He was confined in a chamber, dying in despair while clinging to his last thread of hope

Lan Shanjun went to the Eastern Palace once every five days to teach A’Man swordsmanship. Though Yu Qingwu visited frequently, he could not go whenever he wished—he still required a summons from the Eastern Palace.

Unfortunately, the Imperial Grand Heir had never summoned him.

Lan Shanjun had suspected at the time that her questions about the Duke of Zhenguo’s residence had made things difficult for the Imperial Grand Heir.

Yu Qingwu thus first made a trip to the Ministry of Justice to see Ni Tao. But Ni Tao looked at him with a smile. “These past few days, I’ve seen many visitors. You’ve come rather late.”

Yu Qingwu sat cross-legged and spoke carefully: “I originally wanted to save you, my lord, but seeing your appearance, it seems you don’t need my rescue.”

Ni Tao froze upon hearing this, then burst into hearty laughter—quite different from his usual mediocre caution. After finishing his laugh, his face became expressionless as he slowly spoke: “When you first entered Luoyang, I secretly watched you from the street.”

Yu Qingwu: “Is that so?”

Ni Tao: “Naturally. You are Wu Qingchuan’s personal disciple… Of course I had to come see you.”

Yu Qingwu: “Why watch me?”

Ni Tao: “To see whether you, like your predecessor, would come to cut off my head.”

Yu Qingwu’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing these unexpected words. His hands slowly withdrew into his sleeves as he asked calmly: “Why would I cut off your head?”

Ni Tao stared intently at him. “Everyone thought Wu Qingchuan would tell you many things. Everyone thought you were a sharp sword aimed at us.”

He smiled mockingly with derision: “Who knew you would break ties with Wu Qingchuan and become entangled in factional strife—far inferior to your predecessor. This life of mine was thus extended by another five or six years.”

Yu Qingwu ignored his cold mockery and sarcasm, instead murmuring his words once more. When he raised his head again, he had already asked the most crucial question: “You are guilty? Does your son Ni Wanyuan know of your crimes?”

Ni Tao lost his previous wild arrogance, his complexion turning ugly.

Yu Qingwu nodded knowingly. “I see—he does know, and doesn’t approve of your crimes. That’s why he was deceived by Wu Qingchuan into taking this step of mutual destruction—is this a case of bad bamboo producing good shoots?”

Ni Tao’s expression darkened. He didn’t answer, but somehow a dried piece of straw had appeared in his hand. Absent-mindedly, he forcefully broke the straw bit by bit, then suddenly smiled. “Your mouth certainly shows no mercy, but your methods are insufficient, your temperament inadequate—therefore, I won’t trouble you to execute me after all.”

Yu Qingwu knew he could extract nothing more, so he stood up and asked quietly: “My lord seems to wish I would wield the blade?”

He was tall, and upon standing, he blocked the only sunlight before Ni Tao. Ni Tao looked up at him, and only after a long while said: “Yu Qingwu, why do you choose to be a powerful minister rather than an upright one?”

Yu Qingwu did not answer this question.

He only said, “I originally blamed myself for being weak and powerless, with unstable foundations, unable to rescue you, my lord—but now I’m at ease.”

Then he bowed deeply to Ni Tao: “Of course, you may also rest assured, my lord. During the Qingming Festival, there will be a cup of sacrificial wine from me before Young Master Ni’s grave.”

He turned and left the prison, entering the office hall where Zhu Shan was coming out carrying a severed head. Seeing him, Zhu Shan smiled: “Has Imperial Coachman Yu finished seeing Lord Ni?”

Yu Qingwu pretended not to see his blood-stained body and the severed head. “Yes, thank you for letting me see him.”

Zhu Shan waved his hand. “You’re not the first to come. One after another, quite a few people have visited.”

Yu Qingwu smiled. “I’ll head back first. Next time I’ll buy you drinks.”

He paused, then pointed at his hand. “What crime did this one commit?”

Zhu Shan: “Raped a young girl and refused to confess. I executed him directly.”

Yu Qingwu nodded. That evening he told Lan Shanjun: “The methods of the Zhu father and son should win His Majesty’s favor.”

Giving face to no one, directly executing those who deserved death—this was the path of an isolated minister.

Lan Shanjun thought for a moment and said: “Until my death, the Zhu family remained prosperous.”

Yu Qingwu glanced at her. They had been seriously discussing court matters, but at this moment his expression became ambiguous, then he said softly: “Shanjun, I ask one thing of you.”

Lan Shanjun: “Mm?”

Yu Qingwu: “Don’t always speak of death. Nanny Qian told me that words have spiritual power—speaking of death too much is inauspicious.”

Lan Shanjun’s hand, which had been writing, paused. “Do I say it often?”

Yu Qingwu: “Yes!”

Lan Shanjun thought for a moment: “Alright, then I won’t say it anymore.”

Yu Qingwu offered her an alternative: “Why not say—until before I live to a hundred years?”

This way it wouldn’t be a lie either. Twenty-seven or twenty-eight years was also before a hundred years.

Lan Shanjun couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head with amusement, then counted on her fingers: “Before long, the Duke of Qingguo’s residence should go to the Zhu family to propose marriage.”

This matter should remain unchanged. She said: “The Duke of Qingguo’s residence is indeed clever.”

First marrying a young lady from the already declining Marquis of Wenyuan’s residence to avoid factional strife, then marrying a daughter of the Zhu family to win His Majesty’s favor—no wonder they later became more prosperous than the Duke of Songguo’s residence.

Yu Qingwu suddenly laughed. “Shanjun, do you think—now that the Zhu family is rising like this… will the Song family go to the Zhu family to propose marriage for Song Zhiwei?”

That would add another laughingstock to Luoyang city.

…

When the day came for Lan Shanjun to enter the Eastern Palace, Yu Qingwu accompanied her. The Imperial Grand Heir and the Grand Heir Consort were having their morning meal.

The Grand Heir Consort ate only thin congee, taking small bites and chewing slowly—she couldn’t eat quickly or much at all. The Grand Heir ate along with her and invited them: “Would you like a bowl too?”

Lan Shanjun shook her head: “Neither of us likes eating congee.”

The Imperial Grand Heir: “Alright then.”

The Grand Heir Consort laughed. “If you can’t eat anymore, then stop.”

The Imperial Grand Heir continued eating with his head down: “Actually I can still eat—but Yuanniang, next time please don’t eat century egg and lean pork congee, alright?”

The Grand Heir Consort: “It’s so delicious though.”

The Imperial Grand Heir finished eating with a bitter expression, then with a bitter expression had someone clear away the bowls and chopsticks, and continued with a bitter expression: “I know what you’ve come about today.”

But…

He shook his head: “I only know part of it, and I estimate Wu Qingchuan also only knows this part—otherwise, back then it wouldn’t have been exile for him, but death.”

Lan Shanjun exchanged glances with Yu Qingwu and said: “Since Wu Qingchuan made pointed hints, he hopes we’ll investigate. During the investigation, who knows what traps he’s laid—it would be better for Your Highness to speak plainly to us.”

The Grand Heir Consort felt they were right. “The broad road is easy to walk, the single-log bridge difficult to cross. You two, like my younger sister and brother-in-law, are family. At critical moments, you absolutely must not hide things from each other.”

She paused, then added: “If you must hide something, hide it from the Grand Heir, not from me.”

The Imperial Grand Heir smiled wryly, poured himself a cup of tea to hold, and said with lowered eyes: “This matter… if it’s to be told, must be told from the very beginning.”

“In the first year of Yuanshao, His Majesty was sixteen years old. Under the guidance of Grand Tutor Zhe, he ruled diligently and loved the people, employed worthy ministers, began implementing the policy of equalizing public lands, and demanded integrity from all officials.”

Lan Shanjun turned her head in surprise, not expecting him to start from the beginning.

Even less did she expect the Emperor to have been like this initially.

She held her breath. “And then?”

The Imperial Grand Heir: “Then, Grand Tutor Zhe proposed that the imperial examinations shouldn’t merely require memorizing Confucian classics but should interpret their meaning, believing that official advancement shouldn’t only consider years of service but political achievements…”

He wanted to change too much.

He even told the Emperor: “The dynasty is in danger—we must reform the government.”

But the previously obedient young Emperor found, as he grew older, that his trusted Grand Tutor only knew how to talk about reform and didn’t put the Emperor’s own interests first.

He had been Emperor for many years, working tirelessly every day. The state treasury was full, but his private coffers were empty. If he wanted to build a garden, he still needed the Cabinet’s approval.

When ministers are strong and the ruler weak, it’s difficult to escape death.

The Imperial Grand Heir hadn’t personally witnessed this period—he’d only heard it from his father.

He held his teacup, his index finger tapping against the cup wall. “His Majesty developed murderous intent.”

But Grand Tutor Zhe implicated too many people. He feared too much resistance and was mindful of his brotherhood with Duan Boyan, so in the spring of the tenth year of Yuanshao, he first sent Duan Boyan out of Luoyang to suppress bandits in the southwest. Using another year’s time, in the winter of the tenth year of Yuanshao, before Duan Boyan could lead his troops back to the capital, he gave Grand Tutor Zhe a cup of poisoned wine, saying: “Master taught me: ‘If it benefits the nation, I will face life or death’—now Master has become a chronic disease of the state and ought to die.”

Lan Shanjun’s scalp tingled as she listened. She had thought Grand Tutor Zhe died of natural causes at a ripe age, but it turned out to be a cup of poison.

The Imperial Grand Heir: “Afterward, His Majesty demoted some and punished others, and using filial piety as pretext, ordered the entire Zhe family to escort the Grand Tutor’s coffin back to Yunzhou for mourning. By the time my maternal great-uncle returned, the court had already been replaced with a new batch of people.”

“Though my maternal great-uncle grieved deeply, he never doubted the truth of this matter. He only thought the Grand Tutor had died from overwork, and because of local unrest, he continued without pause to lead troops to suppress bandits and resist foreign enemies.”

To say His Majesty had no good points would actually be incorrect.

“When my maternal great-uncle was fighting battles outside, His Majesty never spoke carelessly. Whether military provisions or horses, he provided everything, trusting him completely. It’s just… while he was doing right by the nation, he began to ‘feel sorry’ for himself. He replaced the Ministers of Personnel, War, Justice, Revenue and several other departments with obedient ones, and began amassing wealth.”

Lan Shanjun’s breath caught. “How did he amass wealth?”

The Imperial Grand Heir spoke solemnly: “Each had their own methods… but for the Ministry of War, it was military provisions.”

Lan Shanjun’s eyes widened. “So… so in the eighteenth year of Yuanshao…”

The Imperial Grand Heir nodded. “In the eighteenth year of Yuanshao, Shuzhou had an uprising. My maternal great-uncle, who had been suppressing bandits in the southwest, was then dispatched to Shuzhou. This time, he took his own son.”

But because military provisions were embezzled and grain supplies were cut off, the battle at Shuzhou nearly ended in defeat.

Even though they didn’t lose that time, the losses were catastrophic. Duan Boyan’s son was lost in that battle.

Yu Qingwu, who had been silent all this time, spoke up: “Was it merely that military provisions had problems and grain supplies were cut off?”

Lan Shanjun immediately looked over, and after a few moments understood as well, looking at the Imperial Grand Heir with bright eyes.

The Imperial Grand Heir remained silent, seemingly deliberating. It was the Grand Heir Consort who spoke bluntly: “The troops were falsified—ghost soldiers collecting empty salaries.”

Six words made Lan Shanjun spring to her feet, breathing rapidly. “We also guessed this—so it’s actually true?”

The Imperial Grand Heir sighed and nodded. “It’s true.”

“In the Battle of Shuzhou in the eighteenth year of Yuanshao, when my maternal great-uncle’s son, Young General Duan Ming, led troops into battle and was trapped in Chongzhou, he thought reinforcements would arrive, but no one came. Young General Duan died in battle. My maternal great-grandmother grieved excessively and passed away before my maternal great-uncle returned. My maternal great-uncle said he had failed them, mother and son—from then on, he was unwilling to remarry or have children.”

Lan Shanjun sank powerlessly into her chair. “So that’s how it is.”

She murmured: “The old monk told me… in this life, he has no wife or children—he said someone like him doesn’t deserve them.”

She had always thought he meant he was poor and homeless, unworthy of marrying and having children.

So he actually felt he was guilty.

Yu Qingwu silently handed her a handkerchief, then said: “Wu Qingchuan constantly taught me about troops and horses—it must be because he knew this secret.”

The Imperial Grand Heir nodded. “It was also from that time that my maternal great-uncle finally discovered that after his many years away at war, the court was no longer the court of old, the ministers were not the ministers of old, and the Emperor was not the Emperor of old.”

“He also discovered that he could kill all enemy troops, but if the enemy was internal, he couldn’t kill them all. Outside, one could stake one’s life in battle, but the organs inside—the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys—couldn’t be dug out.”

From the first year of Yuanshao to the eighteenth year, nearly twenty years—everything had changed.

Yu Qingwu thought for a moment and asked: “During this Battle of Shuzhou, what was His Majesty thinking?”

The Imperial Grand Heir sighed. “Don’t doubt it—His Majesty also felt deep sorrow.”

Lan Shanjun scoffed. “A cat crying over a mouse—false compassion.”

The Grand Heir Consort: “Who says otherwise? But he is His Majesty.”

She said: “My maternal great-uncle… he and His Majesty grew up together. In many ways, his thoughts differ from ours. He… he directly forced His Majesty to hand over all the chief culprits.”

“His Majesty felt both guilty and furious, but ultimately still handed over several ministers and a batch of officials, telling my maternal great-uncle: Consider them buried as companions to A’Ming.”

Lan Shanjun: “Only said they’d be buried as companions to Young General Duan?”

The Grand Heir Consort: “Yes.”

Lan Shanjun closed her eyes. “The old monk must have been utterly disappointed.”

The Grand Heir Consort nodded: “In the twentieth year of Yuanshao, my maternal great-uncle executed many corrupt officials. During that period, anyone connected to corruption cases lived in constant fear. But there were truly too many people—they couldn’t all be killed. So he punished the serious offenders and released the minor ones lightly, and only then did the court fall into an eerie calm.”

That same year, the sixteen-year-old Crown Prince formally entered the court. Seeing the court’s deep-rooted problems, he shared common aspirations with Duan Boyan and knelt begging the Emperor to reform the administration of officials.

The Grand Heir Consort frowned as she reached this point. “I saw a fatal situation.”

The Emperor naturally didn’t want this. If they followed their methods, who would earn silver for him? Military provisions could be surrendered, ghost soldiers’ salaries could be given up, but there had to be a way to fill his private coffers.

The Imperial Grand Heir had been listening until this point, then drank down his cup of tea and interrupted the Grand Heir Consort, saying: “Father, my maternal great-uncle, and His Majesty’s conflicts deepened until they became unavoidable… and the truth of Grand Tutor Zhe’s death was revealed.”

For the Emperor, this was not a glorious chapter of history—it was an old wound. Having it exposed by his own son and sworn brother was truly humiliating, so he began to loathe these two people.

“Under such circumstances, with the enmity of killing his master, His Majesty no longer trusted my maternal great-uncle, so he wouldn’t give him troops to campaign in Shuzhou—he feared my maternal great-uncle would rebel against Luoyang.”

But Lan Shanjun felt something was wrong. “Wait—given the old monk’s temperament, he wouldn’t reveal what happened back then knowing His Majesty already loathed him.”

The Imperial Grand Heir paused, lowering his head to pour tea. “Indeed… but he still wanted to continue Grand Tutor Zhe’s reforms back then. His Majesty was displeased in his heart, and what followed happened naturally.”

Lan Shanjun hesitated. “Is that so?”

The Imperial Grand Heir: “Yes.”

“In the twenty-ninth year of Yuanshao, His Majesty appointed your grandfather Lan Huaiyin as commanding general. To annihilate the Shu army in one stroke and intimidate other regions, he dispatched a hundred thousand troops.”

Yu Qingwu immediately asked: “Were these hundred thousand troops falsified?”

The Imperial Grand Heir: “No—”

But the Grand Heir Consort laughed coldly. “How could there not be.”

She said softly: “From the tenth to the eighteenth year of Yuanshao, over eight years, His Majesty collected ghost salaries for a hundred thousand troops. In the eighteenth year of Yuanshao, fifty thousand of these ghost soldiers were given to my maternal great-uncle—”

She suddenly stood up and cursed the Imperial Grand Heir: “Why are you concealing this—why don’t you dare tell them!”

She panted with anger, gritting her teeth, speaking faster and faster: “Clearly a hundred thousand troops were ghost soldiers, but Ni Tao helped His Majesty fabricate evidence, claiming only fifty thousand were ghost soldiers—making my maternal great-uncle believe it was only fifty thousand! When in the twenty-ninth year of Yuanshao, Shuzhou rebelled again and my maternal great-uncle took inventory of troop strength and discovered something wrong—”

She cried out loudly: “There was still time then!”

“But His Majesty flew into a rage from shame, lured him and Father into the palace and placed them under house arrest, forbidding them from revealing the truth. He even went all in, allowing Lan Huaiyin to lead away these fifty thousand ghost soldiers!”

Though Lan Shanjun had already suspected this, she still couldn’t process it after hearing these words. When she came to her senses, she saw the Grand Heir Consort trembling and sobbing, each word dripping with blood: “Father—Father drank that poisoned wine to beg His Majesty not to falsify ghost soldiers, not to disregard the lives of the common people and soldiers—”

“He was confined in a chamber, dying in despair while clinging to his last thread of hope!”

“He begged His Majesty to spare my maternal great-uncle, spare the Eastern Palace and Shu ministers, spare Shuzhou and the troops Lan Huaiyin led—a thousand wrongs, ten thousand wrongs, the fault lay with him alone.”

He shouldn’t have investigated those fifty thousand troops.

The Grand Heir Consort suppressed her voice as she wept bitterly: “But was he truly wrong? In my maternal great-uncle’s final twelve years, remembering Father’s death, bearing the weight of Father’s death, surely his organs were being gnawed at daily—he didn’t dig out the traitors’ organs, but allowed the past to devour his own!”

Lan Shanjun stood dazed for a long moment, then suddenly said: “This is truly… shocking beyond words.”

No wonder Ni Wanyuan chose death to remonstrate.

She shook her head, murmuring: “The common people of this world—how innocent they are, yet their lives are turned into jade stepping stones beneath the Emperor’s feet, turned into the wine and meat of the powerful, turned into someone else’s life.”