The Blood Crown - Chapter 139

Chapter 139

During the New Year period, Yan Sikong barely had a moment to rest, spending most of his time exchanging New Year’s greetings and making visits.

He managed to find time to reply to Shen Hexuan’s letter—the letter he had just received before the New Year. In the letter, Shen Hexuan first talked about his affairs in the local region, lamented the inaction of certain officials, and expressed his ambitions. He then thanked Yan Sikong for taking care of his wife and children, subtly implying that the family letters seemed to report only good news, leaving him uncertain whether his wife was withholding any worries.

Yan Sikong found this amusing. He guessed that Shen Hexuan must have racked his brains to use the most concise words to downplay his longing and concern for his wife and children, which must have been difficult for someone as disciplined and strict as Shen Hexuan, who always kept public and private matters separate.

Shen Hexuan could have brought his wife and child with him to his post, but his young son was still in swaddling clothes, too fragile to endure the hardships of travel. After careful consideration, he decided to leave them in the capital. Yan Sikong thought this was a very wise decision; even in the capital, the family lived in poverty, so why take them far away to suffer in the provinces?

In his reply, Yan Sikong, as usual, comforted and praised him, saying that Yan Zilian and their colleagues missed him greatly and that the Emperor also had high expectations for him. He then mentioned the recent happenings at Shen’s residence, assuring him that everything was well.

As for Shen’s wife and child, it was common to give them some food and clothing as gifts. Whenever there was work at the Shen residence, Yan’s household would send servants to help.

Yan Sikong knew that Shen’s wife was a woman who appeared gentle but was strong-willed, otherwise, she wouldn’t be so compatible with Shen Hexuan. Therefore, he never visited the Shen residence in person, to avoid damaging her reputation. He was also particular about how he sent gifts. He typically sent prepared meals and snacks rather than directly giving rice, flour, or meat. He would have the household’s embroiderers send a few pieces of hand-sewn children’s clothing and shoes every now and then, claiming they were practice pieces for the future little master.

Madam Shen, who was intelligent and graceful, would occasionally help the servants with their letters or brushwork as a token of thanks. Since Shen Hexuan left the capital, Yan Sikong believed he had taken good care of her and her child.

He wanted Shen Hexuan to owe him this favour. This man, an exceptional talent with a difficult personality, had not been won over by anyone, and had even made some enemies. Only Yan Sikong, by consistently maintaining a humble and respectful stance, had managed to befriend Shen Hexuan.

He envisioned that one day, when Chen Mu ascended to the throne, Shen Hexuan would be a great asset in governing the country, though under Yan Sikong’s control, of course.

—

The seven-day New Year holiday passed in the blink of an eye. According to the laws of Dasheng, officials usually get a day off every five days, with only the New Year allowing for a consecutive seven-day break. However, these seven days are often more exhausting than being on duty, as the customs of exchanging gifts and paying visits not only cost a considerable amount of money but also leave one physically and mentally drained.

For Yan Sikong and others, these seven days were particularly torturous because they knew that Xie Zhongren would not have been idle during this time.

Soon, news reached them that the investigation into Feng Jianping had officially begun, focusing solely on him. Feng Jianping first needed to “submit a report” before being “summoned.” The report involved answering and elaborating on questions provided by the Ministry of Personnel, mostly related to his political achievements. Every word of the report was to be recorded and submitted to the Cabinet and the Emperor, who would then personally summon him, provide guidance, and address key concerns.

When Feng Jianping’s completed report reached the Cabinet, Yan Zilian would notice discrepancies between the report and the version that had been reviewed beforehand. Liu An would never dare to alter the report himself, so such a move must have been authorized by the Emperor.

In the career of every Grand Secretary of the Cabinet, it is inevitable to encounter a few instances where the Emperor bypasses the Cabinet to issue orders. Although this is against the law, the Emperor himself is the law, so nothing can be done about it. The Emperor is aware of the consequences of abusing his power, which can lead to negative outcomes, so he is cautious. If the matter is minor, the Cabinet would typically turn a blind eye; otherwise, it might provoke resistance from the officials, as seen in the past disputes over the succession of the Crown Prince, where the choice between the eldest son and the favourite son sparked significant controversy.

In this case, it should be considered the former; even if Yan Zilian found it inappropriate, he would have discussed it with the Emperor privately.

Therefore, when Yan Zilian sternly impeached Liu An during the morning court session, not only was Xie Zhongren shocked, but even Emperor Zhaowu was momentarily at a loss. Yan Zilian’s actions were a public accusation of the Emperor’s abuse of power—although not a single word was directed at Emperor Zhaowu, everyone in court knew what was happening.

What was surprising about this situation was that, although everyone knew Emperor Zhaowu was in the wrong, for Yan Zilian to publicly expose this during the morning court, disregarding the Emperor’s dignity, was entirely out of character for a seasoned Grand Secretary with over forty years of experience. This was akin to digging his own grave. Moreover, there was no past conflict between Liu An and Yan Zilian, and Liu An was not part of the eunuch faction, making Yan Zilian’s sudden hostility seem excessively cold-hearted, which was not in line with his usual conduct.

Yan Zilian then produced the draft resolutions from the Cabinet and the documents approved by Emperor Zhaowu, proving that Feng Jianping’s report had been tampered with. He accused Liu An of exploiting his position for personal gain, being outrageously audacious, and deliberately making things difficult for a meritorious general with falsified information, an act punishable by death according to the law.

Liu An, terrified, prostrated himself on the ground. He couldn’t defend himself, so he weakly begged Emperor Zhaowu to “investigate thoroughly.” He couldn’t refute Yan Zilian’s accusations, but he also didn’t dare implicate Xie Zhongren. If Emperor Zhaowu decided to make him the scapegoat, he might only lose his position out of the Emperor’s guilt, but if he spoke out of turn, he might lose his life.

Yan Sikong heard that Emperor Zhaowu was extremely humiliated that day. Faced with the criticism from Yan Zilian and other officials, he had no choice but to order Liu An’s imprisonment and promised to “thoroughly investigate the matter.”

Although the situation was unfolding according to Yan Zilian’s plan, Yan Sikong grew increasingly worried. If the struggle over the succession had already made Emperor Zhaowu dissatisfied with Yan Zilian, this incident completely ruined their relationship. Not only did Yan Zilian cause the Emperor to lose face, but he also made it clear that he was firmly protecting Feng Jianping, which was tantamount to burning his bridges.

Even if they succeeded in removing Liu An and reclaiming some ground, as long as Emperor Zhaowu remained intent on weakening Datong’s power, this bloodless struggle was far from over.

There was no mystery to this case; the evidence against Liu An was clear. Disheartened, Liu An quickly confessed that he had made a mistake in handling the report.

This absurd and laughable excuse was nevertheless accepted from the top down, as no one cared how exactly he “made a mistake.” Emperor Zhaowu stripped him of his position and sent him back home to farm.

On a warm, sunny day with the spring snow melting, the Minister of Personnel, who had served for four years with neither merit nor fault, left the capital with his family in desolation.

Since last year’s investigation had already dismissed three officials from the Ministry of Personnel, the department was short-staffed. With Liu An’s departure, the Left Vice Minister immediately took over, and Yan Sikong was promoted as expected, becoming a Langzhong of the fifth rank.

It seemed like Yan Zilian had won a round, but in the court, Emperor Zhaowu’s attitude towards him had noticeably changed. In the following month, half of the memorials submitted by the Cabinet were rejected. Yan Zilian became even more cautious, fully aware that if he made a mistake now, it would be impossible to recover.

Feng Jianping also completed his assessment using the original report. Even if Emperor Zhaowu tried to make things difficult for him, the only issues that surfaced were minor ones, not enough to justify a large-scale military reduction.

However, the matter of reducing Datong’s military strength was once again shelved, though Feng Jianping had already twice petitioned to return to Datong to reorganize military affairs, both times being rejected.

Earlier, the excuse of the capital inspection was used to delay matters, but now that it has passed, if Feng Jianping petitions to return to Datong again, the only event that could possibly delay it further would be the wedding between Yan Sikong and Princess Wanyang. However, Emperor Zhaowu has yet to announce the wedding date. Although it was mentioned when the Empress Dowager passed away that Wanyang, being of marriageable age, did not need to observe three years of mourning, it would still be too unfilial not to observe even one year. With half a year left until autumn, it would be a stretch to proceed earlier.

As it happens, the spring hunt is approaching, and Feng Jianping anticipated that Emperor Zhaowu would certainly have him participate, so he temporarily refrained from requesting to return to Datong.

The capital quieted down for a while, but Yan Sikong remained on high alert.

One day, while heading to the palace to meet the Crown Prince, Yan Sikong was hesitant, debating whether to involve Chen Mu more deeply in their scheme. This game of chess was certainly not over, but for now, all the pieces were in place without movement. He had not given up on his plan to pressure the emperor into abdicating, but at the moment, the conditions were not ripe. Telling Chen Mu prematurely could backfire.

After much deliberation, he decided to proceed as usual, focusing on teaching, and subtly guiding Chen Mu on the true arts of kingship.

By coincidence, he once again encountered Zhu Lanting. With the spring hunt approaching, Chen Mu, as the Crown Prince, could not afford to lose to the other princes.

Zhu Lanting spotted Yan Sikong from a distance and kept staring at him, with a slightly different look in his eyes than usual.

Yan Sikong, being sensitive, noticed this, but that probing gaze quickly disappeared, making him doubt whether he had seen it correctly.

As usual, the two exchanged polite but distant greetings. Yan Sikong courteously said, “Commander Zhu has been busy with official duties lately, yet still comes early to instruct His Highness in martial arts. You must be working hard.”

It was said that a few days ago, a bold drunkard had relieved himself on the palace wall, becoming a laughingstock in the capital. This incident was attributed to the negligence of the guards on duty, causing Zhu Lanting to lose face and deploy more personnel for night patrols, making him undoubtedly quite busy.

Zhu Lanting responded with a polite phrase about merely doing his duty.

The two were never close, and their interactions usually ended there. Yan Sikong was about to go inside with Chen Mu to study when Zhu Lanting called out to him again.

“Lord Yan.”

Yan Sikong turned around.

“I heard… that you had a conflict with the Heir of Jingyuan.”

Yan Sikong raised an eyebrow, even Chen Mu showed a hint of surprise. After all, Zhu Lanting was not someone who indulged in idle gossip. Yan Sikong cautiously replied, “It was just a minor misunderstanding. I wonder what advice Commander Zhu has?”

Zhu Lanting stared directly at Yan Sikong with his clear, sharp eyes and calmly said, “I just wanted to remind Lord Yan that if that’s the case, it would be best to stay away from the Heir during the Spring Hunt. After all, the hunting ground can be chaotic, and it’s easy for someone to take advantage of the confusion.”

Yan Sikong was momentarily stunned, then quickly smiled and said, “Thank you for the reminder, Commander Zhu, but I’m just a scholar who would only watch from afar. How could I possibly be in the hunting ground? The Heir’s arrows and horse hooves won’t reach me. Besides, it wouldn’t be right to speculate about the Heir with malice, haha.”

Zhu Lanting squinted his eyes, “Lord Yan truly has no desire to stretch your muscles on the hunting ground? That would be a pity.”

Yan Sikong’s heart skipped a beat. He realized that Zhu Lanting had seen through his martial skills.

Someone with a solid foundation in martial arts, if experienced enough, can discern from others’ movements whether they’ve trained. The less skilled someone is, the less they can hide it. For women, training often changes their physique more noticeably than it does for men, making it harder to conceal, like Ye Li. Yan Sikong had practiced certain movements many times to disguise himself and would often stand respectfully or bow when meeting Zhu Lanting. Yet, he still hadn’t escaped the keen eyes of the top martial artist in the inner court.

Chen Mu, not understanding the situation, said, “Commander Zhu must be overthinking. But I’ll still have someone keep an eye on the teacher.”

“That would be for the best,” Zhu Lanting said as he bowed and took his leave.

Yan Sikong’s face turned slightly pale. He guessed that Zhu Lanting hadn’t just realized this today. Perhaps he had noticed from their very first meeting, yet had never shown any sign of it until now. Why did he suddenly bring it up today? What was his intention?

“Teacher?” Chen Mu waved a hand in front of Yan Sikong’s eyes, “Are you really afraid?”

Yan Sikong snapped out of it and smiled, “How could I be?”

Chen Mu seriously said, “You don’t need to be afraid. I will protect you.”

“Thank you, Your Highness, but there’s really no need to worry.”

Chen Mu thought for a moment, “Come, let’s talk inside.”

The two went inside, and as usual, Chen Mu dismissed everyone else. He asked, somewhat puzzled, “What did Commander Zhu mean just now? Why would he suggest you stretch your muscles on the hunting ground?”

“Perhaps… he wanted me to go horseback riding.”

“How is your riding skill?”

“Decent.”

“If you really want to have some fun, come with me. Stay by my side, and Feng Ye wouldn’t dare make a move.”

Yan Sikong smiled, “It’s so cold. I’d much rather stay in the tent.”

Chen Mu also laughed, “Teacher, you shouldn’t spend all day cooped up reading. You need to move around more. I think you should stay with me during the Spring Hunt. I didn’t think much of it at first, but after what Commander Zhu said, I’m starting to feel uneasy. The hunting ground can be chaotic, and if Feng Ye really wanted to cause trouble, what would we do? No, you must stay by my side.”

Yan Sikong, though reluctant, couldn’t refuse, so he had to say, “I’ll do as Your Highness wishes.”

Chen Mu, pleased, grabbed Yan Sikong’s hand and said arrogantly, “Then I’ll have to show you my archery skills. Feng Ye may be able to draw a two-stone bow, but I’m no slouch.”

Yan Sikong smiled and said, “With Your Highness being so brave, you’ll surely come out on top in the Spring Hunt.”

Chen Mu gazed at Yan Sikong, his eyes shining with a strange light.