It was the depths of winter, and the new year was close at hand. The various offices and departments would soon be sealing their registers, and Zhù Ying had assumed that the Emperor’s summons was merely to exchange preliminary intentions. Whether a formal decree or some other procedure would follow, she expected it would all happen after the new year. By her estimation, Dou Peng would retire within a very short time, and the Secretariat would inevitably undergo a round of changes, all of which would take time.

This was not an ideal moment to carry things out. Far better to wait until after the new year, when there would be room to proceed at a measured pace. In the meantime, Yao Chenying could make his way to the capital as well, giving her time to hand over the Ministry of Finance to him — which itself required the transfer of many matters.

But the Emperor had other ideas entirely. The Emperor wished for the new year to begin with a new spirit — for the New Year’s Day morning court to feature a young, energetic face added to the ranks of the Chief Ministers, to give everyone a sense of being “refreshed.”

To that end, he pressed for the decree to be issued. The Secretariat was informed swiftly.

Xian Jing exclaimed in surprise: “Why so suddenly?”

Chen Meng was glad to see it happen, but also felt it was somewhat rushed, and he too muttered, “Exactly, the timing is too tight. There is still much to be handed over, and a hasty transfer might do more harm than good. It might be better to wait until the first month.”

Xian Jing was about to say that waiting until the first month would still be quite rushed. But Dou Peng’s face had broken into a wide, beaming smile. “Ah, why are you two going on like this? If there’s so much to be done, isn’t that all the more reason to add another person? Zizhuang has never let anyone down. Such a minor thing — what’s all this complaining about time being tight? His seniority, his reputation, his achievements are all sufficient, and he is young besides. He should have come long ago.”

Two against one — Xian Jing knew there was no point in blocking it. Zhù Ying would be a better situation than Zheng Xi, at any rate.

The Secretariat moved swiftly to handle the relevant documents. A decree had to be drafted, submitted to the Emperor for approval, and passed through the Department of State Affairs and the Department of Edicts before finally being issued.

Even working as fast as they could, it was not finished that day. They pressed on through the night into the following day. When it was finally ready late in the second day’s afternoon, the Emperor frowned that it was already past noon and said, “Announce the decree first thing tomorrow morning.”

Dou Peng was anxious and said, “Then let me deliver it personally.”

From early morning court that day, Dou Peng had been distracted. After court was dismissed, he rushed to collect the imperial decree and hurried to the Ministry of Finance.

Zhù Ying was there with Ye Deng, Li Yuan, Zhao Su, and the others, reviewing the year’s old archived records. The three had originally been bracing themselves anxiously. During Zhù Ying’s campaign, all the calculations and budget estimates had been in their hands, and all three felt they had not done as well as in years past when Zhù Ying had been present, and were waiting to be reprimanded.

But Zhù Ying took a broader view of it. Sometimes it was not a matter of ability — she was the Minister, Ye and Li were Vice Ministers, and Zhao Su held an even lower position. Their standing was simply different, and the regional lords were well practiced at adjusting their behavior to suit the person in authority. She had skimmed through the work they had done and found it adequate overall, so she let the matter rest.

Going forward, Yao Chenying would be working alongside them. She wanted to take this time to go over the Ministry of Finance’s affairs one more time, to make it easier to hand things over to Yao Chenying once the new year began. While reviewing the records, she was also making notes: “Write this down — there have been two consecutive years of drought now…” and so forth.

Ye Deng and the others gradually began to relax — when the announcement of the decree arrived. And the one bringing it was Dou Peng himself.

Zhù Ying was informed and hurried out to receive him. A Chief Minister arriving in person demanded full ceremony. From a distance she saw an old man with a genial smile, carrying something in both hands, and the closer she looked, the more something seemed off.

Dou Peng said with a broad smile, “Ha-ha, Zizhuang, aren’t you going to prepare to receive the decree? Ha-ha-ha-ha — it’s a good thing.”

That smile…

In the main hall of the Ministry of Finance, a proper arrangement was set up. Dou Peng stood above and read out the decree in full. When the reading was done, Zhù Ying stood briefly motionless.

Dou Peng said, “Starting tomorrow, you’ll be handling matters at the Secretariat! Come, let me take you there first. Quick now, receive this.”

The Ministry of Finance staff were at first stunned, then broke into wild jubilation. Once Zhù Ying had received the decree and turned to hand it to Zhao Su to hold, the Ministry officials began to worry: would the Minister remain concurrently in charge of the Ministry, or would a new Minister be appointed?

The mere thought of a new superior brought on a wave of gloom. How could a new superior compare to the Chief Minister overseeing them personally?

Dou Peng reached out to seize Zhù Ying’s wrist. Zhù Ying’s hand twitched and drew back. Dou Peng missed his grasp, and looked at her with brief surprise. Zhù Ying said, “Why are you more eager about this than I am?”

“Ah, this is a matter of state — it cannot be taken lightly. A decree has been issued, so naturally I must bring you into your role as quickly as possible. Come!”

Zhù Ying said, “I need to make some arrangements here first…”

Ye Deng immediately said, “We have it covered here! Please go, Chief Minister!”

“I still have to submit a memorial to the Emperor,” Zhù Ying said.

“Oh, oh right!” Dou Peng’s enthusiasm dimmed a little. “Very well, then come tomorrow. Today won’t count, I suppose — though you’ve come to the Secretariat often enough before, some things you won’t know unless you’ve actually handled them. Today I’ll explain things to you, and you won’t need to be on duty tonight. After tomorrow, the four of us can work out a rotation schedule…”

Ye Deng thought to himself: Why does Chief Minister Dou look even more pleased than our own Minister?

——

As if afraid Zhù Ying might change her mind, the Secretariat moved with swift decisiveness. By that very day, unofficial word was already spreading everywhere, and the following day it appeared in the official gazette as well.

No one who saw the announcement was surprised.

Yet a great many people, without any prior arrangement, all found themselves busying about at once. The first was Zhù Ying herself. She had to write a memorial to the Emperor: request to temporarily remain concurrently in charge of the Ministry of Finance, and at the same time recommend Yao Chenying as her successor. Looking at how Dou Peng clearly intended to make a break for it, she would need to be doing actual work the moment she entered the Secretariat — and how she would go about it also needed to be thought through clearly.

At the same time, there was a constant stream of visitors to manage, and new year plans to reorganize — in addition to her customary gatherings with fellow townspeople, friends, and old acquaintances, she now needed to add meetings with officials she had never met before, along with an expanded list of people to host at banquets and others to call upon herself.

She also made a special trip to see Chen Meng, to entrust him with something — Zhù Yan had been serving as a county magistrate in the north for some time now and, by all accounts, was doing well. Zhù Ying hoped to arrange a promotion for him, a transfer southward, to serve as an administrative aide of a prefecture or even a commandery — either would do. If the timing worked out, he might even make it to the capital to see in the new year before heading south to his new post.

Chen Meng had had both of his sons pass through Zhù Ying’s hands, so when Zhù Ying entrusted a student to him, he patted his chest and gave his word.

The Zhù household, needless to say, was preparing gifts to celebrate Zhù Ying’s new position, getting ready for the new year, and making arrangements to receive guests. Su Zhe shouldered the greater part of these duties.

The second person caught up in a flurry of activity was, surprisingly, Madam Chen. Chen Meng had made a promise and now had to follow through. With no lady of the house at the Zhù residence to preside over events, Madam Chen took charge of organizing the burnt tail banquet and similar gatherings. However capable Su Zhe might be, the Zhù household’s resources were limited, and the Chen family kitchen took on the bulk of the cooking.

Then there was Dou Peng, who made a point of seizing every opportunity to transfer the matters in his hands over to Zhù Ying.

Zhù Ying privately asked Chen Meng: “Was it the same way for you when you first entered the Secretariat?”

Chen Meng spread both hands: “You’re lucky. You caught him while he wants to retire.”

So she had become his stand-in!

Finally, with the various offices just about to seal their registers, Zhù Ying formally entered the Secretariat. The four of them arrived at a rough division of responsibilities. Even within the Secretariat, which nominally governed everything under heaven, different ministers had their areas of focus.

Dou Peng wished to transfer the work he currently held to Zhù Ying. Though his seniority was the greatest and by rights he should have carried more, a serious illness some time ago had caused him to distribute part of his workload to others. What remained in his hands was relatively manageable, which suited Zhù Ying’s status as a newcomer.

Dou Peng had it all figured out. Once his work was passed to her, Zhù Ying would still have the Ministry of Finance on top of it. In any future disputes within the Secretariat, Zhù Ying would be able to hold the balance. As Dou Peng had said, he had watched Zhù Ying for twenty years, and he had come to feel that she and Zheng Xi were not as close as people assumed.

All three of the others understood his thinking. Zhù Ying still had to ask: “And what will you be doing, then?”

Dou Peng smiled gently: “I’m old and past my usefulness. It’s time for me to retire. From here on, I leave it to the young. I’ll submit my petition after the new year. In the meantime, Zizhuang, please try things out, and come to me with any questions.”

He was a little afraid of ending up like Minister Shi Kun from years past — never quite able to leave — so he pre-empted any such outcome by stating his intentions first.

The other three offered a round of regretful words.

Dou Peng seemed rather pleased, and went home to see in the new year. That year’s New Year’s Eve watch fell to Chen Meng, and Zhù Ying would take the first day of the new year. Zhù Ying had originally wanted to take New Year’s Eve, but Chen Meng said, “Next year will be your turn, your turn — this year you came in too abruptly, and your household needs you there to anchor things.”

Zhù Ying could not fathom what one New Year’s Eve was supposed to anchor, but since it was Chen Meng’s kind intention, she accepted it graciously.

New Year’s Day morning court: the Emperor, looking upon Zhù Ying standing in new official robes at the front of the court ranks and then looking further to see the assembled worthy officials filling the hall, felt a surge of ambition rise in his chest. He thought to himself: What those before me — my imperial grandfather and father — never managed to do, what was never fully accomplished in their time — I will not let it slip by in mine!

He vowed within himself to govern this realm well and pass it down to his sons and grandsons, ten thousand years unbroken.

During the sacrificial rites, he also made a silent prayer: when the nation faces hardship, may there always be loyal and steadfast subjects, capable ministers, and valiant generals.

This new year, the Emperor felt content. The western barbarian envoys had not yet concluded their terms, sparing him the trouble of waiting for Kun Da Chi to send another envoy. Additionally, there were emissaries from other distant peoples, making for a thoroughly satisfying display of “the four outer peoples submitting in tribute.” In a kind of elation, he felt himself almost transported back to his grandfather’s era, and a confidence took hold of him — a sense that he could stand as his grandfather’s equal.

The new year brought a great many banquets — palace banquets, banquets outside the palace, banquets among those well-acquainted, banquets among those hardly acquainted at all.

The Emperor’s grand feast for all his ministers was one such occasion. His own “family banquet” was another.

At the family banquet, the Emperor’s elated mood had not yet subsided. Even looking at his eldest son — dull and blank as always — he managed to say something flattering: “The eldest is so composed and steady.” Empress Luo and the boy’s birth mother both offered their thanks.

The Emperor’s smile faded somewhat as he saw that the eldest made no response. Then his gaze moved to the third son. By comparison, this child was so much more alert and lively. The Emperor’s spirits rose again. He gestured with his hand, and the nursemaid moved to bring the child over — but the child wriggled free and tottered over to the Emperor on his own.

The Emperor was even more delighted. He reached out and lifted the boy onto his knee, and with great patience began to play with him.

This scene fell into many eyes, and various thoughts stirred. Princess Anren wavered on the edge of making a scene, but Princess Yongping moved quickly to restrain her and murmured a warning: “Don’t overplay your hand.”

Yan Gui bore a great many gazes upon her body. She worked to maintain her composure, trying to speak as little as possible, simply smiling as she watched her son — but she could not help the corners of her eyes drifting toward the new Jieyu. She and Li Cainü were among the “senior” figures; those the Emperor had taken in after ascending the throne counted as the “newcomers.” The new Jieyu came from a fine background, and she was now with child. It was impossible not to pay attention to her.

Beside her, Li Cainü sighed inwardly with regret. The daughter she had borne was still too young — this setting was hardly appropriate for the child to appear.

Empress Dowager Mu observed all of their thoughts as clearly as if laid out before her. She had no wish to spoil her son’s evening mood, so instead, after the banquet dispersed, she sent word to the Emperor through an attendant. The Emperor had been about to retire for the night; hearing the message, he hurried at once to the Empress Dowager’s chambers.

The Empress Dowager had removed her formal attire. A palace maid was massaging her shoulders, and another was kneeling on the ground working at her legs. The Empress Dowager said, “You’ve come. Sit.”

The Emperor asked, “Mother, is something — are you unwell?”

“When you get to my age, exertion takes a toll.”

“Then…”

The Empress Dowager said, “You were holding the third son the whole time and ignoring the eldest. That’s not quite right.”

The Emperor frowned and said, “He has his nursemaids. Would you have me wipe his nose?”

“Son, love whichever one you prefer — but the eldest is the firstborn, and he is being raised by the Empress. You may not favor him, but don’t make things difficult for them. Or else, don’t hold any of them for now. When you have more children later, can you really manage to carry on this way with every single one? Besides, for a man, it isn’t done to be always tending to children.” The Empress Dowager spoke with sincere weight. If the eldest was unsuitable, why bother with the third son either? She would far rather have the newer arrivals fill the palace with new life.

The Emperor’s good spirits dimmed by half. He said with mild resentment: “Very well, when there’s a better child later on, I’ll hold that one too.”

The Empress Dowager said, “The eldest has also reached the age where he ought to have tutors. With proper teaching, he will come along well. Once he’s grown, you won’t be able to hold him even if you wanted to.”

The Emperor only heard the first half of that. He answered vaguely: “I’ll discuss the matter of tutors with the Chief Ministers.” And then: “I won’t keep disturbing you, Mother — please rest.”

……

When the Empress Dowager said “reached the age,” she was speaking approximately. In truth, the eldest could afford to wait another two or three years without being particularly late, and the third son had only just begun to learn his characters. But the Emperor took it to heart. Alas, it was still the holiday period, so he could only summon the duty-attending Zhù Ying before him to ask her opinion first.

Zhù Ying had no particular sense of what age was appropriate for a child to begin school — there were early starters and late starters alike. In any case, a prince could have ten or twenty tutors assigned to watch over him individually. She saw no grounds for objection: “That children can study is a good thing. Just choose the right tutors. The Son of Heaven commands the wealth of all under heaven — learned scholars are not in short supply. But character must be sound. A pity about Yang Jing.”

The Emperor also sighed regretfully: “His pride was simply too fierce.”

“Without that pride, he would never have achieved what he did,” Zhù Ying said.

The Emperor then said, “The eldest and the third son are different in aptitude — all in all, the third son is the stronger of the two.”

Zhù Ying looked at the Emperor with careful attention and asked, “What exactly does Your Majesty mean by that? There is talk among the people that Your Majesty favors the younger son, and that there is a suggestion of setting aside the elder for the younger. Is that the case?”

“Where is this talk coming from?” the Emperor said in surprise. “They’re all still so young. What is the rush? What is everyone thinking? I simply find the third son charming. Besides, even if an heir is to be established, it must be based on observation of their virtues and abilities!”

On this topic he had a great deal of grievance to express. “I am the Son of Heaven! How can I allow a halfwit to ruin the realm I leave behind? How did he — how did he end up this way? Is there anything wrong with me placing greater importance on the third son?”

The Emperor wanted everything to be of the finest — including his children.

“The next one will be even better,” Zhù Ying said, and with that, ended the conversation.

At this point, Zhù Ying finally came to understand why the principle of “establishing the eldest as legitimate heir” existed, and why “establishing the most virtuous” was, in practice, utter nonsense — especially while the imperial sons were still so young. Setting aside the fact that even princes were not immune to childhood deaths, consider just this matter of “virtue”: being able to recite a few lines of classical verse at this age counted as “virtuous” — so what of the next one, who was not yet one year old and had already begun to speak? Would that count as a prodigy? Would the Emperor swap again?

It was not as though he were seventy or eighty years old — what was there to compare? Did he plan to have no more children?

The Emperor seemed to sense that he had shown some loss of composure. He muttered and tried to explain himself: “The Empress Dowager has also taken me to task — telling me not to show favoritism, that I haven’t shortchanged either of them. The eldest is simply not up to the responsibilities that come with it. He cannot be made to be what he is not — there’s no point in forcing him. Surely you don’t all want a repeat of Emperor Hui of the Jin dynasty on the throne?”

Zhù Ying listened patiently to his complaints, and did not lecture him with talk of “the Son of Heaven has no private matters” or “one must not let personal affection override public duty.” When he had talked himself out at last, she said, “Let them study first and observe over time. There are as many kinds of people as there are, and some are precocious while others are late to blossom. Your Majesty bears the weight of the realm on your shoulders — there will always be those who try to divine the imperial intentions. Whatever words may circulate outside, I ask Your Majesty to laugh them off.”

The Emperor said, “How hard it is to be a ruler!”

“It is.”

“As for court matters — what are your thoughts?”

Zhù Ying said, “I have only just gotten my hands on the edges of the Secretariat. I would not dare speak rashly at this point.”

“How is it rashness? You’ve been reading things clearly enough all along. The household register tallies from the Ministry of Finance have come in again — when can I expect to see a proposal? What is your plan?”

Zhù Ying said, “I will do my best to make thorough plans for Your Majesty. Allow me a little more time to think things through carefully. It is also difficult to move forward with the next steps until you approve Yao Chenying to head the Ministry of Finance.”

“Must it be him?”

“He is capable, and not given to extremes. He will not come and immediately start feuding with everyone around him.”

The other reasons Zhù Ying had already laid out in her memorial. The Emperor had been noncommittal until now. At these words, he finally nodded: “Very well.”

Zhù Ying felt a weight lift from her. Seeing that the Emperor’s mood had improved, she seized the moment to take her leave: “The night is late — please rest, Your Majesty. These past several days of holiday have been no lighter than morning court.”

The Emperor said with a wry smile, “Who could say otherwise?”

……

The following day, Zhù Ying took over the duty watch from Xian Jing. She and Xian Jing had grown gradually unable to have deep conversations, and the two quietly completed the handover. Zhù Ying said to Xian Jing as they concluded, “The Emperor raised the matter of the imperial sons’ education yesterday. Please do bear it in mind.”

“Does the Emperor have anyone particular in mind?”

Zhù Ying shook her head: “Nothing was said.”

“Understood.”

Zhù Ying left the palace, returned home to rest briefly, and then brought Zhù Yan and Su Zhe to call upon the Zheng family. The Zheng household, though in a period of mourning, still received a fair number of friends and family visitors. Zheng Xia had also come with her husband.

The second day of the new year was, by capital custom, the day married daughters returned to visit their parental home. For someone like Yue Miaojun, who now had a son-in-law of her own, returning to her parents’ home was no longer possible — she instead became the presiding mistress of her own household.

When word reached the household that she had arrived, a servant flew off to report. Zheng Xi came out in person, laughing as he said, “And here you are at last! I said you would come.”

Zhù Ying laughed: “How could I not?”

Zheng Xi invited her inside and made to share the seat of honor with her. Zhù Ying tried to decline; Zheng Xia and her husband both said, “Do sit, do sit.”

Zheng Xi laughed and asked, “How does it feel to be on duty at the Secretariat?”

Zhù Ying said, “The room is a bit larger than at the Ministry of Finance.”

The whole room broke into warm laughter.

They were all familiar faces by now. Everyone offered their congratulations, and Zhù Ying thanked them. As they were rising to go to the table, she seemed to mention something to Zheng Xi almost in passing, and lowered her voice to speak of two matters: the imperial sons were to begin their studies, and the Emperor had approved Yao Chenying to head the Ministry of Finance.

Zheng Xi said, “I knew you would not disappoint me.”

“That’s not something I can guarantee.”

Zheng Xi was unconcerned.

After that, no further matters of particular significance were discussed. The visit continued, and then Zhù Ying followed her schedule through the rest of the holiday, and then formally set to work at the Secretariat.

Chen Meng and Xian Jing each had their own affairs. Dou Peng took Zhù Ying under his guidance and continued to explain various matters. Just as when Zhù Ying had transferred from Wuzhou to the Ministry of Finance, moving from the Ministry of Finance to the Secretariat brought a sudden, staggering increase in the scope of business to be managed. Though each Chief Minister had areas of focus, general matters still had to be circulated among all of them. Everyone who had ever risen to the level of Chief Minister worked from before dawn to well past dark.

Zhù Ying did not find it a hardship, but was still quite curious, and asked Dou Peng: “Why are you in such a hurry to retire?” If Minister Chen Luan had retired because he had served too long and the emperor above him was difficult to get along with, and if Minister Shi Kun had retired because he too had served for a long time and an aging emperor had wished to see the old minister return home — Dou Peng was not, in truth, as old as either of them had been at their retirement.

Why, then, step down?

Dou Peng said, “Who doesn’t know that power and influence are sweet? Emperors chase immortality, and Chief Ministers would sooner die in office than leave. But I am simply too exhausted. Although Zheng Xi is on mourning leave, his network and influence remain — you know this well. I am a man of middling gifts. The struggle between Zheng and Xian — these old bones of mine can no longer hold the balance. But you — you are about to inherit exactly this situation! Guard yourself well. The Emperor places great hopes in you. You must forge ahead with all your strength. At heart, one must hold to what is right and just.”

Zhù Ying said, “That goes without saying.”

Zhù Ying’s word was considered unimpeachable, and Dou Peng, taking her at her word, felt entirely at ease. There was only one remaining matter to attend to before his retirement — the question of who would tutor the imperial sons.

All told, there were two children, both very young, not yet having learned all their characters. And yet the best scholars in the entire realm had to be sought out for them. Xian Jing had candidates to recommend; Chen Meng had his own, and he brought up Yang Jing. Dou Peng could only be grateful that Zheng Xi was absent from all this — otherwise there would have been yet another dispute.

Dou Peng served as mediator one final time, putting forward an alternative proposal — Yue Huan.

Yue Huan’s seniority was greater than Yang Jing’s. He came from a scholarly lineage, and by reckoning, Yang Jing was in fact a grand-student of Yue Huan’s grandfather’s discipline, while Yue Huan’s own lineage was more “orthodox” by bloodline.

Beyond Yue Huan, the Emperor also agreed to several of the candidates Xian Jing proposed. The two children were given one principal tutor and four associate tutors — five in total. At the same time, suitable young men from noble and senior official families were selected to enter the palace and study alongside the princes.

The Chief Ministers tacitly refrained from using the term “Eastern Palace,” and Yue Huan and the others were considered to be serving as tutors in a “concurrent” capacity — just as Minister Chen Luan had once concurrently taught the imperial sons while also drawing in Zheng Xi.

But the formal bow of discipleship still had to be performed. And because of this, Su Zhe acquired a new assignment. Though the imperial sons were male, they were young children, and children were not easily managed. Yue Huan passed the matter along to Su Zhe.

From managing women to managing children — Su Zhe, surprisingly, felt less anxious about it. Now that Zhù Ying was in the Secretariat, there was far more room to maneuver when it came to arranging a different position for Su Zhe or sending her south to return home.

Su Zhe accepted the task Yue Huan assigned her without resistance, and went back to the inner palace to teach the two children — since they were so young, matters of ritual and decorum were to be learned in the Empress’s quarters.

This was not a particularly large or small matter, and Zhù Ying did not give it much thought. She did have other arrangements in mind for Su Zhe, and seeing that Su Zhe was managing to stay steady, she felt a quiet sense of approval.

But then, several days later, one evening, it was none other than Lan De who arrived at the gate — and he had come on account of Su Zhe!

……

By this time it was already the end of the first month. Zhù Ying had cleared her evening that night for everyone to see off Zhù Yan. The auspicious day for departure had been selected as the following day, but Zhù Ying clearly could not free herself during the daytime, so everyone gathered for the occasion in the evening.

Zhù Yan and his good friend Xiang Yu, reunited again after months apart, were finding it hard to say farewell. The banquet was in the process of being laid out when Lu Danqing asked, “Where’s Little Sister?”

The gatekeeper came to report: “The palace’s Chief Eunuch Lan has come with our First Young Official Su. Her expression doesn’t look too good.” Ever since Su Sheng had arrived, to distinguish between the two, the household referred to them as First Young Official Su and Second Young Official Su.

The one who had returned was Su Zhe.

Zhù Ying said, “Take them to the small flower chamber.”