Chapter 38: Weighing Every Grain, Measuring Every Inch, Standing in Equal Opposition

“What? Chen Mingyan brought the man to Qianqing Palace!?”

Zhu Yijun exclaimed in shock.

Chen Mingyan was also Elder Sister Chen’s elder brother; alongside Chen Shanyan, they ranked fourth and third in their family, both holding the rank of Battalion Commander in the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Originally, a eunuch had denounced Feng Bao for harming Meng Chong, and the man was later handed over to Zhu Xizhong.

He had intended to test Elder Sister Chen’s intentions by delivering the man to her elder brother, Chen Shanyan.

Yet just now, Jiang Keqian rushed in to report that Chen Mingyan had brought the eunuch straight to Qianqing Palace.

What are these two brothers up to?

This left Zhu Yijun thoroughly baffled.

Jiang Keqian bowed and replied: “It is said that Chen Mingyan and Chen Shanyan confronted each other at the Zhenfu Office and seemed to have quarreled.”

“Then Chen Mingyan went to Chen Hong’s residence, scolded him, and immediately brought the eunuch to Qianqing Palace.”

Zhu Yijun frowned: “What did they quarrel about?”

Jiang Keqian recalled: “There were no bystanders at the time; none of the colleagues heard clearly.”

“We only caught fragments—Chen Mingyan said their father, a mere Supervising Student who rose to a seventh-rank official, now holds a noble title and enjoys the Emperor’s grace, and should keep the sovereign and father in his heart.”

“He also warned against getting too entangled with people like Chen Hong.”

He mimicked their words vividly.

Zhu Yijun’s expression turned strange—would such formal platitudes really be spoken during a quarrel?

He asked: “Where is he now?”

Jiang Keqian answered plainly: “He handed the man over to Zhang Hong and left.”

“Before leaving, he said, ‘The Emperor’s household servants are no business of the Embroidered Uniform Guard—everything rests solely on His Majesty’s decision.’”

This only deepened Zhu Yijun’s confusion.

This behavior looked more like Chen Hong acting on his own, provoking a rift between the two brothers.

But… wouldn’t it make more sense to seek Elder Sister Chen’s guidance? Why did they argue at all?

Jiang Keqian ventured cautiously: “Your Majesty, how shall we handle the man brought here?”

Zhu Yijun, still lost in thought, waved his hand dismissively: “Have Zhang Hong deliver him to my mother. Tell her it is my wish that he be sent to guard my late father’s tomb.”

The struggle had entered its next phase; this man was no longer important.

It was a pity he had not yet gauged Elder Sister Chen’s stance.

Jiang Keqian slowly withdrew.

Not long after, Zhu Xizhong hurried in from outside.

As soon as he arrived, he was eager to speak.

Zhu Yijun raised his hand to stop him, asking for a moment of quiet thought.

Zhu Xizhong had no choice but to wait silently.

After a long while, the Emperor’s voice came: “Zhu Qing, why the haste? What has happened?”

Zhu Xizhong seized the chance: “Your Majesty, just now at dusk, Feng Bao secretly left the palace!”

Zhu Yijun gave no reaction, only nodded, urging him to continue.

Zhu Xizhong went on: “Feng Bao personally went to Lu Diaoyang’s residence, and two other eunuchs rode out of the city toward Tian Shou Mountain!”

Tian Shou Mountain?

Zhu Yijun immediately understood—he was summoning Zhang Juzheng.

He muttered to himself: “So Gao Gong has driven him to desperation.”

This move was no empty gesture—he must have sensed Gao Gong’s scheme.

If so, and if he’s this terrified, Gao Gong’s plan must be substantial.

He looked up at Zhu Xizhong.

Asked: “Has the Chief Grand Secretary shown any trace at all?”

Gao Gong’s calm demeanor today made even the most observant suspect whether he was truly defeated or holding a hidden hand.

Especially since Zhu Yijun knew the future.

This Chief Grand Secretary never retired peacefully in history; now, with my help, he’s lost Feng Bao’s Eastern Depot—he certainly won’t fall faster than he did in history.

So what is Gao Gong planning?

Zhu Xizhong immediately knelt: “Your subject is incompetent.”

“After court, the Chief Grand Secretary locked himself at home; aside from Ge Shouli’s visit, he has taken no action whatsoever.”

“Whether his disciples like Han Ji or his in-laws like Cao Jin, all have been turned away.”

Zhu Yijun tapped his fingers on the desk, lost in thought.

Previously, when Cao Daye impeached Gao Gong, although Gao Gong formally petitioned for dismissal, he openly colluded during the court deliberation—every Minister of the Nine Departments, all Six Censorates, and every Censor submitted memorials pleading for Gao Gong to remain.

The scale of this support caused alarm throughout court and realm.

Though Yang Bo and Lu Diaoyang now oppose him,

he is far from powerless.

The Ministers of Personnel, Justice, and Revenue, the Chief of the Dalisi , all Six Censorates, and most of the Censorate are his men.

If he once again mobilizes them all to plead for his retention, both I and the Two Palaces must tread with extreme caution.

Yet now he refuses even his own disciples and old associates?

Zhu Yijun had asked Zhu Xizhong to keep watch, expecting this possibility.

But Gao Gong showing zero signs of collusion is even more chilling.

Zhu Yijun’s face grew grim—he had a premonition that Gao Gong’s resignation memorial would not be approved without struggle.

He ordered Zhu Xizhong: “Zhu Qing, assist Li Jin in taking control of the Eastern Depot.”

The Eastern Depot’s subordinate officers—the Chief of Punishment Battalion Commander and Chief of Justice Company Commander—are always filled by Embroidered Uniform Guard Battalion and Company Commanders, known as Attached Punishment Officers.

If these mid-level officers cooperate with a newly appointed chief, they can accelerate his consolidation of power manyfold.

The situation is complex—I must seize control of the inner court as quickly as possible!

…

June 16.

Zhu Yijun sat behind the imperial desk; court ministers gradually took their places.

Everything seemed normal.

But soon, someone noticed something amiss.

The foremost position in the lineup was empty—Gao Gong had absented himself from court!

Gao Gong, at the center of the storm, had not used his position as Chief Grand Secretary to stir up chaos during the court deliberation, as everyone expected.

Instead, he had not even appeared.

Instantly, ministers whispered among themselves, speculating wildly.

Some even suspected Gao Gong truly intended to retire.

Lu Diaoyang and Wang Guoguang exchanged glances.

Liu Ziqiang and Han Ji looked anxious, frequently casting questioning glances at Ge Shouli.

Zhang Suiwei had also come today; he leaned close to Yang Bo and whispered two sentences—both men wore expressions of shock and doubt.

After a moment, Zhang Suiwei spoke thoughtfully: “The Chief Grand Secretary said he must attend to other matters; today, I will preside over the Personnel Department’s deliberations.”

As Minister of Personnel, Gao Gong’s delegation of authority to Zhang Suiwei, his Vice Minister, was perfectly reasonable.

But… Yang Bo had only yesterday turned against Gao Gong and impeached him—how could he possibly allow Zhang Suiwei to represent Personnel at court?

Not just others—even Zhang Suiwei himself was confused.

Minister of Works Zhu Heng, uninvolved in these intrigues, only asked anxiously: “Court deliberation is court deliberation—today not a single Grand Secretary is present. How can we draft the draft edicts?”

He was eager to settle the summer flood control on the Yellow River, hoping their squabbles wouldn’t delay matters.

Luo Zun, the Personnel Department’s Censor accompanying Zhang Suiwei, had been instructed; he replied: “The Chief Grand Secretary said that as long as you all reach a consensus on any matter, he will draft the edict himself.”

He no longer cared about holding onto the power to draft edicts—the crucial moment to unify the ministers.

This only deepened the mystery.

At that moment, a voice came from above the imperial dais: “Luo Qing, what urgent matter could be more important than court deliberation?”

Zhu Yijun did not believe Gao Gong was waiting to retire.

Then what he was doing mattered all the more.

The Emperor’s sudden question left ministers with varied thoughts, yet all silently allowed it.

Not only was it the Emperor’s question—it was also the court’s own. All waited for Luo Zun’s answer.

Facing the Emperor, Luo Zun replied respectfully: “Your Majesty, I do not know.”

Hearing this, the ministers’ expressions varied.

Zhu Yijun gave Zhang Jing a glance, signaling him to send word to Jiang Keqian to deploy men and investigate.

Feng Bao, beside him, was even more direct—he summoned a eunuch and whispered two orders, clearly also curious about Gao Gong’s whereabouts.

“Gentlemen, the hour is late—let us begin the deliberations.”

Ge Shouli suddenly spoke, drawing everyone’s attention.

Minister of Works Zhu Heng, anxious about the Yellow River, agreed: “Yes, let us first deliberate.”

The ministers readily complied, returning to their positions.

As they passed Ge Shouli, they cast him extra glances.

Feng Bao couldn’t gauge Gao Yi’s intentions, but he couldn’t do nothing—Empress Li was waiting for Gao Yi’s resignation memorial!

He moved first, asking Tongzheng Office’s Han Ji: “Han Tongzheng, has the Grand Secretary’s resignation memorial arrived? Don’t let it go missing again.”

Matters not requiring coordination among ministries—such as a simple resignation memorial—naturally didn’t need court deliberation.

They were sent directly to the Tongzheng Office, or bypassed it entirely to the Directorate of Palace Affairs, then presented to His Majesty.

Han Ji, prepared, answered calmly: “The Grand Secretary’s memorial has reached the Tongzheng Office. Once sorted and filed, it will be sent into the palace.”

All memorials entering the palace were copied for archival purposes, so ministries could consult them—this was legitimate procedure.

But Feng Bao couldn’t wait: “Already at the Tongzheng Office? I’ll send someone to retrieve it right away!”

Without waiting for Han Ji’s reply, he ordered a eunuch to go to the Tongzheng Office and fetch the memorial.

He needed to get it into the palace immediately, complete the vermilion approval process!

That bastard Gao Yi must resign at once!

As the eunuch turned to leave, Ge Shouli suddenly called out: “Wait.”

All eyes turned to him.

Ge Shouli pulled a memorial from his sleeve: “Eunuch Feng, the Grand Secretary asked me to submit this memorial on his behalf. Why not wait until after court deliberation and submit them together?”

Others wore thoughtful expressions, but Feng Bao instantly understood.

He subtly dismissed Ge Shouli’s suggestion: “I don’t lack for manpower.”

The young eunuch, catching the hint, dashed straight for the Tongzheng Office.

After speaking, Feng Bao gave Lu Diaoyang a glance.

Lu Diaoyang picked up the thread: “Director Ge, what does this memorial concern?”

He knew the content well—but some things were said for others to hear.

Unfortunately, Ge Shouli had no interest in replying.

Ge Shouli’s face was expressionless: “I merely submitted it on his behalf. I haven’t read it.”

“Since it’s for court deliberation, it will be shown to all of you eventually. Minister Lu, don’t rush.”

Saying this, he moved to pass the memorial to the officials beside him.

“Stop!”

Feng Bao suddenly interrupted; Ge Shouli’s hand froze.

As all officials turned to him, Feng Bao said: “I knew nothing of this memorial from the Grand Secretary.”

Court deliberation had an agenda—otherwise, how would ministries know whom to send?

Now, an unexpected item has been inserted—this memorial lies outside the agenda, violating protocol.

Ge Shouli countered sharply: “This is an Inner Cabinet memorial.”

Meaning: Inner Cabinet memorials were drafted and proposed by the Cabinet itself; court deliberation was merely a formality. A last-minute addition was perfectly acceptable.

Feng Bao nodded: “That’s true, but…”

“Since I didn’t know beforehand, I couldn’t inform His Majesty in advance.”

“If His Majesty has come to hear governance, how can he be left in the dark?”

Silence fell suddenly in the Wenhua Hall.

Even Zhu Yijun couldn’t help lifting his head to glance at Feng Bao.

What do you mean, “I didn’t know, so I didn’t tell you”?

As if you’d ever informed me about anything else ahead of time.

But isn’t Feng Bao trying to drag me into this?

What could be in this memorial that makes Feng Bao so afraid—why must he force me to intervene?

And how is he so certain I’ll side with him?

Lu Diaoyang suddenly chimed in: “Exactly. Director Ge should present this memorial to His Majesty first.”

The officials’ gazes flickered between Ge Shouli and the imperial dais.

All were seasoned politicians—they sensed this was no ordinary matter.

Gao Yi, deeply embroiled in controversy, had broken from his usual pattern.

Not only had he failed to rally the Nine Ministers and censors to petition for his retention, but yesterday he turned away every disciple and old ally who came to visit.

And now this Director Ge, the only one granted entry to Gao Yi’s residence, suddenly wishes to submit a memorial on his behalf.

Worse still, the Director of Palace Affairs seems to know something—and insists the Emperor intervene.

The officials longed to read the truth from these men’s faces.

Ge Shouli had not yet responded.

Feng Bao impatiently shoved the nearby eunuch: “Go! Bring it!”

Zhu Yijun sensed something too; he leaned forward, trying to peer through the screen.

Ge Shouli said nothing, letting the eunuch take the memorial from his hands.

The young eunuch clutched the memorial, head bowed, daring not to glance at it.

Those who served in such roles knew the stakes—look at what you shouldn’t, and you’d lose your life.

Feng Bao snatched the memorial from the eunuch’s hands, impatiently.

He couldn’t casually open it—but a fleeting glance revealed the title: “Memorial on Five Urgent Reforms.”

Feng Bao drew a deep breath, suppressing his racing heart.

Gao Yi had truly submitted this memorial—openly, boldly!

Feng Bao didn’t know what Gao Yi’s leverage was.

But… this memorial must be crushed right here, in court deliberation.

He must bury it!

Feng Bao had no authority to block the memorial—but he glanced at the Emperor seated behind the imperial desk, lost in thought.

If the Emperor so much as glanced at the memorial, he wouldn’t need to say another word!

Unless the Emperor was so foolish he didn’t understand: “Imperial edicts require Inner Cabinet approval before leaving the Forbidden City.”

Feng Bao respectfully presented Gao Yi’s memorial to the Emperor: “Your Majesty, this is the Grand Secretary’s memorial.”

The Emperor reached out and took it.

The court ministers exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable.

Each, for whatever reason, remained silent, watching the scene unfold.

Time passed slowly, broken only by the rustling of paper as the Emperor turned the pages.

Long moments passed.

The screen before the imperial dais slowly drew aside.

This was the second time—officers had grown somewhat accustomed.

Besides, Gao Yi was absent, and no one dared intervene to stop the Emperor.

Feng Bao watched silently. To bury Gao Yi, only the Emperor could act now.

Zhu Yijun’s vision widened.

He closed the memorial, expressionless, and asked Ge Shouli: “Director Ge, have you read this memorial?”

His expressionless face meant he no longer cared to mask his emotions.

Ge Shouli paused, then bowed: “Your Majesty, I merely submitted it. I dare not overstep.”

Zhu Yijun nodded.

He spoke gently: “Big Companion, show it to Director Ge.”

Feng Bao bowed his head obediently, took the memorial, and descended the dais.

He handed it to Ge Shouli.

Even the slowest now sensed the gravity.

Some began glancing around, wondering whether to feign sudden illness.

Ge Shouli hesitated, then took the memorial from Feng Bao’s hands.

He read it quietly, without a word.

Finally: “Your Majesty, I have finished reading.”

Zhu Yijun nodded: “Big Companion, show it to all ministers.”

…

The memorial passed from minister to minister.

Director of Censorate, Six Ministries’ Ministers, Minister of Justice, Tongzheng Office, Vice Ministers, Assistant Director of Censorate, President of the National Academy, Censorial Attendants…

One by one, they read it—and the Wenhua Hall grew quieter.

Occasional gasps broke the silence.

Sweat soaked through inner robes.

An elderly President of the National Academy trembled uncontrollably.

Finally, someone cracked.

Censor Tang Lian suddenly collapsed to his knees, wailing: “Your Majesty, Gao Yi has lost his mind! This has nothing to do with us!”