the problem.

Of course, their ability to maintain such a grip on governance stemmed mainly from two factors. First, Emperor Liu Wenpeng was relatively restrained—the affair of Empress Dowager Murong had placed considerable pressure on him and taught him a lesson, so even with many grievances, he could only bide his time for the moment.

At the same time, under the pressure of collective opinion, the "auxiliary minister group" did return a portion of authority to the emperor. Matters handled by the Hall of State Affairs all had to be submitted to the emperor for review, and some affairs could even be decided by the emperor himself.

It was just that on certain major issues, the emperor still lacked the final say. But with this layer of compromise in place, a measure of peace could be obtained. Liu Ai and the others ultimately dared not truly and thoroughly "hold the Son of Heaven hostage to command the feudal lords"—that would invite a united attack.

As for the other factor, it lay in the fact that the "auxiliary minister group" had not flagrantly rebelled, deceived the sovereign, or usurped authority, and they had the endorsement of Emperor Taizong's testamentary edict. Moreover, the real power they held and the prestige built through the functioning of the system were sufficient to firmly suppress dissenting voices both inside and outside. Those opponents, even if some were influential, could hardly shake the "Liu–Zhang" auxiliary governance group before forming a united force.

Likewise, this "auxiliary governance model" was destined to be difficult to sustain. First there were the internal problems of the auxiliary minister group itself—between the auxiliary ministers, between nobles and commoners, and between Liu Ai and the various ministers, contradictions were inevitable, and some were even irreconcilable.

Second, an important reason the opponents found it difficult to pose a real threat to Liu Ai and the others was their inability to form a united force. And within the Great Han Empire, the one person who could truly integrate everyone, challenge, and even overthrow the auxiliary minister governance structure was one and only one: the Son of Heaven, Liu Wenpeng.

Those who did not clearly understand this point could only engage in useless attacks and lamentations. Those who understood clearly had two choices. A minority took action—whether by submitting memorials or offering secret remonstrances—in any case, while displaying loyalty, they also hoped to make the emperor "awaken."

The majority, however, chose to wait conservatively. This too was an effect of the emperor—after all, he was the current Son of Heaven, and since his accession, he had not given a single performance that inspired confidence.

But even so, the pressure on Liu Ai and the other auxiliary ministers remained enormous. They could not cut off the emperor's channels of communication with the outside—what with the Palace City Office on one side and the Wude Office on the other, even if there were some restrictive measures, no outsider knew their depth.

Even if the current Son of Heaven was a "weak and dim" sovereign, at the critical moment, the two offices could only stand on the emperor's side. After all, they were the fangs and claws of imperial power—they had never been given a wrong nickname.

The greatest legal basis for auxiliary ministers governing was the mandate of Emperor Taizong, and the authority they possessed came more from the empire's national management system that had continued for sixty years.

However, the most fundamental problem was that this system of state and social operation, into which Emperor Shizu had infused a soul, even after Taizong's reforms and improvements, was still in essence built around imperial power, centered on the emperor.

The one who could maximize the power of this system could only be the emperor. When the emperor was weak and dim, the auxiliary ministers could still seize a portion of authority. But once imperial power awakened and rebounded, the first blow it struck would very likely be aimed precisely at these "pillars of auxiliary governance."

Of course, whether the Son of Heaven Liu Wenpeng could awaken, how much of his rightful power he could grasp, how much of the empire's systemic power he could unleash, and how and where he would unleash it—these remained unknowns.

But one thing was certain: the Great Han's auxiliary governance structure, led by Prince Lu Liu Ai and Director of State Affairs Zhang Qixian, would not last long, and could hardly last long.

The imperial character cultivated since the reigns of Shizu and Taizong was not like this. The empire could have powerful ministers, but they had to be powerful ministers under imperial authority. This point was not so easily changed—at least it could not appear in the "post-Yongxi era."

In the early Qanyou period, when Shizu first ascended the throne, a similar situation had barely appeared, but it was too brief—the auxiliary ministers were quickly brought to heel by Shizu.

Now, perhaps it was merely history repeating itself, except that with the same play, different protagonists, different abilities, and different circumstances, the processes and outcomes could hardly avoid diverging.

In fact, the very emergence of "auxiliary ministers governing the state" in the Great Han was itself contradictory. In the final analysis, it was the fault of a "youthful" Son of Heaven. Yet without the pillar of "primogeniture" supporting the structure, the court situation might have been a different scene entirely—and not necessarily any more peaceful than what had come since the Pingkang era began.

Since ancient times, periods of power transition had always been when troubles were most numerous and problems most severe. And the Great Han Empire's situation was far more complex than that of any unified dynasty at the same stage in history. Even though more than a decade had passed since Emperor Taizong's succession had weathered one baptism, in this regard, the empire was still not mature—at the very least, a "youthful Son of Heaven" was a brand-new model for a unified empire that required exploration.

Even if one had long since judged the "Liu–Zhang auxiliary governance" as having little future, it could not be denied that at least in the second year of Pingkang, Prince Lu Liu Ai, who had formally begun an era of auxiliary governance, reached the peak of his life.

Prince Lu Liu Ai, mediocre for over fifty years, took less than a year to tell everyone that he was not mediocre at all.

With such a vast empire, so many wolf-like and tiger-like nobles and officials, so many intricate relationships, so many disputes and conflicts—yet he could mediate from the center and guide things through a period of stability. How could such a man be a mediocrity?

Foolish on the outside, but with brilliance hidden within—perhaps that was a more fitting assessment of Prince Lu Liu Ai.

And if one took a longer view—from a broader, higher perspective, along a longer timeline, through the lens of historical development and dynastic rise and fall—then this "era of auxiliary governance" also possessed a certain research value and significance.

At the very least, it proved that under conditions where the emperor rarely intervened in state affairs, the nation could still maintain stability and its various functions could continue to operate smoothly.

Of course, this conclusion could only be drawn under the given historical conditions and special historical period, and it came with many constraints—the demands it placed on institutions, ideology, and individuals were simply too high.