Song Liang spent a full two hours amusing himself with his sword in the little garden. Then he returned inside and dusted some pearl powder onto his face. Only afterward did he have Zhou An support him out of Zhaoyang Hall, breathing slightly hard, to personally help Fan Yuan and the other senior ministers to their feet. He assured them he was all right and apologized for worrying such pillars of the state.
Beside him, Zhou An anxiously reminded him that he had only just awakened and needed to protect his health. Song Liang gave him a measured reprimand, declaring that with his loyal ministers kneeling outside, how could an incompetent sovereign like him rest easy?
The old ministers were moved to tears. They assured him that he was still young and would one day achieve extraordinary things. So long as these old bones remained alive, they would devote themselves to his service.
The next day, the Ministry of Justice reported that Lu Yong, seal-bearing eunuch of the Directorate of Imperial Supplies, had died in the imperial prison. Several objects from Shoukang Palace had been discovered at his residence. All negligent personnel at the Directorate were handed over to the Ministry of Justice for punishment. The commander of the inner palace’s Twelve Guards was also removed from office pending investigation for dereliction of duty. Since the Grand Empress Dowager oversaw security within the palace, she too bore responsibility and was ordered to surrender the Twelve Guards’ command tokens to the emperor.
Even after these decrees, the senior ministers remained dissatisfied. Lu Yong was dead and the others were being dealt with, but the Grand Empress Dowager had merely surrendered the relatively insignificant Twelve Guards, while the Marquis of Wuying still received his appointment as assistant commissioner. They could not accept it.
Before they could submit further petitions, however, Left Censor-in-Chief Cheng Qu presented another memorial. He accused the Left Army commissioner of failing to control his subordinates and allowing them to oppress the common people. He also accused the Central Army commissioner of abusing the law for personal interests, permitting his nephew to falsify military status and fraudulently collect military pay.
Great Yao had been founded through military conquest, and its founding emperor had risen from the ranks. Military registration therefore brought particular privileges—and particularly strict obligations. Under Great Yao’s laws, such fraud was punishable by beheading. The accusation sent shock waves through the court. The senior ministers stopped discussing the Marquis of Wuying and instead demanded a thorough investigation into the fraudulent military registrations.
Naturally, Song Liang agreed.
Within days, the investigation uncovered the truth. The evidence was conclusive: military status had indeed been falsified to claim pay, and official power had been abused to protect those responsible. The senior ministers again demanded severe punishment. The Grand Empress Dowager refused, arguing so fiercely with them at court that she nearly fainted from anger.
In the end, Song Liang mediated. He declared that the Qin family had rendered meritorious service in protecting the imperial house, and that the Left and Central Army commissioners had merely suffered a momentary lapse in judgment. A few dozen strokes of the punishment staff and a forfeiture of salary would suffice.
The officials naturally objected. But then the young emperor seated on the dragon throne continued leisurely:
“However, this must never happen again. We shall establish the post of governor-general, held concurrently by the Minister of War, to supervise the five military commissioners.”
The court fell silent. Then understanding dawned.
His Majesty was not afraid of the Qins. He intended to break their monopoly, using the new governor-general’s position to divide the Chief Military Commission’s power!
The Grand Empress Dowager’s expression changed sharply. “Absolutely not!”
Song Liang glanced at her, his eyes cold.
“If you object, Grand Empress Dowager, perhaps we should order the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review to investigate Lu Yong and the military registration fraud to the very end?”
Lady Qin trembled, momentarily unable to speak. Darkness washed over her vision, and she suddenly slumped into the chair behind her.
“Your Majesty!” her maid cried from behind the curtain.
Without so much as a glance at her, Song Liang leisurely left the court.
As the officials dispersed, Cheng Qu approached Chancellor Yin.
“I never expected His Majesty to ask for the Twelve Guards.”
The Twelve Guards were the twelve divisions among the capital’s twenty-four guards specifically responsible for protecting the palace’s inner precincts. They had originated as the personal guard established by Great Yao’s founding Chen emperor during his conquests. Those who had followed him in founding and defending the realm had all been rewarded with noble titles and military commands.
By now, however, the Twelve Guards had long lost their former glory. They had become a place for idle descendants of the imperial clan and meritorious noble families to collect salaries. Their members cared only for eating, drinking, amusement, and brawling. Out of respect for their ancestors’ service, the court generally turned a blind eye.
If twenty of the imperial guard divisions were a mire of corruption, the Twelve Guards were the foulest part of it. Yet they were also the people closest to the emperor.
Should upheaval strike the palace, the Twelve Guards would be the emperor’s greatest defense. Better to hold them himself than leave them in someone else’s hands. It was understandable that the young emperor wanted them back.
“But since His Majesty has set his sights on the Twelve Guards, it means he has no other cards to play. Apart from you, Teacher, he has no one behind him. You can rest assured now,” Cheng Qu said with a smile.
Yet Yin Wei showed no pleasure. Instead, his expression remained thoughtful.
Cheng Qu asked, “What still concerns you, Teacher?”
Yin Wei shook his head. He had no specific concern, nor could he imagine what backing the young emperor might possess that would trouble him. Yet something still felt wrong. He could not shake the sense that he had overlooked something.
…
Over the past few days, Song Liang had used his illness as an excuse to cut his time at court in half. The senior ministers not only refrained from criticizing him but believed he had suffered for affairs of state. Life was exceedingly comfortable. Thus, even though the poison had almost entirely left his body, he intended to maintain his sickly image.
The Imperial Medical Office, however, clearly found this unacceptable. Physicians visited every few days, and fresh bowls of medicine appeared regularly. Refusing to drink was not an option, because his mother truly would pressure him.
He had just returned to Zhaoyang Hall when a maid brought that day’s medicine and informed him that a renowned physician had also arrived to examine him.
Song Liang could take no more. However robust his constitution, it could hardly withstand being flooded with herbs every day.
“I’ve actually recovered. No more medicine, and no need for a renowned physician either.”
The maid hesitated, but dared not argue. “Then I’ll ask the regent to return home.”
“Wait.”
Song Liang immediately caught her and pulled her back.
“Whom did you just say you’d send away?”
“His Highness the Regent,” the maid answered, bewildered. “He found the physician for Your Majesty.”
Song Liang’s lips curved upward. Then he coughed lightly several times.
“Actually, I haven’t recovered yet. I only said that because I didn’t want Mother to worry. Invite the regent in at once.”
“And this medicine—”
Before she finished, Song Liang seized the bowl and drained it.
Zhou An: “…”
Unable to help himself, he said, “Your Majesty, you could have poured the medicine away and still invited the regent inside.”
Song Liang accepted a cloth and wiped his mouth.
“You don’t understand. The regent is exceptionally clever. If I didn’t drink it, he might notice something amiss. Better to be safe. It’s only a bowl of bitter medicine.”
Zhou An’s expression was indescribable. “…You really do like the regent.”
Song Liang no longer had attention to spare for him. Xie Yun had entered with Cen Huan and an unfamiliar woman. She was in her early twenties, attractive, with almond-shaped eyes that regarded him curiously and without the slightest fear.
“I heard Your Majesty was unwell, so I made a special effort to find a renowned physician among the people to examine you.”
Song Liang savored the words “a special effort” and approached Xie Yun. His gaze passed over those green eyes. When the man gave him an indifferent glance, his heart eased slightly.
“Since she is a physician you found especially for me, naturally I must let her examine me thoroughly.”
He turned to the unfamiliar woman and smiled.
“May I ask your name?”
Qi Yunzhang had learned a few formalities before coming. She immediately curtsied.
“Your Majesty, this commoner is called Qi Yunzhang.”
“So you are Miss Q—”
Before he finished, the familiar surname registered. Song Liang’s smile faltered slightly.
“Your surname is Qi?”
Qi Yunzhang paused and looked up at him. “It is.”
Song Liang’s smile remained in place.
“Then do you play chess? Are you accomplished in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting?”
Qi Yunzhang: “?”
Cen Huan: “…”
Damn. He had forgotten about that.
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