From CEO to Concubine-Chapter 126: War of Words
The main benefit to having two prime ministers instead of power consolidated in just a single subject right at the top was one that every emperor, should he wish to retain hold on his political advantage, quickly learnt to reap.
Balance.
The imperial court might be a game of chess for everyone else involved, be it the civil officials or military generals or even the concubines who used their arsenal of charms to help their families gain an edge over their rival factions.
On the surface, it would appear that the emperor was just like any other player of the game, mired deep inside the endless strategies and relentless planning as many moves ahead as he needed to be to keep himself seated on the dragon throne. But one of the first lessons Grand Preceptor Du Yi had taught Liu Yao when he’d first become teacher to the young crown prince, was that a good emperor didn’t participate; he made up the rules instead.
Not only did he make up the rules, he had to do so subtly, insidiously, such that no one, not even those most loyal to him in court, would know that in reality, there was no game, just a script for a play that he wanted them to follow through.
And one of the best ways to achieve this was balance. Which was why Left Prime Minister Zhao had been assigned to hold the fort back in the sweltering imperial city whilst Right Prime Minister Ren now stood at the forefront of the reduced morning court, mild and unassuming as the officials behind him led the charge against their liege.
Xiande Hall in the imperial villa was located amidst the cool shade of gnarled pine trees. Unlike the majestic splendour of Weiyang Hall back in the imperial city, which was designed to reflect the imposing dignity of the status of the emperor, Xiande Hall’s unique feature was the rows and rows of windows that lined its length, allowing for a soothing breeze to blow in and alleviate some of the heat that arose as the result of the terse discussions that often occurred during morning court.
Or they would, if Emperor Xuanjun were less unimpressed with some of the architectural decisions that went into the construction of this building. Two long rows of windows, all the better to have a comfortable court session with? What had his father been thinking?
Oh, but of course. The late emperor wasn’t particularly renowned for his ability to think. Otherwise, he would have realised just how foolish it was to expose himself to a glaring assassination risk, even parking himself in one fixed spot like a sitting target for a well-aimed arrow or dagger. It was a surprise no one had attempted to end the late emperor’s life here; he hadn’t been very popular as a monarch. But he hadn’t been much of a threat either.
Liu Yao wasn’t popular either. But he most definitely has been a thorn in the sides of many. Hence, those windows remained firmly shut despite the stuffiness within. If the imperial villa hadn’t been built in the mountains, which remained blessedly cool even in the hottest months of the year, no doubt some of the older officials would have started to faint right about now.
A pity that they hadn’t. Liu Yao was done with listening to the same pointless entreaties time and again.
"Select an empress, beget an heir, appoint a grand protector to command the Yulin Army." Liu Yao chuckled. "This sovereign’s kingdom is faring so well at the moment that my beloved subjects have nothing better to do but turn their eye on my inner palace, is that what’s going on?"
"This subject wouldn’t dare to interfere in Your Majesty’s personal affairs b-but an empress is the mother of the land, an heir concerns the stability of the dynasty, and the good governance of the Yulin Army is a direct reflection of Your Majesty’s safety. Please forgive this subject’s directness! Your Majesty, we only have your best interests at heart!"
The official who spoke up was a familiar face. Liu Yao’s smile widened imperceptibly.
This sovereign has yet to run you through and yet you’ve chosen to impale yourself upon the sword first.
Underneath the weight of his emperor’s scrutiny, Minister of Rites Wu’s robes quickly became soaked with sweat. He was close enough to the front that Liu Yao could see beads of perspiration trickling down the sides of his face.
After the fiasco with the imperial examinations, everyone had expected Liu Yao to seize the opportunity to move against the Wu Household as well; it was no secret that the emperor wished to weaken the hold the old noble clans had on the court. Although the Wu Household was nothing compared to their counterparts, having lost most of its former glory in the hands of an ineffectual clan head, they were still a representation of everything that the emperor disliked, namely the shackles that the aristocracy had wrapped around the dragon throne.
But they were wrong. Not only did Liu Yao not touch the Wu Household, he hadn’t even stripped Minister of Rites Wu of his position in court. The honours of the ministerial post, just beneath the Grand Secretariat in power, had not been taken away.
Liu Yao knew that many members of his court speculated that this leniency was forced, brought on by his broken sleeves tendencies. They believed that despite the mistakes that the fourth prince might have made, Liu Wei was still Liu Yao’s favoured candidate for an heir and hence Liu Yao had no choice but to protect the fourth prince’s dignity and the fourth prince’s political camp, of which Minister of Rites Wu was now clearly a part of. Hence, ex-Grand Protector Li and his unfortunate daughter had taken the fall for everyone and idiots like Minister of Rites Wu were lucky to have chosen the right master and gotten away with little more than a slap on the wrist and a fine of his salary for being ’unconscientious in his duties’.
They could think as they wished. All Liu Yao knew was that having an incompetent fool as Minister of Rites was easier to manipulate than allowing the other old noble clans to push one of their smarter pawns into that position.
Balance. It was exhausting but crucial. It meant that even in the face of such abject stupidity, Liu Yao sometimes had no choice but to turn a blind eye. After all, it would be idiocy to replace the enemy he knew with one lurking in the shadows. Until Liu Yao was certain he could promote someone loyal to him to that position, Wu Shengqi and all his inadequacies would have to suffice.
But whether the career of his son, Wu Bin, would progress as smoothly as the capital had once anticipated...well, that was a different story altogether.
There was no throne in Xiande Hall, just an elevated dais upon which a low table was placed. Liu Yao was seated flanked on both sides by cushioned armrests but he’d been raised by his tutors—most notably his stern grand tutor, Lu Yang—to always present himself with decorum in front of his subjects. Even on the dragon throne, he was to sit with his back straight, never touching the backrest, his feet placed flat on the ground. He was to remain equidistant from the armrests at all times, never relying on them to carry his weight for him; an emperor had to be strong enough to shoulder the burdens of his country himself.
If Grand Tutor Lu were here, he might even be throwing up blood onto the carpeting, Liu Yao thought to himself before slouching quite deliberately onto the armrest on the right.
"This sovereign thinks that we all have some misconceptions on the role of the grand protector," he drawled slowly, lackadaisically. "Traditionally, the roles of grand preceptor, grand protector, and grand tutor stemmed from the roles of grand preceptor of the crown prince, grand protector of the crown prince, and grand tutor of the crown prince." The difference might sound minimal but it was there, not just in rank but also in job scope.
He propped his chin up on his knuckles and regarded his officials coolly. "The last grand protector schooled this sovereign in martial arts and military strategy when this sovereign was the crown prince. When this sovereign ascended to the throne, as a show of gratitude, he was granted an elevation of his rank and served as this sovereign’s adviser and guardian. Despite that, he took advantage of this sovereign’s trust and failed to serve in the capacity of either role." He leaned forward slightly. "Who else then, in this court, does my beloved officials think is worthy of being called this sovereign’s teacher? This sovereign is listening. Nominate him, since you all so dearly enjoy weighing in on my Grand Secretariat."
As anticipated, he was met with silence. After his execution of the ex-grand protector, the civil officials in court had rebuked his decision despairingly, all but calling him a tyrant to his face for breaching his duty of filial piety, owed to an elder who had instructed him in his youth.
Naturally, they couldn’t turn around and insist that the grand protector wasn’t a teaching role anymore. And no one else had had the opportunity to serve as an imperial tutor apart from Du Yi and Lu Yang, both of whom already held positions in court.
"Until this sovereign appoints an heir," Liu Yao declared, "the role of grand protector shall remain unfilled." He raised a hand to stem the token rumble of protest. "This sovereign’s mind is made up. As for the commander of the Yulin Army, this sovereign will make other arrangements."
Yes, he fully intended to weaken the powers of the grand protector and put himself back in charge of his own safety. Ex-Grand Protector Li’s attempted rebellion gave him the best excuse to do so. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚
"Y-Your Majesty," Minister of Rites Wu stammered. Liu Yao’s sharp gaze didn’t miss the flicker of panic on his ashen face. He wondered who this useless puppet was being controlled by now. Was it still his dear little brother? Despite their mother’s incessant attempts to end it, Liu Wei’s temporary hiatus from court was still ongoing.
"Does Minister of Rites Wu have something else to add?"
"Your Majesty is indeed wise," Minister of Rites Wu said, dropping shakily onto his knees to prostrate himself. "This subject humbly asks Your Majesty to consider the matter of an heir seriously!"
"Consider it considered," Liu Yao said dismissively. "Unless...Minister of Rites Wu is suggesting that this sovereign is so old and decrepit as to require a replacement so soon?"
He didn’t alter his tone, kept it nice and light, but it was enough to send a shudder down Minister of Rites Wu’s spine.
"This subject has spoken out of turn! Your Majesty is young and will live for another ten thousand years, this subject—"
Liu Yao tuned his blabbering out. His eyes swept over the rest of his court, taking in the unease, discontent, and worry before finally coming to rest on Right Prime Minister Ren.
The Ren family and their clan head, Ren Hao. A long time ago, when he’d still been a naive child, he’d once believed that this distant relative of his, linked by blood only through the marriage of his mother’s sister, was going to protect him. He’d once called this man yizhang (1), uncle, and had derived strength from this tenuous relationship, thinking that it didn’t matter whether his father loved him or not because he had other family who did.
What a laughable mistake. No matter how favoured a chess piece was, no one would bother loving them.
Right Prime Minister Ren seemed to sense Liu Yao’s attention. He bowed in acquiescence to Liu Yao’s decision. "Your Majesty knows best what is necessary for the protection of the imperial palace," he said simply. "This old subject has nothing more to say on that matter. As for the other matters that have been brought up today, Your Majesty does indeed have a point; you are still young and will rule for many years yet. Your subjects are old and have grown tiresome with our nagging."
Just a handful of sentences and the tension dissipated but not in a way that was pleasing to Liu Yao. No doubt, it sounded like the right prime minister was leading the court in conceding to Liu Yao but at the same time, he managed to secure the moral high ground by making Liu Yao’s firm resistance to the pressure sound like the stubbornness of an unreasonable child.
And also, Liu Yao had to consider; was this Right Prime Minister Ren’s way of ending the argument today because he sensed that there was little point in dragging it out? Or was he suddenly singing a different tune because he’d decided that instead of forcing Liu Yao to appoint an empress and beget an heir that he would be able to control, it was more convenient just to choose one of the remaining princes, already born to the late emperor, and hedge his bets on them instead? Would it be the fourth prince Liu Wei or the sixth prince Liu Jin...
Or even someone younger? More gullible?
The light of dawn had barely broken on the horizon and already a lingering weariness had seeped into Liu Yao’s bones. He thought about the soft silks of his bed, of the lithe figure curled up on its side like a cocoon, the liveliness of his Ah Yun’s innocent features mellowing out into a soothing repose in slumber.
No wonder, he thought wryly, tyrants hated attending court.
