One great advantage of strongman politics was that the supreme leader's will could be enacted directly, free from the hindrance of competing factions—even when the decree completely defied past rituals.
With the issuance of the testamentary edict, and with the third son of the Prime Minister calmly receiving his conferment, the fact that the Great Yan Dynasty was about to welcome the first prince of a different surname in its history swiftly spread across the realm through the machinations of the court's propaganda apparatus.
By custom, a throng of officials should have leaped forward at such a moment to remonstrate that this violated precedent and ritual. Yet in reality, aside from a handful of pedantic scholars, the court ministers demonstrated profound consensus and approval on the matter.
Ever since the former emperor passed away and the Chancellor went missing, the two "new sovereigns" who held actual control over the court had maintained utter silence toward one another. The tension bred by this silence was maddening; had it dragged on any longer, the ministers might have wound up on their knees, begging the pair to communicate.
Now that the testamentary edict had been made public, a heavy stone was lifted from their chests.
Regardless of the differences between the two new masters regarding their future designs, at this moment they had chosen to continue the cooperation forged by the previous generation of emperor and chancellor. Yet as discerning minds examined the imperial proclamation again and again, several troubling signs gradually caught the attention of the high nobility.
Bestowing the Nine Bestowments and a host of honors was the supreme glory for ordinary subjects, but for the Xu clan, these were purely dispensable vanities.
Granting the right to open an office and establish three bureaus was even more of an absurdity.
The administrative system of the Prime Minister's Manor had long penetrated every capillary of the realm. Even without granting him an autonomous office, would the court ever dare invoke imperial authority to forcibly disband such a behemoth?
The only genuinely noteworthy concession was that unprecedented title of prince of a different surname in the history of Great Yan. With this princely rank, Xu Changtian could smoothly inherit Xu Yinhe's political legacy and preserve the Prime Minister's influence in the court. Yet a princely rank was merely a title; compared to the former office of Prime Minister, it carried no executive authority to oversee the realm's governance.
In exchange for this princely title—a promotion in name, but a demotion in fact—the price paid by the Xu family seemed excessively steep.
*Supervise the Black Scales.*
Four inconspicuous words at the very end of the edict.
Yet they signified that the new emperor intended to take his first steps toward intervening in the Black Scale Army, the Xu family's private forces. Crucially, the new head of the Xu family had actually assented, consenting to harm his family's foundation in order to broker this initial cooperation between the court's two new rulers.
Was this selfless dedication to the common good?
Or had he simply bent the knee?
There were so many questionable points in this first contest between the two new masters that numerous ministers believed additional agreements had been struck behind closed doors. In truth, however, even the new sovereign of Great Yan inside the Palace City had never anticipated that Xu Yuan would directly agree to that decree.
Politics was an art of compromise, a mutual probing of give and take, an exchange of interests no different from haggling between old fishwives in a street market. Yet that fellow Xu Yuan had accepted his outrageous asking price without bargaining in the slightest.
Li Zhaoyuan could not fathom the other man's intent. But whatever the motive, whatever scheme Xu Yuan harbored, Li Zhaoyuan—a prince who had clawed his way up from hell to the summit—would face it head-on.
Time slipped by.
The period of mourning for the late emperor was drawing to an end. In this turbulent age, life was difficult across the entire realm, from the new emperor down to the common folk.
It had been a little over two months since his father departed. Lately, whenever Li Zhaoyuan found a spare moment, he often stared blankly at the towering imperial palace atop the mountain, as if that man still sat upon the cold dragon throne, gazing down at him with detachment.
The closer his coronation drew, the more tangible that scrutiny felt. Li Zhaoyuan knew it was an illusion, yet he could not help but dwell on certain matters.
His imperial father.
Himself.
His ideals.
Li Zhaoyuan wanted to break free from the shackles the late emperor had placed upon him and forge a future of his own. Yet when he turned it over in his mind, he realized the only thing he had left was the power in his hands.
In a sense, his imperial father had defeated him, and defeated him utterly. Even in death, his father kept him as a pawn. He had failed to break free from those chains in the end, becoming precisely what his father had always wanted him to be.
Suddenly, a rustle of hurried footsteps shattered Li Zhaoyuan's contemplation. The candlelight in the deep corridor outside the hall flickered as a figure approached, stopping just outside the doors. A deferential voice drifted in:
"Your Highness."
"Enter."
The doors swung open. A purple-robed eunuch bowed his head and edged into the hall with great care, prostrating himself.
"At Your Highness's command, this servant investigated spies within the Palace City and discovered signs of covert activity near Kunning Palace."
"The Empress Dowager?"
With Li Yaoxuan's death, Empress Mu had naturally become the Empress Dowager.
Li Zhaoyuan did not pay it much mind. Pulling his gaze away from the mountain peak, he asked in a neutral voice, "Does she intend to cause trouble during our coronation and ascension ceremony?"
According to the rites of Great Yan, the grand coronation could not bypass the Empress Dowager, the former Mother of the Realm. But rites were made by men. Before absolute power, protocol was nothing more than a plaything. If Empress Mu truly dared to scheme around the ceremony, the only result would be that woman's dignity trampled underfoot once more.
The purple-robed eunuch shook his head gently. "The Empress Dowager has had contact with someone outside the palace."
"Someone outside the palace?"
Hearing this, Li Zhaoyuan raised an eyebrow from his impassive expression and glanced in the direction of the Chancellor's Manor. "The only person with the reach to stretch into the Palace City seems to be that fellow. Would he truly have the leisure at such a time to contact a powerless Empress Dowager? Have you uncovered what he wants?"
The purple-robed eunuch hesitated a moment. "The moment we traced the source, the spy committed suicide."
"Useless."
*Thud.*
The eunuch knocked his forehead against the icy floor. "This servant deserves death."
Li Zhaoyuan pondered for a moment before asking, "Has there been any word from the Prime Minister's Manor of late?"
The purple-robed eunuch hesitated slightly. "Before the period of mourning for the late emperor had even concluded, the Prime Minister's Manor took down the white silk mourning banners ahead of time."
Unsurprised, Li Zhaoyuan muttered, "It seems Chancellor Xu truly is gone. What else?"
"Everything remains as before." The purple-robed eunuch chose his words carefully. "To consolidate Chancellor Xu's authority, that Xu Changtian has continuously summoned prominent ministers of the Chancellor's faction to the capital over the past month."
"..."
At this, Li Zhaoyuan lightly tapped his fingertips against the desk, his dark eyes gleaming under the candle's reflection as he fell into thought.
Xu Changtian should have faced a predicament no different from his own.
The transition of power did not happen overnight, nor was everything settled the moment one took the throne. Loyalty to the sovereign and love for the country were mere slogans to officials standing among the clouds. They possessed loyalty to the imperial clan, of course, but it stemmed mostly from the entanglement of self-interest.
To replicate the authority of the previous generation, one could only reinforce one's prestige step by step—through decree after decree, affair after affair, victory after victory.
If this was true for the imperial clan, it should hold true for the Xu family as well.
Yet whether it was the Black Scale Army abandoning northern Hongnong outright or the new master of the Xu family agreeing to that unequal edict conferring princely rank, every event pointed to an anomaly.
The major affairs orchestrated by Xu Yuan since his ascent were all grave decisions that harmed the interests of the Prime Minister's Manor and even shook its foundations.
Faced with such preposterous conduct from their new master, the Xu family's retainers could not possibly have acquiesced. Yet Xu Yuan had carried these decisions through, and imperial spies had failed to detect a single dissenting voice within the Prime Minister's Manor.
And there was only one possible explanation for such a reality—
The new master of the Xu family
had already consolidated total authority over the Prime Minister's Manor within the span of a single month.
Rising in the dead silence of the long night, Li Zhaoyuan walked to the window lattice. Looking past the boundless darkness outside, he gazed toward the faintly lit Chancellor's Manor. His dark eyes narrowed slightly as he murmured softly,
"What in the world are you after?"
Chapter 800