The remaining ministers looked at one another in bewilderment. They had not expected that, faced with the collective protest of the entire court, the Emperor would not even register the faintest flicker of annoyance — and would actually propose to sit it out alongside them.

Han Linfeng was also in the hall. He simply chose a spot beside one of the corridor pillars and settled there cross-legged, leaning against it. A perceptive palace attendant immediately brought the Crown Prince a cushion.

Han Linfeng glanced at the ministers kneeling across the floor, then produced a volume on military strategy from inside his wide sleeve and began reading it at his unhurried leisure.

Officials of humble origin like Li Guitian — who had no objection to the equalization policy — could not simply abandon the Emperor and leave him to manage this host of noble-family ministers alone, so they too knelt down on the ground and settled in to wait it out alongside everyone else.

As midday approached, the Emperor showed not the slightest inclination toward adjournment. The ministers kneeling below, though they had taken the precaution of sewing thick padding inside the knees of their trousers, could no longer hold out against the sustained discomfort. One here and there gritted his teeth and shifted position ever so slightly, trying to coax some blood back into numbed legs. The older ones, abandoning all pretense of court decorum, had begun to follow the Crown Prince’s example and simply sat themselves down entirely, giving their aching backs some relief.

But as trying as the ache in their waists and legs might be, the growling and gurgling coming from their stomachs seemed to cause them even greater distress.

In ordinary times, officials were careful not to eat too much before morning court — to avoid the indignity of belching or breaking wind before the throne — and would typically fortify themselves with only a bowl of thin rice gruel to warm the stomach before setting out. After all, there was always a side hall near the palace offering a proper breakfast once court was dismissed.

But today, the Emperor — seeing the assembled ministers in their righteous fervor — had proposed that they experience together the hunger of the common people.

There was little by way of reserves in the ministers’ stomachs, and before long the sounds of intestinal protest began to rise, one belly after another, in something of a rolling chorus.

The Emperor and the Crown Prince, it so happened, had eaten rather substantially that morning.

When Luoyun had heard from Han Linfeng that the court ministers were likely to cause trouble and that he and his father intended to outlast them on the strength of what they had already eaten, she had instructed the kitchen the previous night to prepare filling dishes — noodle soup and braised beef, the sort of food that sat well and stayed with you.

Inside Han Linfeng’s wide sleeve, alongside the military volume that served as entertainment, there was also a small bag of dried meat that his wife had packed for him.

The Emperor, though he declined to let the ministers leave the hall to eat, did allow them relief for necessities.

So that the assembled ministers would not have to keep making the trek back and forth — which might break the solemn atmosphere of their seated protest — the Emperor had thoughtfully ordered a side chamber to be opened, where folding screens, chamber pots, fresh water, and fragrant incense had been arranged. After each minister made use of the facilities, palace attendants were on hand at once to replace the chamber pots — making the entire arrangement clean and convenient.

Han Linfeng availed himself of these visits to slip behind the screen and eat some of his dried meat, and had also accepted the tea and refreshments passed to him by the eunuchs to fortify his stomach further, before returning to the hall to continue the standoff with the ministers.

The Emperor proceeded in identical fashion — entering behind the screen for his necessary business, and emerging with the suspiciously satisfied expression of a man who had just had a snack.

As for officials like Li Guitian, who were close to the Emperor, the expressions on their faces upon returning from their “necessary relief” also became notably composed and serene.

A few ministers kneeling near the side chamber could hear the sounds of something being chewed behind the screen, but when they attempted to rise and investigate, they were blocked by the guards and eunuchs, who would not permit anyone to disturb His Majesty and the Crown Prince during their private moment.

Since they could not catch anyone in the act, the ministers had no grounds on which to ask the two exalted personages whether what was happening behind the screen was what they claimed.

As for those officials of common birth, they had nothing to say to the noble-family men at the best of times — their positions in the court chamber had always been clearly separated — and now there was even less to discuss.

At any rate, when those great-family men went behind the screen, there was not so much as a cup of tea waiting for them. If they were too thirsty to endure, they could only drink the water meant for washing their hands.

By the time the afternoon wore on, some ministers were hunched over their stomachs, moaning softly from hunger.

But since the leaders of the major families had not yet called it off, the rest could only clench their teeth and hold their ground.

Then, at just that moment, the Emperor picked up a scroll of documents from beside him, and said in an unhurried, drawn-out tone: “We almost forgot — this is the document bearing agreement to the land equalization tax reform. If any minister has by now experienced something of the hunger and suffering endured by those landless common people, he may come forward to affix his name, after which he is free to leave and attend to state affairs. Ah yes — Duke of Junguogong, you have already signed, have you not? Why are you still sitting here keeping Us company? Go home, go home — enjoy the rest of your evening.”

With that, the Emperor instructed the eunuchs to bring the document forward. There, unmistakably, was the Duke of Junguogong’s name.

Every remaining minister’s eyes went wide, locking onto the traitor with burning intensity. The Duke of Lu’s cheeks were actually trembling with fury.

They had all made their agreement beforehand — they would absolutely not allow the Emperor to establish a precedent for taxing the great families’ landholdings.

Because once he opened the door to taxing newly acquired land, what was to stop the court from eventually extending that levy to their existing holdings the next time the treasury ran short? It was not as though any of them had only a few acres to their names. If the tax were applied to everything registered under their families, the sum would be enormous.

What great family did not have a vast network of clansmen and descendants to sustain, disciples and servants to provide for, and an already heavy burden of household expenses? How could any of them afford to shoulder additional levies on top of all that?

Yet this Duke of Junguogong, who had given his word so readily just like the others — how had he turned around and sold out every one of them?

The treacherous wretch — utterly insufferable.

The Duke of Junguogong was suffering in his own way. Could he tell them that his wife’s thoughtless scheming had brought catastrophe down upon them all and forced his hand?

Feeling the daggers being shot at him from all directions, the Duke of Junguogong simply lowered his eyelids, offered his thanks to the Emperor, rose, and took his leave.

Staying behind would only make his position worse from every angle. Better to go home and have a proper meal while he still could. The sun was nearly setting — enduring a whole day without food had been absolutely wretched.

At precisely that moment, the officials of common birth who had been sitting quietly throughout rose one after another and made their way to the document, affixing their names. They had all come from ordinary backgrounds. Though they too held some grant land, they had never enjoyed tax exemptions, and this new policy had little practical impact on their own circumstances. Moreover, from where they stood, what the Emperor was doing was precisely what sound governance required — why would they resist it?

As name after name went down on the document, some of the great-family ministers could no longer stay still. The Duke of Junguogong’s quiet defection behind their backs had utterly destroyed the morale of their coalition.

They had all begun to feel that the Duke of Junguogong was too clever for his own good, currying favor with the Emperor in secret like that. And if they kept refusing to sign while everyone else capitulated, would they not end up looking like they did not know how to read a situation?

Besides, the Emperor was clearly determined to outlast them, without limit.

The Emperor and the Crown Prince could disappear behind the screen at intervals to find something to eat, while they were genuinely, truly starving.

As the evening passed, most of the great-family ministers were still seated in silent protest in the flickering candlelight, the hall resembling nothing so much as a vigil for the dead. Every face wore the stricken, hollow look of extreme hunger.

And then the small brazier behind that screen grew increasingly unconscionable — the smell of roasting lamb tripe began to drift into the hall. The foreign spices had been seared over the charcoal into an intoxicating and exotic fragrance, and to the nostrils of starving men as midnight drew near, that smell was more deadly than the hook of any ghoul sent to drag away the damned.

One elderly minister finally cried out, voice quaking with indignation: “This minister dares ask — is there roasted meat inside that chamber pot?”

Han Yi tapped the armrest of the dragon throne with two fingers, stretched out the words with deliberate slowness, and replied: “We smell nothing of the sort. Elder Minister, could you be mistaken?”

The old minister was so furious he could not speak. At his age, he could certainly tell the smell of meat from the smell of anything else.

Emperor Above — to what sort of lawless rogue from the countryside have you handed the imperial throne? Great Wei, the heavens themselves are about to overturn.

In the end, someone broke first. He shuffled over to the Duke of Lu and said in a low voice: “My lord, you know I suffer from a stomach complaint. Two years ago I even passed blood. If I go on starving like this, someone truly will not survive the night. Might we not call off today’s action and allow me to return home for a meal before we deliberate further?”

Before the Duke of Lu could even respond, the minister with the stomach ailment had already risen, gone to the document and affixed his name, then hurried out clutching his stomach.

With someone having made the first move, a few others who could no longer endure began to follow. They had no stomach ailment to cite — they simply felt that sitting here accomplishing nothing was not a viable strategy. It only antagonized the Emperor while solving nothing.

Since the new policy had not yet touched their existing landholdings, perhaps the wisest course was to proceed one step at a time. And since the Duke of Junguogong had already taken the lead in signing, what could they possibly achieve by sitting here any longer? Were they simply being foolish?

And so the supposedly impenetrable alliance of the great families began to fragment and scatter. Aside from the Duke of Lu and a handful of the most powerful families, the rest rose one by one and added their names to the document.

After all, yielding to the Emperor was something one could neither do too early nor leave too late.

This new Emperor’s methods were nothing like those of the Emperor Above — the man was simply shameless, quite literally prepared to starve them to death.

Every man in that court had a household full of responsibilities. Dying of starvation was hardly acceptable. So when the tide turned against them, retreat was clearly the sensible choice.

The Duke of Lu felt his heart sink lower and lower. At last, when only a handful of figures remained in the great hall, he slowly rose and made his way toward the document.

The Crown Prince did not return to the palace until midnight. Luoyun had already lain down, but she had not let the palace maids extinguish the lamps — she lay half-drowsing, half-awake, waiting for Han Linfeng to come back.

When she heard the door of the bedchamber open, she was instantly wide awake.

Han Linfeng came to the bedside and looked at her, unable to keep from asking: “Why are you still not asleep?”

Luoyun poked her head out from under the covers, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I heard reports from the palace attendants that the Emperor sat it out with the ministers all day — some of the older ones were so hungry they were retching acid. What about you? Are you hungry? I’ll have someone bring food.”

Han Linfeng laughed. “Did you not already send roasted lamb tripe for me and Father? How could I possibly be hungry? You should be asking whether I need a digestive pill.”

Luoyun laughed too. “The imperial kitchens happened to butcher two black-wooled sheep sent from the northern territories today. I had heard from Han Yao that you and the Emperor are both fond of lamb tripe, so I had some prepared and sent over for the evening. Though I was a bit worried — the smell of the meat is quite strong, and I thought it might be inconvenient for you to eat it discreetly. I was afraid you might not get to eat it at all, and the whole gesture would be wasted. But did it work? Did all those great-family ministers come around in the end?”

Han Linfeng nodded. “When Father produced the document with the Duke of Junguogong’s signature already on it, their line of defense cracked open. And the roasted lamb tripe you sent in did remarkable service — the moment that cumin fragrance spread through the air, those old relics were practically drooling on the stone floor. Still, that lot has their heads stuffed with nothing but petty scheming and self-interest. They truly deserved to be sat out for three days and three nights. Starve one, consider it a mercy.”

Luoyun rested her hand on his back and said gently: “If someone had actually starved to death, the Emperor’s reputation would have been ruined. I also had the imperial physicians prepare restorative ginseng slices for your attendants — just in case any elderly minister in the hall truly took a turn for the worse, there had to be something on hand to revive them.”

Han Linfeng pinched her cheek lightly. “You think of everything — no wonder you couldn’t sleep. How are you today? Has the little one been giving you trouble?”

Luoyun nestled comfortably into his arms. “Much better these past few days. I ate an entire leg of garlic-roasted mutton entirely on my own — Xiangcao watched from the side looking positively horrified. She asked if I was trying to make up for all the meals I had missed over the past several weeks in a single sitting.”

Hearing that his wife had recovered her appetite, Han Linfeng broke into a warm, open laugh. “Eat as much as you like. I’ll have more sent from the northern territories.”

Watching Su Luoyun endure more than a full month of morning sickness and finally be able to eat again, Han Linfeng felt the last of his worry leave him. But he could not stay by Luoyun’s side all day — there were still trips to the countryside to be made.

Though the land equalization policy had now secured the agreement of the court ministers, putting it into effect depended entirely on whether the people implementing it at the local level could be relied upon. Land matters invariably offered the most opportunity for graft and corruption, and if the policy was not carried out fairly it would defeat its own purpose. So Han Linfeng, working closely with the Ministry of Finance and the officials across every prefecture and county, needed to keep a tight watch over the process of recording and issuing land deeds.

In the past, wealthier households that had not enjoyed tax exemptions had devised their own ways of evading the land levy. One common method involved bribing local officials and taking a head-and-tail-concealing approach — registering in the official land registry only half the actual acreage they owned, while keeping accurate records in their own private deeds for the purposes of buying and selling. This way, when paying taxes they could claim the lower figure from the official registry, while still transacting their land purchases and sales at true value — a neatly flexible arrangement.

Han Linfeng’s next step was therefore to conduct a complete re-survey and re-measurement of all land currently registered with local government offices.

Wherever discrepancies were found between private deeds and official registry figures, the official registry acreage would be taken as definitive. Any land in excess of that figure would be confiscated outright into the public holdings and rented at low rates to village farmers for cultivation.

This measure was considerably more severe than the equalization reform itself, and sent many people into a panic. Some rushed urgently to the government offices to have their registered figures corrected before the discrepancies were caught — otherwise their finest farmland would be confiscated entirely.

Of course, there were also those who, confident in their own connections, felt that even if the new Emperor was burning bright with reforming zeal, the flames would never reach them specifically. If an inspection did come to their door, money could always be used to buy one’s way out.

And then there were those with even more formidable connections, who went directly to the source — approaching the Crown Prince Han Linfeng himself and asking him to make an exception for them.

The sort of person with the sheer confidence to approach the Crown Prince in that manner was naturally no ordinary figure: it was that old acquaintance of his, You Shanyue.

The old god of wealth had sent someone to relay a message to him, the general gist of which was a direct request for exemption from the land tax — to have his merchant household granted the same tax-free status as noble families of meritorious distinction.

After all, a merchant of his almost incomprehensible wealth naturally had considerable landholdings in his name. Under the scrutiny of the current investigation, the sum of taxes he would be liable to pay annually was not inconsiderable.

Every coin You Shanyue spent was placed where it would do him the most good. An open-ended annual land levy running into the indefinite future simply did not fit into his calculations.

He evidently felt himself to be the foremost contributor to the Prince of Beizhen’s rise to power. What was more, he had previously done the new Emperor the face of lending a substantial sum to tide over the treasury. If such services went unrewarded, then Han Linfeng was simply a man with no sense of human feeling whatsoever.

When Han Linfeng received You Shanyue’s letter — as brazen and shameless as the man himself — he gave a cold snort and slapped it down on the desk.

Luoyun was lying on the daybed in his study, reading. Seeing his irritation, she asked: “What is it?”

“The old rat has come to collect his reward. He has vast holdings of land in his name, and yet he is invoking his supposed service to the nation to demand an exemption from the land tax.”

You Shanyue was the archetypal rapacious merchant — precisely as lavish in financing men of power as he was in squeezing every drop he could from the common people. He had connections everywhere, and his land tax burden had long since come to mirror that of the great noble families, benefiting from no small number of special concessions. His various commercial establishments were also registered with a whole array of tax reductions and exemptions.

Now that a re-audit of landholdings was in the offing, he had come to call in favors from Han Linfeng.

Luoyun slowly sat up. “I had thought that at his age, and with that level of wealth, he would have made a certain peace with money and let go a little more easily. These taxes are the foundation of the state. He cannot take them with him when he dies. Why does he have to be this greedy?”

Han Linfeng let out a cold snort. “Where else does he think the money comes from to fund all these powerful figures he props up? None of it is clean money. But when he spends it that way, he gets their protection and backing in return, and can do as he pleases — manipulating affairs of state from behind the scenes. If that same money were handed over as taxes to build bridges and roads for ordinary people, who would ever remember his name for it?”

There was also the matter of the scheme that had deceived Zhao Dong and framed Queen Wang for the death of the General’s first wife — that too must have been instigated by You Shanyue. Goodness only knew what other schemes he had been operating behind the scenes, pulling the strings of various powerful figures.

Now that Han Linfeng had set about clearing up the land situation, it was a good moment to deal with this well-fed large rat that the land system had been nourishing for so long.

A few days later, Han Linfeng had to leave the capital again on business.

But this time, barely outside the city gates, he spotted a familiar figure waiting at the roadside pavilion.

Fang Jinrou had heard word that Han Linfeng would be accompanying Ministry of Finance officials on a trip to the rural counties, and had come specifically to intercept him here.

She had concluded that going to Su Luoyun first had been a tactical error. Far better to confront Han Linfeng directly — to clear up the misunderstanding over that letter all those years ago, and at the same time let him know that her feelings for him had never wavered.

Fang Jinrou had dressed with particular care that day, leaving off her traveling veil, and waited in the pavilion.

When she saw the Crown Prince’s procession approaching, her eyes lit up and she immediately stepped forward to greet him.

Han Linfeng frowned at the sight of a woman who had absolutely no business being here. His first instinct was to ignore her entirely and ride past.

But then he thought of how she had recently had the nerve to present herself before Luoyun and pitch herself as a candidate for the household — causing no small amount of aggravation — and so Han Linfeng did pull his horse to a halt.

Just as Fang Jinrou stepped forward and drew breath to speak, Han Linfeng had already clasped his hands from horseback in a gesture of greeting and said: “Ninth Aunt by marriage — what brings you all the way out here?”

By the reckoning of their family relations, Princess Yuyang was Han Linfeng’s grand-aunt through the imperial family. That made the Ninth Prince his grand-uncle. Addressing the Ninth Prince’s widow as “Aunt by marriage” was therefore entirely proper and correct.

But Fang Jinrou, who had come today with her lips painted and her face exquisitely powdered, looking every inch a luminous and striking beauty — was now utterly thrown by this single formal address, left reeling in the wind with no idea how to respond.

She stared at the man on horseback, whose expression was perfectly blank and impassive, and felt something inside her finally give way. A sob broke in her throat. “Han Linfeng — is this really all because my parents kept the letter from me and I failed to answer you? Is that why you are treating me this way?”

Han Linfeng’s brow furrowed again slightly. This time he did cup his hands in a gesture of apology. “That matter is something I owe you an explanation for. At the time, I had already guessed the letter would not reach you. I simply did not expect you would come to hear of it afterward.”

Fang Jinrou had always believed that Han Linfeng, having been compelled by the Emperor to marry a blind woman entirely unsuited to him, had written to her seeking her help — and that her parents had coldly refused him. Surely it must have been that rejection that had left Han Linfeng harboring resentment toward her.

But now she heard Han Linfeng say calmly that he had never wanted her to see that letter to begin with, and Fang Jinrou could make no sense of it at all.

Han Linfeng simply laid it all out plainly, cutting off once and for all whatever lingering hope this “aunt by marriage” of his still carried. “To speak honestly — that letter was not so much written for you, Aunt, as it was written for the Emperor Above. At the time, I had set my heart entirely on Luoyun. But she had reservations about marrying me. So I wanted to request an imperial decree arranging our marriage, to prevent her from refusing. You know that Luoyun’s birth was rather modest — ordinarily, there would have been no possibility of the Emperor Above issuing such a decree. But if the Duke of Lu were to see a good-for-nothing like me setting his sights on his precious daughter, he would certainly go and lodge a complaint with the Emperor Above — and the Emperor Above would then have the perfect opening to push our marriage through and remove that obstacle.”

Fang Jinrou stood very still as she listened, her body swaying slightly. The maidservant at her side reached out quickly to steady her.

Fang Jinrou felt the hope that had sustained her for so long shatter in an instant, leaving nothing behind. Her voice cracked with the force of her desperation: “Han Linfeng, you are lying to me! She was blind at the time — do you know how many people mocked and whispered about you for marrying her? How could you possibly have done it of your own free will?”

Hearing Fang Jinrou call Luoyun “blind” in that manner, Han Linfeng lost even the last trace of apology he had retained. His expression turned to ice. “I never at any point expressed romantic interest in you. And other than your family name and the fact that you are not blind — in what way do you compare to her? If there is nothing further, stop blocking the road. I have official business that cannot be delayed.”

With that, he paid no attention to whether Fang Jinrou had stepped aside or not, spurred his horse, and rode away, his entourage following at a swift pace.

Fang Jinrou was left coughing in the cloud of dust kicked up by the horses’ hooves, stumbling backward — and yet when the coughing finally subsided, she found that her face was covered in tears.

This was the most humiliated she had ever felt in her entire life. Watching Han Linfeng disappear in a trail of dust, Fang Jinrou wept without restraint.

Han Linfeng — how dare you humiliate me so. If I do not make you pay for this, I am not worthy of the name I carry.

As for the matter of the “Ninth Aunt by marriage” blocking the road — it was relayed to the Crown Princess by one of Han Linfeng’s attendants who returned to the palace to retrieve something on the Crown Prince’s behalf, and let slip a word or two in passing.

Luoyun heard what Han Linfeng had said to Fang Jinrou, and even without having been there, she could perfectly imagine the insufferable effect of Han Linfeng delivering those words with that cold, expressionless face of his.

Han Yao had been spending much of her time lately at the Eastern Palace — helping her sister-in-law go through the guest lists for upcoming banquets, she remarked: “When will Fang the Second ever manage to reform that disposition of hers? Anyone with eyes in their head can see that imperial brother absolutely dotes on you, sister-in-law — yet she insists on believing he is still carrying a torch for her. What torch? Given the way she treats her late husband’s memory and her own young son — not even bothering to care for either of them — the other ladies of the capital all keep a politely wary distance from her as it is.”

She was not, she told herself, speaking ill of anyone behind their back. The ladies who gathered in the capital’s noble households had all been discussing Fang Jinrou in private, saying her heart was too cold — that she could even discard a child that young, her own flesh and blood.

The Fang sisters, who had once been the most coveted young women in the capital and the foremost candidates to become the future Empress — where were they now?

The elder sister had been dragged down by the Sixth Prince and was confined along with her children.

The younger sister, Fang Jinrou, had been scraping by on the honorable title of Prince Rui’s widow, which still brought her some measure of respect and dignity. But she had thrown even that away of her own accord, and was still daydreaming about entering the Eastern Palace — it was impossible not to find it tiresome.

Han Yao thought of how, in her younger years in the capital, Fang Jinrou had led the charge in belittling her — how many times she had been humiliated and driven away in embarrassment — and felt a deep and thoroughly satisfying sense of justice restored.

How the wheel had turned. At recent tea gatherings, it was that Fang the Second who made herself scarce and moved well out of Han Yao’s way.

Luoyun dipped her brush in ink, glanced at her young sister-in-law, and gently reminded her: “Our family came from Liangzhou. Even though we now stand in a high palace, our position rests on military power, not on the goodwill of people’s hearts. What the Emperor and the Crown Prince do in contending with those old court ministers — that is their affair. But we women of the household must never let our feelings of liking or disliking show openly in public, and we must never be seen to be forming factions.”

Han Yao stuck out her tongue with a playful look and said in a small voice: “I know, I know. After all, the Empress has only just come out of the Buddhist prayer hall. Guibei loves eating the dishes I make for him with my own hands. If I end up sent to the prayer hall as well, who is going to feed him?”

Zhao Guibei was currently responsible for the capital’s defensive deployment, and after his daily inspection of the garrison, he took his midday rest at a military office near the encampment.

For these past several days, Han Yao had been packing ingredients already prepped by their cook into a food container, then using the small stove at the military office to heat everything up for her husband.

It was rather like playing house — and the two of them, young as they were, found their own simple delight in it.