BEGW C105

Chapter 105

He had already been drinking on and off throughout the day.

The strong liquor Ying Changchuan fed him, coupled with that string of questions, became the final straw that crushed the camel’s back—leaving Jiang Yuxun’s thoughts in complete disarray.

“Like…”

The moment he spoke, Jiang Yuxun realized his voice was hoarser than usual. “Back then, I liked people who were good-looking.”

The answer was blunt to the point of recklessness. Hearing it, Ying Changchuan couldn’t help but laugh softly.

Back then, Zhuang Youli had dragged Jiang Yuxun to Water Music Pavilion, ostensibly to see musicians. Only after arriving did Jiang Yuxun realize the place was suspiciously close to a pleasure house. The musicians inside were all heavily made up, no different from the male favorites who lingered beside the dandies of Zhaodu.

At the time, Ying Changchuan had asked what Jiang Yuxun thought of the musicians’ looks. Somehow, the conversation drifted into Jiang Yuxun’s personal taste. And the more he answered… the more it started sounding like he was describing Ying Changchuan himself.

Afraid of causing a misunderstanding, Jiang Yuxun had resorted to his ultimate emergency measure—clamping a hand over his own throat and forcibly swallowing the rest of his words.

Even now, recalling it made his scalp prickle with embarrassment. He wished he could erase that memory from everyone’s mind.

As if worried he might pull the same stunt again, Ying Changchuan had unknowingly intertwined their fingers at some point.

“What kind of looks does my beloved prefer?” the emperor murmured near his ear.

Jiang Yuxun’s fingers twitched.

Time had passed. He was no longer afraid of answering such questions. Everything embarrassing that could happen had already happened. So, fueled by alcohol, Jiang Yuxun simply lifted his gaze and looked straight at Ying Changchuan.

“For example… your looks.”

Perhaps only Jiang Yuxun in this world would dare to comment on the emperor’s appearance.

Having seen far greater scenes—and now thoroughly tipsy—he even tightened his grip in return. Then, suddenly releasing Ying Changchuan’s hand, he began counting on his fingers with deliberate seriousness, smiling as he spoke:

“Nowadays I also like that he’s achieved outstanding military merit, that his martial skills are exceptional, and that he listens to remonstrance.”

He was answering honestly—but not quite answering what Ying Changchuan wanted to hear.

His movements were earnest, his dark eyes gradually filling with light as he counted. Yet the smile on Ying Changchuan’s face slowly faded. After a few breaths, he suddenly caught Jiang Yuxun’s fingers.

“Only that much?”

Those were the qualities ministers praised in an emperor. Not the sweet words a lover wished to hear.

The wine shop fell momentarily quiet.

Behind the silk screen, a summer breeze stirred Jiang Yuxun’s loose hair. He smiled gently at Ying Changchuan and said seriously, eyes meeting his:

“…I like it when he doesn’t act like an emperor.”

He liked Ying Changchuan’s shameless nonsense, liked the way he secretly passed notes to him.

And he liked that embrace on the rainy night.

—Secrets known only to the two of them.

By now, Jiang Yuxun was clearly a little drunk. His eyes curved into crescents when he smiled.

Near noon, the sunlight overhead grew dazzling, illuminating his eyes until they looked like a clear pool whose depths could be seen at a glance.

At some point, Ying Changchuan’s palm had come to rest at the back of Jiang Yuxun’s neck, gently rubbing twice.

…Feeling the warmth beneath his fingers, he suddenly regretted that they were in the middle of a bustling city.

Jiang Yuxun hadn’t rested well the night before due to travel. The alcohol now acted as a perfect sedative, and before long he began to yawn.

As midday approached, the wine shop grew busy. Xing Zhi had matters to attend to. Before the crowd thickened, Jiang Yuxun and Ying Changchuan left, boarding a carriage toward the other side of Zhaodu.

Their destination this time was neither the Jiang family estate nor Yuyang Palace.

It was a grand residence on the southern side of Zhaodu.

The carriage wheels rolled slowly along the long streets, weaving through the sea of people. With a soft creak, Jiang Yuxun—slightly drunk—finally leaned against the carriage wall and closed his eyes.

Seeing this, Ying Changchuan turned and lightly patted his shoulder, reminding him softly, “Don’t sleep yet. Rest properly once we arrive.”

His voice was low and unhurried, heavy with languor.

Jiang Yuxun opened his eyes and cautiously lifted the curtain a little. “Where are we going?”

Ying Changchuan smiled faintly. “To the Mi family ancestral residence.”

“The Mi family?” Jiang Yuxun sat upright at once. “…Where Princess Lianyi is staying?”

Ying Changchuan’s mother had borne the surname Mi.

The “Mi family” he referred to was his maternal family.

After returning to Great Zhou, Princess Lianyi had stayed briefly at Xianyou Palace before moving back to the Mi residence.

“Yes.” Ying Changchuan narrowed his eyes as he looked outside.

He hadn’t returned to the Mi family for many years. Had it not been for what Jiang Yuxun said earlier, he might have long forgotten the place.

…And yet now, he wanted very much to bring Jiang Yuxun there.

Jiang Yuxun nodded lightly, his foggy mind gradually clearing.

As far as he knew, the Mi family had never been very numerous. Ying Changchuan’s mother had one younger brother and one younger sister. The sister was Princess Lianyi; the brother, also a military man, had died in battle several years earlier.

His widow had since remarried. The household was now completely empty.

Xing Zhi’s wine shop lay toward the south of the city, not far from the Mi ancestral home. As they spoke, the carriage passed through the high walls and rolled to a stop.

After Ying Changchuan ascended the throne, the entire Ying family had gained nothing. The court only knew there had been discord between him and his father.

After General Mi’s death, officials—uncertain of the emperor’s attitude toward the Mi family—dared not associate with the remaining branches.

Over time, this grand southern residence became eerily quiet.

Had Ying Changchuan not said it himself, Jiang Yuxun would never have imagined being brought here.

The carriage stopped on the courtyard’s bluestone paving.

The trees inside the Mi residence had long since grown tall and lush. The summer wind here was noticeably cooler, instantly washing away the last traces of alcohol from Jiang Yuxun.

He looked around curiously. “Did Your Majesty live here as a child?”

According to The History of Zhou, Marquis Jing was debauched and extravagant. Lady Mi, from a distinguished family herself, did not get along with him and often brought the young Ying Changchuan back to the Mi household.

“Yes,” Ying Changchuan said, nostalgia in his gaze. “It was much quieter than Marquis Jing’s residence. I studied and trained in martial arts here as a child.”

The Mi family was small; the residence, large. Ying Changchuan had not informed anyone before coming, so even now they had seen scarcely a soul.

The Xuan Seal Guards had already withdrawn.

As they walked, Ying Changchuan led Jiang Yuxun to a tree and brushed a hand over its trunk. “These marks were left when I practiced swordsmanship.”

Deep and shallow scars marred the tall ginkgo tree, still clearly visible despite the years.

…

He hadn’t had the gate attendants notify anyone, so no one had come yet.

Though it had been many years since he returned, the familiar plants slowly stirred Ying Changchuan’s memories. Guided by recollection, he led Jiang Yuxun toward his old quarters.

The Mi residence was large despite its small population. Passing a hall, Jiang Yuxun suddenly heard the rapid clack-clack of abacus beads.

Curious, he peeked through the window.

Inside the modest hall were several desks. Five or six men dressed as household clerks sat calculating furiously. Dark circles hung beneath their eyes, as if they hadn’t rested in days.

The room was also piled with sheets of paper covered in writing—phrases like “millet, one dan: twenty qian” clearly visible.

“…I’m exhausted,” a clerk by the window yawned. Rubbing his eyes, he muttered uncertainly, “If we work this hard and still don’t pass, won’t it be a total loss?”

At that moment, Jiang Yuxun realized—they weren’t doing accounts. They were preparing for the imperial examination to be held in Zhaodu three months later.

Although literacy had spread widely across Great Zhou, time was limited. Most adult commoners could only read basic characters; the examination was still far beyond them.

This year’s main candidates were precisely people like these—household clerks and merchants’ sons.

“Why worry so much?” another man yawned. “The court is desperately short on officials. This might be the easiest exam in years. Even if it kills us, we have to seize this chance.”

“…Do you think we can really beat the sons of nobles?” someone asked.

The hall erupted in laughter, instantly dispelling the drowsiness.

“The sons of nobles won’t bother going to the northern territories or places like Shuolin Commandery!”

“Exactly—haha!”

“True, true…”

 

Besides Zhaodu’s shortage of officials, the newly conquered territories were even more desperately lacking people to govern them.

Among the candidates who ranked at the top of this imperial examination, only a small portion would remain in Zhaodu to serve at court. The vast majority would be dispatched by the government to various commanderies and counties.

The sons of high officials and noble families naturally had far more education, yet they would rather sit examination after examination than ever leave Zhaodu.

But these household clerks were different.

—An unprecedented path of upward mobility had been laid out before them, and no one was unwilling to go out and try their luck.

This opportunity was without historical precedent. It absolutely could not be missed.

After the laughter subsided, they quickly sobered up.

The people who had just been joking around immediately straightened up.

“Come on, give me a blank sheet. I’m going to draw the Yi River from memory.”

Someone beside him handed over the paper, and the room fell quiet once more.

Jiang Yuxun had never intended to use a single imperial examination to select world-shaking geniuses.

At present, the empire was in ruins and renewal. What the court needed were people who could actually get things done for the people.

In addition to foundational subjects such as law, medicine, mathematics, and agriculture, heavy weight was also given to current affairs, geography, and even grain prices.

To serve as a local magistrate, one had to understand the land beneath one’s feet.

“Let’s go, Your Majesty…” Jiang Yuxun lowered his voice to Ying Changchuan.

Not wanting to disturb the clerks, he and Ying Changchuan deliberately softened their steps as they left, only letting out a breath once they were far away.

“Selecting officials is only the first step,” Jiang Yuxun said. “After that, Great Zhou’s court system itself must also change.”

As he spoke, he lifted his eyes and looked seriously at Ying Changchuan.

This was something both of them had already considered, though it had yet to be formally placed on the agenda.

The emperor nodded lightly. “At present, even among the Three Excellencies and Nine Ministers, there are vacancies. Among those who remain… take the Director of the Imperial Clan, for example—there’s hardly any real work for him to do.”

The current system was no longer suited to Great Zhou—no one understood this more clearly than Ying Changchuan.

That was precisely why he had not appointed a new Chancellor all these years, and why the post of Grand Commandant, responsible for military affairs, had remained vacant for so long.

As they spoke, the two of them arrived in a small courtyard.

Jiang Yuxun did not know where this was. He unconsciously lowered his voice.

“Besides that, the royal household and state affairs are mixed together, and administration and supervision are barely distinguishable. If this continues, disaster is inevitable.”

—For example, his immediate superior, the Director of the Imperial Treasury, not only managed palace provisions and the emperor’s daily needs, but even oversaw weapon manufacture and storage.

From a later perspective, that was utterly absurd.

A cicada cried from the tall locust tree overhead. Ying Changchuan slowly stopped and looked at Jiang Yuxun.

“What does my beloved propose?”

Leaves shattered the sunlight into fragments, scattering it over the person beneath the tree like gold foil.

From the hall they had just left, laughter suddenly rang out again—the clerks seemed to have finished drawing their maps.

Amid the laughter and the summer breeze, Jiang Yuxun raised his eyes with grave seriousness and said,

“Why not replace the Excellencies and Ministers with Ministries and Departments?”

In original history, it was precisely the emergence of the Three Departments and Six Ministries system that replaced the Three Excellencies and Nine Ministers.

Unlike the relatively chaotic ministerial system, its divisions of responsibility were clear, and the departments checked and balanced one another.*

In Jiang Yuxun’s view, it was the most suitable system for Great Zhou at this stage.

Ying Changchuan softly repeated Jiang Yuxun’s words.

A faint light rose in his smoke-gray eyes.

Jiang Yuxun knew—his proposal had been firmly noted.

The Mi family residence was not a place to discuss state affairs.

Moreover, it was a day of rest, and Jiang Yuxun had no intention of working overtime.

After exchanging a few more words, they temporarily set the topic aside.

Before they could leave the locust tree, footsteps suddenly sounded behind them.

Turning around, Jiang Yuxun saw that Princess Lianyi, who resided here, had finally learned of the emperor’s arrival and was approaching with her maids.

Before they could bow, Ying Changchuan smiled and waved his hand.

“No need for formalities. I’m just taking a look today. Go about your duties.”

“Yes, Your Majesty—”

Though the household attendants wished to steal another glance at the emperor, once Ying Changchuan spoke, they immediately withdrew.

In the blink of an eye, only Princess Lianyi and her accompanying maids remained.

Unlike the maids, who were too nervous to raise their heads, Princess Lianyi smiled and said,

“If you go a bit farther ahead, you’ll reach where Your Majesty once lived. The courtyard has been locked all these years. Please wait a moment—I’ve already sent someone to fetch the key.”

“Thank you for the trouble, Princess,” Ying Changchuan replied with a nod.

“Please don’t stand on ceremony,” she said, waving her hand. “After I returned to the Mi residence a few days ago, I had the entire estate cleaned. Your Majesty may rest here for a while.”

Having spent over twenty years away in a political marriage, she was one of the few people who could speak naturally with Ying Changchuan.

Soon after, a maid in light-red court robes hurried over with a ring of keys, nervously saluted, and placed them into Princess Lianyi’s hands.

They had already reached the courtyard entrance.

Princess Lianyi did not hand the keys to Ying Changchuan. Instead, she smiled meaningfully and extended them toward Jiang Yuxun.

“Then, Lord Jiang, we’ll take our leave.”

…She’s giving the keys to me?

Jiang Yuxun hesitated, then quickly stepped forward to accept them.

“Yes, Princess.”

Knowing she was aware of his relationship with Ying Changchuan, he couldn’t help but feel there was something pointed in her smile.

Ying Changchuan, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow.

Seeing the keys safely handed over, Princess Lianyi added, “There will be a family banquet at the residence tonight at the Hour of Xu. I hope Your Majesty and Lord Jiang will honor us with your presence.” With that, she bowed and departed.

The tall locust tree blocked the blazing summer sun.

Beyond its shadow, the freshly lacquered courtyard gate came faintly into view.

This… was where Ying Changchuan had once lived.