Chapter 2: Hou Fu Night Banquet

“Nephew greets Uncle and Aunt…”

Li Mu bowed respectfully.

In feudal dynasties, etiquette was paramount; a breach could invite ridicule for lack of upbringing or even cost one’s life.

Any behavior exceeding the norms of the age was irresponsible toward oneself.

“We are family—no need for such formalities!”

These past days, your uncle has spoken of you often.

Five years have passed in the blink of an eye; Mu’er has grown into a man.

Your several cousins are all at Tonghe Academy; they won’t return until month’s end.

These two are your female cousins—what are you standing there for? Come, greet your kinship elder brother.”

No sooner had the Lady of Hou Fu finished speaking than two girls stepped forward, bowing in unison:

“Greetings, Elder Brother!”

The elder cousin was seven, shy and blushing.

The younger cousin was only four, her eyes darting constantly, her face brimming with curiosity.

“Greetings, dear cousins!”

After brief pleasantries, the banquet began at once.

Feudal rites permeated every detail: the entire table of dishes was served only to Li Mu and the Marquis of Zhenyuan.

The women dined separately in the back courtyard, at another table.

…

“Mu’er, what is your view of the court’s current situation?”

The moment the Marquis of Zhenyuan spoke, Li Mu knew the examination had begun.

In court, one need not be capable—but political insight must never falter.

The closer the political ally, the more vital mutual understanding becomes.

A single incompetent ally can do more damage than a thousand enemy soldiers.

“Chaos!”

The court’s factions are intricately entangled.

The Pure Stream and the Eunuch Faction are locked in bitter struggle; the Conservatives and Reformers are utterly opposed.

Below them lie regional factions: the Zhe Party, Chu Party, Jin Party, Qin Party, Lu Party, Hui Party, Liaodong Faction…

Nearly every high official bears multiple labels; their political stance shifts constantly, making accurate positioning nearly impossible.

Your nephew is far away in Hanzhong—I simply cannot untangle the court’s factions.

Yet the main conflict remains between civil officials and eunuchs; our military have long been marginalized and rarely join these struggles.”

Li Mu replied frankly.

The situation in Great Yu was as complex as the late Ming.

An official’s factional affiliation was often not a matter of choice, but determined by birth and location.

“To hold such understanding shows you’ve truly matured.

The capital’s situation is even more complex than you perceive.

The Emperor wishes to accomplish too much at once; the court cannot keep pace, hence the current chaos.

Yet his intentions are good—only his youth and impetuosity make him act too hastily.”

The Marquis of Zhenyuan’s words startled Li Mu; though seemingly defending Emperor Tianyuan, his tone brimmed with deep resentment.

Though Great Yu did not punish speech alone, openly criticizing the Emperor would still bring serious trouble if word spread.

To voice this openly, beyond the influence of alcohol, must mean his grievances had reached their limit.

Recalling Emperor Tianyuan’s actions since ascending the throne, Li Mu instantly understood.

Since taking power, the Emperor had rushed to announce reforms, issuing a series of policies:

“Reduction of Redundant Officials,” “Reform of the Imperial Clan System,” “Mining Tax Levy,” “Reorganization of the Capital Garrison”…

Individually, each reform carried great significance for Great Yu.

As nobles deeply entwined with the court, they least wished to see the state decline and generally supported most reforms.

Li Yuan had once been a core force among the reformers—until last year, when the Emperor ordered the “Reorganization of the Capital Garrison.”

At the time, Li Mu was still in Hanzhong observing mourning; he knew little of the details, but the outcome was a crushing blow to the noble clans.

Following the Emperor’s will, the Capital Garrison, centered on the Twelve Regiments, was reduced by thirty percent; elite troops were drawn from the Capital Garrison and border armies to form the Five Armies Garrison.

The military reorganization itself was not the core issue—the key conflict lay in personnel appointments.

The senior officers of the Five Armies Garrison were mostly promoted from border regions; noble descendants held only marginal posts, nearly excluded from the center of power.

Even after the Emperor offered consolation, this act of distrust left the nobles heartbroken.

With the rift between Emperor and nobles, the civil official faction naturally seized the opportunity.

Vast resources flowed toward the Five Armies Garrison; the already weak noble faction’s influence in court further diminished.

With their core interests damaged, even the nobles who had once staunchly supported the Emperor now shifted subtly in stance.

“Uncle, rest assured.

I came to the capital solely to assume my post; all other matters are none of my concern.

Aside from awaiting official appointment, I shall remain within the mansion!”

Li Mu declared at once.

He dared not touch such sensitive topics involving the Emperor.

As one of the noble faction’s representatives in court, the Marquis of Zhenyuan could vent over wine—but Li Mu, a mere junior, could not.

“You understand the stakes—that’s enough; no need to stay cooped up in the mansion every day.

You must still visit relatives and old friends, maintain those ties, or they will fade.

As for your native faction, visit selectively based on circumstances.

You are not yet an official; these normal social exchanges require no excessive caution.

Your post as Commander of Hanzhong Garrison is a solid start, but its growth is too limited—you’ll struggle to advance further.

In a few days, I’ll arrange for you to meet key power-brokers among the nobles.

Three Battalion Commander posts in the Five City Military Command are vacant; the Emperor intends to open the selection publicly. I plan to recommend you—try for it, then be posted out after a few years.”

Li Yuan smiled warmly.

Clearly, he was pleased with Li Mu’s response.

“Uncle, won’t this be too much trouble for you?”

Li Mu said, looking troubled.

In Hanzhong, as Garrison Commander, he was a top figure—everyone gave him respect.

But in the capital, things changed: in this world of nobles everywhere, he was nothing.

Everyone wants to climb higher—but one must consider reality.

In his past life, he had been a 996 office drone, with extremely limited understanding of politics.

Watching from outside, one might analyze advantages and discern truths—but once inside the system, it became far less certain.

Even with the Hou Fu’s political resources behind him, a nephew was not a son.

Offering one opportunity was acceptable; expecting long-term political patronage would be naive.

The Hou Fu lineage had multiplied into countless branches; alone in the capital, there were eight family lines.

Remote nephews like Li Mu numbered dozens—there was no way to support them all.

“I know your concerns—don’t worry too much; just follow my plan!

The capital is not like the provinces; though the situation here is complex, the platform is vast, and opportunities abound.

Twenty years of effort in the provinces equals no more than five years in the capital.

Even if your official rank remains unchanged upon posting out, the connections you make here will benefit you for life.”

…

Realizing his uncle was serious, Li Mu abandoned his desire to refuse.

Though it seemed like a demotion, capital officials were always more prestigious than provincial ones, and actual posts were scarce.

Such an opportunity, if offered elsewhere, would be fought over desperately; to refuse now would be ungrateful.

Young sapling just sprouted—please give it care.





(End of Chapter)