BEGW C112

Chapter 112

Although Great Zhou had changed the system of the “Three Excellencies and Nine Ministers” into the “Three Departments and Six Ministries,” it did not abolish the seal-and-cord system that had been passed down for centuries.

Now that the imperial edict had been issued, yet the seals and cords had not been conferred, the reform of the official system could not be considered complete.

Thus, the highlight of today’s grand banquet lay in the rebestowal of official seals.

According to historical records, Lanchi Hall was the largest subsidiary hall within Yuyang Palace.

It consisted of front and rear halls, as well as two-story eastern and western towers that extended outward like wings from the far end of a covered bridge. With a depth of four bays, later archaeologists estimated—based on the remaining foundations—that the hall covered an area of roughly three thousand square meters.

In the past, Jiang Yuxun had never had a particularly clear sense of just how large Lanchi Hall was.

But now, standing within it and seeing all of Great Zhou’s civil and military officials seated together with the top one hundred candidates from this imperial examination—yet finding the hall still appearing spacious—he finally understood what it meant to be “grand in scale.”

Incense smoke from the Boshan censers drifted through the entire hall.

Accompanied by waves of drum and ceremonial music, the assembled ministers bowed to the Son of Heaven and listened once more to the proclamation.

After completing this series of formalities, the day’s true centerpiece finally arrived.

Attendants slowly struck the enormous bronze bell suspended outside Yuyang Palace.

Clad in a black ceremonial robe, Jiang Yuxun rose from his seat and walked step by step toward the hall, treading upon a carpet that had come from the State of Qiaoluo.

His black hair—usually half-draped, half-tied behind his head—was today entirely gathered and bound.

Paired with the dark robe, Jiang Yuxun’s usual warmth, like polished jade, carried an added edge of sharpness.

Wherever he passed, court officials cast upon him looks of admiration, even awe.

Little did they know that at this very moment, he was clenching his fingers tightly beneath the cover of his wide sleeves to hide his nervousness…

After noticing the mysterious symbolism on both their garments, Jiang Yuxun had already guessed that Ying Changchuan would pull something.

But he had never imagined that Ying Changchuan would go this far…

The act of conferring seals did not take long in itself—but with so many people involved, the process inevitably dragged on.

From this day forward, as Shangshu Ling, Jiang Yuxun would be the highest-ranking official in Great Zhou.

Having him perform this ceremony on behalf of all officials was only reasonable.

At this moment, the carpeted aisle of the hall was lined on both sides with seated ministers. As Jiang Yuxun slowly advanced toward the front under their gaze, the scene felt increasingly familiar.

—How was this any different from a modern wedding ceremony?!

Though Ying Changchuan was not a transmigrator like Jiang Yuxun, he had somehow, by sheer coincidence, captured the essence of modern ritual.

Outwardly, Official Jiang in his black robes appeared no different from usual.

Yet by the time he reached the front of the hall alone, accompanied only by drum music, a faint flush had already crept up behind his ears…

The music faded, and Jiang Yuxun finally came to a stop before the hall.

Suppressing the strange emotions in his heart, he raised his hand and solemnly bowed to Ying Changchuan.

“Your servant Jiang Yuxun greets Your Majesty—”

The emperor, who had been seated alone upon the five-tiered dais, slowly rose under everyone’s gaze.

He lowered his eyes to Jiang Yuxun and smiled softly. “You may rise, my beloved minister.”

As he spoke, he even lifted a hand to steady Jiang Yuxun’s wrist—an undeniably intimate gesture.

The smoke of the Boshan censer drifted close to Jiang Yuxun.

At that moment, the Son of Heaven took an item from a golden tray at his side and held it in his hand.

The instant they saw what he was holding, several senior ministers nearby inhaled sharply and exchanged instinctive glances.

If the ceremonial robes could still be dismissed as an accident, then the seal in Ying Changchuan’s hand was a flagrant breach of protocol!

In the past, even the highest-ranking Three Excellencies were only entitled to a gold seal with purple cord.

But what the emperor now held was clearly the long-vanished golden imperial seal with dark cord.

A seal (yin) and an imperial seal (xi) were two entirely different things.

…If the ministers remembered correctly, such a golden imperial seal with dark cord had once been bestowed by former dynasties upon feudal kings!

Not only the onlookers— even Jiang Yuxun himself was startled by what Ying Changchuan held.

…Ying Changchuan had not told him at all that he planned to do this!

The cord, woven from golden threads and green silk, glimmered faintly in the lamplight.

Upon the small golden seal was carved an intricate honeysuckle motif…

The moment Jiang Yuxun recognized the pattern, the shock in his heart abruptly hollowed out.

It was the honeysuckle motif…

The golden imperial seal with dark cord stood below one person, above ten thousand.

Only Jiang Yuxun and Ying Changchuan knew what the honeysuckle carved upon this symbol of supreme authority truly represented.

It was a secret hidden beneath imperial power—one that belonged solely to the two of them.

Jiang Yuxun’s fingers trembled lightly at his side.

Across the table, the emperor slowly bent down and fastened the corded seal at Jiang Yuxun’s waist.

His movements were exceptionally careful. The twelve jade pendants of his ceremonial crown swayed gently, producing a soft sound audible only to the two of them.

The massive tree-shaped bronze lamps illuminated their faces.

Under the warm yellow candlelight, the scene seemed like a meticulous painting etched into everyone’s memory.

…

Zhuang Yue, seated at the emperor’s right and witnessing all of this firsthand, suddenly gained a look of understanding.

—As a former Minister of Agriculture who had also followed the emperor through countless campaigns, he could, if he wished, have become head of one of the Three Departments.

But with age advancing and many grievous wounds sustained in battle, he ultimately chose to retire at this moment, planning to compile books according to his own interests at home in Zhaodu.

After today, Zhuang Yue would no longer need to come to Yuyang Palace.

Thinking of this, complex emotions surfaced in his slightly clouded dark-brown eyes.

The still-young Jiang Yuxun might not grasp the emperor’s intent.

But Zhuang Yue—who had spent most of his life navigating officialdom—instantly understood Ying Changchuan’s thinking through this scene.

—The emperor had granted Jiang Yuxun unparalleled honor, yet deliberately refrained from fixing those honors to any single position, so that he alone would remain irreplaceable.

Even if there were future Shangshu Ling, none would ever be like Jiang Yuxun.

The two of them were more serious than Zhuang Yue had originally thought.

Seeing this, Zhuang Yue—who had always treated Jiang Yuxun like his own child—felt a surge of quiet emotion.

The worry he had harbored in secret finally eased.

He sniffed lightly, a smile appearing on his face.

Atop the long steps of Lanchi Hall in Yuyang Palace—

After fastening the seal to Jiang Yuxun, Ying Changchuan slowly straightened.

Before Jiang Yuxun could bow and withdraw, the emperor suddenly raised his hand—within a blind spot of most officials—and shamelessly pinched Jiang Yuxun’s fingers.

Jiang Yuxun, still moved just a moment ago, immediately frowned, then reflexively slapped Ying Changchuan’s hand away.

Pa! The sound was crisp and loud.

So loud that several nearby senior officials lifted their heads in confusion and glanced around.

…Did I just hear something?

Zhuang Yue, who had been touched moments earlier: “……”

Doing this openly in Lanchi Hall?

Why on earth had I been worrying about Jiang Yuxun?

Ying Changchuan disliked attending banquets. In past years’ Harvest Festivals, he would show his face briefly before disappearing.

Although the emperor did not immediately leave today, once the seals had been conferred, the remaining rites were rushed through like a checklist.

Before long, the banquet officially began.

Palace maids in water-pink court dress appeared, carrying lacquered trays.

Upon them were delicacies from all corners of Great Zhou—and even from Western Regions—along with fine strong liquor.

In recent years, varieties of spirits had grown more diverse, and prices were no longer as high as before.

Yet the finest wines only grew more expensive.

Most of the officials present in Lanchi Hall—those who had entered office through the imperial examinations—came from poor families and had never tasted such fine liquor.

Thus, as soon as the banquet began, they eagerly raised their cups and drank.

Before long, the atmosphere warmed amid clinking cups and exchanged toasts.

An official seated near the entrance quietly picked up a glass lens and held it before his eyes, summoning courage with wine as he peeked toward the hall.

This newly appointed official suffered from “fear of distance,” what modern people would call nearsightedness.

Born to poverty, he could not afford the crystal lenses reserved for nobility, and had squinted his way through books for years.

Only in recent years—after Great Zhou’s glassmaking technology advanced rapidly—did he finally manage to acquire glass lenses, and the world before him suddenly became clear.

Seeing his sneaky behavior, a colleague beside him set down his cup, patted him lightly, and leaned in. “Lord Bai, what are you looking at?”

“Y-you scared me to death—” Lord Bai nearly dropped the lens, clutching his chest as he lowered his voice. “I just wanted to see what His Majesty and Lord Jiang actually look like.”

Earlier, he and the others had only dared bow with lowered heads. Only now did he dare examine the imperial countenance.

After speaking, he glanced around again and whispered, “His Majesty and Lord Jiang really are as close as the rumors say!”

People said the Son of Heaven and Minister Jiang were a pairing of enlightened ruler and worthy minister.

Perfect trust in court, and close friendship beyond it.

The colleague beside him, face flushed from drink, immediately chimed in, “Exactly! Such ruler–minister affection—has there ever been anything like it in history?”

Slightly drunk, he forgot to control his volume, and his words happened to reach the ears of a passing official.

—Hearing this, the man—who had once traveled with the emperor to Taoyan Commandery to handle snow relief—lowered his head and cast the two a meaningful glance.

Heh. Where in the world is there such a thing as “ruler–minister affection”?

They were still too young. Stay in court long enough, and they would understand…

The emperor did not leave immediately as he often did.

Still, he did not remain long in Lanchi Hall.

After his departure, though some felt disappointed, the atmosphere only grew livelier.

Not far away, several officials gathered to drink and chat.

“Do you know who this seat used to belong to?” one asked mysteriously, holding his cup toward a colleague newly transferred from the counties to Zhaodu.

The man paused, frowning. “How would I know?”

“It’s just an ordinary seat. Who could it belong to?” another said casually while pouring himself a drink. “Stop teasing us. We’d never guess anyway.”

“Exactly!”

Hearing this, the first speaker finally set down his cup and carefully stroked the seat before him.

“Look at you lot—can’t even be bothered to think!” He cleared his throat theatrically and lowered his voice. “This seat belonged to Lord Jiang.”

“Lord Jiang?”

“You mean Jiang Yuxun—Lord Jiang?!”

“When did Lord Jiang ever sit here?”

The group suddenly perked up.

Someone immediately set down his cup and copied the earlier gesture, reaching out to touch the seat.

As if hoping to absorb some of Jiang Yuxun’s good fortune that way.

But before his hand could reach it, a colleague slapped it away.

“Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

 

After finishing his teasing, the man took another sip of wine before continuing,

“I heard that three or four years ago, it was right here in Lanchi Hall—on this very seat—that Lord Jiang offered counsel to the Son of Heaven. From that moment on, he rose step by step all the way to the top!”

What had happened in Lanchi Hall that day had long since turned into a celebrated tale, spreading throughout Great Zhou.

Even though the ministers could recite that story from beginning to end, those who were stepping into Yuyang Palace for the first time today had never realized that the event in question had taken place right where they were sitting now!

As soon as those words fell, they immediately surrounded the seat, once again sighing in awe over that famous anecdote.

Because of Jiang Yuxun—and because of those stories—new blood in Great Zhou’s court was no longer afraid to show themselves before the emperor.

On the contrary, everyone wanted to seize a chance to be noticed by His Majesty or by Lord Jiang, to shine on the court stage.

And openly or secretly, they had already begun to regard Jiang Yuxun as an idol.

The atmosphere of the court had quietly changed.

※

At the xu hour, night had fully fallen.

Under normal circumstances, most people would already be asleep.

But today’s grand banquet had only just ended, and Zhaodu was at its liveliest.

Officials left Lanchi Hall and, under the guidance of palace eunuchs, departed the imperial palace in small groups.

In just a few short hours, the snow along the palace roads had already piled up three or four inches deep—each step leaving behind a clear footprint.

Everyone’s pace slowed accordingly.

“Achoo—”

Even wrapped in thick fox fur, Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help but let out a heavy sneeze when a gust of cold wind hit him.

Zhuang Youli, walking beside him, leaned closer with a worried expression.

“Axun, did you catch a chill?”

Jiang Yuxun sniffed, his voice hoarse as he replied,

“I’m fine. Just got a bit cold.”

The tip of his nose had turned faintly red, making him look especially pitiful.

Yet Zhuang Youli showed not a shred of sympathy.

He clicked his tongue and muttered under his breath,

“Serves you right for refusing to stay in Yuyang Palace and insisting on going out to join the fun.”

Last month, Ying Changchuan had brought the civil and military officials back to Zhaodu.

Zhuang Youli—who had previously been squeezed into the outskirts of Xianyou Palace—finally returned to his own home.

After a short rest, he rode out to the Jiang family estate, intending to invite Jiang Yuxun to dine together at a tavern in Zhaodu.

Only after arriving did he find out…

Jiang Yuxun wasn’t even living at home!

Knowing the relationship between Jiang Yuxun and Ying Changchuan, Zhuang Youli instantly understood—

Axun was definitely living with His Majesty!

Jiang Yuxun cleared his throat and turned to pretend he was admiring the snowy scenery.

“Ahem… There were too many people in Yuyang Palace today. Better not arouse suspicion.”

Now that he was Shangshu Ling, Jiang Yuxun was the focus of attention both in and out of court.

If he hadn’t left Yuyang Palace together with everyone else today, rumors would surely surface by tomorrow.

Leaving the palace this time was partly to avoid that trouble.

And partly because… ever since returning to Yuyang Palace and receiving a warming medicinal prescription from the imperial physicians, Ying Changchuan—already excessive to begin with—had grown even more unrestrained.

Several recent rest days had been entirely consumed by that sort of thing…

Fortunately, it was winter. With thick clothes and fox fur as cover, no one noticed anything amiss.

Since he had the chance to leave the palace, Jiang Yuxun—desperate for proper rest—naturally couldn’t let it slip by.

“…Alright.”

Barely persuaded, Zhuang Youli nodded.

Not long after, the main southern gate of Yuyang Palace came into view.

Seeing the familiar carriage, Jiang Yuxun finally let out a breath of relief.

Outside Zhaodu’s walls, the wind and snow were even fiercer.

Scattered moonlight fell upon the mirror-like white snow, turning night into day.

Though the carriage walls were thin, the interior insulation was excellent—no wind seeped in at all.

Soon after boarding, Jiang Yuxun wrapped himself in fox fur, hugged a hot-water hand warmer, and fell asleep.

By the time he woke, the carriage had already entered the Jiang family estate.

He carefully lifted a corner of the curtain and looked outside.

The estate had been completely renovated.

Not a trace of wasteland remained. Even the once-stagnant pond had been brought back to life.

Lotuses were planted in it—filling the horizon with green in summer.

In autumn and winter, it carried a different kind of desolate beauty.

More than that, Jiang Yuxun had returned home this past autumn and ordered a pavilion built over the pond.

In summer, it would be perfect for enjoying cool shade among the lotus blooms.

It could even produce lotus roots to satisfy everyone’s appetites.

Unlike Zhaodu, the estate only had buildings and wine cellars in certain areas; most of the land was still used for farming.

In winter, the open space at the estate’s entrance was completely exposed, and the northern wind howled straight past Jiang Yuxun’s ears.

“Young Master, wait a moment,” the steward’s voice reached him before he could get down.

“Put on another layer before coming out!”

As he spoke, the steward opened the curtain a crack and handed Jiang Yuxun an even larger fox-fur cloak.

The cold of a snowy night was no joke.

Even wrapped in several layers, Jiang Yuxun was still chilled through by the time he reached the house.

Thankfully, the heated wall worked well.

He immediately changed into warmed clothes and drank a cup of ginger soup, his body temperature slowly returning.

Worried about the cold seeping in, he didn’t rest right away. Instead, he entered the inner room and sat down in the bathwater that the household servants had prepared in advance.

…

Although the Jiang estate had no hot spring, the wealthy Jiang Yuxun never shortchanged himself when it came to bathing.

The tub in his room was not only large, but had additional inlets and outlets, connected to the outer room by bamboo pipes.

This allowed the water to be changed at any time, eliminating the risk of catching a chill mid-bath.

Steam soon filled the entire inner room, and before long Jiang Yuxun could see nothing but white mist.

Already long past bedtime, he finally succumbed to drowsiness and leaned lightly against the tub, drifting off to sleep.

Not long after, a faint sound suddenly came from outside the partition door.

Knock, knock, knock—

Startled awake, Jiang Yuxun blinked hard and groggily looked toward the door.

…Someone delivering clothes?

Rubbing his eyes, he raised his voice,

“No need to come in. Just leave them on the rack outside.”

As he spoke, the sound of running water reached his ears.

—The estate changed the bathwater every quarter hour. It was just about time.

But the person outside didn’t leave. Instead, amid the gentle sound of water, a soft voice asked,

“Not finished bathing yet, Young Master?”

The voice was unclear—overly hoarse. Jiang Yuxun had to strain to catch the words.

Though he was the estate’s master, he rarely returned home due to official duties.

The household servants, unfamiliar with him, almost never made casual conversation.

“Soon,” Jiang Yuxun replied after a brief pause, puzzled but calm.

“I dozed off by accident just now.”

The person outside still didn’t leave, and with that, Jiang Yuxun’s sleepiness vanished.

Realizing he shouldn’t fall asleep in the tub again, he yawned softly and reached for a towel to dry his hair.

But the moment he raised his arm, he caught sight of something from the corner of his eye—

The shadow beyond the partition door hadn’t moved.

…What’s going on?

Sensing something was wrong, he froze.

Having once experienced an incident, Jiang Yuxun frowned slightly. Nervous now, he lowered his voice.

“Is there something else?”

As he spoke, his fingers tightened around the towel.

A laugh came from outside. That blurred voice, once again mingled with the sound of water, reached his ears.

“I’ve come to see Young Master Jiang.”

“To see me?” Jiang Yuxun was taken aback.

“Who are you? Why are you looking for me?”

The voice outside was hoarse and unfamiliar, yet in its deliberate cadence, Jiang Yuxun caught a trace of something strangely familiar.

He slowly narrowed his eyes…

A name abruptly surfaced in his mind.

The person outside seemed to be enjoying himself. Not only did he not leave, he even turned and leaned casually against the door.

His tall figure blocked the candlelight on the other side.

Only a single shadow remained, lightly enveloping Jiang Yuxun’s form.

At this moment, it was as if he were trapped within the dark embrace of the person beyond the door.

The man’s posture was casual, lending his silhouette a rare, roguish air.

He finally stopped deliberately lowering his voice and murmured with a laugh,

“I’m Young Master Jiang’s lover—abandoned without reason in Yuyang Palace today.”

The low, lazy voice flowed like water, unconsciously wrapping around Jiang Yuxun.

Before he could respond, the man outside suddenly turned and pressed his hand to the partition door.

“As for why I came to find him… naturally, it’s to carry on a secret affair.”

Before the words had fully fallen, a soft creak sounded in Jiang Yuxun’s ears.

Without waiting for a reply, his “lover” pushed open the partition door and stepped inside.

Thick steam spilled out through the opening.

Jiang Yuxun’s vision cleared instantly.

The person before him had already changed out of ceremonial robes—and wasn’t even wearing his usual crimson gauze.

Instead, he appeared before Jiang Yuxun in brocade.

The jade-colored brocade shimmered softly in the candlelight.

At some unknown moment, the man had shed all traces of killing intent. Between his brows lingered only gentleness and desire—at first glance, truly fitting the role of a “lover.”

What kind of game was Ying Changchuan playing?!

Unlike Yanxian Island or Yuyang Palace, there were no flower petals in the estate’s bath.

Even Jiang Yuxun’s black hair—which might have instinctively covered him—had been lifted and draped over the tub’s edge so it wouldn’t make him cold.

Ying Changchuan’s gaze fell upon him without restraint.

Though they had been together for some time, the sudden appearance still startled Jiang Yuxun.

He immediately sank lower into the water and gritted his teeth.

“Ying Changchuan, what are you doing?!”

As if he hadn’t heard, Ying Changchuan continued forward.

The Son of Heaven—who mere hours ago had sat upright on the five-tiered dais wearing the Twelve-Jade-Cord Crown—walked slowly to Jiang Yuxun’s side, casually picking up a towel to dry his long hair.

A few breaths later, he set the towel aside.

Ying Changchuan chuckled softly. Pressing his fingertips lightly against Jiang Yuxun’s smooth, pale shoulder and back, he said indifferently,

“Of course I’m here to help Young Master Jiang bathe.”

As he spoke, he brushed deliberately against the vivid red mark at his own neck, his gaze turning dangerously deep.

The emperor’s strength was neither light nor heavy—but utterly lacking in restraint.

With his kneading touch, a wave of tingling sensation instantly spread across Jiang Yuxun’s back.

At some point, the fingers gripping the edge of the tub tightened.

Jiang Yuxun’s breathing faltered.

…No.

Ying Changchuan—how have you not broken character yet?

 

• “戌时” → xu hour: An ancient time division, roughly 7–9 p.m.
• “尚书令”: The highest-ranking civil official; highlight → the position makes Jiang Yuxun the focal point of all court gossip and scrutiny.
• “暗通款曲”: Literally “to secretly exchange affection”; highlight → a euphemism for a hidden romantic/sexual relationship.
• The bath setup with water inlets and outlets is an early “luxury engineering flex,” showing both wealth and practical anti-cold design.

• “印绶制度 (seal-and-cord system)”: A traditional system where an official’s authority was symbolized not just by rank, but by a physical seal and a colored cord—color and material strictly indicated status.
• “金印紫绶” vs “金玺盩绶”:
  • Gold Seal + Purple Cord = highest ministerial honor.
  • Gold Imperial Seal + Dark Cord = royal-level authority, historically reserved for kings and princes. That’s why everyone panics.