The Child Emperor

Life in the Capital continued beyond just the struggle for the throne. Officials still had to attend court, common people still had to make a living. Throughout winter, babies were still born and the elderly still passed away.

In the middle of January, Princess Hengyang died at home. There were various accounts of her death – some said she died in a fit of rage after a meal, while others claimed she died from excessive laughter.

As the Martial Emperor’s sister, Princess Hengyang had built up considerable influence around the Chai family. Her death was a significant event for the court.

In early February, the Chai family held her funeral. Given her royal status, she would not be buried in the Chai family tomb but rather in the imperial mausoleum to rest with her father and brother.

The funeral was grand and elaborate, lasting an entire day. Decorated canopies lined the route from inside the city to outside, drawing countless spectators – rivaling the Lantern Festival crowds. All the nobles and officials of the Capital came to pay respects, and Weary Marquis Han Ruzi was no exception.

These social obligations were not up to Han Ruzi himself – the Ministry of Rites and the Bureau of Imperial Clan Affairs made the arrangements. Though there was no palace approval, adding some complications, the proper ceremonies could not be omitted. Since there was no imperial edict, everything proceeded according to custom.

The Weary Marquis’s household contributed money and effort, setting up canopies along the funeral route. Han Ruzi had not wanted to attend personally, as Princess Hengyang had despised him deeply. There were rumors that whether she died from extreme joy or anger, it had something to do with the Weary Marquis.

Yang Feng advised him to make an appearance as a gesture of reconciliation, saying that someone aspiring to be emperor should minimize personal grudges. Even if they couldn’t be fully resolved, others should see that the fault did not lie with the Weary Marquis.

Han Ruzi didn’t need to participate in the entire funeral procession – he only needed to show his face from his household’s canopy when the procession passed by, not even having to step down from his sedan chair.

The Chai family had many sons and grandsons – those imprisoned in Shattered Iron City were only a small portion. Many remained in the Capital. The procession was magnificent, and whatever their true feelings, the ceremonial proprieties had to be maintained. Since the Weary Marquis made an appearance, Marquis Hengyang and his eldest son had to come pay their respects.

They were fellow marquises, but Han Ruzi was a prince, so he could return their greeting from his sedan chair. With the curtain raised, Han Ruzi only needed to show his face while Yang Feng handled everything else.

For Marquis Hengyang, who wasn’t likely to outlive the princess, this was truly a hard-won victory. His expression of grief was perfectly measured. After conferring with Yang Feng at length, he appeared very moved and kowtowed with his son to thank the Weary Marquis.

This scene was clearly visible to the funeral procession and onlookers. Soon word spread that the Weary Marquis had ordered the release of prisoners from Shattered Iron City, and those imprisoned “Chai family members” would soon return to the Capital.

This was Yang Feng’s idea. His reasoning was simple: “A gentleman can wait ten years for revenge, but an emperor can wait indefinitely. Even if we can’t resolve the Chai family’s grudge, we should reduce outside suspicions.”

Han Ruzi agreed. He didn’t care about the Chai family – though they were always scheming, he had never considered them equal adversaries.

As the crowd followed the funeral procession, several people came against the flow to pay respects to the Weary Marquis. They presented their calling cards, exchanged courtesies, spoke briefly with Yang Feng, then took their leave. These visitors were special – all had relatives imprisoned in Shattered Iron City who were now being released.

Just as it seemed no one else would come and Han Ruzi was about to order his sedan chair to return home, Yang Feng brought one more visitor.

Qu Zixi, the professor from the College of National Scions, had arrived at some point. He had no connection to the Chai family and his low rank didn’t even qualify him to attend the funeral – he had come specifically to see the Weary Marquis.

Han Ruzi wanted to step down to meet him, but Yang Feng indicated it wasn’t necessary.

Qu Zixi approached the sedan chair and got straight to the point: “There are indeed rumors from the Western Regions, and in recent years fewer and fewer tribute missions have come from the west – last year only three remained. I also met with the Xiongnu envoys. The Weary Marquis’s claims have supporting evidence.”

During their last “confrontation,” Han Ruzi had claimed that Great Chu faced a major threat from the west and needed a new emperor capable of averting disaster. Qu Zixi had indeed investigated, but his view differed from the Weary Marquis’s: “The far western lands are not civilized states. Changes of dynasty are common there. Talk of attacking Great Chu is just temporary bluster, not to be taken seriously.”

“Is it also common for such dynastic changes to force the Western Xiongnu to migrate east?” Han Ruzi was fully alert upon seeing Qu Zixi, not wanting to lose the verbal exchange.

But Qu Zixi hadn’t come to argue today. He smiled and said: “There is one matter, not in the far west but within Great Chu’s borders, not years or decades away but right before us, pressing and urgent. If the Weary Marquis can resolve it, the people will benefit and scholars will gratefully bow in thanks.” ṚÅɴỌʙĚṥ

Han Ruzi glanced at Yang Feng and smiled. “Please continue.”

Qu Zixi coughed once. “In recent years natural disasters have been constant, leaving people destitute. Many abandon their homes to wander as vagrants or bandits. Because the court has not issued edicts, even though local offices have surplus grain, they refuse to open granaries for relief – like watching a fire without helping. If the Weary Marquis could get all prefectures to open their granaries and distribute grain, it would be an even greater achievement than stopping the Xiongnu.”

Han Ruzi was stunned. He had discussed this with Zhuo Ruhe, the Governor of Hongnong. Officials refused to open granaries for disaster relief firstly because there was no imperial edict, and secondly because they needed to stockpile grain for court requisitions. The reasons were complex. Unless the Empress Dowager and Emperor resumed governing and issued direct orders, this deadlock of having grain but being unable to use it could not be resolved.

The scholars wouldn’t support the Weary Marquis’s bid for the throne, yet made demands of him at an “imperial” level.

Qu Zixi truly hadn’t come to debate today. Without waiting for the Weary Marquis’s response, he bowed and departed.

Back at his residence, Han Ruzi asked Yang Feng: “What does Qu Zixi mean?”

“This is a test. You compared yourself to a fertile field and a great ship – now is the time to prove it.”

“Doesn’t he think I’m too clever?” Han Ruzi didn’t have a very good impression of scholars.

“The Weary Marquis should be pleased – it means you’ve convinced Qu Zixi that Great Chu needs an emperor of restoration, not a mediocre ruler.”

“But his conditions are impossible to meet unless I become emperor first.”

“We must try. Marquis, the scholars’ support is very important.”

Han Ruzi thought for a moment. “Alright, we’ll try. I’m doing this because I trust you. I value the scholars greatly, but I truly don’t see what use they are right now.”

“Patience – their usefulness will become apparent.”

Yang Feng’s attitude of knowing everything but revealing only bits and pieces could make one furious. Han Ruzi could only respond with a bitter smile. Some of Yang Feng’s methods were similar to the fate seers – he just hoped this eunuch truly had substance behind his mystique, rather than just putting on airs and “going with the flow” like the fate seers.

“Do you have any ideas how to proceed, Lord Yang?”

“That’s for the Weary Marquis to determine. I’ll handle the legwork.”

Han Ruzi was increasingly caught between laughter and tears. At this crucial moment in seizing the throne, Yang Feng had led him into the wilderness, always saying there would be a road behind the mountain, but he had yet to see it. He could only continue the arduous climb up unknown peaks.

“If I ask for Qu Zixi’s help, would he agree?”

“As long as it’s within their ability, I can persuade them to agree.”

Quick wit was useless here. Han Ruzi thought for a while and said: “No good. I might be able to get a few prefectures to open their granaries, but I can’t make all regions comply. Let me think more about this.”

Yang Feng took his leave – he rarely stayed at the residence during the day, usually busy running errands.

After lunch, Prince Donghai came again. He was like an official of the Weary Marquis’s household, visiting daily. The steward and gatekeepers no longer announced him, letting him come and go freely.

“Princess Hengyang died at just the right time.” Prince Donghai was very pleased. He had also attended the funeral that morning. “Without that old woman, the Chai family is nothing to fear. I saw Marquis Hengyang and his son pay respects to you – they came out looking happy. They dare not provoke you anymore.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing.” Han Ruzi knew very well that all royal clan members and nobles thought alike: hedging their bets and watching from the sidelines. Until an emperor was enthroned, they wouldn’t truly be loyal to anyone.

“A scholar also came to see you – what was that about?” Prince Donghai had to know Han Ruzi’s every move.

Han Ruzi didn’t hide anything and related Qu Zixi’s demands, finally saying: “You said the Capital is your battlefield – help me think of a solution.”

“So that was Qu Zixi. He’s clearly putting the cart before the horse – asking you to act like an emperor before you become one.”

“That’s what I said too, but Yang Feng thinks it’s necessary to win the scholars’ support. This Qu Zixi and Guo Cong are supposedly leaders among scholars, with great reputations.”

“That’s true, especially Qu Zixi. Though his rank is low, he loves to give commentary on others. A few words from him can make someone’s reputation soar or plummet. In my opinion, he’s a pest in the court. Throw him in prison and give him a few dozen beatings daily – see who dares to be so arrogant then!”

Han Ruzi laughed. “That’s also something that can only be done after becoming emperor. Regardless, Qu Zixi and Guo Cong influence the scholars, and scholars influence court officials – worth winning over.”

“Don’t overestimate the scholars’ abilities. Their influence over ministers might be even weaker than the Tan family’s.” Prince Donghai thought for a moment. “Have you considered that Yang Feng might be deliberately leading you astray?”

“Why?”

“For the Champion Marquis!”

Han Ruzi shook his head. “I doubt I’m that important in the Champion Marquis’s eyes.”

Prince Donghai shrugged – he couldn’t think of a solution either. “You couldn’t even convince Han Xing to recruit vagrants into the army. Getting local officials to open granaries is even more impossible. I suggest you give up, or just make a token effort. How many of your retainers have returned?”

“I won’t contact them unless absolutely necessary, so I don’t know how many. According to plans, they won’t all gather until after mid-March.”

“True enough – the Capital has many eyes. Even if you meet a fly, someone will report it.”

“How are the Guanghua Tigers doing?”

“The Tan family has convinced two tigers and is arranging for them to meet with us. It should be settled in a few days. This is a secret meeting – don’t tell anyone, especially Yang Feng. Just inform him afterward.”

“Mm.” Han Ruzi stood up and looked closely at Prince Donghai. “You seem to have an injury at the corner of your eye.”

Prince Donghai’s expression changed and he stammered: “What injury? Maybe I bumped into something. I didn’t even notice.”

Just as things grew awkward, the steward reported that Marquis Piyuan Zhang Yin requested an audience with the Weary Marquis.

Zhang Yanghao, Marquis Piyuan’s eldest grandson, was one of the few still imprisoned in Shattered Iron City who hadn’t been released. Zhang Yin had apparently come to plead for his grandson – he was the first noble or high official to pay a visit.

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