Chapter 228

"His Majesty hopes the old man will donate how much?" the old lord asked Eunuch Qiu without changing expression.

Eunuch Qiu Defu had come personally to Hou Fu to ensure the donation campaign proceeded smoothly. The old emperor's usual pattern: when he needed something, he turned to the Marquis of Pingjiang; when he didn't, he relied on civil officials.

Who else but the Marquis of Pingjiang was a cripple? Even if he earned merit, there was always an excuse to deny him promotion or noble title—only material rewards were given. Moreover, over these years, the Marquis had behaved humbly and obediently, severing nearly all ties with the Crown Prince's faction, which delighted the old emperor. For loyal ministers who kept their place, he must show favor.

The old lord cared nothing for such favor. Let whoever wanted it take it. He pondered: did the old emperor have some deeper motive behind this?

Eunuch Qiu raised three fingers.

The old lord frowned. Thirty thousand taels? Why not just rob him outright?

He tapped his finger lightly on the table. "Jiang Tu is His Majesty's loyal minister, always talking about sharing His Majesty's burdens. With such a major matter at hand, why hasn't Jiang Tu stepped forward? Ten thousand taels? Even three hundred thousand wouldn't trouble Jiang, the Vice Minister."

Jiang Tu had been promoted.

Appointed Vice Minister of Works, it enraged the civil officials to no end.

But the old emperor was too powerful—he crushed all opposition. With the nobility and military officers staying out of it, the civil officials were left with no choice but to grit their teeth and accept it.

Eunuch Qiu looked awkward, forcing a stiff smile. "Your Grace speaks truly—Lord Jiang has no choice but to contribute wholeheartedly. But Lord Jiang lacks influence in court; he cannot match Your Grace's ability to command a hundred responses with a single word."

"No, no, no! Eunuch Qiu, I've done you no harm—don't try to ruin me! 'A hundred responses with one word'? You're practically wishing me dead!"

"Your Grace, you overstate it! At least your words carry weight in court; Lord Jiang's prestige pales in comparison."

Eunuch Qiu was not lying.

Jiang Tu's reputation was rotten to the core. If he were to lead the donation, a brawl would break out on the spot—and the mission would fail, leaving everyone reeking of scandal.

Someone with prestige must step forward.

Who else but the Marquis of Pingjiang?

The Marquis of Pingjiang had just achieved great merit half a year ago, returning in triumph. All court officials—civil and military alike—must grant the old lord due respect.

The old lord chuckled, the smile never reaching his eyes. "Old Qiu, you love putting crowns on people's heads—lift them high, then gleefully watch them fall."

"Your Grace, you overstate it. I mean only well."

"Whether well-intentioned or not, let's set that aside. As for prestige, who rivals the two Chancellors? I am far beneath them." The old lord refused to budge.

This was, after all, a battle of wills.

"The two Chancellors will certainly contribute. But in terms of influence among the military and the nobility, how can they compare to Your Grace? We are all subjects of the court—please, Your Grace, share His Majesty's burdens, share the court's burdens."

The old lord glanced sidelong at Qiu Defu. "Old Qiu, how long has it been since the Crown Prince appeared?"

Qiu Defu's heart jolted. "Why has Your Grace suddenly asked about the Crown Prince?"

"I hear the Princes of Jin, Qin, and Ning have been actively involved in state affairs—yet the Crown Prince is nowhere to be seen. People are beginning to worry. Old Qiu, hearts grow uneasy. When hearts are unsteady, the mind grows restless. Isn't that so?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" In the dead of winter, Qiu Defu broke into a light sweat.

These nobles—deep-rooted, bold—they dared say what others feared to speak, name those others dared not mention, utterly unafraid of the old emperor's wrath and punishment.

The nobility stands united!

When the nobility unites, their power can overturn heaven and earth.

To stabilize the court, the old emperor must first secure these nobles.

"The Crown Prince has always been in poor health. His Majesty's view is that he may wait until the Crown Prince has fully recovered before reappearing."

"What illness is it, then? He's been 'recovering' for nearly a year." The old lord smiled faintly. "Lately, the Princes have been conspicuously active. A few days ago, my steward told me something: a steward from the Jin Prince's mansion forcibly bought and sold goods, causing ledgers to collapse—and it reached my desk. I thought: the Hou Fu can absorb losses, but rules must not be broken. The ancestral rules exist for a reason—they stabilize hearts. Isn't that so?"

Qiu Defu quietly wiped sweat from his brow and smiled apologetically. "Your Grace speaks rightly—ancestral rules must not be broken. But this matter, I am powerless. Why not, during the grand court assembly, use the donation occasion to bring it up with His Majesty?"

The old lord scoffed outright, disgusted that Qiu Defu was treating him like a fool.

Yet he discerned something from Qiu Defu's tone: the old emperor truly despised the Crown Prince—so much so that he disregarded ancestral rules, disregarded court stability, determined to crush the Crown Prince and elevate other princes.

Didn't the old emperor know this was the path to disaster, the root of chaos?

He knew perfectly well.

But in his heart, crushing the Crown Prince and elevating other princes mattered more than court stability. He was confident: even if chaos erupted, he could quell it without threatening imperial power.

Through his suppression, the Crown Prince's prestige had been shattered. Now, what could he use to compete? What could he seize to claim the throne? Thus, the old emperor could rest easy.

Truly... old men grow foolish. A clear tyrant.

The old lord toyed with a white jade pendant, then casually handed it to Qiu Defu. "This jade nourishes the body. Take it, Old Qiu."

Qiu Defu accepted it without protest.

"Return to the palace and tell His Majesty: this old minister will share His Majesty's burdens. The people suffer—I cannot bear it. To contribute is my honor. Thank His Majesty for granting me this chance. But…"

"But what?" Qiu Defu asked anxiously, fearing the old lord would say something inappropriate.

As long as he didn't mention the Crown Prince, anything was acceptable.

The old lord smiled faintly. "Jiang Tu is the richest man in Jingcheng. Make him donate one hundred thousand taels—and I, naturally, will share His Majesty's burdens."

"Your Grace, you cannot speak so recklessly! When did Lord Jiang become the richest man in Jingcheng?" Qiu Defu panicked. He despised Jiang Tu—but that didn't mean he'd let others slander him. Jiang Tu was His Majesty's favorite, a favored minister; Qiu often had to suppress his own feelings and speak from the emperor's standpoint. That was the duty of a court insider. Defending Jiang Tu now was defending His Majesty's face.

"Whether he is the richest or not—you know, I know, the whole world knows. Old Qiu, why pretend ignorance? Why shield Jiang's name?"

Qiu Defu could only laugh bitterly. "Your Grace, have mercy on this servant. I beg you. Rest assured—I will deliver your message to Jiang Tu. This time, for His Majesty's sake, he must donate—and he must donate first."