Chapter 11: Each Has Their Own Calculations

“Godfather, strike first and gain the upper hand; strike later and suffer the consequences!”

Since the Pure Stream faction wants to move against us, let’s not hold back either.

Grab them and take them to the Eastern Depot—subject them to brutal interrogation, and they’ll confess without fail.”

No sooner had Zuo Tianjun finished speaking than the atmosphere in the room turned strange.

Everyone looked at him as if he were a mentally impaired child.

True, few officials in court are clean, and the Eastern Depot does have the authority to arrest people—but that doesn’t mean power can be abused.

In all previous major operations, there was always imperial indication behind them.

If we act on our own initiative and instigate a major case, we must consider the fate of our heads.

As the emperor’s hounds and claws, the most important thing is to understand your place.

“Get out!”

You’re just a brat—how dare you speak of state affairs? You have no idea what you’re talking about.

Everyone, continue. Ignore this brat.”

Zuo Guang’en immediately rebuked him.

Deep inside, for the first time, he began to doubt his decision to take this boy as his adopted son.

He simply couldn’t understand how a boy who once seemed so sharp could suddenly become clueless at critical moments.

“Factory Director, the great defeat in Liaodong is only the beginning—the real crisis lies ahead in the Nine Borders.”

If the Pure Stream faction launches an attack, their best entry point will be to condemn the military reforms.

The total annihilation of the Divine Engine Camp and the Three Thousand Camp has become their sharpest spear.

If they can magnify the problem, they can completely discredit all achievements of the military reforms.

Once they succeed, they’ll surely press their advantage and attack the entire reformist faction.

On the issue of military reform, we’ve deeply offended the noble families—they’re likely to join in kicking us while we’re down.

This time, the Ministry of War may be in trouble!”

As Minister of Personnel Shi Yuanhu finished speaking, several officials from the Ministry of War instantly turned pale.

Everyone else can find excuses to dodge blame—but they cannot.

Though the military campaign was ordered by the Emperor, they were the ones who drafted the plan.

If the front suffered a crushing defeat, it’s not the Emperor’s fault—it’s theirs.

If the Pure Stream faction uncovers even a shred of wrongdoing, this blame will be pinned on them for good.

“Minister Shi is right—our current situation is extremely unfavorable.”

The Pure Stream faction alone is already troublesome; we absolutely cannot let the noble families get involved.

Factory Director, while we still have time, we must act swiftly to stabilize the noble families.”

Under the shadow of the front’s crushing defeat, their influence will inevitably grow in the coming period!”

Minister of War Yi Chuanliang said solemnly.

When one’s life and fortune are at stake, no one can remain calm.

“Don’t worry—the noble families have already been negotiated with.”

The Ministry of War will cede some authority to the Five Military Commissions, allow military officers to serve in the Ministry of War, and give them one-third of the directorships in its bureaus.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.

Compared to the early days of the dynasty, the concessions Zuo Guang’en offered now seem trivial—but suppressing military officers has always been the consensus among civil officials.

Unlike the eunuch faction, which is inherently constrained, the military faction led by the noble families genuinely threatens the core interests of the civil officials.

“From general to chancellor” is not merely an idiom—it has actually occurred in many dynasties throughout history.

In certain special periods, there was even a rule that only marquises could become chancellors.

Our ancestors expended countless efforts to lock military power inside a cage—no one wants to let them out again.

“Factory Director, this cannot be done!”

If military men rise to power, the state will collapse!”

The civil officials all protested in unison.

The collective opposition from his subordinates startled Zuo Guang’en.

Just giving up a few posts in the Ministry of War—could it really be that serious?

After all, in the early days of the dynasty, noble families directly held ministerial posts in the Six Ministries—and no chaos ensued.

Not understanding matters is secondary; what matters is that his subordinates’ opinions must be taken seriously.

His power comes from two sources: one is the Emperor’s trust, the other is the support of his subordinates.

Now that these two are in conflict, the situation has become complicated.

The agreement with the noble families was reached under the Emperor Tianyuan’s leadership.

If we now renege, where does that leave the Emperor?

“Enough, everyone, rise.”

I failed to consider this properly—thank you, loyal ministers, for your candid advice, which prevented a great disaster.”

But given the current situation, we must first stabilize the noble families.”

So we must still fulfill part of these conditions.”

I suggest this: under the pretext of cultivating talent for the court, we first admit some noble sons into the Ministry of War—but without granting them actual posts.”

Privately, we promise the noble families that once these men become familiar with Ministry affairs and can fulfill their duties, we will assign them proper positions.”

Train them for one or two years, then gradually find suitable reasons to remove them.”

Of course, we shouldn’t remove them all—keep one or two who are useful, to spare the noble families’ face.”

Zuo Guang’en’s flexible moral standards made the previously opposing civil officials breathe a sigh of relief.

Deceiving the noble families was, in everyone’s eyes, a minor issue.

Political struggle has always been a game of deceit—being fooled only proves you’re foolish.

Similar maneuvers have occurred countless times in history.

…

Zhenyuan Marquis’s Mansion.

The chaotic situation in the capital rendered Li Mu’s invitations useless.

The two largest factions in court had gone to war, dragging countless officials into the conflict involuntarily.

The details of the high-level struggle remained unclear, but rumors of officials being toppled kept emerging.

Many were high-ranking court officials in the morning and prisoners by night.

In such a climate of fear, who had time to catch up with him?

Although provincial officials rarely get entangled in court struggles, exceptions always exist.

If one were dragged into the factional fight simply because of close ties, wouldn’t that be unjust?

Of course, everyone was too tactful to refuse outright—they all, without saying a word, postponed the meetings.

Li Mu paid no attention to this change.

Connections matter only when you’re strong; if you’re in absolute weakness, you get at most one chance to ask for help.

The news of his assignment to remain in the capital was still confidential—in the outside world, he was merely the pending Commander of the Hanzhong Garrison.

His rank was not low, but his position carried little authority and offered extremely limited prospects.

Among the countless garrison officers in the Da Yu dynasty, fewer than one in ten had any chance of advancement.

Unless one was precisely posted to Hanzhong—or came from Hanzhong—this connection would never be useful in a lifetime.

Their polite responses were largely due to the Marquis Mansion’s reputation.

Delaying the meetings suited Li Mu perfectly—others feared he’d attract trouble, but he feared they’d be dragged into factional strife.

(End of Chapter)