Lord Kong felt there was something slightly abnormal about Rong Juan’s brain.
Their Ministry of Rites had acquired a new type of illness.
For several days, Rong Juan’s mood was a complete mess. Having an official position made him feel like he had abandoned the light for darkness.
What need for an antidote?
Now, each day felt like ten, invisibly extending his life in a different way.
On another workday, Rong Juan drifted in like a ghost: “Good morning. I am now a centenarian.”
Not counting the core officials, the Ministry of Rites had over forty people in total. Almost everyone was present, and seeing Rong Juan arrive right on time, they just looked up once and said nothing.
It had been like this since Rong Juan’s first day.
Except for Lord Kong, no colleague gave him a friendly face.
No one cared about their ten years of hard study, yet someone could be appointed directly. No one could feel balanced about that.
Even Rong Juan’s actions at the palace banquet were interpreted as carefully calculated, a deliberate attempt to seize the limelight.
An official named Hou Shen, who held the same position of Vice Director, even told his colleagues privately, “I am ashamed to be associated with such a scoundrel.”
Civil officials played tricks like a nine-linked ring; they wouldn’t engage in direct verbal confrontations. Their main tactic was to feign ignorance whenever Rong Juan asked about official business.
A newcomer who didn’t understand the system, without guidance, certainly couldn’t do his job.
They calculated perfectly. After a while, Lord Kong would also find it troublesome and develop a dislike.
However, Rong Juan didn’t exhaust himself at all. If he couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t do it. He started raising flowers at his desk every day.
Fragile balsam flowers.
Like their name, they were hard to raise.
“The phoenix bird has not arrived for a long time, the flower branch is empty of its name…”
There was no air conditioning in this era. In the sweltering summer, everyone was busy working.
Turning around to see a weirdo reciting poetry and tasting tea, those with short tempers almost had to visit the doctor on the next street.
In the morning, people from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices came.
The Court of Imperial Sacrifices oversaw sacrificial rituals and often attended to the royal family. The officials there had extensive connections, and their overall power exceeded that of the Ministry of Rites.
Lord Kong wasn’t there today. The others retreated quickly, leaving Rong Juan invisibly bearing the brunt.
Slap.
The official from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices threw the document drafted by the Ministry of Rites a few days ago onto the table, blowing his beard and staring: “Look at what you’ve written! Didn’t I tell you before to…”
Rong Juan had an impression of this draft. It seemed Hou Shen was the main writer. It had been submitted three times, revised according to the Court of Imperial Sacrifices’ requirements each time.
The result was that a higher-level official disapproved, and the other party immediately turned hostile, asking why they had written it this way.
Colleagues cast gloating glances. Such things were common; one could only suffer in silence. Arguing would result in being sprayed like something on the roadside.
Looking at the arrogant middle-aged man in front of him, Rong Juan calmly put down the hand pruning the flower branch and slowly uttered five words: “My dad is Rong Chenglin.”
“…”
The official from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices froze: “You are…”
Just as he wanted to scold, “What are you saying?” he suddenly realized the power represented by this name. The words choked back in his throat.
Finally, under Rong Juan’s faint smile, the official inexplicably felt a bit cowardly. Hastily dropping a “Revise it again,” he ran away.
At noon, people from the Ministry of War came.
Rong Juan: “My sworn brother is Xie Yanzhou.”
“If you think there’s a problem, I’ll ask him to give some pointers for modification.”
Ministry of War official: “…”
In the afternoon, people from the Ministry of Revenue came.
Rong Juan: “My godfather is the Chief Superintendent, the Chief Superintendent who specializes in opening accounts (investigating/raiding homes) for people.”
Ministry of Revenue official: “…”
Those whom others feared and avoided, Rong Juan ignored completely.
“Do I need to avoid their sharpness?”
A colleague whispered to Hou Shen during lunch, “Actually, it’s quite good to have him here as a mascot.”
Hou Shen pursed his lips and didn’t deny it.
By doing nothing, Rong Juan abruptly made himself into becoming the pillar of the Ministry of Rites.
A few days later, the pillar discovered a “tofu-dreg” project (shoddy work).
The Ministry of Rites usually got off work between 5 PM and 7 PM. That is to say, there was no fixed time.
Lord Kong replaced the function of a clock. Everyone dared to leave only after he left every day.
And Lord Kong, burning with unknown energy, often dragged on until 7 PM, occasionally even later, despite his age.
Since the other party had taken good care of him, Rong Juan asked the System to write an anonymous letter demanding to get off work on time.
The System imitated the handwriting of dozens of officials.
The content of the anonymous letter was as follows:
When do we get off work?
When do we get off work?
When do we get off work?
When do we get off work?
…
Densely packed with his resentment.
That day, Rong Juan found Lord Kong looking at him strangely. Nearing the Hour of the Rooster (5-7 PM), Lord Kong finally couldn’t help it: “Young man, if you have an opinion, raise it face to face. Why write letters?”
“…”
“Too awkward.”
“How do you think Lord Kong found out I wrote the anonymous letter?”
Finally getting off work on time, Rong Juan sat beside the privately modified racecourse in the General’s Manor, staring blankly as he asked.
Recently, amidst the mutual drugging between him and Xie Yanzhou, their relationship had invisibly drawn much closer.
Xie Yanzhou was walking Silver Whinny. The horse kept trying to get close to Rong Juan, attempting to accept his feeding.
Glancing at his unpromising beloved horse, Xie Yanzhou said indifferently, “There were no anonymous letters in the Ministry of Rites originally.”
Rong Juan understood instantly: “When I came, there were.”
The answer revealed itself. Xie Yanzhou turned to change his clothes, soaked with sweat from riding.
Bird calls came from the distance. The General’s Manor kept many precious bird species.
Rong Juan had a flash of inspiration: “Wait, can you have someone train a bird for me?”
Not to mention birds, Xie Yanzhou’s eagle training skills were top-notch. He stopped and waited for the reason.
Rong Juan said happily, “That way, in the future, for delivering draft documents, anonymous letters, and such, I can let the bird go.”
Saving him the trouble of walking.
Xie Yanzhou laughed in anger. He had never seen anyone so lazy. He resumed walking, ignoring him.
Rong Juan hurriedly chased after him: “Wait, I have another major life event.”
“Your biggest event is finding a tutor to relearn language.”
Rong Juan brought up the favor from the palace banquet: “General, the latrine in our Ministry of Rites is hard to describe. The renovation funds never come down. Can you help pull some strings to get the funds approved earlier?”
Xie Yanzhou thought he had heard wrong. He looked up for a few seconds, only seeing determination in those clear, moon-like eyes opposite him.
“You want to use my favor… to exchange for a toilet?”
Silver Whinny seemed to sense the terrifying aura under its master’s tone and silently retreated a few steps.
Rong Juan nodded heavily.
The Ministry of Rites’ latrine was struck by lightning a few years ago. It was only hastily repaired afterward, its state almost comparable to a dry pit latrine.
There was moss on the ground, which was very slippery.
The treasury was tight. Every time funds were approved, the department prioritized distributing them as allowances. Compared to a nice toilet, everyone preferred hard cash.
This made Rong Juan suffer. Once, he had an upset stomach and almost slipped in.
“The full man doesn’t know the hungry man’s… uh, the one on the horse doesn’t know the suffering of the one off the horse. You don’t know, I have to recite a mantra every time I use the toilet there.”
Otherwise, a slight carelessness would lead to a fall like a meteor.
Xie Yanzhou frowned: “What mantra?”
“Feet apart, shoulder-width, knees bent, palms hugging the abdomen.”
Rong Juan demonstrated slightly, then grief came from his heart.
“Focus on the Dantian—”
The last four words were drawn out very, very long, a wail echoing through the entire racecourse.
The air was terribly quiet.
After a long while, cracks appeared in Xie Yanzhou’s icy expression. Finally unable to hold it, he turned and left without stopping, though his shoulders seemed to twitch slightly.
At the same time, the Superintendent Bureau.
A subordinate was reporting on the recent events in the Ministry of Rites.
Rong Juan’s identity, personality change, and the various coincidences surrounding him attracted secret observation from many, and the Superintendent Bureau was no exception.
Their spies were everywhere in the capital; some were even officials. They secretly observed what everyone said and did. That pervasive chill always floated over the court like a dark cloud, detested by officials.
“Since taking office, Rong Hengsong has done only one thing: foxes exploiting the tiger’s might (bullying others by flaunting powerful connections).”
Confidential letters and such were on the Chief Superintendent’s desk. He listened absently. The secret letter contained information about Prince Ding’s rebellion not long ago.
He always felt there were issues with this rebellion case personally handled by the Prime Minister. What was that old fox Rong Chenglin plotting?
Hearing “foxes exploiting the tiger’s might,” the Chief Superintendent asked casually, “Who is the tiger?”
“You.”
The subordinate rigorously added a second later: “You guys.”
The Chief Superintendent lifted his drooping eyelids.
The subordinate instantly felt pressure and hurriedly recounted everything in detail.
After listening, the Chief Superintendent asked, “While staying at the General’s Manor, did he make any moves?”
“The General made moves. The General is busy finding craftsmen to fix his toilet.”
“…”
The subordinate asked carefully, “I don’t know if your tiger skin is more useful. These past two days, whenever Rong Hengsong met anyone, it was ‘if you have the ability, go talk to my godfather.’ Should we give a warning?”
The Chief Superintendent was silent for a moment, then laughed, “Let him be.”
Then, mentioning another important matter, his expression became serious again: “The Wurong diplomatic mission is arriving soon. The inner city must not be chaotic. Draw people from various government offices to strengthen security.”
“Yes!”
…
In the summer of the 30th year of Yongding, the Ministry of Rites’ latrine was renovated, and the whole department celebrated.
Rong Juan’s standard of living rose to a new height. Besides admiring flowers daily, he also kept a little sparrow.
No one criticized him now.
In a sense, the value this second-generation official exerted while eating, drinking, and playing was much more important than writing a few documents.
At the end of the same month, on the hottest day, the Wurong diplomatic mission arrived in the capital.
The already busy Ministry of Rites was now worked to death. Even the always gentle Lord Kong started to get irritable, coordinating everywhere almost without his feet touching the ground.
Rong Juan used to be a straight-A student. He could write a 100,000-word doctoral thesis, but writing official documents?
He couldn’t squeeze out a few words in an hour. Having transmigrated so many times, he had never done a clerical job.
He explained the situation to Lord Kong: “I haven’t undergone filing training.”
As for the System, official document formats differed across dynasties, so this history-lacker was even more useless.
“No matter. Write first. I’ll tell you the incorrect parts.”
Rong Juan believed him. Then he saw Lord Kong turn around and scold the printing official furiously: “Did you write the content involving etiquette norms with your eyes closed? There are missing words and errors; it’s total nonsense! Disgrace to literati!”
“…”
Rong Juan silently returned to his workstation.
“Brother, Brother.”
The voice was too light. Rong Juan thought there were mice and looked around.
“Brother, here.” Hou Shen, who always disliked Rong Juan, suddenly took the initiative to strike up a conversation: “I have a good place to go.”
Rong Juan looked at him with strange eyes. Wasn’t this person isolating him just a while ago?
“Call me Brother Mang (Reckless).” He wasn’t idle (xian) anymore; he just wanted to be illiterate.
Ignoring the weird response, Hou Shen asked temptingly, “Someone needs to be sent to the Diplomatic Mission Hall to check the item inventory later. Why don’t you come with me?”
Rong Juan was instantly moved.
“Don’t fall for his trick!” An official who had just hurriedly returned from the brand-new latrine, grateful for his virtue, reminded him, “You don’t know how difficult those people in the mission are to deal with.”
Rong Juan casually teased the little sparrow by his hand. The wingtip brushed his palm, tickling him.
Hearing this, Rong Juan asked casually, “Didn’t they just lose a battle?”
The official sighed three times: “Wurong originally had constant tribal conflicts, divided into South Wurong and North Wurong. Unexpectedly, after this great defeat, the North and South united. First, they destroyed some small Western Region countries. I heard they want to imitate us and establish a state name, calling themselves Yue.”
If it were just the border, Great Liang might be able to destroy them by ruthlessly expending national strength.
The problem lay in the foreign tribes eyeing the southeast coastal areas covetously, waiting to take advantage of any weakness.
Hou Shen couldn’t help interrupting: “Pity. When Old General Xie was alive, the small coastal tribes were nothing to fear.”
He spoke with righteous indignation: “Yet the Emperor keeps hesitating to destroy Wurong. General Xie inherited his father’s will and uses troops like a god. Two years ago, he was 80% sure of winning. But the Emperor dragged it on and on, allowing both sides to grow stronger…”
“Hou Shen!”
That official interrupted him sternly. Discussing the Emperor presumptuously—did he not want his life?
Hou Shen knew he had misspoken and said in a panic, “Pretend you didn’t hear. His Majesty is still very wise.”
Rong Juan just smiled. He actually didn’t have a good impression of the old Emperor either.
What serious person would adopt so many princes? Wasn’t this deliberately triggering infighting?
Playing imperial power games during external threats—the collapse of the edifice was only a matter of time.
“I am willing to go with Brother Hou.” Under the official’s “are you crazy” gaze, Rong Juan smiled.
Fieldwork was much better than wasting time here. Finding a random excuse for the round trip could take hours on the road.
Hou Shen’s eyes lit up. Afraid he would regret it, he immediately dragged the person out the door: “Let’s go.”
“But I still have copying to do. I need to ask Lord Kong for instructions.”
“No need! I’ll write it for you when we get back.”
The moment they stepped out of the office, the sky was blue, and the air was fresh.
The weather after the rain was most suitable for sleeping.
Rong Juan got on the carriage carrying the birdcage, his sickly face gaining a bit more color.
Chirp chirp.
Not to mention him, even the sparrow’s chirps were livelier.
In contrast, Hou Shen’s worry deepened. Thinking of having a colleague for company, his mood improved slightly.
“Brother Hou.” Rong Juan spoke suddenly: “Carriages and horses were slow in the past.”
Why let the driver run so fast?
Hou Shen felt a bit better. Seems the other party is also afraid and escaping reality.
The carriage finally slowed down and stopped bumping.
Rong Juan took a groggy nap in the middle until Hou Shen shook him awake frantically.
Without the Lion’s Roar, Rong Juan woke up slowly, largely due to the toxin accumulation in his body.
Hou Shen breathed a sigh of relief: “Still alive.”
The noise of haggling outside drifted into the carriage, interrupting their conversation.
With the System around, Rong Juan naturally wasn’t afraid of sleeping like the dead. He rubbed his eyes and poked his head out to look.
Great Liang had three halls for receiving foreign tribes: East, South, and West. The East Hall alone occupied several hectares, with over a hundred rooms, and also functioned as a trade center with a designated trading area.
Wurong had many good things; leather goods were especially popular.
Cotton had become increasingly expensive over the past two winters. The leather clothes brought by Wurong not only kept out the cold but also cost less than half the price of a cotton-padded jacket. Occasionally, they would exchange horses for grain, though usually limited to foals.
The place where the Wurong people officially stayed was further inside.
Before entering, Rong Juan heard a loud, rough voice laughing: “You have so many rules here, not letting us go to other parts of the inner city.”
“Our King wants to marry the Princess as his fourth consort. In your Central Plains words, where can a noble Prince Consort not go?”
Hou Shen’s face darkened, and he cursed, “Shameless.”
He explained to Rong Juan: “These barbarians have been clamoring to marry the Princess all the way here. Dreaming.”
Rong Juan just listened quietly, walking with the bird while browsing the scenery along the way.
The smell of strong liquor permeated the air.
A dozen burly men sat on the ground. The leader held a leg of lamb that hadn’t been cooked much.
After pouring strong liquor on it, he gnawed on it raw.
The hall attendant delivering wine trembled slightly behind them. The mission members tore tendons and membranes with sharp teeth.
Seeing the attendant dared not look them in the eye, they slapped the table and cursed the Liang people for being cowardly.
Hearing someone enter, the envoy turned his head.
Hou Shen didn’t understand why they were only looking at himself, only to find Rong Juan standing back-to-back with him, feeding the bird.
“…”
Wanting to end this rotten errand quickly, Hou Shen stepped forward and told the mission about recording and inspecting the tribute items they brought: “Our two peoples have different living habits. If there are any specially required items, you can inform me.”
The mission leader suddenly stood up, a head taller than everyone present.
Hou Shen didn’t want to look up, only feeling the shadow approaching, his hair standing on end.
The Wurong envoy didn’t make things difficult for him this time. With a thick arm around his shoulder, he spoke fluently: “No rush.”
Rong Juan was behind initially, so the envoy didn’t see him. Suddenly spotting that extraordinary face now, he was momentarily dazed, then laughed loudly: “The officials here are each prettier than the female slaves in the tents!”
Comparing court officials to slaves was a massive insult.
Hou Shen, who had been pushed forward to speak earlier, hurriedly said to Rong Juan, “Don’t be impulsive.”
Shouting that your dad is Prime Minister Rong won’t work here.
However, Rong Juan seemed to only have eyes for the sparrow right now; everything else was birdsong and fragrant flowers.
The Wurong envoy didn’t see exasperation on Rong Juan’s face and was very dissatisfied. He noticed the strange way the other party held the birdcage, using only his thumb and index finger.
Rong Juan chirped and interacted with the sparrow, introducing proactively: “Its name is Yi Dian Dian.”
“Yi Dian Dian, come, say hello to the envoy.”
What did a sparrow know? It just chirped.
Rong Juan: “Yi Dian Dian is saying hello to you.”
The Wurong envoy felt something was wrong, but couldn’t put his finger on it. It was just uncomfortable. But thinking again, it would be strange if he found Liang officials pleasing to the eye.
The mission leader didn’t put his hand down, insisting on hooking Hou Shen’s neck, while his other arm reached out to hook Rong Juan’s.
He missed.
Rong Juan was unexpectedly agile at this moment.
Calling it hooking was an understatement; it was more like a naked chokehold.
When Hou Shen started having trouble breathing, his feet finally touched the ground completely again.
The mission leader sat back in his original seat and beckoned: “Come, drink with us.”
His malicious gaze swept over Rong Juan’s face again, saying aggressively, “Without female slaves to drink with, the wine has no taste. Didn’t expect a surprise here.”
The envoy beside him pretended to whisper, “Face looks good. Wonder if the skin feels good to touch too. Heard their Central Plains people have very tender skin.”
Wurong people had strong carnal desires and weren’t picky about meat or veg. He was genuinely craving Rong Juan.
“Hahaha!”
Hou Shen couldn’t keep his face straight. The barbarians were arrogant, seemingly deliberately provoking them to strike first.
There was likely probing intent within. If Great Liang intended to pursue victory, they definitely wouldn’t tolerate this. If they showed weakness repeatedly, it would prove that Great Liang dared not start a war again in the short term.
Hou Shen’s brain was almost burning. While thinking about what to do, he could only swallow his anger.
Finally, he could only pretend not to hear and repeat the previous question.
However, the Wurong mission just kept insisting they drink with them, discussing nothing else.
The atmosphere gradually became tense.
A light voice drifted from the side: “Hungry.”
The slight airflow when speaking, and Rong Juan’s voice, which was exceptionally pleasant when softened, brought the illusion of refreshment in the summer.
Hou Shen had no time to appreciate it. He was about to curse.
What time is it, and you’re thinking about eating?
Is this high-ranking connection confused by anger?
Actually, Rong Juan was clearer-headed than ever.
Because it was too noisy.
The last trace of sleepiness was long gone. He turned to look at the sun outside and calmly estimated the time.
If he were still at the Ministry of Rites office, he should be having lunch now, with a nap in between.
Unlike the hall, where the air quality was poor, full of alcohol, and the smell of uncooked mutton.
Since entering, he had been standing, and his legs were going soft.
In short, Rong Juan was hungry and saw no hope of getting out of work. Yet these Wurong mission members were endless.
Vulgar smiles, unrestrained mocking exchanges.
Surrounded by various noises, Rong Juan’s expression showed no change.
A moment later, he suddenly whispered, “Brother Hou, I just thought about it carefully.”
Hou Shen said grumpily, “Thought about what?”
“Since I have a Gold Medal of Immunity from Death anyway, I’ll kill the envoy, and then we’ll go eat.”
Rong Juan had thought very carefully.
Two countries at war don’t kill envoys; if not at war, they can kill.
Hou Shen, who was overwhelmed: “…”
What?
Because Rong Juan’s tone was too normal, he didn’t react at first.
When he realized what the other party was saying, Hou Shen’s face changed drastically instantly: “!!!”
What did you say?!
Author’s Note:
Unofficial History: The Emperor is beautiful, likes quiet, and has an explosive temper.