A brutal battle raged through the night, and the Grand Chancellor’s Mansion was nearly razed to the ground—only a few side buildings survived by sheer luck.
Scattered limbs and broken arms lay everywhere, blood had frozen into patches of icy red, and in some places, lingering fires still flared up now and then.
The flickering flames and billowing black smoke made it utterly impossible to host any gatherings here.
After leaving the imperial city, Zhu Chong and the others moved with perfect unspoken understanding.
They bypassed the ruined Grand Chancellor’s Mansion gate and headed straight to the Ministry of Rites next door, which had remained untouched by last night’s chaos, still standing intact and pristine.
Inside a spacious, lofty hall decorated with graceful and elegant simplicity, Zhu Chong and his companions took their seats according to their official ranks.
Soon, delicate tea and fine snacks were served.
Bai Changkong sat with a sullen expression, saying nothing after taking his seat.
His gloomy face was a sign of his attitude—he had taken a severe loss at today’s grand court assembly.
Thanks to the “friendly assistance” of the Grand General Le Wu, it was now common knowledge across the land that Lu Qian—the very man betrothed to Bai Changkong’s granddaughter—had fallen from grace and joined the eunuch faction.
This scandal severely damaged the Bai family’s reputation and tarnished Bai Changkong’s own standing.
Though Bai Changkong had tried to patch things up in the public eye with tricks like sending the Twelve Worthies to propose marriage, those ploys only fooled the unappreciative common folk.
Among the shrewd, seasoned scholars and peers inside the literary education faction, such tricks were worthless.
Everyone understood plainly that Lu Qian’s actions were a huge slap in the face, leaving Bai Changkong utterly humiliated.
So at the court assembly, Bai Changkong had mobilized many of his disciples and their gathered followers and lackeys, all aiming to strike a blow at Lu Qian.
Even if they couldn’t completely block Lu Qian’s ennoblement, they at least wanted to reduce his rank by two or three grades.
Only then could Bai Changkong’s will be demonstrated.
Only then could he attempt to salvage his damaged honor and reputation—the visible and invisible losses he had suffered.
Otherwise, how could he, Bai Changkong, save face when a wayward scion, who had broken off the marriage with the Bai family and joined the eunuch faction, rose so quickly in official rank, made fortune, won merits, and received a noble title all in such a short time? Where was his dignity? Where was the Bai family’s prestige?
Some would even think, “Oh, Lu Qian broke off his engagement and refused to marry Lady Bai Lu, so he was made a duke?”
If such words spread, it would be a fatal blow to Bai Lu’s reputation.
If in the future Bai Lu’s husband could not be ennobled, could not surpass Lu Qian in fame, fortune, and rank, no matter how much the Bai family and Zhu Yu tried to generate hype, her reputation would never be restored.
The contrast was simply too glaring.
So Bai Changkong had been determined to attack Lu Qian during the assembly.
Yet, just one glance from Zhu Chong made Bai Changkong lower his banner, watching helplessly as Lu Qian enjoyed great benefits:
A ducal title, the command of troops, the grand banner, an honor guard, and so many lands, mines, and pastures—the bones of a prestigious noble house were built up single-handedly by Yin Yuan for Lu Qian.
The more Lu Qian gained, the heavier the “slander” on Bai Changkong, the Bai family, and Bai Lu became, with their reputations and prestige suffering devastating losses.
As one of the flag bearers pushed forward by the literary education faction in the Gaijing court, Bai Changkong’s loss today was enormous.
So he had to hold a stiff face and send a clear message to everyone: “Because of you, I have been harmed. How to handle the aftermath, you all decide.”
Zhu Chong took a few sips of tea, then glanced at Bai Changkong and the dozen or so silent core ministers of the literary education faction inside the hall.
Setting down his teacup, he sighed softly.
“Lord Bai, you have been wronged today.”
After a moment of silence, Bai Changkong set down his cup, stood up, and cupped his hands in respect to Zhu Chong.
Zhu Chong was of the main line of the Zhu Sheng family, the current Grand Chancellor.
Bai Changkong was a banner of the literary education faction in Gaijing—an emblem, a signboard.
But Zhu Chong was the faction’s representative in Gaijing, the supreme leader of the literary education faction in the court.
His every word and action represented the entire faction’s will.
Flags and signboards can be changed anytime, but the leader is not to be lightly challenged.
Moreover, Zhu Chong was nearly twenty years older than Bai Changkong.
By every measure, Bai Changkong dared not disobey Zhu Chong, unless he wanted to be ruined and alienated from the literary education faction.
Otherwise, just one glare from Zhu Chong at the assembly would be enough for Bai Changkong to back down quietly.
But Bai Changkong had originally expected Zhu Chong to give him some kind of explanation.
Instead, Zhu Chong’s attention wasn’t on the matter Bai Changkong cared about at all.
Zhu Chong remarked casually, then swiftly shifted the topic.
“I have a feeling that something big will happen in Anping Prefecture.” Zhu Chong’s fingers tapped on the armrest of his chair, his gaze deep as he surveyed the assembled ministers. “Nearly twenty thousand desperate warriors armed with full official-made weapons raided the Grand Chancellor’s Mansion in a desperate assault.”
“What a grand move. What great power. What shocking speed and boldness.” Zhu Chong stood, forcefully slapping the tea table, his voice loud and commanding. “Gentlemen, who is pulling the strings behind this?”
“Royal clan?”
“Nobles?”
“Feudal lords?”
“Or perhaps...” Zhu Chong gestured upwards, meaning the Empress Dowager or the Emperor—could one of them be the mastermind behind this?
“Or could it be… one of our own?”
Zhu Chong’s gaze grew grim as he scanned the ministers. “Grand Minister of Justice, what do you say? Is someone unhappy with the Zhu family’s position in the literary education faction and wants to replace us?”
Gongyang Xu rolled his eyes.
The Gongyang family had an ancestor devoted to the ‘Law’—a kind of ‘Second Sage’ within the literary education faction’s legal tradition.
Zhu Chong’s words hit a sensitive nerve.
He essentially suspected that some faction within the literary education group was behind last night’s assault, that someone coveted the leadership of the Zhu literary education branch and sought to supplant it.
Though Gongyang Xu rolled his eyes, he stood and smiled at Zhu Chong. “Chancellor, you worry too much. Our literary education’s millions of disciples all obey the Zhu Sheng line without question. There is no treachery here.”
Zhu Chong smiled wryly. “Gongyang family is known for ‘Legal Principle’ scholarship and keeping rules—understood. But what about the others...”
Several senior officials stood up and solemnly declared that the incident had nothing to do with them or their branches.
Zhu Chong’s eyes flickered, and he gave a faint smile. “Good. Then we shall unite and face this challenge together.”
He gestured for everyone to sit down again, sat back in his seat, lifting his teacup to drink.
“Then, can this incident be regarded as a provocation against our literary education faction?”
“Royal clan, nobles, feudal lords, or… which side do you all think is most likely responsible?”
Bai Changkong felt displeased.
Despite all his sacrifices, Zhu Chong didn’t mention his concerns even once.
He cleared his throat slightly. “Chancellor, perhaps you speak too harshly. Last night’s attack may have been a crazed attempt targeting you personally.”
There was a trace of bitter grievance in his words, alongside a hint of doubt.
Zhu Chong looked at Bai Changkong quietly. “If it were only an assault on the Grand Chancellor’s Mansion, maybe it was a private vendetta. Such is expected—I've held power for more than forty years, have countless enemies, like the Ye Guogong case back then... It would be natural for some to want my head.”
“But the involvement of Anping Prefecture in last night’s events—that is unlikely to be simply aimed at me personally.”
Bai Changkong frowned.
He wondered why Zhu Chong, and those ministers present, cared so deeply about Anping Prefecture.
Inside the hall, all except Bai Changkong—the other dozen or so purple-robed ministers showed flickers in their eyes—fear, hostility, some quietly counting on their fingers, plotting silently.
Bai Changkong carefully studied their expressions.
Gongyang Xu looked up and glanced at Bai Changkong.
He recalled something his older brother Gongyang Yao had said some days ago, and resolved to pull Bai Changkong into this mess.
“In the end, this matter goes back nearly eighteen or nineteen years,” Gongyang Xu said, glancing at Zhu Chong.
Zhu Chong held his teacup silently, evidently consenting to Gongyang Xu’s explanation to Bai Changkong.
Bai Changkong straightened his back.
The purple-robed ministers all obviously knew the true inside story behind Anping Prefecture… except him.
This feeling made Bai Changkong deeply uncomfortable—a sense of shame and humiliation at being excluded from the inner circle.
So he put on a face of careful listening, keen to hear what Gongyang Xu had to say.
At the same time, he schemed—it was nearly two decades ago, when he was merely a senior scholar at the National Academy.
Back then, given Bai Changkong’s position and influence in literary education and court, there were matters he had neither the privilege nor the channel to know.
“It’s actually simple to explain,” Gongyang Xu said solemnly. “It should be in the first year of the Jiayou reign, right after the new emperor ascended. Anping Prefecture suffered a natural disaster.”
“The Earth Dragon stirred, floods came first, then a terrible drought, followed by locusts and plague.”
“Anping stretches twenty thousand li from east to west, about nine thousand li from north to south. According to household registration records, there were over eighty-seven million registered households, with nearly three hundred million men and four hundred million women. The number of slaves and servants not registered was probably comparable.”
Bai Changkong stared intently at Gongyang Xu.
Gongyang Xu spoke slowly, “Such a calamity affecting all of Anping Prefecture naturally required relief efforts.”
“Relief did have some problems, though.”
“There was more loss of funds and provisions than expected.”
“Relief efforts were somewhat inefficient and slow.”
“Relief lasted from the first to the second year of Jiayou, over a year. Plague spread wildly, causing countless deaths and injuries. By the fourth year of Jiayou, the registered households had dropped from eighty-seven million to just over thirty million. The ratio of male and female casualties was even higher than the household losses.”
Bai Changkong gasped.
Gongyang Xu looked at him compassionately. “The new emperor had just taken the throne; the people’s hearts were unsettled, and the realm unstable. This matter couldn’t be allowed to become too big to avoid public uproar. So it was handled swiftly and decisively… Some officials in charge of relief were convicted by the Supreme Court and exiled but many died on the way from plague.”
Bai Changkong was silent for a long time.
He looked at Zhu Chong, hesitated, but finally asked a question he knew he probably shouldn’t but felt it might be better out than in.
When boarding a sinking ship, it was best to go all in—to leave a token of loyalty at least.
So he spoke up:
“Then… what about those lands in Anping Prefecture?”
(End of Chapter)