Chapter 138: Gong Ren Kang Ding Jing Emperor

"Brother Yin, let's head to the capital!"

Zuo Zuo Hongjiang had barely stepped through the gate when he unleashed his opening move.

Imperial succession is usually accompanied by a political purge.

Due to their political views, they were suppressed during the Tianyuan reign—now is the perfect moment to turn the tide.

Once the power realignment ends and court politics stabilize again, there will be no room left for us to return.

"Brother Zuo, this seems inappropriate."

"The Emperor hasn't even issued an edict yet!"

Yin Yin Zhiming immediately objected.

As leaders of the Pure Stream, they must preserve their dignity.

When they were exiled home by Emperor Tianyuan, the scene was utterly humiliating.

The bureaucracy is the most pragmatic place; fawning over the powerful and trampling the weak is the norm.

If not for their skill in self-promotion and constant cultivation of prestige among scholars, they would have been long forgotten.

Even with the highest reputation, their influence is confined to the scholarly circles.

Those students are dazzled by their rhetoric, but people grow up. Once they enter officialdom, things will change quickly.

The Pure Stream's true leaders at court are Pang and Xu—they may lack the scholarly fame of ours, but they hold real power and control the keys to official advancement.

One side is the great deceiver, the spiritual leader; the other is the faction leader who can actually advance your career. It's obvious who to follow.

"Brother Yin, if we didn't have the Eight Regents, we could wait for the Emperor's edict."

"But now the situation is different—those eight men have joined forces to monopolize power; the Emperor holds no real authority."

The court posts are all filled; even if the Emperor wanted to summon us to the capital, there's no vacancy."

The court is in chaos; the Eight Regents haven't yet divided their powers—this is our best chance to intervene."

"Once we help the Emperor reclaim his authority, everything will change!"

Zuo Zuo Hongjiang shook his head.

He wanted face too, but substance mattered more.

Living in Jiangnan, the two of them seemed dazzlingly illustrious—but in truth, those who came to study under them were merely chasing their fame, riding the wave of their popularity.

The great clans aren't fools; though their ideals align with people's interests, they also consider feasibility.

Benevolent governance, preferential treatment for scholar-gentry, abolishing the secret police, exempting merchant taxes…

These political slogans either take money from the state treasury or weaken imperial authority.

The problem is, Great Dayu's finances are already hollow.

Aside from the gullible teenage idealists, no one believes their political ideals are workable.

Even Yin and Zuo themselves, after years of silence, knew how absurd their slogans were.

But as leaders of the Pure Stream, they couldn't turn back on their own words.

The boasts they made in youth couldn't be retracted—so they had no choice but to keep blowing them up.

Human nature is complex: even though they know these ideals are unworkable, many still enjoy listening.

The scholar-gentry funded them not expecting all their ideals to be realized—just one implemented would repay their investment.

As the principals, Yin and Zuo had no way out.

Either abandon their past ideals and become a laughingstock of the scholarly world, or press on relentlessly, continuing as leaders of the Pure Stream.

Once they held real power, all problems would vanish.

"Brother Zuo, are you suggesting we overthrow the eunuchs?"

Yin Yin Zhiming mused.

Aside from promoting political ideals, the Pure Stream's only concrete political action was overthrowing the eunuch faction.

From court to the provinces, everyone was eager to topple the eunuchs.

As if eliminating the eunuchs alone would bring universal peace and usher in Confucian utopia.

For Yin and Zuo, the most suitable way to intervene in court affairs was to overthrow the eunuchs.

Not only was it politically correct within the Pure Stream, but the eunuchs, having lost imperial backing, were the softest targets.

Of the Eight Regents, Zuo Gu'en had the most problems—he'd taken countless blame for Emperor Tianyuan and was utterly despised by the scholar-gentry.

Any accusation would do; no one cared if it was true. All evil deeds were blamed on the eunuchs—no doubt about it.

"Brother Yin, why pretend you don't know?"

"Besides overthrowing the eunuchs, do we have a better excuse to head north?"

As Zuo Zuo Hongjiang finished speaking, both men smiled.

Marching on the capital under the banner of overthrowing the eunuchs, they would find no shortage of supporters from the provinces to the court.

…

Taihe Hall.

Seated on the dragon throne, watching ministers bicker endlessly, Ji Ji Zhao Shun was deeply weary.

In Great Dayu, the late Emperor was a deeply controversial figure.

He pulled Great Dayu back from the brink of collapse, but his methods were far from honorable.

While alive, the late Emperor held absolute power and acted decisively—no one dared defy him.

Now that he was dead, during the posthumous evaluation, controversy erupted.

Though the Regents disagreed, they still showed respect, giving the late Emperor high praise.

The officials were different—they were a mixed bag.

Literati loved irony; they deliberately crafted temple names and posthumous titles that sounded noble but were laced with mockery.

For example: "Gaozong, Martial Emperor," "Wuzong, Civil Emperor…"

(Note: Within a dynasty, temple names are unique; posthumous titles may repeat, usually by altering one middle character.)

Completely mismatched—designed purely to mock.

Clearly, the late Emperor's reforms had offended many.

"Enough!"

"You've argued for three days straight and still have no result—how long do you intend to drag this out?"

"Since you can't decide, I'll decide for you."

"Temple name: Xiao Sect. Posthumous title: 'Jing.' Full title: 'Gong Ren Kang Ding Jing Emperor!'"

Ji Ji Zhao Shun exploded on the spot.

To avoid criticism, he had carefully reviewed his brother's achievements and failures during his reign.

Fortunately, Emperor Tianyuan had been reasonably competent—he'd accomplished much, requiring no forced glorification.

"Your Majesty is wise!"

Zuo Gu'en was the first to echo.

To gain the Emperor's favor, he was the first of the Regents to defect to the new ruler.

Yet Ji Ji Zhao Shun found this eunuch who rushed to join him utterly unappealing.

Clearly a sycophant, lacking even a shred of the dignity expected of a virtuous minister.

For Ji Ji Zhao Shun, who aspired to be a great ruler, his duty was to draw close to the virtuous and distance himself from the base.

Compared to the opportunistic Zuo Gu'en, the other seven Regents—who remained cool and detached—commanded his greater respect.

"Since no one opposes, the matter is settled!"

Seeing partial support from ministers, Ji Ji Zhao Shun swiftly chose decisive action.

It was a lesson learned since his accession.

Expecting full support from all ministers was impossible.

Since his ascension, court officials had never agreed on any matter, big or small.

Generally, if over half supported a decision, it was considered the will of the court.

Usually, if five of the Regents agreed, it was passed.

The Emperor's opinion only mattered when the Regents were evenly split four to four.

As Emperor, Ji Ji Zhao Shun certainly didn't want to face such a stalemate.

So on minor issues, he had been steadily asserting his voice.

Today was his first decision on a major matter.

To ensure passage, he compromised between the inner court and outer court proposals, seeking broader support.

As expected, several Regents showed him face, refraining from openly opposing him.

With a good start, Ji Ji Zhao Shun felt more confident about assuming personal rule.

By convention, after the mourning period ended, he would be formally enthroned.

After this year, he could change the era name and enter a new age.

Then came the imperial wedding, the coronation of the Empress, followed by the assumption of personal rule.

If all went smoothly, by this time next year, he could rule in person.

A mere year of regency by the Regents was acceptable as a transition.

…

Nanjingcheng.

News of the Emperor's death spread; the entire realm entered mourning, and all places of entertainment shut down.

The bustling streets had become desolate.

The worst off were those in the middle of weddings, who immediately swapped their wedding robes for mourning attire upon hearing the news.

The higher the official rank of a family, the more strictly they observed mourning rituals.

Under the auspices of the Six Ministries of Nanjing, numerous officials gathered to perform a ritual offering toward the imperial capital.

Blending into the crowd, Li Mu noticed his social standing had improved considerably.

Civil officials who had once looked down on military officers now greeted him warmly.

Had the timing been right, he suspected his invitation pile would have filled an entire room.

The allure of power is just that mysterious.

The distinction between civil and military officials had already blurred after becoming a regent.

Although the Tianyuan Emperor had divided responsibilities among the regents before his death, that was merely his final instruction to the new sovereign.

To the outside world, Da Yu had now entered the era of the Eight Regents.

Of the eight regents, two were Li Mu, making his connections even more obvious.

The most direct effect was that orders issued by the Ministry of War were executed far more swiftly.

Progress on the shipbuilding project also improved significantly.

To accelerate efficiency, the Nanjing Ministry of Works had drawn skilled artisans from other shipyards.

The shipyard's required materials were now given priority supply.

The military pay promised by the Nanjing Provincial Governor's office had, for the first time, arrived without embezzlement.

Li Mu accepted all the goodwill offered to him without refusal.

In less than half a month, his network had spread to every office in Nanjing, large and small.

"Lady, we can't stay in Nanjing—let's set off for Yangzhou at once!"

Hearing Li Mu's words, Jing Jing Yaqing rolled her eyes.

It's not that we can't stay—it's that our business is done and our connections are already expanded.

If we remain here any longer, people will come knocking, asking for favors.

One moment they call you brother, the next they turn their back—no, that won't do.

But helping others isn't easy either.

With the capital's situation still unclear, making any promises now would be unwise.

The best choice is to leave quickly and return to Yangzhou to lie low.

If someone is smart, they'll understand what I mean and won't come calling now.

"Don't worry, my husband.

Everything's already packed; the boats have been waiting at the dock for days, ready to depart anytime.

With things as they are, Nanjing has nothing left worth seeing—better to return sooner.

It's been ten days without a letter from home—I wonder how things are in the capital."

Hearing his wife's grumbling, Li Mu didn't know what to say.

The distance from Nanjing to the capital is over two thousand li—ten days isn't even enough for a letter to arrive.

A five-hundred-li urgent courier is only used when a major crisis occurs.

Normally, family letters are sent slowly via canal boats, as tradition dictates.

"Relax—the new emperor has already ascended.

Even if there's some turbulence, nothing major will happen.

Any risk is someone else's risk.

As noble families, as long as we don't meddle in court politics, we won't face serious trouble."

Li Mu reassured her.

From the current situation, the Jing and Li families' positions at court remain very secure.

Securing a regent position proves both families still stand at the center of power after this political reshuffle.

The new emperor's greatest need is stability.

Even if the emperor wants to stir things up, he must wait until his position is solid.

For the Jing and Li families as regents, the main political risk lies in when the emperor assumes personal rule.

Li Mu wasn't overly concerned about these matters.

His father-in-law and uncle were seasoned court veterans, far more adept in political maneuvering than he was.

If they sensed real danger, they could simply step down.

Political purges were unlikely to occur.

When civil officials fell, they were usually purged along with their factions to make room for newcomers.

Military officers were hereditary by nature; the army consisted either of noble families or military clans.

Pull one hair, and the whole body moves.

The emperor could kill a few civil officials without consequence, but if he killed military officers without cause, it would trigger a major crisis.

This was the cost of civil control over the military: suppressing the military politically required appeasement in other areas.

The rise of the retainer system provided the best protection for military officers' personal safety.

(End of Chapter)