Chapter 26: Breakthrough

Grabbing someone directly from the Censorate, where every yamen soldier and servant was a witness, made secrecy impossible.

The news of the Left Censor-in-Chief’s arrest spread through the court officials at lightning speed.

Anyone with even a shred of political sense knew the eunuch faction had broken convention once again—this was a sign of major trouble ahead.

Hou Fu.

He had just finished telling his uncle about the day’s events when he received word that Xu Wenyue had been imprisoned.

“The Left Censor-in-Chief arrested—this court is growing ever more lively. What do you think?”

Li Yuan asked with a smile.

When Li Mu first entered the mansion, he had merely thought his nephew had potential and simply wanted to give him a push.

As Li Mu’s abilities continued to emerge, Li Yuan realized this nephew was no ordinary fish, and immediately increased his investment.

To cultivate Li Mu’s political acumen, he frequently tested him with court affairs and occasionally imparted official tactics.

Beyond connections and background, these invisible court experiences were equally core competencies for aristocratic families.

Trying to figure it all out alone, without ten or even eight years of grinding in the bureaucracy, made it nearly impossible to grasp the underlying patterns.

“Uncle, Grand Secretary Xu’s sudden arrest is likely tied to the Sacred Tablet case.

Today, the Eastern Depot crushed the scholar petitions with brute force—their absurd ‘pointing at a deer and calling it a horse’ maneuver terrified a crowd of students, yet couldn’t silence public opinion.

Now, arresting the Left Censor-in-Chief leaves the Censorate leaderless.

Even if the Pure Stream faction retaliates later, without the Censorate as their cannon, their attack will lose three-tenths of its force.”

Li Mu analyzed calmly.

He truly didn’t know how to judge the eunuchs’ actions today.

Quickly quelling the scholar petitions was undoubtedly correct, but the ‘pointing at a deer and calling it a horse’ stunt was utterly baffling.

The originator of that idiom toppled a great empire.

To imitate it publicly—what would the Emperor think?

Even if he doesn’t act now, he can’t help but suspect.

When court officials are suspected, the Emperor must carefully plot to remove them.

A single misstep, and he’d be vilified in the historical records.

The eunuchs are different—their power comes entirely from the Emperor’s trust.

Once that trust is lost, even the most illustrious position vanishes in an instant.

“Your analysis is sound, but these are merely surface appearances.

Among all court officials, Xu Wenyue’s abilities rank among the top ten. When he reformed the grain transport system, his performance stunned many.

Unfortunately, after arriving in the capital, he quickly lost his bearings to power. Especially after his failed promotion to the Grand Secretariat, he went mad.

To gain advantage in the court deliberations, he resorted to any means necessary.

Not only did he incite the Censors to wildly impeach and smear rivals, he even used the Emperor himself to boost his reputation.

He had no shortage of achievements or prestige.

Given the current trajectory, Xu Wenyue’s promotion to the Grand Secretariat was merely a matter of time—even the Emperor couldn’t stop it.

Precisely because his advantage was so overwhelming, it became his death sentence.

The Emperor didn’t want someone who mocked him to enter the Grand Secretariat.

Once the precedent was set, everyone would follow suit, and governance would collapse.

The Chief Grand Secretary is elderly, his health and energy greatly diminished.

Three months ago, he submitted his resignation, but the Emperor, fearing disruption to court balance, desperately persuaded him to stay.

No matter how hard the Emperor pleaded, the Chief Grand Secretary is over eighty—change is inevitable within the next one or two years.

All four Grand Secretaries are preparing actively, each unwilling to face a colleague with exceptionally high prestige, which would introduce more uncertainty.

During his tenure as Left Censor-in-Chief, Xu Wenyue was always the fiercest anti-eunuch vanguard, and the eunuch faction longed to eliminate him.

Even without the Sacred Tablet case, the eunuch faction would have found another charge to bring him down.”

Li Yuan shook his head.

In court, the Left Censor-in-Chief was originally a position of great independence.

Holding the Censorate, with authority to supervise all officials, he answered only to the Emperor.

Logically, at such a critical post, Xu Wenyue should have been a target eagerly courted by all factions.

Yet, in his haste to become a player rather than a pawn, he unknowingly sealed his own doom.

“Uncle, Xu is still a second-rank official of the court. Would the eunuch faction truly dare to accuse him of treason?”

Li Mu asked hesitantly.

High-level political struggles were too distant from his life—even with two lifetimes, this was his first direct encounter with elite power games.

“It’s not him who committed treason—it’s some senior minister of the Pure Stream faction.

At this stage of factional strife, a high-ranking official must be sacrificed to bring the conflict to a close.

Xu Wenyue was too active—he destroyed himself. Had he learned even a fraction of Grand Secretary Pang’s restraint, he could have escaped unscathed.

Rest easy. Within three days at most, this case will be settled.

The eunuch faction won’t give the Pure Stream faction any time to rescue him—this time, Xu Wenyue must die!”

Li Yuan sneered.

His tone revealed no affection for Xu Wenyue—perhaps they’d even clashed privately, since censors impeaching nobles was routine.

…

At midnight, Grand Secretary Pang, publicly declared comatose, sat alone under the moon, sipping wine in melancholy.

As the other leader of the Zhe Party in court, his feelings toward Xu Wenyue were most complex.

He had originally intended to groom Xu as his political successor, but due to various reasons, he now had no choice but to abandon this rising star of the Zhe Party.

“Grand Secretary, you mustn’t exhaust yourself.

The court situation is shifting rapidly, and Grand Secretary Xu is now imprisoned under false charges—everyone awaits your leadership!”

The white-robed scholar beside him urged.

Pretending to be ill was one thing; being truly ill was another.

To many, Grand Secretary Pang’s decision to feign illness and avoid danger seemed cowardly—but his mastery of feigned weakness had once again saved him.

“Master Yan, do you think I should intervene to save Shufeng?

If I speak now, the eunuch faction won’t dare torture him—then there’s still room to maneuver.”

Grand Secretary Pang asked bitterly.

“Grand Secretary, you have your own considerations.

Grand Secretary Xu is wronged—this is entirely due to the eunuch faction’s vile conduct. Even ‘pointing at a deer and calling it a horse’? They deserve death!”

Master Yan hastily explained.

Some things can be thought, but never spoken aloud.

Even a second-rank official like the Left Censor-in-Chief, the Zhe Party’s number two, can become a disposable pawn—what of a mere advisor like me?

“Master Yan, you’ve misjudged this time.

Those who want Xu dead aren’t just the eunuchs—it’s the Emperor, the other Grand Secretaries, even those inconspicuous nobles who are behind-the-scenes instigators.

With so many wanting him dead, do you think I can save him?”

Grand Secretary Pang’s words left Master Yan drenched in cold sweat.

These words shouldn’t be spoken—and certainly not heard by him.

Before one’s status rises, knowing too much can get you killed.

“Look, I’ve frightened you!

It’s not as dire as you imagine—it’s merely court balance.

If the Zhe Party gains two Grand Secretaries and absorbs the Pure Stream faction… hmm…”

(End of Chapter)