“A mistake?” Zhù Ying voiced the question.

If Zheng Xi were still alive, there would still have been more room for the two of them to maneuver. But now that Zheng Xi was dead, the two of them had to speak plainly. What, precisely, was meant by “a mistake”?

Yao Chenying said: “Ah—I expressed myself poorly. May I ask what arrangements you intend to make for the Imperial Guard going forward? Among the men I brought back, some can be returned to their original postings, and some originally came from the Imperial Guard. After narrowly escaping death, after watching their fellow soldiers fall—they come back to find their rewards still owed and their original posts gone. That does not sit right, does it?

When I was in the north, I received the official dispatches and documents but kept them from the men. If they had learned in the middle of the campaign that their positions back home were gone, we could not have fought the battle through to the end.”

Only then did Zhù Ying speak a few candid words to him: “Among the men you took north, were there not some who did not come back?”

“There were.” Yao Chenying’s voice dropped lower. War was cruel, and death was a constant.

“Well, then. That settles it. Split the difference—half for half.” Zhù Ying finally showed her characteristic directness.

Yao Chenying could only nod. To invite Zhù Ying back and ask her to clean up the mess, one had to give her something in return. Wang and Shi had both paid a certain price; it would be inappropriate for Yao Chenying to be an exception. Originally the Imperial Guard had been within their grasp, with Wang, Shi, Xian, and the others unable to get a foothold in it. Now there was no choice but to let Zhù Ying have a share.

When Zhù Ying had reshuffled the Imperial Guard, she had already prepared herself for this kind of situation. The Imperial Guard’s positions had always been under-staffed, and she had managed to slot in a portion of the men, while another portion had been promoted and sent elsewhere.

This portion of the content needed only a brief notification of the outcome—neither Wang, Shi, nor even the Emperor were familiar with the details.

Zhù Ying said: “Now that you are back—what are your thoughts on the Ministry of Finance?”

Yao Chenying instinctively deflected: “You are far more capable than I in that regard. Let those with ability shoulder more of the burden.”

Having settled the matter of the Imperial Guard, Yao Chenying relaxed. The Ministry of Finance was a plum position, but for anyone who truly wished to accomplish something beneficial for the state and the people, the Ministry of Finance at this juncture was like a quagmire—most people who entered it could not find their way back out. It was not as though he did not wish to address the problem of land annexation. Had he not been forced to abandon it precisely because it had become untenable to continue?

Zhù Ying said: “Then what will you take responsibility for?”

Chancellors each had their areas of oversight. Originally Yao Chenying had focused primarily on the Ministry of Finance; now that arrangement could not simply stand idle either. Yao Chenying said: “The Ministry of War.”

“And the Imperial Stud? Will you still want oversight of that?”

“I cannot take on so many things at once.”

“Then recommend someone.”

“My thanks for your consideration.”

In the exchanges that followed, the two of them reached a consensus in a matter of a few words. Zhù Ying also informed him of recent developments at court. Yao Chenying had many family members and associates in the capital, and his information was reasonably current, but compared to Zhù Ying, who was stationed in the Council of State itself, the quality of intelligence he could provide was simply incomparable.

Zhù Ying mentioned that Jiang Zheng had taken a fall from his horse and been injured, rendering him unable to attend court, and his daily duties had been disrupted as a result. She would recommend a deputy prefect to step in. This deputy prefect’s background was not insignificant—he was the grandson of Prefect Lu, who had once been Zhù Ying’s superior.

Yao Chenying expressed his understanding.

Both found that talking with each other was more relaxed than deliberating with Wang and Shi. Those two—Wang Shuliang especially—always maintained a certain stiffness and reserve, clinging to their ideals of gentlemanly conduct, and were in some respects less flexible and perceptive than his own father Wang Yunhe had been. Yao Chenying said not a single word about the matter of selecting female officials through examination at the Chancellor’s residence. Whether Zhù Ying succeeded or failed in that, it had nothing to do with him. As long as the two of them had reached an understanding with each other, he was not inclined to meddle in others’ affairs.

Beyond that, both of them were also considerably focused on the Eastern Palace.

Yao Chenying said: “For the tutors of the Eastern Palace—even if all four of us take on the role, there would still be gaps. And with state affairs so pressing, we may not always be able to get away. The Crown Prince should have attending lecturers as regular tutors for daily instruction.”

Zhù Ying said: “Of course the Chancellors should serve as the leading figures in name, and for the daily coursework—Chancellor Wang is also preparing for the examinations; when the time comes, learned scholars of deep knowledge can be selected to teach the regular lessons. For the present, I have already asked Lady Yue to begin the Crown Prince’s foundational education—the Yue family’s scholarship is reliable.”

Yao Chenying realized that “Lady Yue” referred to Yue Miaojun, and had no grounds for objection. He also felt that Zhù Ying still held old bonds of sentiment toward the Zheng family. His wariness toward her diminished by two degrees.

His next concern was the fact that an Empress had not yet been established; he inquired why no one had submitted a request to establish one. The Crown Prince had been established in some haste, which was understandable. But now that the Crown Prince had been determined, the matter of the central palace position had already been slow to develop, and by now it should at least show some prospect. “If the Crown Prince’s birth mother does not have the title of Empress, there is a risk of upheaval in the future.” The logic was simple: if the Emperor later had a favored consort, or formally wed a woman of distinguished family and established a new Empress, the Crown Prince’s position would easily become precarious.

Zhù Ying said: “You need not worry too much about that. The Emperor has deliberately chosen not to establish an Empress. He fears his son would be controlled by a Dowager Empress.”

Yao Chenying frowned: “During the palace coup…”

Zhù Ying waved her hand: “That is all in the past. Don’t speculate—and even if you speculated correctly, what good would it do?”

Yao Chenying nodded as well, indicating his understanding. The two completed yet another round of negotiation.

The following day, after morning court, Yao Chenying quietly returned to the Council of State to sign in, and no longer argued with Zhù Ying. Zhù Ying, however, immediately dragged him back to work—the governors from various regions would be arriving in the capital very soon, and they had to hurry up and finalize next year’s budget!

The two worked through the entire day. That evening it was Shi Jixing’s turn to stay overnight, and Zhù Ying returned home, where Zhù Qingxue was waiting at the gate to meet her: “My lord, the Lady has come.”

In the Zhù household, “Lady” referred to Yue Miaojun.

——

Zhù Ying strode into the residence. Wang Yunzhi and the others had all gone home for dinner. Yue Miaojun was reading beneath the lamplight. As Zhù Ying entered the room, Yue Miaojun closed the book face-down on the table and rose: “You are finally back.”

Zhù Ying took off her official hat, handed it to Zhù Qingxue, walked over, and asked: “What is it? The palace?”

Yue Miaojun said: “Whatever it is in the palace, I can manage it. I came for another matter—have you already publicly announced the examination for recruiting female officials throughout the realm?”

“I have.”

Yue Miaojun sighed: “This morning, they came to ask me…”

Yue Miaojun was born into the Yue family and, though she was the Grand Lady of the Zheng household, maintained fairly close ties with the scholarly community. Yue Huan had passed away a couple of years ago, and her nephews came to visit her somewhat less often than before, but contact had not been severed entirely. That morning, a nephew had come to call at the Zheng residence and had asked about precisely this matter. There were objections circulating within the scholarly community.

Yue Miaojun herself was very much in support of Zhù Ying. At the time she had said: “She is a woman herself, so for her household it is natural and convenient to do things this way. And we have never seen her people cause any mishaps—right now it is a time when capable hands are desperately needed, and using whoever is available is nothing to object to. Is it not far preferable to letting the situation go to ruin, as it did in the past when the court above was in utter disorder? Is that somehow better?

You are now a high official yourself—you ought to be thinking about the state. Without the skin, what becomes of the fur? Let the court first settle into stability before getting so fussy about these things!”

She had managed to talk him around at the time. Though inwardly her nephew had thought that his aunt, having married into the Zheng family, had taken on a bit of the aristocratic households’ careless disregard for propriety. What Yue Miaojun said was nonetheless genuinely reasonable, and he had gone home half-persuaded.

Yue Miaojun had then come to give Zhù Ying a heads-up.

Yue Miaojun said: “This matter, in their eyes, is even more alarming than when you became Chancellor yourself. When you are needed, never mind whether you are a woman—even if you were something entirely ambiguous, they would still make use of you. Opening examinations to recruit female officials is different. A single woman occupying however high a position is one thing. What they fear is the institution. Once it becomes an established system, carried forward generation after generation—when they contemplate what that could look like several generations hence, some of them are frightened enough to want to take desperate measures. It is not inconceivable that they might attack or harm you in some reckless act.”

“I know,” Zhù Ying said. “Liu Kun has said something to that effect as well. But it is precisely for this reason that I must act now. An institution is only meaningful once it has been practiced over a sufficiently long span of time.

A child—when you bring him into the world, he must grow to at least seven years of age before he can survive on his own. If he is too small, he cannot even speak the words to beg for food and can only starve. If someone means to strike him, he cannot even run.

My time is not abundant. The earlier I can act, the better.

There must be at least two or three examination cycles, enough to make the people of the capital familiar with this practice. Even if it is abolished after my death, people in the future who find themselves in similar straits will at least be able to remember that this path existed. As for extending it throughout the realm—if it can be done, it will be done; if not, it will be left for those who come after.”

“Do not speak in such a disheartening way.”

Zhù Ying said: “This is not pessimism. You know how I operate—I have always planned carefully and thoroughly. Without doing so, there would be no way to accomplish anything. So in the matter of the Noble Consort, I ask that you devote extra care and attention. In choosing her son, we are in fact choosing her. The Emperor’s health goes well one day and poorly the next…”

Yue Miaojun said: “I understand. The Noble Consort’s formal title is also a complication. The Empress Dowager has the name and legitimacy in full—and she does nothing but stir up trouble every day.”

Zhù Ying said: “Your family’s princess…”

Yue Miaojun said: “I have never exerted control over the Empress Dowager—she simply feels sympathy for her own sister-in-law. The account does not fall at the mother-in-law’s door. Now that the Prince of Qi has returned, she and her daughter must have guilty consciences.”

“You understand the situation clearly in your heart, so I will not ask further. If there is anything you need me to do, simply say so.”

“That is precisely what I was going to say to you—whatever you are doing right now, if there is anything you need from me, just say it.”

“Good.” Zhù Ying agreed at once. “As it happens, the Twenty-Third Lady is also preparing examination papers. Please cast an eye over them. As for Wang Shuliang—I can see he is not very willing. In case he is unwilling to help me draft the papers, it would be better if I prepare a set of my own as well.”

Yue Miaojun smiled.

——

The matter of selecting female officials through examination was not entirely without precedent in the capital—from time to time, the Court of Judicial Review, the Prefect of the Capital’s office, and the districts of Chang’an and Wannian had filled certain positions in the women’s prison quarters. It was rare, but it had occurred.

However, those had all been “special cases,” justified on the grounds of the separation of men and women. Formally appointed officials in the manner Zhù Ying now proposed—that had never happened before.

Within a few days, Zhù Ying received an impeachment, declaring that her conduct contravened the laws and rites. Even framed as appointments to the Chancellor’s own household staff, the argument ran, this was impermissible—for neither the rites nor the laws contained any provision affirming such an arrangement was acceptable.

Beyond that, the御史 had also included Wang Shuliang and Shi Jixing in the same censure. Because Yao Chenying had returned late—he had not yet arrived in the capital when the memorial was being composed—he narrowly escaped being implicated.

With all three censured, Yao Chenying was still in a position to put in a word on their behalf. He reprimanded the御史 with a disdainful dismissal: “Making a fuss over nothing—there is ample precedent for this matter.” He then cast a look at Zhù Ying, prompting her to say something.

Zhù Ying said: “This matter—I believe it was, what would it be now, about fifty-some years ago—the court deliberated on it.”

The Emperor stirred with interest and asked: “Is that truly so?”

“It is,” Zhù Ying said. “All those who were party to it are no longer here, but the old archives remain. At the time, I was serving in the Court of Judicial Review, deliberating on the establishment of female detention officers. Wang Yunhe and Liu Songnian both helped with the effort; Zheng Xi was in full support of it. Wang Yunhe was serving as Prefect of the Capital, and within a few days, the Prefect’s office had also appointed a female deputy official. Zheng Xi was the Chief Justice of the Court of Judicial Review at the time; Chen Luan and Shi Kun were serving as Chancellors in the Council of State—and the old archives bear the signatures of all of them.”

With their own fathers implicated in the matter, both Wang and Shi found their hands effectively tied. The Emperor ordered the archives to be searched. Household registry and land records were renewed every decade, but official documents and correspondence were preserved for far longer—they could still be found. The paper had gone yellowed and brittle, but the characters remained clear.

At the time there had been debate over the matter; Zhù Ying had no patience now to re-argue the entire thing from the beginning. There was, however, a useful advantage in the present moment: “old precedent” was something that could legitimately be cited as authority.

Yet the御史 insisted further, arguing that this had been an “expedient measure” taken as a “special case,” entirely unrelated to the Chancellor’s residence. If Zhù Ying wished to appoint people to get things done, she could recommend individuals herself—but conducting an open public selection of this nature was simply not appropriate.

The御史 expressed himself with considerable care, deliberately avoiding any statement such as “women cannot stand in court ranks”—after all, Zhù Ying was still standing right there.

Zhù Ying accepted the argument with gracious flexibility: “Very well then—I will select people myself. Since we are insisting on the separation of men and women, let us go ahead and expand the positions of female judicial officials and their deputies across all regions. Your Majesty, when I was serving in the south, I encountered a case…” She then recounted the incident of male judicial deputies in local offices abusing their authority over female detention officers and inmates, committing unlawful acts.

From this she raised the proposal: “If we allow men to oversee women, that too is conducive to corrupting public morals. Let female officials be in charge of managing them.”

The御史 was so taken aback—and so furious—that his entire face turned red. He moved to argue back again: “This is outrageous! A Chancellor should plan for the welfare of the state—why must everything first be made into a matter of men versus women?”

Zhù Ying said with an air of innocence: “Then shall we simply hold a joint examination for all, making no distinction whatsoever? Having to draw lines between men and women at every turn really is tiresome—why not simply abandon all such distinctions?”

Wang Shuliang coughed: “That is not what anyone means.”

Zhù Ying spread both hands wide: “Then what does it mean? When have I ever made an issue of this? Is it not these gentlemen who on every occasion insist that I first be sorted into the male-or-female category, rather than simply looking at whether the work was done well—always sizing a person up from head to toe before anything else? To stare so relentlessly at women—could it be some sort of peculiar fixation?”

Watching the debate grow as heated and theatrical as the old factional quarrels of the past, Shi Jixing’s head was ringing. He stepped forward immediately, silenced the御史 with a sharp rebuke: “Stirring up trouble over nothing—you know only how to cause confusion!”

Yao Chenying raised no objection; Shi Jixing, for the sake of the situation, had no choice but to step in. Three Chancellors in agreement, Wang Shuliang could hardly argue against them. More critically, the Emperor was already exhausted—the御史’s effort to turn the tide failed completely.

Zhù Ying then produced another memorial, drafted in Liu Kun’s hand, petitioning for the establishment across all regions of female judicial officials, deputy judicial officials, and legal officers of that kind—and furthermore, that the official medical schools should formally enroll a proportion of female students: the separation of men and women. If we insist on maintaining it, then a male physician and a patient are already in a rather intimate situation, are they not?

Wang Shuliang stared, wide-eyed. If the establishment of female magistrates could be called specious reasoning, the provision on medical students was genuinely sound.

Shi Jixing glared at Zhù Ying: How have you come up with yet another thing?

Yao Chenying said: “Your Majesty?”

Different emperors would handle such a thing differently. Past emperors would have delegated the deliberation to the relevant high officials; but this particular young Emperor said: “Court is dismissed. Chancellors remain.”

He had another matter to deal with: how to handle the Prince of Qi?

The Emperor’s personal wish was to have him executed—eliminate the root of the problem entirely. But he could not say this himself; doing so would damage his “reputation for sagely virtue.” The Emperor preferred the simpler course, with room to reconsider—which was to use this comparatively manageable matter of “female officials” as a trade, in exchange for the Chancellors’ advice on what to do with the Prince of Qi.

The four Chancellors assembled before the Emperor.

The Emperor spoke first: “The court was full of people quarreling incessantly just now—too many mouths, too much noise. Nothing useful can come of it, and it only causes delays. The matter of the Prince of Qi did not even get raised. Chancellor Shi—what is your view on how to proceed?”

Shi Jixing was still the Chancellor overseeing the Court of Judicial Review; the Prince of Qi’s case fell under his purview—he had come up through the Court of Judicial Review and had been in court continuously ever since, so he was far quicker to get a handle on things. And because Zhù Ying had been long stationed in the southern territories and was currently managing the western frontier and the Ministry of Finance, this case had not fallen to her.

Shi Jixing’s efficiency was considerable. Since the Prince of Qi’s flight, he had quietly been making preparations, and in recent months had been steadily processing the Prince of Qi’s faction of associates. Now he gave the Emperor a conclusion: “Stripped of rank and reduced to commoner status; banished into exile.”

Wang Shuliang also seconded this.

Yao Chenying, however, knew the Emperor’s true inclinations—he had received the Emperor’s personal letter at the front lines asking him to dispose of the Prince of Qi. He was not stupid: had he killed the Prince of Qi, he too would have feared the public outcry, so he had wracked his brains to bring back a living person instead. Now, standing before the Emperor, he played dead.

The Emperor said: “I fear his treacherous heart will not die—what is to be done?”

Zhù Ying had remained silent throughout; only when the Emperor addressed her directly did she speak: “The law of the land is as it is.”

The Emperor said: “Is this the view of all of you? Alas.”

The Chancellors could more or less discern something of the Emperor’s true desires, and were all the more unwilling to take upon themselves the reputation of driving a wedge between flesh and blood. Shi Jixing raised several other matters of governance; among them was Zhù Ying’s opening of examinations for official selection. The Emperor glanced at Zhù Ying and said: “On this point—regardless of whether the御史 was right or wrong, there are those who think this way and oppose it. Allow me to consider it further.”

After all the other matters had been addressed, the Emperor kept Zhù Ying behind and asked: “Chancellor—are female officials truly necessary?”

Zhù Ying said: “They have already cursed me to my face. The separation of men and women—very well, I will enforce that separation and let them see! Without girls around me, I feel uneasy.”

The Emperor smiled bitterly: “If I put your mind at ease, can you put mine at ease?”

“What is there to trouble Your Majesty’s mind? The Prince of Qi has been brought in and the case has been opened—Your Majesty’s crisis is resolved.”

“If the root of the trouble is not removed…”

Zhù Ying waved a dismissive hand: “The law of the land—the law of the land. Why would Your Majesty want the Chancellors to act outside the law? The Chancellors and the three judicial offices judge according to the law—that is the law of the land. As for within your own household—does Your Majesty not have the house rules? The Empress Dowager resides in the palace, enjoying her old age in comfort. With nothing to occupy her, surely she will grow bored and restless, won’t she?”

The Emperor had a flash of sudden insight: “Excellent!”

Zhù Ying said: “Then today’s memorial—?”

“Approved.” The Emperor said with a smile.

“The Prince of Qi’s case—still according to the law of the land?”

“According to it!”

“The Prince of Qi’s case falls to Shi Jixing—may I then go manage the examinations with Wang Shuliang?”

“You may.”