As news spread to the rear courtyard, Taohua hurried to comfort Gu Huairou. Everyone else quickly discerned the shifting winds and followed Taohua’s lead. Mei Zhaoxue sat alone in Linghan Hall, reflecting on her actions, with no one daring to approach her.
“Her father relies solely on the Crown Prince’s support,” Gu Qingying remarked, waving her handkerchief as she stood in Wenqing Pavilion. “The Crown Prince’s position isn’t very secure now. His hand injury hasn’t healed, and he’s at odds with Prince Heng. Who knows whose world it will be in the future? Lady Gu, don’t be too upset. Those who do evil will eventually face retribution!”
Taohua paused, glancing back at her.
This woman dares to say anything!
Noticing Taohua’s gaze, Gu Qingying realized she might have misspoken and quickly covered her mouth. “That’s not what I meant… In any case, Lady Gu, please take heart. We don’t want our Lady Jiang to worry too much.”
Gu Huairou pursed her lips, leaning against the headboard as she spoke softly, “In this courtyard, family background and status are still the most important things. Mei’s father can help the master in many ways. Given this outcome, I have nothing more to say.”
Gu Qingying was taken aback, as if suddenly understanding. “So that’s the reason. No wonder…”
No wonder Lady Jiang wanted them to persuade their families to help the Minister. It was truly for their good!
Deeply moved, she glanced at Jiang Taohua, silently formulating a plan. Upon returning from Wenqing Pavilion, she immediately wrote a letter home and sent it to her mother to discuss matters.
Nan Gongqin and the other ambitious attendants were not idle either. Suddenly, Shen Zaiye inexplicably received goodwill from many people. Even officials who had previously been ambiguous in their stance now came to pledge their sincere allegiance.
It didn’t take much thought to understand what was happening. Shen Zaiye smiled, not bothering to discuss it with Jiang Taohua. He accepted her kindness in full and swiftly put it to use.
Meanwhile, the Prince Nan accompanied the Emperor on an incognito tour of the capital.
Since recovering from a serious illness, the Emperor increasingly disliked staying in the palace. He often went on private visits, wanting to see the true state of his realm. Previously, he had been accompanied by guards, but today, on a whim, he brought Mu Wuxia along.
“You must be bored staying in the prince’s mansion all day,” Emperor Mingde said, looking at him kindly. “Today, you can accompany your father on an outing.”
Mu Wuxia was startled but bowed, saying, “In response to Father Emperor, your son has not been confined to the mansion. I am quite familiar with all corners of the capital.”
“Oh?” The Emperor was surprised. “Aren’t Wuyin and the others always staying in their territories? You seem to enjoy roaming about.”
“I have free time,” Mu Wuxia replied, lowering his gaze. “If Father Emperor has any place he wishes to visit, I can guide you.”
“Excellent!” Emperor Mingde was delighted, patting his back. “I’ve neglected you. I didn’t expect that among all my sons, you would be the one most attuned to the people’s conditions. Although this world is mine, to achieve lasting fame, one must take care of the common folk.”
Mu Wuxia was taken aback and opened his mouth to speak but held back. The Emperor, of course, noticed this slight change in expression and raised an eyebrow. “If you have something to say, speak freely. Today, we are just father and son, not ruler and subject.”
“Such words might seem treasonous to Father Emperor,” Mu Wuxia raised his head, his eyes full of sincerity. “But since you’ve asked me to speak frankly, I’ll dare to ask one question — Father Emperor, do you care for the common people solely to ensure your name lives on in history?”
The Emperor was stunned, his expression darkening slightly. “As an emperor, who doesn’t want to leave a lasting legacy? I’m willing to put in the effort to ensure that people live well. What’s wrong with that?”
Mu Wuxia pressed his lips together and asked, looking down, “Then if one day, Father Emperor’s reputation conflicts with the lives of the people, how would you choose?”
“How is that possible?” the Emperor said, displeased. “Even if such a possibility existed, for the sake of the greater good, the emperor’s reputation would certainly be more important.”
Mu Wuxia pursed his lips and shook his head. “I truly cannot accept Father Emperor’s viewpoint.”
Previously, he had been punished twice for disagreeing with the Emperor’s political views, which had made him fall further out of favor. But Mu Wuxia didn’t feel he was wrong. Emperor Mingde was too self-centered; ruling like this would never lead to lasting fame. Doing superficial work for the sake of a good reputation — how could that withstand the test of time?
Emperor Mingde grew slightly annoyed but, remembering he had asked for honesty, suppressed his anger and said coldly, “This is why you can’t become the Crown Prince. You don’t understand how to be a good emperor.”
Mu Wuxia lowered his head in silence.
“Your Majesty, the Literary Platform is just ahead,” someone respectfully said from outside the carriage. “Would you like to take a look?”
The Literary Platform was an educational forum set up by great Confucian scholars of the capital, located near the City God Temple. Children who couldn’t afford private tutoring would come here for lessons, and many officials also studied here. It was the best place to control the thoughts of the literati.
Emperor Mingde alighted from the carriage, with Mu Wuxia following behind. As soon as they stepped through the main gate of the Literary Platform, they saw many people bowing in greeting.
The Emperor was startled and looked down at himself, frowning. “I’m not wearing imperial robes. How did they recognize me?”
Mu Wuxia was at a loss for words, unsure how to explain. As he hesitated, a scholar approached and bowed to him, saying, “Senior Brother Mu, the master happens to be here today. Will you pay your respects?”
Senior Brother Mu? Emperor Mingde turned his head to look at the scholar, thinking this was quite novel. Instead of addressing him as Prince, he dared to use his surname. Mu was the imperial surname!
“I understand,” Mu Wuxia nodded. “I’ll look around first and then pay my respects to the master later.”
“Very well,” the scholar bowed, also giving a simple bow to the Emperor before leaving.
Emperor Mingde narrowed his eyes, scanning the surroundings. He then realized that these scholars were bowing to Mu Wuxia, not because they had recognized his own identity.
“You have connections with this Literary Platform?”
Mu Wuxia bowed and said, “Your son often comes to teach on behalf of the master, so I am somewhat acquainted with them.”
Teach? The Emperor was shocked. “You’re only sixteen. I’ve heard that those who teach here are all famous scholars. What business do you have here?”
Lowering his head stiffly, Mu Wuxia didn’t know how to explain. However, a poorly dressed young attendant nearby overheard and immediately said with a smile, “The master once said, ‘Don’t judge a person by their age.’ Although Master Mu is young, he is well-versed in Confucian studies and has outstanding literary talent. He is truly a role model for all to learn from. If you don’t believe it, sir, you can listen to Master Mu’s lecture.”
The Emperor was astonished. He looked at the prince standing silently before him with his head bowed, and after a long while, he said, “You have such accomplishments, yet you’ve never mentioned this to me?”
“It’s unrelated to state affairs, so there was nothing worth mentioning,” Mu Wuxia smiled slightly. “Your son is still young. When I reach the level of mastery of my teacher, I will then report it to Father Emperor.”
This child… The Emperor shook his head and led him inside. “Since you can teach, I should listen. Come, give me a lecture.”
(End of Chapter)