His eldest son Zhang Shi, though capable, was soft-hearted, his hand not ruthless enough, and he loved pleasure. After he died, could Zhang Shi truly defend Xiliang?

His gaze swept over Zhang Mao, Wang Rong, Meng Chang, and others, silently thinking that with them present, it would probably be possible.

But there would certainly be complications along the way.

If someone else were emperor, the complications would merely be internal matters within Xiliang, but… Zhao Hanzhang was different.

She would certainly take this opportunity to step into Xiliang. If that happened, the Zhang family’s future would become unpredictable, and Zhang Shi was not someone who could assess situations wisely.

Only his second son Zhang Mao could bend when necessary and stand firm when needed, able to survive under Zhao Hanzhang’s authority.

After finishing writing the memorial requesting the appointment of an heir apparent, Zhang Gui quietly instructed Zhang Mao and his trusted confidants, “After I die, Chengxun must personally submit a memorial requesting His Majesty’s appointment, and strive to report to the capital in person once every two years. You must remember that the Zhang family is not the Xiliang Zhang family, but the Huaguo Xiliang Zhang family. Xiliang belongs to the court, belongs to His Majesty.”

He was not opposing Zhao Hanzhang; he wanted long-term peace and stability for Xiliang, wanted the Zhang family to continue for a hundred generations.

Zhang Mao tearfully agreed.

His trusted confidants had even fewer objections.

Compared to Zhang Shi, they actually trusted Zhang Mao more.

Before Zhang Gui’s stroke, Zhang Shi would disappear every few days, and it was only Zhang Mao who remained by his side. His wisdom and martial skills were recognized by everyone.

He had only one problem—he still had no son, but… he had a daughter.

Everyone exchanged glances. The emperor was also a woman, and Zhang Mao’s daughter was only eight years old. Everything was still in time; they could educate her now.

Among those present, the most bewildered was Zhang Mao himself. He still hadn’t recovered from the shock. At this moment, his mind was full of: When my brother returns, how will I explain this to him?

After finishing their discussion, Zhang Gui became more spirited. He said, “I must live to see His Majesty give birth to her first son, to see Anxun return. Bring me the medicine.”

Zhang Mao snapped back to attention and quickly got up from the floor to fetch the medicine.

Zhao Hanzhang received the memorial from Xiliang at the end of June. Ji Yuan and other high officials all advised Zhao Hanzhang to refuse. “Zhang Shi is the legitimate eldest son. The position of Xiliang Prince’s heir apparent should be inherited by him.”

But thinking of the absurd things Zhang Shi had done in history, Zhao Hanzhang very much wanted to agree to Zhang Gui’s request. However, looking down at her belly, Zhao Hanzhang’s eyes flickered slightly as she nodded, “You all write a formal reply.”

Besides the official document, Zhang Gui had also written Zhao Hanzhang a confidential letter, in which he explained in detail his reasons for choosing Zhang Mao.

Zhao Hanzhang could empathize deeply, so she wrote back to him, hinting: Your considerations are very reasonable, but the system of primogeniture is fundamental. If I easily agree to your establishment of a second son as heir apparent, I fear the officials will overthink it.

Ji Yuan, who went to write the reply, did not know about Zhao Hanzhang’s private correspondence. Their impression of Zhang Shi was quite good, and they believed Zhao Hanzhang’s impression of Zhang Shi should also be favorable, after all, they had conversed pleasantly when she ascended the throne, and she had entrusted him with the major task of the Western Regions diplomatic mission.

Ji Yuan frowned slightly, “Is there still no news from the Western Regions delegation?”

“None. Just two days ago, I went to Tao Zhugong’s residence to inquire, and the merchant caravans he sent out haven’t sent back word either.”

Ji Yuan sighed, “The Silk Road remains impassable because our Huaguo military strength is still insufficient.”

The officials nodded deeply in agreement, feeling they still needed to develop further; they were not yet strong enough.

Zhang Gui had long known it wouldn’t go smoothly, but he hadn’t expected Zhao Hanzhang to reply to his confidential letter this way.

It seemed she had also seen that Zhang Shi was not a good successor, but was constrained by the primogeniture system and couldn’t openly support him.

Zhang Gui became even more certain his choice was correct—he hadn’t chosen the wrong successor, nor the wrong sovereign.

Since Zhao Hanzhang also wanted to select a better Xiliang Prince for Xiliang, she clearly genuinely wanted to lead Xiliang forward together.

Thus Zhang Gui became excited and more energetic, exchanging letters with Zhao Hanzhang four times within a month, making even Zhang Mao take notice.

“Father, we also have a radio station.”

It had been sent by Zhao Hanzhang two years ago, along with a team of telecommunications soldiers and engineers, so some information didn’t need to be delivered overland.

But Zhang Gui refused, “My private conversations with His Majesty should not go through the radio station.”

However, he frequently used the radio station to request the establishment of Zhang Mao as heir apparent, using both official documents and telegraph messages, making the Central Secretariat and Palace Secretariat extremely irritated.

It wasn’t until mid-July, when cotton harvesting began, that Zhang Gui submitted his eighth memorial requesting the appointment of an heir apparent. This time he played the sympathy card, calculating that Zhang Shi had been to the Western Regions for two years and had been out of contact for one year and eight months. He simply couldn’t imagine what had happened to him, nor did he dare to.

But his body was gravely ill, and he clearly couldn’t wait for his return. For the sake of Xiliang’s stability, he begged the emperor to agree to establish Zhang Mao as heir apparent.

He attached his pulse diagnosis and the medicines he was taking, and even had an artist paint his portrait to send to the capital, telling the emperor and officials that he was now emaciated, with difficulty even getting out of bed.

From his stroke in the second year of Yongjia until now, his health had never been good. That he could survive until the second year of Yuanzhen was already a miracle. He felt he had few days left and begged the emperor to consent.

He cried in the letter: “If it were possible, I would naturally hope for my eldest son Anxun to inherit the princely title, but his fate is now unknown. For Xiliang’s long-term welfare, my second son Chengxun is the best choice.”

The letter sent was covered in tearstains. After reading it, Zhao Hanzhang wept openly, moved by Zhang Gui’s fatherly devotion and his loyal heart toward Xiliang, then had Zhao Ming read it aloud to all the officials in court.

After Zhao Ming finished reading, he couldn’t help but sigh, and the officials sighed as well, finally ceasing to obstruct Zhang Gui’s request to establish his second son as heir apparent.

Zhao Hanzhang then issued an edict establishing Zhang Mao as heir apparent to the Xiliang Prince.

After the officials withdrew, some whispered among themselves, “I thought His Majesty had reservations about Xiliang, but didn’t expect she would agree so readily.”

“Isn’t this good?”

The official was silent for a moment before saying quietly, “It is good. His Majesty treats Xiliang generously, and in the future will naturally treat us generously as well.”

“Such a pity that Zhang Shi is not in Xiliang. If he returns alive, what will happen in Xiliang?” Hopefully there wouldn’t be fraternal conflict and chaos in Xiliang.

“This is probably what His Majesty and Minister Ji and others have been worrying about, which is why they were reluctant to agree for so long, but… Prefect Zhang is gravely ill and cannot hold on any longer. Who told Zhang Shi not to be in Xiliang right now?”

“Alas…”

“Alas…”

Everyone felt regret for Zhang Shi, but only Zhao Hanzhang felt fortunate for the people and officials of Xiliang. “Zhang Shi is quite good, he’s just not suitable to be a local official, especially not a prefectural governor serving as the people’s parent official.”

Fu Tinghan ladled soup for her and asked, “Is there still no news of him?”

Speaking of this made Zhao Hanzhang worried. She shook her head, “None. We don’t even know at which section of the road they encountered trouble. They clearly brought a radio station, but no matter how we try to contact them, there’s no response.”

“I suspect the radio station is long gone from their possession. What kind of crisis must this be?” Zhao Hanzhang frowned. “No wonder the people sent out afterward also couldn’t contact them.”

Fu Tinghan looked at her expression and asked, “You want to send troops to the Western Regions?”

Zhao Hanzhang looked down at her belly and nodded, “Wait a bit longer. Once I give birth to her, I’ll send people to the Western Regions.”

Her eyes held a coldness, with the sharpness he was familiar with. “The reason the diplomatic route is so difficult is precisely because the Silk Road is not open. If that’s the case, then I’ll fight to open it!”

—