Chapter 6: Churning Currents

“Your Highness, is something amiss?” Feng Bao asked, stepping forward.

Zhu Yijun’s mind raced, but he said nothing for a moment.

The screen before him was like a chasm—not merely physical, but also a barrier of ritual, severing him from the court deliberation.

He knew that if he spoke to influence state affairs, he would immediately be shut down by ancestral precedents and past precedents.

He might even receive a memorial from the Censorate tomorrow, urging him to cultivate virtue diligently.

Feng Bao, that old fox, didn’t even regard him as worth noticing; otherwise, he could have used the old man as a mere mouthpiece to relay his words discreetly.

If so, he could only fully deploy his most potent weapon: "This Crown Prince is morally deficient and still young." He could not freely interject in court deliberations—so he must force Yang Bo to offer him a face-saving exit himself!

I do not go to the mountain; let the mountain come to me.

He immediately looked up at Feng Bao, his voice rising in apparent surprise: “Grand Eunuch, that doesn’t make sense—Xuan and Da are not our dynasty’s frontier garrisons? How can news travel back and forth so swiftly?”

That voice carried into the hall, and silence fell instantly.

The Censor-in-Chief Ge Shouli’s puzzled expression suddenly cleared—he realized belatedly.

Minister of War Yang Bo’s face turned pale at once!

Any minister who could sense the implications of this matter would never so bluntly pierce this veil of face-saving pretense.

Why? Because once pierced, must Xuan and Da be held accountable? Must Wang Chonggu be arrested?

For self-preservation, who dares risk tearing open a rift with the central court?

Yet here, in this hall, was an unexpected variable: a ten-year-old heir could not possibly see through this layer of pretense.

Yang Bo could only curse that the man on the dragon throne wasn’t a complete fool.

He dared not let Feng Bao speak a word.

Who knew if Feng Bao’s next sentence might doom the Jin Faction to eternal ruin?

He immediately knelt, gritting his teeth and shouting loudly: “Your Highness, Xuan Prefecture is only four hundred li from the capital; with swift horses and urgent dispatches, such speed is ordinary.”

Zhu Yijun sneered inwardly—five days for a round trip, two days for the message, three days for repeated raids along the border? Did they think this was a real-time strategy game?

Never mind whether the Tartars had swift horses—this mobilization speed alone could rival the armies of his past life.

But he could not press further.

Forcing Yang Bo to respond was already the limit; going beyond would be counterproductive.

A few apologetic words, carried through the screen into the hall: “This Crown Prince is virtuously deficient and still young; my sudden words were unwise and have disturbed the court deliberation—truly inappropriate.”

“I do not fully understand what Minister Yang said; I shall merely record it for now and ponder it carefully later.”

“Your Excellencies, please continue your deliberations. Do not concern yourselves with me.”

His words were earnest and humble, yet sent a chill down Yang Bo’s spine.

Record it? Ponder it later?

If they didn’t sweep this under the rug today, and the new emperor truly remembered it, a massive scandal would erupt later—and Yang Bo would be the first to fall.

But the words were spoken; he could no longer interrupt. He could only plead with his eyes toward Gao Gong.

Gao Gong paid no mind to Zhu Yijun’s words; he merely watched Yang Bo coldly.

His expression grew darker.

Yang Bo’s current behavior proved only one thing: he was truly unaware of the matter; otherwise, he would not be so passive.

Yet this meant the situation was even worse than he had imagined!

In the past, he had relied on his prestige to suppress Yang Bo, and through him, the Jin Faction. But today, he saw clearly: Yang Bo, the faction leader, could no longer control Wang Chonggu!

If this were merely Yang Bo’s personal greed—bribing for promotion—it would be trivial; after all, Yang Bo remained in the capital, and no matter how he schemed, it was harmless.

But if Wang Chonggu, a frontier commander, had ambitions, then matters were truly dire.

His thoughts were entirely on the matter, not the Crown Prince; he absently nodded his chin slightly toward Gao Yi.

The Grand Secretariat had already discussed this internally; Gao Yi, having received the signal, sighed inwardly, searching for words to salvage Yang Bo’s position.

Suddenly, in his astonished gaze,

Zhang Juzheng stepped forward first, bowing deeply.

“Your Highness! The Book of Documents says: ‘Men seek broad knowledge; only then can they establish affairs.’ Today, Your Highness humbly asks questions, and we are overjoyed—how could we hoard our knowledge like a worn broom and leave Your Highness to ‘ponder it yourself’?”

“Alas, the inner court does not involve itself in frontier affairs, and we are burdened by court deliberations, leaving us no time to clarify matters for Your Highness.”

“Therefore, I boldly petition: after each morning court session, Your Highness should summon the Grand Secretaries for private audiences, to ask questions and gain understanding of state affairs.”

His voice rang like a bell, his gaze burning.

After Zhang Juzheng finished his petition, silence fell behind the screen.

Aside from Yang Bo, several members of the Jin Faction cast grateful glances his way; the rest watched coldly.

Even Gao Gong did not so much as glance his way.

He knew his lifelong friend had always been deeply invested in guiding the new emperor.

This was surely just another attempt to seize the responsibility of explaining state affairs to the new ruler—he didn’t care.

For reform and change, he had his own path to follow.

After a long while, a voice came from behind the screen.

“Grand Secretary Zhang’s words suit me perfectly. After morning court, could the three Grand Secretaries remain a moment?”

Gao Gong lifted his eyelids slightly and replied: “As Chief Grand Secretary, I am burdened with urgent affairs and have no spare time.”

Zhang Juzheng took up the thread: “Your Highness, the Chief Grand Secretary speaks truly. The state has just lost its emperor; all matters rest on the Grand Secretariat—it cannot be overburdened.”

Another voice came from behind the screen.

“Then let Grand Secretary Zhang remain after court today to answer my questions.”

Zhang Juzheng bowed again: “Your Highness, today after court, we must proceed to Sishan Gate to pay respects to the late emperor.”

“Could Your Highness summon me tomorrow, after court deliberations and after your daily lecture?”

Zhu Yijun nodded: “Agreed!”

Gao Yi exhaled quietly beside him—thankfully, he had not been pushed forward to handle this.

This was no easy task.

The Crown Prince’s conduct today was truly not that of an easily deceived boy.

Whether it was his handling of the eunuchs, his control over Feng Bao, or his sharp eye spotting the flaw in Wang Chonggu’s memorial—

It proved this Crown Prince was sharp in state affairs.

This alone could outweigh his lack of talent in the Four Books and Five Classics; after all, a ruler need not be a scholar of classics.

Merely from today’s court performance, he already showed the bearing of a sovereign!

But explaining state affairs to a clever man—while slipping in one’s own agenda—was exceedingly difficult, and the risks immense.

Remember: clever men have excellent memories, and the heir will grow up.

One misstep could bring lasting poison—for himself, and for the Great Ming.

Zhang Juzheng’s willingness to take this on was truly admirable.

…

Behind the screen, Zhu Yijun unconsciously tapped his knee with his knuckles, his thoughts racing.

His retreat was an advance—he had pressured Yang Bo to win himself the right to speak in court.

Whether Yang Bo, the Jin Faction leader, or Gao Gong, who had recommended him, gave any answer at all—it would crack open a breach.

The more questions he asked, the more the ministers would grow accustomed to it.

But Zhang Juzheng had intervened, blocking him—and almost volunteered to be summoned, completely upending his plan.

Had he seen through my intentions?

Or was he merely trying to keep me out of court deliberations?

Tomorrow’s audience… it seems I cannot avoid this duel with the Great Ming’s foremost minister.

—

Yesterday someone commented—I’ll try splitting this chapter into two. Also, today’s work is heavy; the next chapter will come later. Lastly, I beg for tomorrow’s follow-reads—this novel’s survival depends on it.

(End of Chapter)