The ministers who had always supported her fell utterly silent after hearing this speech, each lowering their heads, no one voicing agreement.
She wasn’t surprised by this. Among these senior officials, who could claim to be entirely clean? An idea like hers touched other people’s cake, so of course no one would support it. Even the Emperor seated above—if he truly wanted to make things difficult for her, this was the perfect opportunity to leave her in an impossible position from every side.
But still, having said all this, Hua Chun felt remarkably light. Back when she’d stayed up countless nights writing proposals, even though now she could only speak of the surface of it, being able to voice her ideas publicly still felt deeply satisfying to her. Prime Minister Hua was an unconventional person anyway—borrowing her body, she might as well let loose a bit too.
Yuwen Jie stared at her for a long while.
He’d earlier felt that Prime Minister Hua had changed somewhat, as if she’d become a different person, and he’d even specially gone to check the mole on the back of her neck. He hadn’t expected that once she got serious, Hua Jinghua was still Hua Jinghua—only she had the nerve to say what others would never dare speak.
Though he disliked her, as a sovereign, having someone like this to assist him was his good fortune.
“Not a bad idea.” Yuwen Jie nodded at Hua Chun.
Those four words landed in Xuanzheng Hall like a deep-sea torpedo, catching everyone off guard. General Meng, standing at the back, immediately panicked. “Your Majesty, if we do as the Prime Minister suggests, it truly would move the whole fabric with one pull—I’m afraid it would cause no small amount of chaos.”
“General Meng speaks wisely,” Grand Tutor Tang said, glancing at Hua Chun and unable to help himself from speaking up as well. “Doing this would delay the disaster relief.”
Hua Chun felt no small number of strange looks aimed at her back, but her spine only straightened further.
She hadn’t said a single word wrong. There was no need to feel guilty or worried.
“There’s no need for you all to worry so much,” the Emperor above said calmly. “I think the Prime Minister can stay behind to discuss the details with me carefully, and by tomorrow all arrangements can be given. It won’t delay anything.”
Every year the situation was more or less the same anyway—by the time relief supplies arrived, the common people had already died off in droves. He might as well try a different approach. Besides, he had nothing else to do, and there was no war at present.
“This…” The crowd exchanged glances with one another, and Grand Tutor Tang even gently tugged at Hua Chun’s sleeve.
Hua Chun ignored them. Her heart was already crashing like waves against the shore with delight!
If the plan she hadn’t been able to use in the modern world could actually be put to use here, that would be wonderful! This emperor didn’t seem as unreasonable as she’d imagined—at least he was willing to listen, which made all her racking her brain over classical Chinese worthwhile.
Seeing that Prime Minister Hua showed no sign of changing her mind, the assembled elder ministers said nothing more.
Yuwen Jie said, “Nothing else. All of you may withdraw. Prime Minister Hua, remain.”
“…Your subjects take our leave.”
The voices were small and out of sync, clearly showing their displeasure. Hua Chun understood their feelings well enough, but this time she had no intention of playing savior. She quietly watched them leave.
“Let’s move to Zichen Hall,” Yuwen Jie said, rising and looking at her. “I hope what the Prime Minister said just now wasn’t spoken on a whim, but that you already have a workable plan.”
Wow, that was the longest sentence she’d ever heard him say!
…But that wasn’t the point. The point was that the proposal she’d prepared could actually be put to use! Hua Chun unconsciously pressed her palms together, eyes shining, gazing at the sovereign with gratitude.
Just as a “thank you, Your Majesty” was about to leave her lips, she saw the person before her pause, his expression revealing unmistakable disdain in his eyes. Without another word, he rose and walked right past her toward the door.
“…”
What was going on here? Hadn’t he just agreed with what she said? Hua Chun’s head filled with question marks as she covered her backside and followed him out.
Far too effeminate! Yuwen Jie frowned.
If it weren’t for the fact that what she’d said was useful, just for that look on Hua Jinghua’s face earlier, he’d have wanted to pick him straight up and throw him out the window!
How could a man live like this?
Having grown up on horseback, Yuwen Jie greatly admired men of iron and blood, and naturally, he thoroughly despised those all show and no substance. And Hua Jinghua, whether in appearance or martial skill, was the very embodiment of exactly that.
If she couldn’t come up with anything useful in a moment, he wouldn’t mind pushing her out to face that group of cunning old ministers directly over the disaster relief matter. Then she’d understand—being a nice guy in court all the time, shouldering everything alone, was completely useless. When it came to real interests, no one would help him at all.
He gave a cold snort and walked briskly away, both fast and impatient.
Hua Chun still bore injuries on her body, and gritting her teeth, she hopped and limped along behind him, breaking into a full sweat.
Why did this Prime Minister Hua have to insist on being a man, anyway? Sure, men didn’t get menstrual cramps, but in every other way, being a man was truly miserable!
She understood now—one really couldn’t just envy others by looking at a single aspect. Taking everything into account, women’s treatment was still better than men’s. She wanted to go back and keep enjoying life as a woman. Was the old man upstairs still awake?
“BOOM—”
A crack of thunder startled Hua Chun so badly she cried out and jumped to the side.
Walking ahead, Yuwen Jie paused and turned back to frown at her.
Eunuch Qin chuckled softly. “Looks like it’s about to rain—don’t be afraid, Prime Minister, it’s only thunder.”
“…Mm.” Hua Chun laughed awkwardly, embarrassed.
That thunderclap had struck at just the right moment—was the old man upstairs mocking her? Basically saying: “I’m awake, but I’m just not going to grant your wish”—something like that?
She pouted and continued following the Emperor all the way to Zichen Hall.
The front hall of Zichen Hall had a very large table, one that could be used for meetings as well as for hosting banquets, but clearly the Emperor had no intention of feeding her right now—he simply sat down at the head seat on his own and gestured for her to sit as well.
Organizing her thoughts, Hua Chun quickly settled into the task, took up paper and brush, and as best she could, phrased everything in classical Chinese, analyzing bit by bit how the disaster relief should be arranged for the sovereign.
This went on for a full two hours. Everything she’d held back before and never dared say, she now reported to Yuwen Jie in full—things like having the common people supervise the officials, or assigning officials who didn’t get along to supervise each other. Most important of all, this method couldn’t be the same every year; it had to change and vary so no one could find a way to exploit loopholes ahead of time.
Two hours later, the sun set.
Taking a sip of tea, Hua Chun looked at Yuwen Jie, waiting for his response.
The whole time it had been just her talking, like some kind of stand-up comedy routine. He could at least give some kind of reaction!
Looking at the paper on the table, scrawled all over with messy notes and ambiguous symbols, Yuwen Jie fell silent, thought for a moment, and said, “Do as you have said.”
The idea was decent, fairly thorough even—but once actually put into practice, there would likely be considerable resistance.
He thought a moment, then leaned in closer toward her, and just as he was about to say something, a rich, spicy, tempting smell drifted into his nose.