Chapter 1563: Madness Beneath Innocence

"What?" Both Ichijō Kaneyoshi and Takatsukasa Norihira cried out at the same time — one in shock, the other in delighted surprise.

Yes... why didn't I think of that? Ichijō Kaneyoshi silently asked himself.

Though he held no real power, he was after all the chief minister of the Imperial Court, and hardly cut off from news — he had long since heard of Great Han's illustrious and awe-inspiring reputation. He had also seen Great Han's way of doing things firsthand; a few years ago, when he was serving as Minister of the Right, Great Han's special envoy to Nagasaki, Liu Jing, had visited Kyoto for an audience with the Emperor, and he had been among those who received the envoy.

At the time, he had assumed that a special envoy from the old lands of Great Tang would surely be a refined gentleman of surpassing character and bearing, and had looked forward to the meeting for quite some time. To his surprise, the envoy turned out to be a crude, uncultured merchant who spoke only of trade and fiscal matters, utterly ignorant of poetry and verse. His proficiency in classical Han writing was even inferior to Ichijō's own, despite Ichijō only having a passing knowledge of Han poetry. Ichijō had composed a social poem to exchange with the envoy, yet the man had stood there blankly, completely unable to respond.

While secretly amused that the new Great Han dynasty would use such a vulgar merchant as a national ambassador, Ichijō Kaneyoshi could not help but sigh with a touch of melancholy, feeling that the refined spirit of the glorious Tang could no longer be found even in its homeland — a truly sorrowful thought.

But now, when Nijō Yasumichi proposed borrowing troops from Great Han, he suddenly felt that Great Han's single-minded pursuit of profit might not be such a bad thing after all.

"If... if we offer gold and silver in exchange for Great Han sending troops, they... they might not necessarily refuse..." he murmured to himself, then unconsciously sat up straight. "If they truly could send troops to support the Court, it's not impossible for the Court to rise again..."

He finally understood Nijō Yasumichi's idea.

"They want gold and silver — we'll give them a mountain of gold. That should satisfy them, shouldn't it?" Nijō Yasumichi asked with conviction. "In any case, we can't touch those gold mountains right now; having them is as good as not having them. Japan is the Court's Japan — even if we give it away, so what?"

"But... but this is inviting a wolf into the house! Since Great Han invades everywhere, it is a vicious wolf — how can we go begging a vicious wolf to help us?" Takatsukasa Norihira was still deeply hesitant. "Under the Shogunate we can at least eke out a miserable existence. If Great Han's people really come and overthrow the Shogunate, won't we just end up as Great Han's slaves afterward... How can this be acceptable?"

"It won't be like that. Since Great Han pursues profit, their coming to Japan is naturally also for profit. We'll just give them the profit — we can offer them a large portion of Japan's gold, silver, and wealth. After all, it's not in our hands to begin with." Before Nijō Yasumichi could answer, Ichijō Kaneyoshi spoke up. "Japan has millions of people. If Great Han had to conquer and govern it themselves, how much money and effort would that cost? Far easier to just take the gold and silver and leave... As long as Great Han helps us drive out the Shogunate, we will be obedient to Great Han and present them with wealth and treasure. Why would they bother spending the effort to rule Japan themselves?"

Ichijō Kaneyoshi spoke with great certainty, but it was driven more by wishful thinking than by rigorous reasoning. He knew this was selling out the country, but if selling out the country could restore the Court and the kuge to their former authority and let them rule Japan once more, he did not care.

Clearly, Nijō Yasumichi thought the same. He nodded repeatedly, showing his agreement. "The Left Chancellor speaks truly. As long as Great Han sends troops to help the Court suppress the rebels, what harm is there in becoming a docile tributary vassal of Great Han afterward? Could our days possibly be worse than they are now? Japan's wealth and land originally belong to the Court — what does it matter if the Court gives some to Great Han?"

After this exchange, Ichijō Kaneyoshi was thoroughly roused. The more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed, until he could no longer sit still. "What if Great Han refuses?"

"If we don't try, how can we possibly know whether they'll agree?" Nijō Yasumichi retorted with some exasperation. "If we dare to try, at least there's hope. If we're timid and afraid to act from the very start, then there's nothing more to say — we can just keep kneeling at the Tokugawa family's feet."

Ichijō Kaneyoshi also felt he was right. If Great Han was willing to send troops while the Shogunate was in internal turmoil, that would be ideal. If not, they would simply continue with the status quo. Either way, it was worth the gamble.

"How do we try? Send someone to Nagasaki to find Great Han's ambassador?" Ichijō Kaneyoshi asked at once, signaling his stance through the question.

He had suffered under the Shogunate's oppression for so long that now, seeing a glimmer of hope, he was naturally as unwilling as Nijō Yasumichi to let it slip away.

"The Left Chancellor truly understands the greater good!" Nijō Yasumichi laughed again. "Yes, we can secretly dispatch someone trustworthy to Nagasaki and find a way to speak with Great Han's envoy there, to have him relay our proposal to the Great Han Emperor. As long as... as long as the Great Han Emperor agrees, we will be the heroes who restored the Court, and we can face our ancestors without shame!"

"Wait, wait! Don't be rash!" In his anxiety, Takatsukasa Norihira forgot the proper deference owed to his two superiors and shouted outright. "How can a matter of such magnitude be decided over a single drink? We must carefully consider and deliberate further. Besides... without His Cloistered Majesty's nod, doing these things is an overstepping of authority, tantamount to rebellion."

"I will speak with His Cloistered Majesty about that..." Ichijō Kaneyoshi answered at once.

"Do you think His Cloistered Majesty is unaware? Without His Cloistered Majesty's consent, how could I possibly have proposed such terms?" At that moment, Nijō Yasumichi spoke again, his voice grim.

Silence fell once more. The two were stunned speechless again.

After a moment of shock, Ichijō Kaneyoshi felt a deeper sense of loss and resentment. "Why did His Cloistered Majesty not tell me beforehand?"

"You are the Left Chancellor, the Regent. Who knows how many people surround you, and who knows how many the Shogunate has set to watch you? How could we have told you from the very start? Now I've finally found an opportunity to seek your opinion." Nijō Yasumichi explained in a low voice. "His Cloistered Majesty relies heavily on you. You are both an imperial kinsman and the chief minister — it is your duty to assist His Cloistered Majesty. Left Chancellor, what... what do you think of our plan?"

"So that's how it is..." Ichijō Kaneyoshi nodded, finally setting his mind at ease.

Then, he raised his head and looked at Nijō Yasumichi. Gone was the dejection and discouragement of moments before; he was now brimming with spirited resolve. "As a member of the imperial family and the head of the kuge, for His Cloistered Majesty and for the Court, I should not begrudge ten thousand deaths. I agree with His Cloistered Majesty's view on this matter, and I am willing to serve as His Cloistered Majesty's vanguard!"

"There is no need for you to be the vanguard, Left Chancellor." To his surprise, Nijō Yasumichi refused this impassioned declaration. "This matter carries too much risk. The Left Chancellor is a descendant of the imperial house and the head of the Fujiwara clan — you absolutely must not be directly involved. I merely took this opportunity today to inform you, Left Chancellor. From here on, I will take charge of this matter."

"..." Ichijō Kaneyoshi was stunned. "This matter... this matter is of grave importance. As Left Chancellor, how can I not participate?"

"Precisely because you are the Left Chancellor, you cannot participate. If I am involved and it fails and is discovered by the Shogunate, it will only be my own private folly and misdeed — I alone will bear responsibility. If the Left Chancellor is involved and it fails, it will be a colossal storm the Court absolutely cannot withstand. Moreover, the Left Chancellor's status is different; your every move affects the whole situation. It is better for you to remain hidden behind the scenes for now... So, Left Chancellor, now that you know of this matter, leave it be."

"But... but..." Ichijō Kaneyoshi still found it hard to accept.

"Do not hesitate, Left Chancellor. This is also His Cloistered Majesty's wish." Nijō Yasumichi cut him off, brooking no argument. "I ask the Left Chancellor to continue handling affairs as usual from now on, and not let the Shogunate's people detect anything amiss."

Ichijō Kaneyoshi hesitated for a long while, but finally nodded. "Very well. Let the Right Chancellor take the lead on this for now. But if the Great Han Emperor truly agrees to send troops to aid the Court... then please, you must let me participate as well!"

"This matter is far too risky — it requires careful consideration, careful consideration!" Seeing that the two had already reached this point, Takatsukasa Norihira still wanted to make one last effort to remonstrate with Nijō Yasumichi, who was walking down an extremely dangerous path. "Right Chancellor, think again. Things may not go as smoothly as we imagine here. If it truly comes to light, this is no small matter — the Shogunate will absolutely not let it rest. I fear your very life may be at stake!"

"If it truly fails... what of it? The Court's situation is already dire beyond measure; we don't fear it getting a little worse. At worst, I will simply take my own life to atone. This floating world of dust is nothing — to leave it early is to attain bliss sooner. Why not be glad?" Nijō Yasumichi laughed again. "As a direct-line descendant of the Fujiwara Northern House, seeing the Court fallen to such a state has long filled me with grief and indignation. If I see an opportunity and do not try, what face do I have left to shamelessly occupy this position of Right Chancellor?"

Then, he stared wide-eyed at Takatsukasa Norihira. "You are now the Inner Minister, just one step away from my position as Right Chancellor, and a key minister of the Court. What's more, you too are a direct-line descendant of the Fujiwara Northern House. Can you truly endure this?"

"I..." Takatsukasa Norihira's face twisted slightly. He lowered his head, at a loss for words.

"I am truly ashamed of you!" Seeing that the other man still refused to voice his support even now, Nijō Yasumichi flew into a sudden rage.

He had finally found an opportunity for a private gathering with the Left Chancellor and the Inner Minister without arousing suspicion. He had assumed that, as fellow heads of the kuge, they would both support him, and that together, with one heart, they would strive to restore the Court's former authority. He had not expected that while the Left Chancellor, an imperial kinsman, had agreed, Takatsukasa Norihira — a fellow direct-line descendant of the Fujiwara Northern House — would shrink back at the critical moment.

He could not help but feel furious at the man, thinking him utterly unworthy of his lineage.

"Enough, Right Chancellor. Each man has his own aspirations; there is no need to force him." Ichijō Kaneyoshi raised a hand to stop Nijō Yasumichi. "The Right Chancellor should simply focus on his own task. In truth, it's best not to stir things up too much right now — just carry on quietly."

Then, he walked over to Takatsukasa Norihira and looked at him earnestly. "Inner Minister, as you can see, the two of us are now deeply entangled in a matter of great importance — a tremendous affair. If things go awry, our very lives may be at risk. I will not force you to join us if you are unwilling, but I must ask you to keep our secret. We are striving to restore the Court's order and discipline. You too are a direct-line descendant of the Fujiwara Northern House. If we truly succeed, you will also reap great benefits. So you should be able to discern what is more important and what is less..."

Though his words were somewhat veiled, he made it clear to the Inner Minister: he could choose not to participate, but for the sake of Fujiwara blood and the Court, he must keep the secret and not speak of these matters to anyone else.

Takatsukasa Norihira hesitated again for a long while, as if still wanting to dissuade the two of them. But in the end, he sighed dejectedly. "Very well. I will not try to dissuade you any further, and I will absolutely never mention tonight's events to anyone. You may rest assured. I... though I lack the courage of the Left Chancellor and Right Chancellor, I... I would never stoop to such a thing..."

"That's good." Ichijō Kaneyoshi let out a long breath.

Then, he raised his head once more to look at the sky.

The sky was now completely dark. The cherry trees in the distance were nothing but vague silhouettes, their earlier splendor gone. The moon had risen to mid-sky; its cold, clear light brought little brightness to the earth, instead making everything seem even more eerie and sinister.

"Enough, enough. Today's blossom viewing has been thoroughly enjoyed. Let us all return. Right Chancellor, we must find another chance to gather again. I have been brimming with literary inspiration lately and wish to study more with you."

"Nothing would please me more." Nijō Yasumichi nodded.

Then both of them turned, preparing to descend from this section of the wall.

"Wait, both of you." At that moment, Inner Minister Takatsukasa Norihira suddenly called out, stopping them.

Both turned back, looking at Takatsukasa Norihira with puzzlement.

"If... if this great undertaking truly succeeds, His Majesty the Emperor and the Empress Dowager... how... how should they be dealt with?" Takatsukasa Norihira's voice trembled slightly; he had clearly thought of something.

Ichijō Kaneyoshi did not answer, only smiled faintly.

But Nijō Yasumichi's eyes widened once more. "Could it be that the Inner Minister still wishes to speak for those who brought chaos upon the imperial nation, creating such an eternal laughingstock?"

It was no wonder Nijō Yasumichi was so angry.

The "Empress Dowager" Takatsukasa Norihira referred to was the consort of His Cloistered Majesty before he took the tonsure — Kazuko, the daughter of Tokugawa Hidetada. At the age of thirteen, she had been sent into the palace by her father Tokugawa Hidetada to become the then-Emperor's lady-in-waiting, making her the first woman of the Tokugawa family to be sent into the palace. Several years later, at sixteen, Kazuko gave birth to a daughter. The following year, under pressure from the Tokugawa Shogunate, she was named Empress Consort by the Emperor, becoming the first Empress since Taira no Tokuko, daughter of Taira no Kiyomori five hundred years earlier, who was neither of the imperial clan itself nor of Fujiwara descent.

At the time, this event caused tremendous shock. People denounced the Tokugawa family's arrogance and overbearance as equal to that of the Taira clan of old, and among the kuge families, it sparked even greater fury and dread. The kuge's resentment carried an extra layer of meaning compared to others, because for centuries, one of the key means by which the Fujiwara clan had dominated power and controlled the Court was by sending their daughters into the palace, generation after generation, to serve as Empress Consort, ensuring that the Emperor who inherited the throne would continue to carry Fujiwara blood. Through countless generations, the Fujiwara had thus become inseparable from the imperial family, sharing in its fortunes. But with Tokugawa Kazuko becoming Empress, if she were to bear a prince who then inherited the throne, the imperial family would slowly see its bloodline severed from the Fujiwara.

Under the encroachment of successive shogunates, the Fujiwara had already lost so much — glory, power, and wealth had all turned to mist. All that remained now was the empty vanity and titles of the kuge. If they were to lose their blood connection to the imperial house, then truly nothing would be left. It was precisely for this reason that their resentment and fear were several times greater than anyone else's.

And everything that happened next only deepened their indignation.

After entering the central palace, Tokugawa Kazuko bore several children — her eldest daughter was the Second Imperial Princess Okiko, along with three other daughters, Sumiko, Akiko, and Yoshiko; she also bore two sons, but both died in infancy. Now, she was pregnant once more, though no one knew whether the child would be male or female.

By the time the Cloistered Emperor, out of fury at the shogunate's arrogance, resolved to abdicate, both of his and Tokugawa Kazuko's legitimate sons had already died. By normal practice, the throne should have passed to a son by a consort, or, failing a son, to a brother — yet under the shogunate's interference, he could not have his way, and in the end could only pass the throne to the Second Imperial Princess, who was also his eldest legitimate daughter, Okiko.

That is correct — after the Cloistered Emperor took the tonsure, the current reigning Emperor is a woman, and a girl not yet ten years old at that, a descendant of the Emperor and the Minamoto house. Since the forty-eighth sovereign, Empress Shōtoku, nearly a thousand years had passed in Japan without a woman succeeding to the imperial throne. This could be said to be the very pinnacle of the shogunate's rule by force.

In the eyes of these court nobles discontented with the Tokugawa house, this situation — a hen crowing at dawn — brought about single-handedly by the Tokugawa, was itself a manifestation of how the Tokugawa's arrogance and tyranny had reached such an extreme that monsters and aberrations multiplied under their rule. Everyone grew even more resentful of the shogunate.

His Majesty Okiko was not yet ten, and moreover a woman, and of Tokugawa blood — so these several court nobles did not take her seriously at all, but instead directly honored the Cloistered Emperor as sovereign.

The shogunate's intent was all too plain: to keep stalling for time, to see whether the Empress Dowager Kazuko in the central palace could bear another legitimate son to inherit the throne, allowing the Tokugawa house to become a clan on par with the Fujiwara and further tighten its grip on court affairs. After taking the tonsure, the Cloistered Emperor, by tradition, continued to reside within the imperial palace, merely occupying a separate hall, and was not required to abstain from women. By now, during his time in orders, he had already added three more children, among them a son by a consort, the Fourth Imperial Prince, Prince Tsuguhito.

To prevent any confusion of the bloodline, the court had made it clear to the Tokugawa house the moment the current Emperor ascended the throne: according to the most ancient traditions, a female emperor may not marry and may only pass the throne to a younger brother. Now that the Empress Dowager Kazuko was pregnant again, the matter would likely be settled in a few months. It was precisely because of this that Nijō Yasumichi, the direct-line heir of the Fujiwara Northern House, was so desperate to destroy the Tokugawa house's schemes — and perhaps the Tokugawa house itself.