Benefiting from decades of good governance during the Jiajing reign, the Immortal-Calming Tax Law was transmitted to local government offices across Great Yan with exceptional efficiency. Yet, like a depth charge plunging into water before detonating, Great Yan's fourteen provinces fell into an eerie hush during the interim.
The final calm before the storm.
Half a month had passed since the day of the Northern Hunt.
Many things had transpired within the capital over these past days.
Though the Immortal-Calming Tax Law had stirred up colossal waves in the imperial court, ninety-nine percent of the common folk remained completely in the dark. Indeed, even when war broke out in earnest, they would likely never learn the cause.
Because of this, what affected the common folk in the streets and markets the most were perhaps the two decrees withdrawing the gold-armored Imperial Guard outside the walls and easing the Imperial City Bureau's travel restrictions into and out of the capital.
Di'an had enjoyed long years of peace; not for decades had it seen martial law. Now that normality was restored, the literati and scholars in taverns and brothels naturally fell into grand debates over the reasons behind these edicts.
Some claimed the Imperial Guard had been redeployed to the front lines in preparation for war. Others said the guardsmen had originally been stationed there to guard against the Prime Minister's Manor usurping the throne, and now that the new law had been promulgated, no conflict would erupt between the imperial family and the Prime Minister's Manor in the short term. Still others claimed the Emperor had already purged the treacherous minister, making vigilance no longer necessary.
All of it was merely scholars and literati taking fragmentary news, filling in the blanks in their heads, and parsing out their own "profound insights."
If they were wrong, they would act as if nothing had happened.
If they were right, they would be hailed as possessing foresight, earning themselves a fine reputation.
Yet while the speakers spoke idly, the listeners took it to heart.
For a time, rumors flooded every street and alley of Di'an. Yet it was precisely these rumors that dispelled much of the suffocating, somber oppression that had hung over the capital.
Naturally, those were merely the perspectives of the common folk.
The somber tension in the imperial capital had indeed dissipated considerably, but in reality, it was because the city's wealthy merchants, tycoons, and small-to-mid-tier prominent clans had received definite news from the imperial court.
Though the Immortal-Calming Tax Law was a disastrous national policy, at the very least, the other shoe had finally dropped; the bad news was out.
Ever since the Imperial Guard sealed the city at the start of autumn, they had been the most anxious people inside the walls.
Unlike the imperial nobility and aristocrats, these wealthy merchants and modest clans lacked the standing to place their bets at the table in advance. If they wished to become "people with lines to Heaven," they had no channels through which to pledge allegiance or attach themselves to the powerful. Yet the wealth and influence they did possess allowed them to know far more than the commoners below.
This was truly despairing.
What people feared most was the unknown.
And what a faction feared most was a sudden shift in national policy.
So long as the court ministers had not finalized the national policy, no one dared to make a rash move. Now that the die was cast, the hearts that had hung in suspense finally settled back into their chests.
Since the clouds of war were now unavoidable, all that remained was for everyone to rely on their own ability to hedge against risk. Furthermore, as the imperial capital, Di'an would likely remain a relatively safe haven in Great Yan for a long time to come.
Yet just as they were thinking this over these days, news from the Imperial City Bureau plunged them once more into panic and unease.
North of the city, the Second Prince had led his troops into the capital.
***
The moon shone bright and the stars were sparse.
Throughout these two weeks, Xu Yuan had stayed inside the Moyin Pavilion, reviewing the memorials that drifted in like snowflakes from every corner of the realm.
Most were matters concerning the Immortal-Calming Tax Law.
Though the letter and memorial he had presented in the court that day bore the title of the Immortal-Calming Tax Law, they contained little concrete detail, merely setting forth the necessity of passing the immortal tax from both macroscopic and microscopic angles.
If the Immortal-Calming Tax Law was a bullet, Xu Yuan had merely been the one to pull the trigger.
The true Immortal-Calming Tax Law was an immense system, gradually perfected over decades under his father's leadership.
Its written texts totaled well over a million words, encompassing hundreds of new laws, thousands of new regulations, all manner of guiding directives, implementation timelines, and contingency plans for thousands of emergencies.
Moreover:
There were two versions, internal and external, one hollow and one substantive.
The hollow, outward version detailed the public execution of the immortal tax, premised on the assumption that the sects would cooperate.
The substantive, inward version focused primarily on war preparations, premised on the assumption that the sects would raise armies in rebellion.
The room was silent. An inscribed lamp cast a cold, faint glow. Having finished the final dossier on his desk, Xu Yuan leaned back against his chair, his brow furrowed, and gently rubbed his throbbing temples. Recalling the contents of the memorials over these past days, he let out a soft sigh.
If he had to use a single word to describe his evaluation of the new law's implementation, "chaos" was undoubtedly the most fitting.
Before troops move, fodder and provisions must go first.
Even with every preparation in place, the moment execution actually began, hundreds and thousands of problems erupted all at once.
Knowledge gained on paper is shallow after all.
Depleted granaries, collapsed ore veins, martial academies unable to mobilize enough martial apprentices, herb and spirit-stone production falling short, and so on and so forth...
Just transitioning into wartime readiness had spawned enough localized turmoil to make Xu Yuan feel suffocated. If fighting actually commenced, he dared not imagine what depths of pandemonium would ensue.
The only silver lining was that this turmoil remained within the Chancellor's Manor's acceptable parameters. Or rather, the minds that drafted the Immortal-Calming Tax Law had already anticipated such incidents below, deliberately building in a substantial margin of leeway.
Taking a deep breath, Xu Yuan laughed out of sheer exasperation as he mulled over these absurdities.
"These worms really should all be dragged outside and beheaded."
"If you kill them, there won't be anyone left to work for you."
A seductive voice drifted in from outside the top floor of the Moyin Pavilion.
Xu Yuan opened his eyes as Lou Ji pushed open the door and entered.
Tonight she wore a plain white robe, though she retained her habit of skimping on fabric; the pristine, ethereal white contrasted against this older woman's demeanor to forge a distinct, alluring charm.
Stepping up to the desk, Lou Ji smiled with curved eyes and raised her hand.
Then—
*Thud!*
With a dull thud, more than a dozen two-foot-high stacks of dossiers were piled once more onto the desk Xu Yuan had just cleared.
Lou Ji said with a beaming smile, "The latest dispatches from the Black Scale Guard. Big Sister already reviewed them for you, so take a good look yourself."
Xu Yuan reflexively swallowed. "This much again?"
Lou Ji shrugged, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Hua Hong reportedly has an entire room stacked full over on his side, and he plans to send it all over to you tomorrow."
*Does paper really cost nothing to you people?*
Grumbling inwardly, Xu Yuan pulled himself together once more, preparing to begin another round of study.
Flipping open a random dossier, Xu Yuan's head began to throb as soon as he read the incident inside, confirming once more the flaws in the Prime Minister's Manor's administrative system.
In a village under Tianshui County, Pinglin Commandery, Guanghuai Province, clan elders led a mob to cause a disturbance and block the autumn harvest convoy. Shouldn't village officials handle such an incident and report it to the county seat, and that would be the end of it?
If it involved military, political, or major commercial affairs, fair enough, but trivial matters like this were being sent straight to the imperial capital?
Did this make any sense?
Xu Yuan read halfway through and instinctively wanted to say something to Lou Ji, but ultimately held his tongue. No matter how flawed the "monarch-centered system" established by his old man was, it was impossible to overhaul it on the brink of war. Everything would have to wait until this war concluded.
Steeling himself to keep reading, he caught sight of Lou Ji pulling up a chair nearby with no apparent intention of leaving immediately. Splitting his attention, Xu Yuan asked, "How are things on my father's side?"
After returning from the Northern Hunt, Xu Yinhe had directly entered seclusion in a secret chamber within the Chancellor's Manor's subterranean Black Prison. At that time, Xu Yuan was still in the chest-bound princess's bedchamber reminiscing and discussing the realm over warm wine, missing his father completely.
And once the old man went into seclusion, half a month passed without a single word emerging.
Lou Ji shook her head. "I don't know."
Hearing this, Xu Yuan's fingers clenched slightly.
There was a gaping intelligence void within the Chancellor's Manor regarding what had transpired during the Northern Hunt. Though the Black Scale Guard had planted spies within Li Zhaoyuan's Wugui Army, their rank was too low; they only knew that battle had erupted, not the specific details.
He suspected that during the battle, his old man had undone part of his sealing secret arts and caught the eye of that thing in the heavens once more.
Sensing Xu Yuan's worry, Lou Ji said gently, "Changtian, you don't need to worry about your father. Besides, I saw him that day, and he shouldn't be in any serious danger."
Xu Yuan did not explain the matter to Lou Ji either, as knowing would not enable her to help. Instead, he shifted the topic: "All right. Sister, you've been so busy lately, yet you're lingering here—you must have something to tell me, right?"
Among the core leadership of the Prime Minister's Manor, Lou Ji and Hua Hong were the closest to him, both delivering dossiers in person. But during this critical period, the burdens on Lou Ji and Hua Hong were heavy. Xu Yuan merely needed to review documents, whereas they had to make decisions guiding the manor's path forward. Thus, under normal circumstances, after dropping off the dossiers, exchanging a few teasing remarks or words of care and encouragement, they would depart immediately.
Hearing this, Lou Ji sat up slightly, twirling a strand of her long hair with a slender finger. "Changtian, today I received some news regarding the Northern Hunt."
"The Northern Hunt?" Xu Yuan murmured, looking up. "The Imperial Preceptor?"
Because his old man was in seclusion, three mysteries remained unresolved within the Prime Minister's Manor regarding the Northern Hunt:
How the Emperor would respond to Xu Yuan forcefully pushing through the immortal tax law;
Whether the Chancellor was injured;
And whether the Imperial Preceptor was dead or alive.
The answer to the first had been resolved on the very day of the Northern Hunt: the Emperor withdrew the Imperial Guard surrounding the capital and issued no edict overturning the decree, which amounted to holding his nose and accepting the covenant.
As for the second, the Chancellor had stated in person that he was fine, but entering seclusion for half a month inevitably aroused suspicion.
As for the last...
Aside from the secluded Prime Minister, the manor had no other channel to obtain information—after all, they could hardly ask the Emperor himself directly, could they?
Pondering for an instant, Xu Yuan reacted swiftly: "News from the sects' side?"
"Mhm." Lou Ji nodded, weighing her words for a moment. "Given the Imperial Preceptor's cultivation, ten days would have been more than enough for him to return to the Tianyuan Mountain Range from the capital region. Yet half a month has passed with no word of his return to the sect. Moreover, taking into account the reports sent back by the Black Scale Guard's moles inside the Sect Alliance, the Imperial Preceptor seems to have already..."
At this point, Lou Ji fixed her purple eyes on the young man behind the desk and did not continue.
Sandalwood incense drifted lazily upward into a momentary silence.
Xu Yuan parted his lips, his eyes wavering, before he finally sighed. "I understand. Is there anything else?"
As a pillar of the Prime Minister's Manor, Lou Ji was very pleased with Xu Yuan's composed reaction, but on a personal level she was still somewhat worried. Yet she did not voice it, merely continuing, "Changtian, didn't you ask me earlier to keep an eye on the rumors among the common folk?"
"Any progress?"
Recalling briefly, Xu Yuan realized this was an instruction he had given Lou Ji upon his return to the capital.
Because extraordinary powers existed in this world, the dynasty never cared much about propaganda or public opinion among the common mortals at the bottom. Its management of public opinion was a crude, heavy-handed routine of indoctrination and "boundless imperial grace"—whatever happened under heaven, the Emperor could never be in the wrong, and if people were alive, they owed their gratitude to the sovereign.
Consequently, over the past few decades, every chamber pot of blame had essentially been dumped on the Chancellor's Manor, with cries of "treacherous minister" and "corrupt chancellor" echoing unceasingly.
In years of abundance, people thanked the Emperor's grace; in years of disaster, they cursed the Prime Minister for throwing the realm into chaos.
Whether natural disaster or man-made catastrophe, cursing the Prime Minister was never wrong.
With these thoughts in mind, Xu Yuan set down the dossier and spoke earnestly: "In years past, letting them curse us was one thing. But with war on the horizon, if the Prime Minister's Manor continues to hold such a reputation among the realm's commoners, many things will be hamstrung."
Lou Ji pondered briefly and replied, "I discussed this with Zong Qingsheng and the others. There's no need to strain relations between the imperial family and the Prime Minister over this."
"You mean this is part of the transaction with the imperial family?"
"Not quite a transaction; call it a tacit understanding."
"Is that so..."
Xu Yuan murmured. After a brief pause, he pushed the dossier he had just read forward and asked, "Sister, what do you make of our Xu family's grain-collection convoy being besieged by the local clan elders and their mob?"
Lou Ji glanced at it and answered without hesitation: "A violent suppression will suffice. The realm's commoners fear might rather than revere virtue; in the end, it cannot sway the greater situation."
*Fearing might rather than revering virtue...*
Xu Yuan fell silent.
The fundamental reality of this world was that violence dictated everything, and mortal men could never resist extraordinary violence. Hence, dynasties throughout history had governed primarily through might rather than virtue.
Yet after a moment's consideration, Xu Yuan still asked, "What if I insist on it?"
Lou Ji rolled her eyes and said crossly, "If you insist, then we can only carry it out."
"..."
Having already prepared himself to be rejected, Xu Yuan was caught off guard.
Lou Ji said earnestly, "Your father said that during his seclusion, all matters outside of military affairs are for you to decide. But remember, Changtian, this is out of respect for your father. Without him, your prestige alone wouldn't be enough to convince everyone."
At that, Lou Ji changed her tone and giggled, "Though of course, Big Sister will always take your side~"
Hearing her playful words, Xu Yuan felt a tangle of complex emotions.
He finally understood why his old man had been so eager for him to achieve merits and establish authority. Without feats that commanded respect, anything he wished to do would never leave this Moyin Pavilion if the manor's ministers vetoed it.
If this was true for a minor matter of public sentiment, what of momentous affairs like the military or treasury?
He also suddenly grasped why certain emperors would rather trust flatterers and sycophants over the wise and virtuous: simple obedience alone was enough to elevate sycophants to lofty positions.
If in the future he became the master of the Prime Minister's Manor without having accumulated sufficient prestige, he would most likely have to resort to cronyism as well, perhaps even expanding the authority of confidants like Lou Ji and sending the Black Scale Guard to supervise the army.
His thoughts flickered, and Xu Yuan gave a slight nod. "Then let's implement it."
"May I ask for your reasoning?" Lou Ji asked with a smile.
Her question was not an interrogation, but born of concern.
This public sentiment policy was effectively Xu Yuan's very first state-level decree since taking up his role of "supervising the state." While it would not consume many resources from the Prime Minister's Manor, and doing it was harmless enough, a failure would nevertheless harm his standing within the manor.
Xu Yuan had not overthought it, nor did he hide anything: "As long as cultivators exist, the common folk can never sway the grand picture on a macro level, yet they can transmit influence layer by layer on a micro level. If we possess the people's hearts, then military rations, taxes, and even intelligence on enemy formations—it all adds up. With war imminent, one should never dismiss a deed simply because it is small."
Listening attentively, Lou Ji had counterarguments, but kept them to herself.
When the Prime Minister's Manor deployed troops, it naturally did so in the court's name.
How could ordinary commoners tell the difference between royal armies?
Furthermore, all those problems could be resolved through the violence cultivators possessed: a sweep of an intent soul would reveal any trace of an enemy formation, and a single illusion technique would have a mortal reciting their entire genealogy.
Yet on second thought, Changtian was not entirely wrong.
If they won the hearts of the people, they could focus all their energy on the battlefield. Besides, usurping the realm in the future would be far more justified and legitimate...
Having settled on proper justifications and thought through what to say to shoulder the blame for Changtian if this policy failed, Lou Ji stood up from her chair.
"All right, Big Sister will arrange this. Do you have anything else?"
Xu Yuan thought for a moment and suddenly asked, "Sister, who oversees the Wenshu Courtyard?"
The Wenshu Courtyard was effectively the Prime Minister's Manor's Directorate of Ceremonial, overseeing the reporting of all dossiers and the manor's internal affairs.
"Zhou Xianlin," Lou Ji replied casually with the name of a senior official.
Over these past days, Xu Yuan had grown familiar with these high-ranking officials. Recalling the man's record, he said, "Bai Muxi has already broken through to the Origin Realm. Arrange for her to enter the Wenshu Courtyard as an accountant."
Lou Ji gave Xu Yuan a sidelong glance, remaining silent.
Seeing this, Xu Yuan sighed. "Not possible?"
"Hmph." Lou Ji let out a tart snort.
Placing his personal attendant into the Prime Minister's Manor's internal affairs headquarters—wasn't that blatantly aiming to seize the man's authority?
"Take that up with your father. The Wenshu Courtyard isn't under Big Sister's charge."
"I see." Xu Yuan nodded, his expression unperturbed.
These days of "supervising the state" had given him ideas about planting confidants into key organs of the Prime Minister's Manor, but it seemed the time was clearly not ripe.
Observing Xu Yuan's expression, Lou Ji thought for a moment and added, "However, Changtian, if you're willing, you could send that Bewitching Soul Fiend Physique girl named Su Jinxuan over to me. I'm quite fond of her."
The meaning was obvious: the Black Scale Guard wasn't afraid of him seizing power, so send her over for Big Sister to train.
Xu Yuan shook his head and declined, "She's currently helping the Feng family's little girl; we'll discuss it another time."
Seeing this, Lou Ji pressed no further on the matter. Seeming to recall something, she said, "By the way, Li Zhaoyuan entered the city today. Did you know?"
Xu Yuan nodded. "I received the news yesterday."
Lou Ji blinked at him and asked, "Any thoughts?"
Xu Yuan's expression sobered. "As a crown prince, he will be troublesome to deal with, but he is qualified to become a future partner for the Prime Minister's Manor."
After speaking with Li Qingyan in the palace that day, he had already deduced that Li Zhaoyuan would likely become the next emperor.
Lou Ji looked deeply at Xu Yuan and advised, "Changtian, certain things..."
"I know." The corners of Xu Yuan's lips curved faintly as he gently cut her off. "Though I dislike this prince, sitting in this position leaves me little room for personal feelings."
"...Good that you know. Big Sister is leaving now?"
"If you want to stay and read dossiers with me, you're welcome to."
"Forget it, Big Sister is busy to death."
Lou Ji waved with a beaming smile, making a playful gesture from afar as if ruffling Xu Yuan's hair, and strode toward the door.
Right at that moment,
a faint whistling sound of rushing air came from outside the door.
Lou Ji's willow-graceful steps paused slightly. She reflexively glanced back at Xu Yuan's expression, only to see him as impassive as ever, betraying neither joy nor anger. He merely set down the dossier calmly and rose from behind the desk.
Moments later,
the newcomer landed in the corridor before the door, and Bai Muxi's voice carried in from outside:
"Young Master, the Second Prince is outside the manor, requesting an audience."
Moonlight streamed into the room; silence reigned for a breath.
"You're going to see him?"
"He came to my door of his own accord. Why wouldn't I?"
Chapter 741