Chapter 958: The Grand Han Chancellor's Hard Lot

Liu Chengyou's first court assembly after returning to the capital lasted a full three hours, and even the midday meal was some dishes Liu Chengyou had prepared, shared simply with the ministers. Besides summarizing the northern expedition and discussing follow-up matters, there were also important military and governmental affairs from during Liu Chengyou's absence, plus the Great Han's national policies and strategic direction going forward......

Liu Chengyou had already given these matters considerable thought; in fact, there was little worth disputing—just eight words: "Cease arms, end war, rest and recuperate." After such a war, the Great Han could no longer withstand more violent upheaval.

Fortunately, the Emperor had a clear understanding of this. Liu Chengyou offered a set of guiding observations, after which the civil and military officials expanded the discussion and voiced their opinions.

When the assembly dispersed, the courtiers drifted away in twos and threes—the generals striding proudly, the civil officials looking relieved—only Fan Zhi and Xue Juzheng, the two powerful figures of the Hall of State Affairs, wore somewhat gloomy expressions.

Among the ministers, Tao Gu looked the most relaxed, though when he glanced at Fan Zhi, a glint of schadenfreude showed in his old eyes. To be fair, Tao Gu had thrown in his lot with Liu Chengyou fairly early, and especially in Liu Chengyou's early days, when literary talent was scarce among his followers, he had served as a member of the household staff.

Tao Gu was absolutely clever, and his literary talent was considerable, but he was simply too clever by half, which sometimes displeased Liu Chengyou. In the early years, because Liu Chengxun was enfeoffed as Prince of Wei and Governor of Kaifeng, he had shown some divided loyalty. Later there was the matter of accepting bribes; his mission to Jiangnan was a genuine performance that earned him merit, but it also left behind the anecdote of "sleeping alone in a lonely inn," which people still laugh about to this day. During the pacification of Huainan, he shared much of the administrative burden for Liu Chengyou, but then began bending the law for personal gain......

It could be said that Tao Gu was far from virtuous, yet he did possess real ability, and with Liu Chengyou remembering some of their early bond and finding him handy to use, he had kept him in high office at the capital.

As for Tao Gu himself, at the height of his power he had once come close to being made chancellor—Liu Chengyou had indeed entertained the thought of elevating him—but ultimately abandoned the idea because of his conduct.

It was during those years as deputy commissioner of the Pacification Commission that Tao Gu restrained himself and dared not speak recklessly. In those years, Zhao Shangjiao loomed over him, and Zhao Shangjiao's son was a close minister highly trusted by the Emperor, so Tao Gu felt quite stifled.

It was not until Zhao Shangjiao was implicated in a corruption case involving two of his students in Hunan and was demoted and sent away that Tao Gu finally emerged from the shadows, was remembered again by Liu Chengyou, and appointed Minister of Rites.

In the two years since his resurgence, Tao Gu had been much more disciplined—or rather, much more cautious—and still harbored some hopes for the chancellorship. This time, Liu Chengyou putting him in charge of the public memorial ceremony was, for him, another opportunity to display his abilities.

In his mind, he was already planning the specific procedures of the ceremony. On matters of ritual protocol, he was thoroughly experienced and would have no problems; what was worth pondering was the Son of Heaven's intent—what was his purpose? That was the most important thing. In the art of "reading the Emperor's mind," few in the entire court had more insight than Tao Gu.

Of course, what delighted him even more was the shadow gradually gathering over the Hall of State Affairs. Tao Gu's political instincts were exceptionally sharp—he had fully sensed the Emperor's aloof, distant attitude toward Chancellor Fan Zhi.

Combining that with earlier intelligence and Fan Zhi's habitual way of doing things, Tao Gu sensed that the increasingly assertive Emperor's tolerance for Fan Zhi was nearing its limit, and the Great Han's court was likely to undergo another great upheaval.

Just now in Chongzheng Hall, while participating in the political discussions and receiving the imperial instructions, Tao Gu's mind had been entirely on this matter. For Tao Gu, he saw an opportunity. Just as before, when Zhao Shangjiao fell—there had been Zhao Pu's vigilance and investigation, but Tao Gu had also been pulling strings behind the scenes—he had thought that once Zhao Shangjiao was driven out, the position of Pacification Commissioner would be his, but unexpectedly the Emperor had promoted him straight to Minister of Rites.

Over the years, Liu Chengyou had spent considerable effort on rectifying the problem of official titles not matching actual functions. To date, aside from financial authority being independently vested in the State Finance Commission, the powers of all other ministries had been consolidated—this was one of the achievements of Liu Chengyou's official reform.

For Tao Gu, the current situation was the same—if people like Fan Zhi kept occupying their positions, when would those below ever get their chance? Tao Gu could see it clearly: Fan Zhi was a man of fierce integrity and stubbornness, prone to clinging to rigid principles, often contending with others for the sake of so-called righteousness, not even giving face to the Emperor, frequently clashing with the Emperor's views and provoking his anger.

Even under such circumstances, he had sat in the chancellorship for ten years. That the Son of Heaven could tolerate him for so many years surprised even Tao Gu. Considering how Li Tao had been dismissed from the chancellorship back then, combined with the recent rumors and the Emperor's attitude in the hall just now, Tao Gu believed it was time for his own turn.

Of course, even if Fan Zhi were dismissed, it might not necessarily be Tao Gu's turn. But Tao Gu didn't see it that way—in his view, in the current Great Han court, in terms of seniority and ability, no one could be more qualified than Tao Gu himself.

If he couldn't get the Chief Chancellorship, surely the Emperor would think of him for the second chancellorship. In fact, all along, Tao Gu had regarded people like Wei Renpu, Fan Zhi, and Xue Juzheng as juniors, yet in reality they had done better than him, and he couldn't match their prestige—how could he not feel envious?

And over these years, Tao Gu had suffered plenty of indignities from Fan Zhi, so upon detecting that Fan Zhi's chancellorship was unstable, he naturally felt schadenfreude.

But rejoicing in others' misfortunes ultimately brought no benefit to oneself; what was more worth Tao Gu's consideration was how to win the Emperor's favor. On this, after years of observation and summation, Tao Gu also had some insights.

Namely, compared to those ministers who always liked to teach the Emperor what to do and how things should be, Liu Chengyou preferred those who followed his will and loyally and efficiently executed his orders. Those who liked to impose their own wishes and will on governance would not last long.

In other words, although the Emperor had been constantly promoting talent and employing people by merit, he needed a batch of capable executors, not a group of thinkers. In this imperial state, perhaps one brain was enough.

In the early years, Yang Bin and Wang Zhang were typical examples of forcing their own will onto the Emperor and the state—hence the "rebellion case," and to this day Wang Zhang remains in Jingzhou, having retreated while the going was good, but he died of illness in depression.

Later there was Feng Dao—an old fox slick as oil. His chancellorship was the most stable and his days the most comfortable; had it not been for his advanced age and failing health, he could have continued for several more years without issue.

Then from Li Tao to the current Fan Zhi, the fundamental problem remained the same: their personal convictions were too strong, they were unwilling to be completely suppressed by imperial authority, and in their conduct of governance, they occasionally rebounded.

Among the chancellors there were clever men—Wei Renpu, for instance. Although the Emperor often treated him with the courtesy due a teacher, he never presumed to act as imperial tutor, nor did he grandiloquently lecture Liu Chengyou on how to govern. He simply did his utmost to fill gaps, resolve doubts, and explain difficulties, while being diligent and devoted to his duties. Having done all this, Wei Renpu's position at court grew ever more secure.

Tao Gu was clever enough to understand all this, and he felt all the more that he was qualified and capable of occupying the chancellorship. Nearly thirteen years—he could basically be called the earliest civil official to pledge allegiance to Liu Chengyou, a veteran minister from the dragon's rise—and after all these years of scrambling, there was still no desk for him in the main chamber of the Hall of State Affairs. The burden on Tao Gu's heart was indeed heavy, nearly becoming an obsession.

In his view, if he could become chancellor before sixty, he would have no regrets in this life.

Tao Gu, with his shrewd eyes and keen nose, could detect changes in the political climate, but Fan Zhi, as the party concerned, felt it just as deeply. The Emperor's smiling gaze and gentle tone all weighed heavily on his heart.

Xue Juzheng walked alongside Fan Zhi—the two might have had a decent personal friendship, but more than that, they were close on matters of major principle.

Seeing his face so heavy, Xue Juzheng couldn't help but call out: "Brother Fan, His Majesty......"

Snapping back to himself, Fan Zhi let out a sigh but revealed no more emotion, saying calmly: "Let us first properly handle the matters His Majesty has assigned!"