No one was absent today.

Lan Rong, who had unexpectedly fallen ill and disappeared for several days before year’s end, had arrived.

Another important court official who had taken extended leave last year and barely shown his face a few times had also come. This person was Minister of War Gao He.

Last year, except for presiding over the ceremonial spring military competitions of the six armies, this minister had spent most of his time at his ancestral home in Jingzhao Commandery, caring for his aged and ailing mother.

Gao He’s father had followed the founding emperor for many years and was one of the few military generals to receive the honor of an iron tablet for his achievements. He was also skilled in warfare, having served under Emperor Shengwu’s command with great merit, and was renowned for his filial piety, receiving repeated commendations from Emperor Ming, who greatly valued filial conduct. Last year, Gao He had no choice but to take leave to care for his mother, and the daily affairs of the Ministry of War were handled by a vice minister acting in his capacity. He exchanged bows and New Year’s greetings with nearby court officials he hadn’t seen in a while, when suddenly came the announcement: “The Regent Prince arrives.”

The square filled with people outside the hall parted to make way as the Regent Prince walked through. Everyone surged forward, competing to bow to him and offer New Year’s congratulations.

Shu Shenhui wore a smile, walking toward the main hall while returning bows to the court ministers on his left and right. Lan Rong and Gao He stood near the hall entrance. When he approached, they slowly stepped forward and bowed to him.

Shu Shenhui’s gaze lingered on both men briefly. He first inquired about Lan Rong’s health, then asked about Gao He’s mother. Both replied that all was well. Shu Shenhui nodded slightly, then continued walking and entered the great hall.

Today, on both the east and west sides of the great hall, Zhonghe Shao music was arranged facing north. On the vermilion steps and courtyard, ceremonial guards and banners were displayed magnificently. Inside the hall and on the vermilion steps stood guard officials, with thousands of handsome armored soldiers arranged in formation extending to the palace gates. There, five-colored banners were displayed, with horses, rhinoceros, elephants, and other auspicious beasts used for ceremony and subsequent performances, both showing New Year’s joy and demonstrating the supreme majesty of the imperial family.

The first drumbeat sounded in the palace. Shu Shenhui led the officials and envoys behind him to their designated positions. No one spoke further, and the atmosphere became solemn. At the second drumbeat, he led everyone into the hall, arranged on the east and west sides of the vermilion courtyard, facing north and standing solemnly toward the throne ahead. At the third drumbeat, ceremonial officials bowed and requested the emperor’s ascension to the hall.

Harmonious and solemn Zhonghe Shao music resonated through the hall as the officials saw the young emperor arrive with his escort officials. Palace attendants opened fans and rolled up curtains as the young emperor ascended to his seat.

Though dawn had not yet broken, torchlight illuminated the hall, casting the young emperor’s silhouette. He wore the imperial crown and robes, with pearl strings hanging from his forehead, cloud-patterned shoes on his feet, and a treasured sword at his waist. When he appeared, his tall stature already showed some resemblance to an adult.

Recently, officials had increasingly sensed that since the young emperor had “recovered from illness” and resumed court assemblies, he carried himself with growing authority. On such an occasion as today, the imperial presence was even more overwhelming.

However, sharp-eyed officials like Fang Qing, standing near the front, soon noticed through the pearl strings that the young emperor’s complexion was poor. His face showed a pale azure tinge, his eyes bore signs of puffiness, as if he hadn’t slept well the previous night.

This New Year’s Day was different from previous years, carrying extraordinary significance. Many speculated that the young emperor would announce military action at Yanmen today. This was a matter concerning national destiny. Given his limited experience, unlike the Regent Prince, who was accustomed to seeing storms, he must have been overly excited last night, resulting in insomnia.

After the time-announcing whip sounds outside the hall concluded, Fang Qing and others followed the Regent Prince at the front in performing four bows amid the grand music from the vermilion steps. Next came the joyous but extremely tedious grand court worship. Qualified officials began presenting congratulatory memorials according to rank, with Chamberlain for Dependencies He Cong reading them aloud, the emperor expressing approval, and the announcements carried outside where everyone knelt, prostrated, and rose in continuous succession.

This routine was tolerable at first, but after multiple rounds became quite exhausting. However, such was the protocol—who dared show impatience? Finally, when everything ended, dawn had broken, and among the officials, those elderly and frail already showed signs of fatigue.

Ministry of Rites officials announced the ceremony’s completion and declared the ritual concluded. Amid renewed music, the emperor was about to withdraw from court when everyone saw the Regent Prince slowly step forward.

“Today is New Year’s Day, when all things are renewed. Your Majesty, may you receive Heaven’s mandate and prosper eternally. I have a matter I wish to present on this auspicious occasion, requesting Your Majesty’s gracious permission.”

After speaking, he raised a memorial with both hands.

Fang Qing and others understood, knowing the Regent Prince was presenting a military deployment memorial, so they all watched quietly.

An attendant quickly descended from the vermilion steps, received it, and presented it before the young emperor. He slowly opened it, his gaze settling on the document for a long time without speaking, just lowering his head as if in meditation, the row of pearl strings hanging from his crown remaining perfectly still.

This was truly abnormal. Previously, the young emperor had always nodded immediately upon receiving the Regent Prince’s memorials—never before had they seen such a reaction from him.

The atmosphere in the hall gradually changed as officials raised their heads to look at both the young emperor and the Regent Prince.

The memorial Shu Shenhui had first presented was a request to resign from his position as Regent Prince.

This was a major matter. Although they had agreed on it the previous night, without prior rehearsal, when facing the court ministers, the emperor would initially refuse, he would insist on resignation again, the emperor would refuse again, he would resign once more—after three such exchanges, the matter would be settled.

However, Shu Jian’s current reaction was rather strange.

He watched his nephew, waited for a long time, suppressed his doubts, and spoke again: “Your Majesty, bearing the late emperor’s trust, I have served as regent until now. Not a day has passed without walking on thin ice, exerting my utmost efforts, barely managing to cope. Today is New Year’s Day of the third year of Tianhe. Your Majesty has grown and shows heroic bearing. I believe Your Majesty is capable of…”

As he was speaking, officials saw the young emperor suddenly stand up abruptly, interrupting the Regent Prince’s words, saying hoarsely: “There are other matters today that cannot be delayed. The Regent Prince’s affairs will be discussed later.” After speaking, he quickly descended the steps.

No one had anticipated this turn of events. Ministers looked at each other in bewilderment, finally turning to the Regent Prince.

Shu Shenhui watched the young emperor’s figure quickly disappear behind the hall. After a moment of concentration, noticing that Prince Xian Fang Qing and others nearby were all watching him, he turned to face everyone with a slight smile and nod, then stepped forward and left the great hall.

The unexpected incident quickly passed. Over the next three days, the young emperor led officials in banquets, entertainment, watching performances, conducting sacrifices, and holding various New Year celebrations for the people’s enjoyment. He was constantly busy, appearing rushed off his feet. Shu Shenhui didn’t mention the New Year’s court assembly incident again and continued fulfilling his duties as usual. Until the third day, after returning from sacrifices, Shu Shenhui led the officials in escorting the young emperor back to the palace. The officials stopped outside the palace gates while Shu Shenhui continued escorting the young emperor through the gates. With only the two of them remaining, Shu Shenhui stopped and observed Shu Jian, who had remained silent throughout: “Your Majesty has toiled for a year and three consecutive days of New Year celebrations—you must be tired. The court will continue its seven-day recess. Your Majesty should rest well, and when your spirits recover, it won’t be too late to discuss previous matters.”

Shu Jian never raised his eyes, keeping them downcast as he said quietly: “Regarding that matter mentioned before, I’ve thought it over… let’s forget about it… Even the Duke of Zhou only returned power to King Cheng when he reached the age of twenty. I’m still too young. I’m afraid I can’t control court affairs…”

Shu Shenhui looked at him: “Has Your Majesty encountered some difficulty?”

“No… I just don’t want to…” His gaze wandered as he mumbled.

Shu Shenhui remained silent for a moment before speaking again: “We’ll discuss this matter further. Also, regarding—”

“Let’s talk about that matter later, too!” Shu Jian suddenly interrupted him.

“Let me think more… Military deployment is a major matter, and some in court oppose it…” Shu Shenhui saw his nephew finally look at him, but his eyes seemed to carry pleading and supplication.

“Third Imperial Uncle, you’ve also worked hard for so long. Rest well for a few days. We’ll discuss this matter later… I’m leaving…”

After speaking incoherently, he turned and quickly entered the palace gates, his figure disappearing from view.

Shu Shenhui stood in place for another moment, then turned back with a smile and dismissed the officials.

What followed was the year’s only seven-day consecutive rest period. The court would resume on the tenth day of the first month. Everyone was delighted and dispersed after bidding farewell to the Regent Prince.

Shu Shenhui personally escorted Prince Xian back to his residence. Before parting, Prince Xian dismissed his attendants and quietly inquired what had happened, why the young emperor had changed his mind, neither accepting his resignation from regency nor ordering military deployment.

Shu Shenhui had previously discussed both matters with him, so seeing the young emperor’s behavior naturally caused concern. Shu Shenhui reassured him, saying there was no major issue—they had simply discovered last-minute unfinished preparations, hence the delay. Prince Xian asked no further questions. After they parted, Shu Shenhui went directly back to his princely residence. Li Xiangchun was already waiting and followed him into the study, closing the door and speaking quietly: “Before New Year’s Day, Grand Dowager Consort Dunyi secretly visited His Majesty at night. After returning, she stood alone before Emperor Shengwu’s memorial tablet in the rear hall, speaking resentful words that seemed to involve Grand Dowager Consort Zhuang, with disrespectful language.”

“What exactly did she say?” Shu Shenhui asked.

The old eunuch repeated the words.

Shu Shenhui remained silent.

“Your Highness, perhaps His Majesty’s palace quarters could also be investigated. This old servant has served in the palace for many years. If Your Highness permits, this old servant could also…”

“No need!” Shu Shenhui stopped him. “You may go.”

Li Xiangchun looked at him with concern, hesitating to speak, but finally said nothing, bowed in acknowledgment, and withdrew.

Shu Shenhui sat alone in his study until the sun moved westward. He slowly rose, walked outside, stopped on the steps, and gazed northward for a long time, his figure frozen in place.

The New Year’s rest period of the third year of Tianhe hadn’t even passed halfway when, on the sixth day, the holiday atmosphere was shattered by sudden news.

The new Beidi emperor, Chi Shu, had sent word of peace negotiations, claiming that he had learned from his predecessors’ mistakes and, upon ascending the throne, was determined to cease hostilities. He wished to lead the Di nation in forming a friendship treaty with Wei, promising never to invade the south again. To show sincerity, he declared that with Wei’s permission, he would send envoys to Wei, coming to Chang’an for talks to discuss borders and mutual trade markets.

This was like a boulder from outer space crashing into a calm lake. The news quickly spread, causing an uproar.

On the seventh day, though there was no scheduled court assembly, many ministers hurried to the palace upon hearing the news, seeking audiences with the young emperor and Regent Prince to express their various opinions on the matter. Soon, pro-peace voices grew increasingly loud, arguing that Wei’s desire to reclaim Youyan was also based on northern frontier security considerations. War was ominous, disadvantageous to both state and people in many ways, not to mention the unthinkable consequences of potential defeat. Now that the Beidi were proactively showing goodwill, with the original northern Yanmen fortress being impregnable, they should observe and utilize this opportunity rather than attack rashly.

Ministers holding this view had previously only dared discuss it privately, but now it was different. The returning Minister of War, Gao He, stepped forward to lead them. With such an influential figurehead, public opinion quickly fermented and grew. While Fang Qing and others originally scoffed at this news, considering it a Beidi delaying tactic, after arguing their case, they found the previously firm pro-war young emperor remaining silent. Most strangely, despite such a major development, the Regent Prince hadn’t appeared for two consecutive days.

Moreover, yesterday brought another piece of news: people under Forbidden Army General Liu Xiang had clashed with personnel from the Imperial Security Bureau, allegedly due to old grudges from spring competitions. Liu Xiang’s men, unwilling to accept defeat, had severely injured their opponents. The censorate had already prepared impeachment documents, ready to formally accuse Liu Xiang after the holidays.

Liu Xiang’s longstanding connections with the Jiang family were well known throughout the court. The relationship between the Jiang family and the Regent Prince needed no explanation.

During his years in power, the Regent Prince had formed no factions or cliques. Apart from his childhood-close relative Prince Xian’s lineage, even ministers like Fang Qing who had been favored by him in recent years had no private dealings with him outside court.

Only Liu Xiang was considered his confidant.

Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be a major issue—at most warranting some accountability—but it coincidentally occurred at this crucial moment, with signs of being exploited for political purposes. Recalling the young emperor’s abnormal behavior on New Year’s Day, Fang Qing and others felt chills down their spines upon reflection. Facing the rising pro-peace sentiment, voices urging military deployment inevitably began to quiet down.

Three days later, on the ninth day of the first month, the night before court sessions resumed, Shu Shenhui, who hadn’t appeared for several days, finally showed himself.

He entered the palace and came to the imperial study, requesting an audience with the young emperor. Upon entering, he saw his nephew no longer avoiding him but hurrying toward him, saying: “Third Imperial Uncle! You’ve finally come. If you hadn’t come, I was thinking of seeking you out. You must also know about the news from Daxing, right? Though we’ve been on holiday these past days, court ministers have all been discussing it enthusiastically. Gao He submitted a memorial arguing for ceasing hostilities and pursuing peace. He’s also a general with an established military reputation, and I think his arguments are quite reasonable. Look!” He quickly pulled out a memo from a pile of documents on his desk and handed it over, looking at him expectantly.

Shu Shenhui accepted it but didn’t open it, gently setting it aside. He bowed to Shu Jian, then said: “Recovering the northern frontier has been established as national policy since our founding emperor’s ascension. Why should we deploy troops now? I detailed this in my previous memo, which was circulated among all officials. Heaven’s timing, geographical advantage, and popular support—all three conditions are met. Moreover, Yanmen forces are already deployed and ready, with high morale. If we call a halt now, military morale will collapse. When Chi Shu later consolidates his position and marches south, requiring a passive response, then our Great Wei will likely pay a higher price than now for victory. I cannot understand why we should abandon this advantageous situation for the enemy’s mere lip service.”

Shu Jian forced a continued smile: “Could we perhaps deliberate further… After all, military deployment is a major matter…”

“Time waits for no one; strategic opportunities vanish in an instant.”

“But so many people oppose it… Third Imperial Uncle, didn’t you also teach me before to welcome diverse opinions…” Shu Jian stammered again, his eyes looking left and right.

“Your Majesty.” Shu Shenhui called his name.

“On the night before New Year’s Day, Grand Dowager Consort Dunyi met with Your Majesty. Your Majesty’s complete change in attitude—is it related to this?”

Shu Jian was startled and suddenly looked at him. “You’re monitoring me?”

“Your Majesty has been acting completely out of character since New Year’s Day. There must be a reason. Having grown up in the imperial palace and served as regent until now, if I wished to know such things, why would I need surveillance?”

Shu Jian seemed like a punctured balloon, slowly lowering his eyes and falling silent.

Shu Shenhui gazed at him intently.

“Did Dunyi Palace receive the late emperor’s dying command, ordering Your Majesty to guard against, or even execute me?”

Shu Jian was greatly alarmed, his heart racing wildly, his complexion changing drastically.

He suddenly raised his head and met those two eyes.

Those eyes were calm.

A storm was brewing from gentle beginnings. He spoke of his own life and death as if strolling in a courtyard garden, without waves or ripples.