Chapter 61

Upon hearing this, all ministers were startled and turned to look over.

Zhao Ti was a prince, yet held no official post or assignment, never attended court, and had never submitted a memorial—what could possibly be the matter today?

“Prince Yan, please speak,” Zhao Xu leaned forward slightly on his dragon throne, his expression calm, though his fists beneath the desk clenched tightly.

Zhao Ti smiled, sweeping his gaze across the hall: “Your servant humbly petitions Your Majesty to abolish the old laws and restore the new ones!”

“What?” The ministers froze in shock; the grand hall fell silent, even the jinshi who stood far back without official rank stood dumbfounded.

“Prince Yan, elaborate!” Zhao Xu’s face flushed faintly red; that contradictory aura vanished momentarily, replaced solely by intense focus.

Zhao Ti raised his court tablet: “Your Majesty, Your servant believes the old laws are riddled with flaws, bloated and cumbersome, no longer suited to the times or the needs of court and people. Though the new laws have imperfections, they can be corrected and refined—their advantages far outweigh those of the old. Hence, I humbly petition Your Majesty to restore the new laws!”

“You—you’re speaking nonsense!” Only now did the ministers react, nearly all turning pale.

The Old Faction, needless to say, even the most learned scholars, wore furious, snarling expressions; the Grand Chancellor and the Six Ministries’ ministers glared with biting rage.

Meanwhile, some dormant New Faction members sat stunned, hearts reeling, hands trembling so badly they could barely hold their ivory tablets.

New Law! For over a decade, who dared mention restoring it? To speak of it in court was merely to attack rivals and seize power under its guise!

“Prince Yan, you’re spouting falsehoods and babbling nonsense!” Minister of Rites Liang Dao stepped forward from his rank, trembling with rage.

Zhao Ti glanced at him: “Aren’t you, Minister Liang, already retired to the Zizheng Hall and appointed overseer of Liquan Pavilion? If you’re ill, rest properly—why force yourself to come here, unable to bear solitude? And why speak so disrespectfully? Your office does not match your virtue; your words do not accord with reason—how can you possibly lead the Ministry of Rites?”

“I—” Liang Dao snapped back: “As a prince without official duties, how dare you meddle in state affairs?”

Zhao Ti sneered: “I merely submit my views to the throne. Minister Liang, have you been framed and falsely accused so often in the past that you now wish to pin a big hat of treason on me too?”

“You, you—”

Zhao Ti raised his tablet again: “Your Majesty, I urge you now to rectify the flaws in the new laws and restore them immediately, fully abolishing the old ones!”

“Prince Yan, you are mistaken!” Left Vice Minister and Head of the Menxia Department Lu Dafang stepped forward from his rank: “Since you hold no official post, you know nothing of court affairs—how can you speak recklessly of the new laws?”

Zhao Ti glanced at him: “I heard you previously submitted a memorial to resign from your chancellorship—so why are you here now? Are you greedy for fame and power, polishing your reputation, feigning retirement to pressure the sovereign?”

“You—you’re speaking nonsense—”

“Where did I speak wrongly? If you truly wished to retire and enjoy the countryside, wouldn’t you resign, leave with clean sleeves and empty hands? Why this contradiction, these inconsistent words—if not a deliberate ploy to lure and trap?”

“The new laws must not be restored; the old laws must not be abolished! Prince Yan, do not disrupt the court!”

Zhao Ti smiled faintly: “If all who cling to the old laws are as selfish and scheming as you, Minister Lu, then better to discard them entirely!”

“Prince Yan, what exactly do you intend?” Another man stepped forward from the ranks—it was Right Vice Minister and Acting Secretary of the Zhongshu Department, Fan Chunren, son of Fan Zhongyan and also a member of the Old Faction.

“Prince Yan, the Emperor has now assumed personal rule, holding court amid celebrations from all quarters—why bring up this law that brings ruin to the state and suffering to the people? What is your true intent?”

Zhao Ti cast him a cold, sidelong glance: “Minister Fan, don’t bring shame upon your father, the Wenzheng Duke.”

The Wenzheng Duke was Fan Zhongyan; Fan Chunren was his second son.

Fan Chunren’s face turned ashen with rage; he turned toward the imperial dais: “Your Majesty, do not listen to Prince Yan’s nonsense! Who would have thought he concealed himself so deeply—he must be the leader of the New Faction, his intentions dark and inscrutable!”

Zhao Xu, on the dais, stirred his eyebrows slightly—concealed so deeply? Is he speaking of Prince Yan… or of me?

Some New Faction members on either side of the hall exchanged glances—they had never known Prince Yan was one of them, had never heard of it. Not even in private meetings to plot against the Old Faction, nor in daily interactions, had they ever exchanged more than a word or two.

Zhao Ti said: “Your Majesty, Minister Fan is senile, speaking without restraint—he claims the New Faction’s leader has dark, inscrutable intentions.”

Zhao Xu’s expression darkened: “Hmm…”

“Your Majesty, Prince Yan’s actions today are bizarre—do not believe him!” Su Zhe stepped forward from his rank.

“Prince Yan, your words are vile. As a member of the imperial clan, how dare you mislead the Emperor? Your moral character is corrupt, your conduct unjust—please, Your Majesty, demote him and hold him accountable as punishment!”

Zhao Ti narrowed his eyes at Su Zhe: “Minister Su.”

“Prince Yan, what have you to say? Have I struck at your core, forcing you to admit your guilt? Then quickly explain yourself to the Emperor and apologize to the ministers!” Su Zhe declared loudly.

All eyes turned to Zhao Ti; Su Zhe attacked his morality because Su Zhe himself had always upheld virtue, never once fallen short.

Zhao Ti looked at Su Zhe and sighed: “Minister Su, you speak to me of morality and conduct? Have you never heard: ‘If a son is untaught, it is the father’s fault’? You brandish morality as your banner, yet fail to restrain your own household—what kind of moral gentleman are you?”

“What do you mean, Prince Yan?” Su Zhe’s heart leapt; a dread feeling surged over him.

Zhao Ti reached into his robe and pulled out the deposition Su Yuan had written that day, tossing it at Su Zhe. He wasn’t afraid Su Zhe would destroy it—he had Su Yuan write two copies, and dozens of imperial guards had witnessed it: the son of a current minister had established a gang outside, extorting protection money from dock laborers.

“What… what is this?” Su Zhe’s eyes widened; he snatched it up, read it, and his expression changed instantly.

Officials from the Censorate, noticing his odd demeanor, leaned over to see what was written on the paper.

Su Zhe’s hands trembled; suddenly he shoved the paper into his mouth, chewed it a few times, and swallowed it whole.

Everyone froze. A Censorate attendant, long marginalized and never daring to speak in court, stepped forward: “What are you doing, Minister Su? In broad daylight, before the Son of Heaven—how can you behave so improperly? Did Prince Yan’s paper reveal some filthy, secret crime of yours?!”

Su Zhe said nothing, retreated to his rank, shut his eyes tightly, refused to look at anyone, and uttered not another word.

“Prince Yan, I’ve heard you spend your days wielding spears and swords, acting like a coarse soldier—how could you possibly understand court or Jianghu affairs? Your reckless words are heretical and utterly senseless!” Another man stepped forward—it was the Minister of Justice.

Zhao Ti glanced at him coldly, then pointed: “A man who defies the sovereign—how dare you speak to me of court and Jianghu ? Do you know the price of grain per sheng? The cost of greens per jin? Do you know the suffering of the people, their worries?”

“Prince Yan, don’t evade! You only know how to swing swords—you understand nothing of court affairs! You’re babbling nonsense, wasting the Emperor’s time—you, you are unforgivably guilty…” The Old Faction surged forward, shouting at Zhao Ti in unison.

Zhao Ti smiled coldly, lips curling, and lifted his gaze to the ceiling.