Chapter 472: Eavesdropping

Yang Shiqi, seeing this, could not hide his disappointment; he slowly sat back down in his chair. "All of you are pillars of the imperial court, watched by the people, entrusted with the fate of the state—do not forget that the common folk must come first."

Seeing them all bow their heads in silence, Yang Shiqi waved his hand gently and sighed. "It's late. Return to your homes."

Those present rose, bowed to Yang Shiqi, and exited in orderly fashion.

Pan Yun furrowed her brows, pondering how she would persuade Yang Shiqi once she went downstairs—when Yang Pu returned.

Pan Yun's eyes lit up; she pulled another tile loose and lay flat on the roof, half her head already leaning into the room.

Her round, plump head blocked the gap completely, letting not a single sliver of moonlight slip in—and thus, neither of the men inside noticed the half-head peering down at them, eyes sharp and fixed.

Yang Shiqi seemed to expect his return; he picked up the teapot and poured him a cup himself.

Yang Pu took the cup, sipped lightly, and sighed. "You're willing to relinquish power, and I have no desire for authority—then why does Your Majesty support Wang Zhen to oppose us?"

A shadow of sorrow and worry passed through Yang Shiqi's eyes. "The Emperor has made mistakes, yet remains proud. He lacks prestige in court. Look around—how many officials truly revere him?"

Yang Pu: "Prestige takes time to accumulate, especially in times of peace. The court is stable now. The Emperor need only preserve the status quo. A ruler who preserves must be steady—he need only wait."

Yang Shiqi raised his hand to cut him off. "Then tell me: should the Emperor investigate the silver mines of Jiangnan and coastal smuggling? Should the court reform them?"

After a moment's silence, Yang Pu said: "Yes."

He rose, paced in a circle, remained silent for a long while, then spun sharply. "But he should not have elevated Wang Zhen to clash with the Jiangnan gentry, officials, and imperial clans. The law exists—he is Emperor. Why not act solely against the issues?"

"If everyone thought as you do, there would be no factional strife," Yang Shiqi said. "Factional strife, at its root, is never about issues—it's always about people."

Yang Pu sat down angrily, his face flushed. "You don't know how ashamed I was a few days ago when Xue Shao confronted me to my face—I couldn't even speak up! Oh, oh—I'm humiliated!"

Yang Shiqi, seeing him slap the armrest three times, hurriedly said: "Gently! Don't break my chair."

Hearing this, Yang Pu slammed it even harder—"Ssshh!"—and hurt his own hand.

Yang Shiqi couldn't help but chuckle; his mood lightened slightly. "Xue Shao—is he Xue Xuan's nephew?"

"Yes," Yang Pu said. "A top-scorer in the imperial exams, yet only granted second-rank Top Graduate. Fortunately, that night, Your Majesty stood on the Star Gazing Terrace all night and came to his senses—otherwise, he'd have failed and been imprisoned."

Yang Shiqi smiled. "So you see, our Emperor still has merit. Don't be too harsh on him."

The topic grew heavy again; Yang Pu fell silent.

Yang Shiqi urged him: "We are old men. The Emperor is still young. When we were his age, we were far from perfect. Rather than blame him, urge them to yield."

"If the Emperor thrives, the people thrive—and so will they."

Yang Pu: "I've urged them before—but I cannot move them. Once something is in their mouths, how can they possibly spit it out?"

On the roof, Pan Yun grew frantic. Seeing them circle the same point for so long, she blurted: "If they won't spit it out, grab the duck and pull it out! If that fails, chop off their heads and dig the duck out from their throats and bellies!"

Yang Shiqi and Yang Pu's faces darkened instantly. "Who's there?"

Pan Yun flipped off the roof and glided into the room. "I'm Pan Yun of Long Hushan!" Seeing the ten-year-old girl before them, the two old men—combined age one hundred and fifty—exhaled in unison.

Yang Shiqi looked at her kindly, smiling. "You're Pan Hong's lost daughter?"

Pan Yun tilted her head. "Lost?"

"Yes," Yang Shiqi chuckled. "They say you once fell gravely ill and died. Your family even prepared a small coffin for you—but a Daoist Priest took you away. Later, your father and brother received word you were dead."

Pan Yun suddenly understood, nodding vigorously. "Yes, yes—that's exactly it! I was buried, then came back to life. Before I could tell my family, my father was arrested."

Yang Shiqi nodded with satisfaction. "Ruzike."

Pan Yun: "Senior Minister Yang—is this your idea for my father, or the Emperor's?"

"What difference does it make?" Yang Shiqi smiled. "I say it because the Emperor also believes this version of events."

Pan Yun pondered. "He sent me to Yunnan and cleared my father of the crime of deceiving the throne—is he planning to charge him with another crime? Or exile him to Datong?"

Yang Shiqi's eyes flickered; he smiled evasively. "Little Miss, isn't it good that Your Majesty cleared your father's name? Perhaps when you return from Yunnan, you and your father may be reunited."

Pan Yun snorted. "Senior Minister Yang, I'm not the same ignorant girl from Wu. This won't fool me."

!.

If my father's case were fully overturned, the charge of deceiving the throne would vanish entirely—and he could be restored to his post."

Pan Yun said: "The Emperor has made all these preparations merely to save my father's and my life. To spare us from the charge of deceiving the throne means my father will be accused of another crime—not capital."

Pan Yun paced inside the room. "My father cannot be exonerated because it would expose Wang Zhen's false accusations. The Emperor's move is to protect Wang Zhen."

"And he protects Wang Zhen to fight the Jiangnan faction of officials. The Emperor wants to pull the duck meat from their mouths—and to do so, he's willing to imprison Wang Zhen, the very man he cultivated."

"The Emperor has shown sincerity," Pan Yun sneered. "But they won't spit out the duck meat—and now they're trying to snatch the duck from His Majesty's hands."

Yang Shiqi and Yang Pu stared at her in shock.

Pan Yun whirled around, eyes icy. "How bold! Do they truly believe the young Emperor, lacking prestige, is powerless against them?"

Yang Shiqi's heart stirred. "But what can the Emperor do? Policies require men to carry them out. The lower and middle layers are united. Imperial authority never reaches the countryside. No matter how loudly or fiercely he shouts, it's useless."

Pan Yun: "Cut them down. Replace them."

Yang Shiqi bowed toward the palace. "The Taizu Emperor did exactly that. But the wind blows again, and new shoots grow."

Yang Pu: "Worse still—the people grow even more destitute."

Yang Shiqi: "Thus, killing cannot stop greed, nor can it halt officials from seeking personal or familial gain."

Pan Yun's anger surged like fire—but suddenly, her spiritual realm shifted; her dantian cooled. She snapped back to clarity.

Does the spiritual realm also calm and purify the mind?

(End of Chapter)