Chapter 110: Father and Mother Worry Only About Their Child's Illness

Inside Qianqing Palace, one could hear a pin drop.

The only sound in the hall was a few stifled, rasping coughs from Qi Xinxiao that he could not suppress, coughs that set everyone's hearts on edge.

Upon the imperial throne, Zhu Youjian's gaze swept calmly across the assembled officials.

Wang Zuoyuan's brow was furrowed, his face flushed with anger.

Huang Liji's expression was blank, his shoulders and back rigid with tension.

Li Guopu seemed on the verge of speaking but held back; the other Daily Lecture officials looked even more nervous.

This probably was not a deliberate probe.

Zhu Youjian shook his head inwardly. He too could not fathom what anyone could hope to probe using a method that bordered on self-destructive career ruin.

Surely it could not be an attempt to assassinate the sovereign with a cold or pneumonia? That tactic would be far too convoluted and absurd.

At this thought, Zhu Youjian even shifted backward imperceptibly, putting a little more distance between them.

His gaze finally settled on the figure prostrate on the floor.

Very young. His cyan official robe was washed spotlessly clean. Judging by the rank insignia, he could only be a Junior Compiler or an Examiner.

Zhu Youjian's eyes narrowed slightly.

Through the gap at the man's collar where he lay pressed to the floor, he caught a glimpse of the inner lining of a padded cotton garment, its edge covered in fine, dense woolen pills.

He looked every inch the genuinely impoverished Hanlin scholar.

After a Leeuwenhoek-level scan, Zhu Youjian quickly reached a decision in his mind.

He gathered his thoughts and broke the suffocating silence, his voice emerging calm and even.

"What is his name?"

Wang Zuoyuan's heart trembled.

Although he had earlier rebuked the man harshly, he had deliberately refrained from naming him, precisely to leave some room for maneuver, hoping to let the matter slide into obscurity.

But now that the Emperor had personally asked, there was no longer any hope of evasion.

He bowed with difficulty and replied, "In reply to Your Majesty, this is Qi Xinxiao, a Junior Compiler of the Hanlin Academy, a jinshi of the second year of Tianqi."

"Qi Xinxiao…" Zhu Youjian nodded, his tone gentle. "Minister Qi, raise your head."

Qi Xinxiao's body stiffened. He slowly raised his head, yet dared not look directly upon the imperial countenance, fixing his gaze only upon the floor before the Emperor's knees.

"We observe that your attire is plain. Could it be that you caught a chill from last night's autumn gale?"

The Emperor's gentle question made Qi Xinxiao almost believe it was an illusion.

He remained prostrate on the floor, not daring to raise his head, and answered in a trembling voice: "Your Majesty is most sagacious… This subject… cough… was reviewing texts somewhat late last night and did indeed catch a slight chill."

He dared not mention that he had only bought half a night's worth of charcoal, which had burned out early, leaving him freezing through the latter half of the night.

If he said that, and His Majesty then inquired about the court's fuel-and-silver stipend, how would he answer?

It might even lead, by association, to the three great construction projects, the donated salaries, the late Emperor, and other such matters — which would be even more terrifying.

Zhu Youjian smiled and said, "What is called ritual propriety resides in the heart, not in outward action. Minister Qi, though unwell, still insisted on attending the Daily Lecture, which fully demonstrates the sincerity of his heart. Such a momentary lapse of composure was, after all, not his original intent — why speak lightly of censure and punishment?"

He turned to Gao Shiming, who stood in attendance at his side, and said, "Companion Gao."

"This slave is here."

"Escort Minister Qi to a side hall to rest first. Warm a pot of honeyed water and let him recover somewhat."

"Also, send word to the Imperial Academy of Medicine. Have the Academy Director dispatch a proper imperial physician to examine him and write a prescription. All medicinal ingredients are to be supplied from the privy purse."

Qi Xinxiao felt as though he were hearing celestial music. His entire mind went blank, and he could only kowtow by instinct to express his gratitude: "This subject… thanks Your Majesty for the boundless heavenly grace!"

Zhu Youjian then asked, "Academician Wang, was Minister Qi scheduled to lecture today?"

Wang Zuoyuan hurriedly replied, "In reply to Your Majesty, Junior Compiler Qi was to lecture on the 'Wei Zheng' chapter of the Analects. By the established sequence, it was to follow the completion of the Doctrine of the Mean."

"That is well, then." Zhu Youjian nodded. "There is still ample time. Let Minister Qi rest and recuperate properly for some days. There is no urgency with the 'Wei Zheng' chapter. Once he has fully recovered, We shall hear him lecture on it."

These words settled the matter of his career prospects, ensuring he would not lose his post as a Daily Lecture official because of this incident.

Qi Xinxiao's mind, which had just struggled free from terror, was instantly overwhelmed by immense gratitude. He knocked his head heavily against the cold golden brick floor, his voice already tinged with tears: "Your Majesty's sacred grace… this subject… this subject could not repay it even with ten thousand deaths!"

The other officials in the hall now also bowed in unison and praised from the heart: "Your Majesty's sacred virtue is magnanimous and benevolent. We, your subjects, are filled with admiration."

Zhu Youjian waved his hand. "All of you, rise. Let him withdraw first. We have not yet finished reciting the Great Learning."

Qi Xinxiao followed a junior eunuch in a daze to the west wing room and sat down.

His mind was a complete blank; his hands and feet were still ice-cold.

Before long, another junior eunuch brought over a cup of warm honeyed water.

Qi Xinxiao accepted it with both hands. The warmth traveled along his fingertips straight to his heart. He drank in small sips, and the dryness and itch in his throat, along with the chill in his body, were immediately much relieved.

The guiding eunuch said softly, "Is Junior Compiler Qi feeling better? If you are comfortable, you may leave the palace now. Eunuch Gao has already sent word to the Imperial Academy of Medicine; you may go there directly."

Qi Xinxiao hastily rose and clasped his hands. "I am much obliged to you, gonggong."

He walked out of Wenhua Hall in a daze, traversed the long palace corridors, and it was only the moment he stepped out of Chengtian Gate that Qi Xinxiao gave a sudden start and fully came back to his senses.

Fear, relief, gratitude, regret… a tumult of emotions surged into his heart all at once, as if a jar of five flavors had been overturned.

The sovereign's grace was boundless, beyond any hope of repayment.

Yet… how exactly was he to repay it? By meticulously preparing that chapter "Wei Zheng" and delivering a lecture of unsurpassed brilliance?

Qi Xinxiao gave a bitter smile.

Meng Wubo asked about filial piety. The Master said, "Father and mother worry only about their child's illness."

His sovereign-father had already carried out the matter of governance quite impeccably; it was he, the subject, who had failed in filial devotion.

Seeing His Majesty's words and deeds today, and the various thunderous measures since his ascension, going to lecture him on "the way of governance" would truly be like showing off one's axe skills before the master carpenter.

Just as his mind was in turmoil, the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came from behind him.

He turned to look and saw a small group of eunuchs emerge from the palace gate, walking briskly to the enormous Statecraft Proclamation Board to the left of Chengtian Gate. They deftly produced a fresh sheet of yellow proclamation paper and began posting it.

Qi Xinxiao's heart stirred, and he moved closer.

On the yellow placard, a line of large characters caught his eye — *Practical Statecraft, Second Essay: Memorial on Relief for the Capital's Starving Populace*.

His gaze moved downward, over the dense, tiny regular-script characters. From the number of famine victims, the funds and grain required, and the resettlement methods, to epidemic prevention, labor assignment, and long-term planning — everything was there, over ten thousand characters in all.

Qi Xinxiao clenched his fists, then instinctively turned his head to look at the supplementary list beside it.

Sure enough, that task concerning "the capital's starving populace" had already been struck through with a vermilion horizontal line, and a name was written to the right: Zhang Zibing, Vice Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture.

Next to it was a line of small annotation: Formerly Messenger, Messenger Office.

From a Messenger of lower seventh rank, leaping straight to Vice Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture of principal fourth rank?

That… that nearly rivals the promotion speed of a Supervising Secretary!

Qi Xinxiao turned his head instinctively to look back at the towering Gate of Embracing Heaven. Behind that gate, his colleagues were now conducting His Majesty's first Daily Lecture for that young emperor.

And as for himself, within the next ten days, he would likely never again have the chance to set foot inside.

His gaze fell once more upon that supplementary list, his eyes sweeping over the task headings: banditry in the capital, popular gambling, sanitation in the Inner City, commercial taxes at the Nine Gates…

He had been famed as a prodigy since youth, and what he prided himself on most was his exquisite literary composition — yet these practical affairs on the list were far too remote from him.

Should he spend some time studying these things he had never touched before?

Or should he continue down this path of the pure and prestigious Hanlin?

Yet though His Majesty was magnanimous today, could he truly harbor no resentment in his heart?

After today's breach of decorum, in His Majesty's mind, had several green marks already been added to his own name?

What, exactly, should he do now?

Qi Xinxiao, who had spent a lifetime reading the books of the sages and a lifetime writing exquisite compositions, stood dumbly beneath the placard. For a moment, he looked around in bewilderment, not knowing where the road ahead lay.