Chapter 884: Obedient

Yu Qian said solemnly: "Your Highness, throughout history, emperors who firmly believed in Buddhism or Daoism and used religion to govern the state always brought chaos to their nations..."

"My lord, rest assured—Daoist Pan also told me this: whether it's Buddhism, Daoism, Confucianism, Legalism, Military strategy, or any other school, one must never fully believe, but also never fully disbelieve."

Yu Qian was speechless.

Zhu Qiyu: "All men have selfish motives. Governing must focus on matters, not people. My elder brother... he is too merciful. He always trusts those around him and forgets to judge the rightness of matters themselves—that is why this disaster occurred."

Yu Qian:...

Zhu Qiyu's face was grave: "Daoist Pan said even her own words must not be fully trusted. When I make decisions, I must focus on matters, not people—I must not believe her simply because she proposed it."

Yu Qian watched him in silence.

Yet despite this, your expression of complete trust and reverence—where does it fulfill her advice? Clearly, Zhu Qiyu listened to Pan Yun, but her words were useless to her; they were applied only to others.

This was not a good thing—it gave Yu Qian the feeling he was seeing a second Wang Zhen.

Wasn't the late emperor's excessive trust in Wang Zhen precisely what caused the court's growing chaos?

But it was not entirely terrible either, because Pan Yun was not Wang Zhen.

Yu Qian had not met her for the first time; they had collaborated before. Strictly speaking, this was their second collaboration.

The first was during last year's southern floods and military disasters.

Whether the first time or this time, Yu Qian could always sense Pan Yun's compassion for the common people.

Aside from her identity as a Daoist Priest, Yu Qian could call her a kindred spirit.

Had she not been destined to become State Preceptor and intervene in state affairs, the two might truly have become lifelong friends across generations.

Given the precedent of the emperor's rebellion, Yu Qian dared not be too forceful—who knew if they might inherit the same trait? What if he felt pressured, felt cornered, and rebelled too? After all, their father was stubborn; the emperor inherited his stubbornness but not his wisdom. Who knows which trait the Prince of Cheng inherited—or if he inherited any at all...

Yu Qian felt uneasy, constantly reassuring himself inside: Pan Yun is better than a eunuch, better than any outsider whose character is unknown.

Yu Qian soothed himself into acceptance, reluctantly refrained from opposing—but did not warn Zhu Qiyu against telling others.

If only someone could test the Prince of Cheng's true nature.

Yu Qian sighed. Everyone says the Prince of Cheng is gentle and compliant, but he saw a stubborn resilience in him—even stronger than the emperor's.

And a truly gentle man would never have the courage to personally lead troops to the frontier while the emperor was captured and presumed dead.

Moreover, before departure, he quietly told Yu Qian: if captured, he would kill himself immediately—not become a burden to the state.

For this alone, Yu Qian viewed him through a filter of favor, and was willing to be more lenient toward him.

Yu Qian's plan still came to nothing—no one dared test the Prince of Cheng.

The Prince of Cheng behaved too obediently: Yu Qian proposed dividing troops to ensure complete annihilation and expulsion of the remaining Tatar forces; generals swiftly drafted a cleanup plan, and the Prince of Cheng immediately stamped and nodded, agreeing to all; ministers said the gathering armies here were draining resources, and troops from Henan, Jiangxi, and Shandong could depart first; the Prince of Cheng stamped and nodded; ministers also said the emperor's coffin had been returned to Jingcheng, and as Regent and heir, the Prince of Cheng could not remain outside long—he must choose a date to return; the Prince of Cheng nodded repeatedly, letting the Bureau of Astrology select the auspicious day;

Even when generals like Kuang Ye and Yang Hong requested the emperor leave behind some cannons and matchlocks, the Prince of Cheng, after consulting Yu Qian and the Ministry of Works, also nodded in agreement.

The ministers accompanying the court were moved to tears—such a responsive emperor, they had not seen in many years.

Especially during this period of repeated blows, whenever they offered advice—right or wrong—the emperor always rejected it; eventually, they could not even meet him face-to-face.

With such a responsive next emperor, the battered ministers could not bear to test his true nature.

Having long played the obedient prince, the Prince of Cheng excelled at silence and caution—he would never speak unless ministers raised it first.

Combined with Pan Yun's warning, no one else knew the Prince of Cheng intended to appoint her as State Preceptor—only Yu Qian had glimpsed his intent.

Thus, they departed smoothly and returned to Jingcheng without incident.

Xue Xuan may have guessed something; he sighed deeply, and as they neared Jingcheng, he summoned his nephew: "What are your plans for the future?"

Xue Shao thought a moment: "The court is in dire need of talent—I shall remain in Jingcheng to serve."

He had been dismissed by the emperor, having angered Wang Zhen; now both men were dead, his actual charges were flimsy—he could report to the Ministry of Personnel and await reappointment.

Especially since many officials accompanying the court died in battle, including mid- and lower-ranking officers from the Six Ministries.

With the new emperor's ascension, Jingcheng's bureaucracy must change—and change drastically! Xue Xuan stared fixedly at him.

Xue Shao lowered his eyes, avoiding his uncle's gaze, yet stood rigidly—clearly unwilling to yield under his stare.

Xue Xuan watched him for a long while; seeing his resolve unshaken, he looked away: "You're as stubborn as I am. Fine."

Xue Shao's lips curled slightly.

Xue Xuan asked: "What exactly are you planning?"

Xue Shao: "For the sake of all under heaven."

Only then did Xue Xuan give a slight nod and let it go.

Xue Xuan watched him depart with a complex expression. After long investigations by the Court of Judicial Review, the Ministry of Justice, and the Censorate, they ultimately decided to blame the Tatars' internal strife—claiming the emperor's death was caused by Aral Zhiyuan, who allied with the Mingyin Sect to assassinate the emperor and frame Yisan.

This would be written in memorials—but whether the Empress Dowager and court ministers would accept it, no one knew.

This case might become an unsolved mystery for all time.

Fortunately, they acted with integrity, and their actions truly relieved Great Ming's crisis—otherwise...

Xue Xuan did not know what "otherwise" might mean. Without evidence, none would confess; labeling suspicion as truth violated his principles.

Xue Xuan was loyal to the throne, but not so blindly that he abandoned his principles.

Take Yu Qian—he too was loyal to the throne, but he loved the people more.

Thus, even though he sensed Pan Yun's emergence might harm the emperor and the Zhu imperial family, he chose silence, because of her character and ability.

A capable person who seeks to benefit the people will inevitably seize power and wealth from entrenched interests. Today's greatest beneficiaries are the imperial house and the parasites clinging to power.

Yu Qian foresaw that once Pan Yun ascended to the position of State Preceptor, the court would be engulfed in ceaseless strife.

And the consequence of such strife would either strengthen the emperor's authority—or weaken it.

Through observation over this period, Yu Qian had already foreseen the outcome.