Fan Sheng’s heart was hammering, but he did not dare hurry Zhù Ying when she said nothing. The room was utterly silent — he could hear his own pulse pounding.

Zhù Ying felt a brief pang of melancholy, and then a flicker of unease. After a moment of stillness she said: “Understood. And the Court of State Ceremonial — how does it stand? Did Secretary Shi send you here?”

Fan Sheng quickly said: “No — no. I felt this was something Your Excellency ought to know about at once.”

Zhù Ying looked at him. Fan Sheng grew all the more flustered. He had once made an error in judgment, had misread a situation, and for years afterward had not been promoted further. Watching his fellow townspeople and classmates make progress here and there while he himself remained at a standstill, he had been deeply remorseful. After long reflection, he had finally grasped this opportunity.

But he was also uneasy, afraid that Zhù Ying would find him presumptuous. Having given his answer, he found he had nothing left to say. Every word he might speak seemed as though it would lead him into error.

Zhù Ying gave a slight nod and said: “I am already apprised of the matter. Return to the Court of State Ceremonial at once. Secretary Shi has a family affair — the moment he departs, a hundred threads at the Court of State Ceremonial will all fall to Vice Director Wu. Things will get busy; do not let him find you absent. Whatever Vice Director Wu instructs, carry it out.”

“Yes. Then… shall I go back now? Is there nothing else to be done?”

Zhù Ying looked at him. Fan Sheng lowered his head further, not daring to meet her eyes.

Zhù Ying said: “Go. If anything arises, I will let you know.”

A great stone lifted from Fan Sheng’s heart. He said loudly: “Yes!” and retreated three steps, turned, and ran off.

Zhù Ying rose and paced to the doorway. The main hall of the Ministry of Revenue stood atop a raised platform; gazing into the distance, the view appeared no different from before — yet Zhù Ying knew that everything was different.

From this point forward, the face of the court is utterly unlike what it was ten years ago!

Where would the realm now tend?

From this point on, whether the Emperor or the court ministers, all had lost an elder of great experience whose wisdom could be called upon. Everything now had to be managed on their own.

Zhù Ying felt a measure of unease. Experience was something built from time and cost; and the price a kingdom and a court paid — what did that consist of?

She gathered the hem of her robe, stepped across the threshold, and walked directly toward the Council of State — as though that place might offer her some measure of calm.

Along the way she encountered a few people, who appeared not yet to have heard the news of Shi Kun’s death and seemed quite untroubled.

Zhù Ying was still an arrow’s distance from the Council of State when she became aware of some commotion there.

Drawing closer, she heard a minor official speak in a low voice: “How is it that the old Chancellor Shi has also passed away?”

“The old Chancellor was of advanced age — this was a full life.”

“That is not what I mean. Think about it — how long ago was it that the Marquis of Leng died? Is there something inauspicious of late? Why do all the senior figures keep departing?”

“Shh… shh… Don’t talk nonsense! How old were each of them? Can they live forever?”

“Even so…”

They saw Zhù Ying and immediately fell silent, stepping forward to pay their respects. Zhù Ying nodded to them and asked: “What is the matter?”

One of the officials, looking somewhat flustered, said: “The old Chancellor Shi… has passed away.”

Zhù Ying said: “Is that so…”

Before she could finish the words, Shi Ji Xing came out from within. Zhù Ying came face to face with him, and saw that Shi Ji Xing’s face was streaked with tears — an entirely different manner of weeping from Leng Yun’s.

Zhù Ying said: “You…”

Shi Ji Xing spoke, and tears rolled down again. He choked out the words: “Zi Zhang, my father… is gone.”

Zhù Ying stepped back half a step and looked him over again. Shi Ji Xing said: “It is true — I have already had an audience with His Majesty, and just now explained some matters to the Chancellors… I… my mind is somewhat disordered, so I am returning home now. My apologies.”

Zhù Ying made a gesture bidding him go, and her steps grew heavier too. She suddenly had no desire to visit the Council of State, and instead turned back to the Ministry of Revenue, where she sat in the hall lost in a daze.

Shi Kun had never had a particularly commanding presence. From the time he took up the role of Chancellor he had not wished to involve himself in excess matters. Whether it was Chen Luan or Wang Yunhe, both had shone more brilliantly than he; not to speak of the man of extraordinary character who had been called the greatest literary figure of the age. Shi Kun seemed like nothing more than a pillar in the Council of State, standing silently and always in his place — and then one day the pillar was gone…

Whether a person is important is not only a matter of what difference his presence makes; it is also a matter of what trouble his absence creates and how great that trouble is.

Shi Kun was precisely such a person — someone without whom things would not work.

Zhù Ying was still turning this thought over in her mind when the Council of State sent someone to summon her.

Zhù Ying went again to the Council of State. At this moment, Dou Peng, Zheng Xi, Chen Meng, and Xian Jing were all present, and from the moment she entered, four pairs of eyes turned to watch her.

Zhù Ying halted five paces away from them: “You several Chancellors — what is this?”

Dou Peng seemed to wake from a reverie and said: “Sit.”

Before Zhù Ying had arrived they had already had one round of dispute — over the arrangements for Shi Kun’s posthumous affairs. The posthumous honors would certainly be forthcoming; from the Emperor to the Council of State, everyone had a favorable impression of him, and the proceedings would be modeled more or less on those accorded the late Wang Yunhe. The difficulty lay in what to do about the vacancies after Shi Kun’s sons and grandsons entered mourning.

At this moment one could see very plainly the extent of Shi Kun’s influence. The Director of the Court of State Ceremonial had a vacancy, as did the Prefect of the Capital — and beyond these, the Shi family had two regional inspectors, one Vice Minister, seven officials of the fifth rank and above, and more than ten in the blue and green grades, all entering mourning at once.

Those below the fifth rank were easier to manage. But the Court of State Ceremonial and the Capital Prefecture should not remain vacant for long. The Court of State Ceremonial presently had only one Vice Director left, and he was still new to the post — at the very least, another Vice Director was needed. The Capital Prefecture was even more crucial.

The four Chancellors inwardly understood: if this had been earlier — if Chen Luan or Wang Yunhe were still living, or if Shi Kun were still presiding — when the court was more stable, having the Capital Prefect vacant for a few years and managed in the interim by the Vice Prefect would not have been unusual. But now they knew in their own hearts that the court was in contention, and the Capital Prefecture needed a capable person to anchor it.

The previous holder of the post had the advantage of family background and with Shi Kun still living, had been able to keep things in check. Whoever came next either needed comparable family background, or had to have outstanding ability.

The four Chancellors ran through possible candidates in their minds. Chen Meng spoke first: “In my view, Zhù Zi Zhang would do!”

Xian Jing said: “But then what of the Ministry of Revenue? The Ministry of Revenue also cannot do without a capable man. Times are not what they were…”

Dou Peng nodded: “The Ministry of Revenue also needs a capable person.”

Chen Meng, feeling he ought to give Zhù Ying a push forward, said: “Can it be that the court has no one else? I do not believe that without him, the Ministry of Revenue would fall apart.”

Zheng Xi said: “It would manage — only not as well as it does now.”

Zhù Ying was excellent; it would have been even more excellent if she were not quite so excellent, so that one did not feel that transferring her away would leave the place worse than before in the hands of whoever came next. She herself would be fine wherever she went.

Chen Meng said: “Can he really be kept in the Ministry of Revenue for his entire life? What sort of reasoning is that?”

Dou Peng made the decision: “Invite him here — let us have a talk.”

And so Zhù Ying sat now before the four Chancellors, one against four, her inner mind remarkably calm. Chen Meng directed covert glances at her, his eyes full of encouragement and reassurance. Xian Jing’s expression was rather complex. Dou Peng was assessing. Zheng Xi spoke: “The old Chancellor Shi has passed away.”

Zhù Ying said: “I just heard. This… hardly concerns the Ministry of Revenue, does it?”

Zheng Xi said: “It has little to do with the Ministry of Revenue, but it has some bearing on you.”

“On me?”

Zheng Xi said: “If we were to have you take charge of the Capital Prefecture, what would you say?”

Zhù Ying was mildly startled: “Me?”

Zheng Xi gave a nod.

Zhù Ying furrowed her brow slightly, as though thinking it over.

The four did not press her; each had his own thoughts.

In Chen Meng’s view, the Capital Prefecture was advantageous for Zhù Ying personally. One could not keep someone in the Ministry of Revenue simply because they managed it well. Zhù Ying had done a great deal to help him enter the Council of State; Chen Meng also wanted to bring Zhù Ying into the Council of State. With the age difference between Zhù Ying and Chen Meng, if Zhù Ying served a few more years as Capital Prefect, she would be within reach of the Council of State. By then Chen Meng could offer a recommendation, and the two of them working in tandem in the Council of State — by the time Chen Meng himself retired, Zhù Ying would still be in her prime, and he could retire peacefully, entrusting both the court’s affairs and his own descendants to her care.

Mutual benefit and a friendship between their households spanning generations.

Chen Meng glanced at Zheng Xi, thinking: Zi Lang bowed to your constraints only because of his background — you cannot constrain him forever! You are not being decent!

He considered himself a decent man, and so was determined to push Zhù Ying forward. Besides, once she entered the Council of State, a Chancellor could also take a hand in overseeing the Ministry of Revenue — what was a few years’ wait?

Zheng Xi was somewhat hesitant. The Capital Prefecture — Zhù Ying could certainly manage it well. But the Ministry of Revenue… he had no one of his own who could contend for this position. Once she moved away, many things would become less convenient to handle. Among the Six Ministries, Personnel was first and rested in Chen Meng’s hands; Revenue was second and with Zhù Ying managing it was virtually tantamount to being in his own hands. Now with Revenue slipping away, Zheng Xi was in two minds.

Dou Peng felt that the Capital Prefecture was indeed important, and that the work of the Ministry of Revenue, which both he and Xian Jing knew something of, would not fall into chaos without Zhù Ying. But the Capital Prefecture — that was truly difficult to manage.

Xian Jing’s feelings were the most complicated of all. The Capital Prefecture! Whenever this office was mentioned, he involuntarily compared it with his late revered teacher’s tenure there, and whatever comparison he made, he found fault — from the previous Prefect Wu right through to Zheng Xi, Chen Meng, and the Shi family’s appointee, they all fell short in his judgment.

But the moment Zhù Ying’s name came up, his first instinct was: Zhù Ying could do this Capital Prefectship well.

Which only made him feel more aggrieved.

All four waited for Zhù Ying’s reply.

Zhù Ying had already thought it through. Taking the Capital Prefecture was, from a purely personal standpoint, an exceedingly favorable move! The Capital Prefect’s role was easier than the Ministry of Revenue; the authority was greater, the rank was higher, and the entire imperial family and court would be within her jurisdiction.

Whether the Capital Prefect’s role was easy or difficult depended entirely on who held it.

She looked at each of the four in turn, then drew her gaze back and said: “Taking over the Ministry of Revenue is extremely difficult. Simply pushing the localities to remit taxes and levies is easy enough; doing it well is not easy at all. These past few years there have been flooding and drought in places, and some areas have had three consecutive years of drought. Replace me with someone insufficiently meticulous, and a single lapse will mean wives separated from husbands and families torn apart.”

Twenty years ago when she arrived at Fuluo County there had already been tax arrears — and conditions then had been even better than now.

Chen Meng said with a measure of urgency: “Are you saying… you are reluctant to leave the Ministry of Revenue?”

Zhù Ying said: “None of the several Chancellors has any wish for the court or the realm to come to ill. But after long peace, accumulated ills are many. For an ailing patient, different physicians prescribe different remedies — and this is the source of many disputes at court. I do not think in those terms; I have always looked only at the matter itself.

In the matter of the Ministry of Revenue, the foundation for all things is grain, land, and population. This is also the reason why Xiao He was so invaluable. Yet there is always some barrier between the central court and the localities — you cannot do without the localities, and yet to release them entirely leaves you vulnerable to being deceived.

Since taking charge of the Ministry of Revenue, I have been quietly sending people to various localities to investigate conditions firsthand. This task is presently two-thirds complete. The intention was to complete it and then report to the Council of State, to discuss with the several Chancellors how best to prescribe the remedy going forward.

If I am to leave, I fear this matter will be left half-done.

I am not particular about what work I am given. But I ask only for a little more time — at least let me finish this one matter. Once I have clarified the land and population throughout the localities and submitted my report, however you wish to assign me afterward, I will comply without objection.”

Once the national data was in hand, the matter would be half accomplished. Mastery of information was “control” itself. The reason Xiao He had been praised through a thousand years and held up as an example was precisely for this. With a reliable basis, one had the means of control; when Liu Bang was contending for the realm, he had the foundation to act from.

The matter of suppressing the concentration of land was the same — once the data was in hand, whether it was Zheng Xi or Xian Jing, their work would proceed more smoothly. And some perspectives would shift somewhat as a result. In short, things would be more grounded in reality.

The four Chancellors had different abilities, but all understood this reasoning. Four sharp intakes of breath sounded together.

Chen Meng could not contain himself — he leapt to his feet and stamped his foot: “You! What a worry!”

Zheng Xi lowered his head and thought for a moment, then said: “Very well — finish this matter first.”

Xian Jing said nothing throughout.

Dou Peng nodded with evident admiration and said: “Very good! How much longer do you need?”

“Earliest is year’s end.”

Dou Peng was somewhat troubled. Leaving the Capital Prefecture vacant for a year? That same refrain again — for the court as it stood now, it was somewhat inconvenient.

Zheng Xi said: “The Capital Prefecture is not so urgent that it cannot wait a day or two. You attend to the Ministry of Revenue.”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying smiled, rose, made a bow to all four, and withdrew with unhurried composure.

Dou Peng said reflectively: “He is ever the same, consistent throughout.”

Chen Meng said without warmth: “Then what is to be done about the Capital Prefecture?”

Zheng Xi smiled and said: “Is there not a ready candidate right here? Yao Zhen.”

“Him?!” said Xian Jing.

Zheng Xi said: “He is loyal to His Majesty. His Majesty at the very least will not find the candidate absurd.”

Dou Peng said: “Then let it be so.”

The hour was growing late; they concluded their deliberations without going immediately to inform the Emperor — the Shi residence still needed visiting for condolences. If they could also learn whether Shi Kun had left a written testament, and what it said, so much the better.

The Emperor would suspend court for Shi Kun’s passing. If they were in a hurry, they could propose their suggestions to the Emperor during this period; if there was no particular urgency, they could wait until after Shi Kun’s burial.

Coming out of the Council of State, Zhù Ying’s steps were light.

By now many people had heard the news of Shi Kun’s death, and officials great and small were preoccupied. Zhù Ying returned to the Ministry of Revenue, saw the state of things, and simply gave them a half-day’s leave: “Zhao Su, you remain on duty.”

Zhao Su had no particular connection to Shi Kun — so long as his adoptive father was well, he was entirely at ease. He gave a word of assent and sat quietly to attend to his work.

The others immediately scattered like birds and beasts. Zhù Ying herself also left the palace and returned home to change clothes, then went to the Shi residence to pay her condolences.

The Emperor did not go that day; he was due to go the following day. Zhù Ying received this news and, knowing she would need to accompany the Emperor to the Shi residence again on the morrow, left early.

She had barely returned home when she saw Zhuo Que pacing back and forth in the gatehouse, looking like an ant on a hot pan.

Seeing Zhù Ying return, Zhuo Que hurried to meet her: “Your Excellency!”

Zhù Ying walked inside as she asked: “What has happened?”

Zhuo Que said: “Something has gone wrong… they — they want to put all the blame on Cai Yizhen.”

“Cai Yizhen?”

“Yes — he came to pay his respects to you the year before last, and was afterward appointed as a district administrator of Jiang’an. He had a falling-out with a colleague, was harmed by that colleague, and all the illegal and corrupt affairs of Jiang’an were pinned on him. His wife had no choice but to send someone to the capital to seek help…”

Cai Yizhen was also a man of southern origin.

Zhù Ying frowned: “And the person — where are they?”

“I have settled her at the association hall.”