Chuigong Hall.
“Your servant, Lv Yijian, Grand Councilor and Co-administrator of the Secretariat, respectfully submits this memorial: The Crown Prince is the heir to the empire for ten thousand generations. He must not be treated lightly or rashly, lest the very foundation of the state be harmed…”
Thud. This memorial, like many of its predecessors, was opened, then shortly after, accurately flew into the already towering “mountain of memorials,” dutifully contributing to its increasing height.
Zhang Maoze stood below, eyes fixed on his nose, nose focused on his heart, even his breathing kept deliberately light.
If he remembered correctly, the last time Guanjia had tossed memorials aside with such impatience was when court officials first petitioned him to designate an heir…
The Second Prince is truly formidable.
After the news spread that Guanjia had permitted the Second Prince to leave the palace three times a month to observe the ways of the world, the entire outer court erupted like cold water poured over quicklime.
Every single official qualified to submit memorials directly to Guanjia—without exception—voiced opposition.
Judging by the current height of the memorial mountain, it was nearly twice as tall as during the petitions to establish an heir.
But upon careful reflection, this seemed normal. Designating an heir was a high-stakes gamble requiring one to wager not only their own political life but that of their entire family.
Without a diamond drill, who would dare stick their head in to handle porcelain work?
However, preventing the Second Prince—the only current imperial son and the unofficially designated Crown Prince—from venturing outside the palace was absolute political correctness.
To put it bluntly, those now following the crowd and submitting memorials would, at worst, incur Guanjia’s temporary annoyance. Afterward, things would return to normal.
Because there were too many of them; ordinary individuals simply weren’t noteworthy enough for Guanjia to remember.
But those who didn’t submit Zuo Memorials would likely receive the special “Guanjia Blacklist and Grudge-Holding Package.”
We currently have only this one son, taught by the Sage Ancestor himself, peerless in intelligence. Shouldn’t you all help Us keep a closer watch over him?
Their intentions are condemnable!
After clearing away these admonishing memorials, Zhao Zhen immediately felt the desk had become refreshingly tidy.
With such a small amount of work, it felt like it could be finished in less than half a shichen, leaving plenty of time to visit the gentle and considerate Consort Zhang.
But things are just that strange—they always love to cause trouble when everything seems smooth.
Although no workplace lacks newcomers who excel at nothing but causing trouble, it just so happened that Zhao Zhen encountered them today.
To the shared stunned disbelief of Zhao Zhen and Zhang Maoze, two young eunuchs brought in two large trays piled high with memorials.
Along with them came extremely unwelcome news: “Guanjia, Grand Councilor Lv, Grand Councilor Zhang, Grand Councilor Yan, and several Ministers are requesting an audience outside the hall.”
Zhang Maoze’s heart sank with a thud, plummeting endlessly, then he watched in horror as Guanjia’s face began to “ripple” like flowing water.
Zhao Zhen: Attempting to manage his expression.
Expression management failed.
Giving up!
“Zhang Maoze, send someone to check what our Prince Yu is doing right now!”
If he remembered correctly, that rascal had planned to go out and look around today.
The Imperial City Surveillance Agency hadn’t sent any news yet, meaning the boy was still in the palace.
The Son of Heaven’s word is law, but summoning him for a scolding before he leaves the palace doesn’t count as breaking a promise.
Zhao Zhen’s calculation was entirely correct; Zhao Xin was indeed still in the palace.
As for the main reason? He was being suppressed by bloodline dominance.
No matter how clever his words or numerous his schemes, his elder sister Huirou countered them all with sheer force.
And in the face of absolute power, strategy is useless!
Huirou pinned Zhao Xin against the wall, twisting his arms behind his back as she “interrogated” him: “Tell me, how did Father allow you to leave the palace?”
Zhao Xin’s face pressed against the cold wall, his mind racing like ten thousand galloping horses.
This little body of his was truly like the national football team—utterly incapable of winning against anyone.
Seeing Zhao Xin remain silent, Huirou increased her strength and stood taller: “Are you going to talk or not?”
“Wait, big sister! What am I supposed to tell you?”
“Tell me why Father allowed you to leave the palace!”
“Probably, maybe, perhaps, because I’m a prince?”
“You’re lying. I asked Huaiji, and he said Father never left the palace to play when he was a prince in his early years.”
Zhao Xin wore a pained expression, mentally noting a black mark against someone named Huaiji.
So you’re the one with a big mouth, blowing the whistle to my sister and getting me beaten up, huh!
“Hurry up and talk!” Huirou grew impatient.
At Huirou’s age, there wasn’t a child who didn’t yearn for the world beyond the palace walls.
She genuinely wanted to pry the secret of leaving the palace for fun out of her younger brother Zhao Xin.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have pinned him down while Consort Miao and Empress Cao were busy packing his things for the outing.
If this extreme maneuver were discovered, she’d undoubtedly face a stern scolding, and might even get a spanking.
Zhao Xin truly felt like crying now.
He shouldn’t have believed her claim of having confidential information to share, nor should he have dismissed the attending palace servants. Now he was truly a lamb entering the tiger’s den.
When his sister hit, she really hit!
Besides, what could he even say?
Should he tell her that he had quoted Xunzi’s line, “Born in the depths of the palace, raised in the hands of women,” right to their father’s face, forcing the old man to relent and grant him three outings from the palace each month?
Ever since Zhang Maoze heard those words that day, he had practically been avoiding Zhao Xin.
If you, sister, go and repeat that line, it’s hard to say whether Father would break down a second time, but this trusted aide of Father’s might very well hang himself from the southeast branch!
Feeling the chill on his face, Zhao Xin frantically racked his brain for a solution.
Suddenly, his eyes fixed on one spot, lighting up with delight, and he called out: “Mother!”
Huirou’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly released him, assuming an obedient and well-behaved posture.
Freed from the pressure, Zhao Xin immediately executed an “eel slipping into the mud” maneuver, darting out the door with a whoosh.
The siblings, one chasing and the other fleeing, soon arrived at the main hall of Kunning Hall.
Empress Cao was speaking gently, a smile playing on her lips, as she conversed with Consort Miao.
Then Zhao Xin burst in like a little cannonball: “Mother, sister, save me!”
It must be said that the difference between having backing and having none was truly stark. In an instant, their situations were completely reversed.
Huirou was scolded by Consort Miao until her eyes welled with tears, while Zhao Xin happily munched on pastries under Empress Cao’s gentle gaze.
And this was after Zhao Xin had omitted the part about the physical suppression, using subtle and embellished language to frame it as Huirou merely wanting to go out and see the world with him.
Zhao Xin was young and had a small appetite. After eating two pastries, each about half the size of his palm, he politely declined Empress Cao’s further offerings, wiped his hands clean, and went to rescue his big sister.
Zhao Xin stood in front of Huirou, shielding half of her body, and said with a grin: “Sister, big sister was just curious. Why not save your energy and skip the scolding? I’ve heard that getting angry too often can easily cause wrinkles on your face.”
Children’s fondness for play is not a serious matter in itself. With Zhao Xin pleading on her behalf, Consort Miao naturally seized the opportunity to step down gracefully, though not before shooting Huirou a final glare before swiftly concluding the matter.
She then apologized to Empress Cao, saying, “Huirou is young and ignorant, making a fool of herself in front of Your Majesty.”
Empress Cao waved her hand gently, indicating she did not mind, and remarked, “With the eldest princess and second prince chatting and laughing like this, it livens things up a bit.”
The palace life that others envied to the point of jealousy was, for Empress Cao, rather mundane. Surrounded by four walls and a patch of sky, every action and movement was tightly constrained. It would have been better to marry into a family of equal status—at least then she could have gone out to see the lanterns during the Lantern Festival or enjoyed an outing during the Shangsi Festival.
Moreover, without children or favor, she had long been relegated to the role of a chief steward, which made her increasingly weary both physically and mentally. Previously, she had her adopted daughter Taotao to keep her company and alleviate her loneliness. However, with Zhao Xin’s recovery from his foolish ailment, Taotao, who had grown up with the Thirteenth Prince, could no longer remain in the palace. Thus, she had already sent her adopted daughter back home and was contemplating what kind of dowry to prepare to honor their bond of upbringing.
Yet, she harbored no ill will toward Zhao Xin; in fact, she felt somewhat grateful to him. Ever since Taizu established the dynasty, fearing a repeat of the chaos of the Five Dynasties, he had stripped military leaders of their power with a cup of wine, but the compensation he offered was substantial. Successive empresses were preferentially chosen from families of military nobility. In his early years, the Guanjia, having no sons, brought the Thirteenth Prince into the palace to raise. The niece Taotao, whom Empress Cao had taken into the palace to raise, was actually a candidate put forward by many military nobility families. If the Thirteenth Prince had indeed ascended the throne, Taotao would have been the undisputed next empress.
Although Taotao was her niece and adopted daughter, the arrangement was filled with the art of compromise. Broadly speaking, Taotao represented all military nobility families of the Song dynasty. More selfishly, since Taotao bore the surname Gao, she would undoubtedly have favored the Gao family. Nowadays, both among the common people and in the court, there was growing discrimination against military officials, often described as “thieving soldiers” or “coarse warriors not worth consulting.”
As empress, she could confer official positions on two family members or relatives each year. However, the process of candidate selection and appointment was fraught with unseen complexities. Without the support of influential high-ranking officials, a family’s decline was inevitable. The Cao family, having long exhausted its military achievements and now showing signs of decline, urgently needed to change course. Yet, civil officials themselves felt the pie was too small to share, with many Jinshi waiting until their beards turned gray without receiving an official post. For military officials to try to squeeze in was even more impossible.
The Guanjia also disliked employing relatives of the empress, often honoring their positions while leaving them with little real power. But now, the Cao family had a chance. According to the requirements for Imperial Study Companions proposed by Zhao Xin, among the eight companions selected by Zhao Zhen to accompany Zhao Xin in his studies half a month later, was Empress Cao’s nephew, Cao Ping.
Since ancient times, no merit surpassed supporting the rightful heir or rescuing the sovereign. When Zhao Xin inherited the throne, Cao Ping would inevitably be entrusted with important responsibilities, and it was not impossible for him to become a Chief Councilor. This would yield results much faster and with far greater impact than having a niece become empress. If not for the risk of drawing collective resentment by monopolizing benefits, Empress Cao would have already brought her elder brother’s newborn daughter into the palace, following the precedent set with Taotao.
Regardless, Zhao Xin was now the hope of her Cao clan. The intricate schemes among adults were perfectly clear to Zhao Xin, after all, he possessed the mind of an adult.
But in front of his mother and sister, he preferred to act like a child matching his current physical age.
After all, within the entire imperial palace, only the two of them offered love and attention free from ulterior motives.
With elders present, Huirou dared not assert her dominance as the elder sibling. Instead, while helping Zhao Xin fasten his belt, she chattered away with her conditions: “Zuixinglai, you must be fair—since you’re going out of the palace to have fun, you have to bring me back some delicate yet classically elegant things.
“Anything will do—paperweights, clay dolls, bamboo weavings, brush rests. Just one rule: they must be styles not found in the palace. The Imperial Wardrobe Bureau keeps recycling the same designs; I’m tired of seeing them.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll definitely bring them back,” Zhao Xin agreed good-naturedly.
These little trinkets would only cost a few hundred coins in total—they were a must-buy.
“And don’t forget the Xie family’s drinks from the market outside the Eastern Palace. I hear their perilla drink and dark plum drink are especially delicious. Today is the fifth day of the month, which means it’s market day. You’ll have to go early, or you might miss it.”
Zhao Xin continued to agree readily, but in his heart, he was furiously adding notes to the mental ledger he kept on the palace attendant named Huaiji.
No need to ask—these things were definitely suggested to his sister by that person.
He patiently noted down all of Huirou’s requests, then turned to the two elders who were chatting happily and asked, “Consort, Sister, is there anything you’d like me to bring back for you?”
“Oh, our Second Brother is truly filial,” Empress Cao drew him into her embrace, affectionately stroking his little face. “Thank you for remembering me, Second Brother, but I lack nothing. I only wish for your safe return.
“Cao Ping, my nephew—the Imperial Study Companion Guanjia selected for you—will meet you at the Donghua Gate today. Why not try getting along with him first?”
Zhao Xin nodded vigorously. “Cousin Cao Ping? I’ll remember that. I’ll definitely get along well with him!”
The term “cousin” brought a wide smile to Empress Cao’s face. She gave Zhao Xin a playful push and said, “Alright, now hurry and ask your sister if she needs anything.”
Consort Miao caught Zhao Xin and added that he should get along well with Cao Ping and not act arrogantly just because he was a prince.
Her own family background was humble, with few relatives and no accomplished offspring to serve her son, so she valued the Cao family’s assistance greatly.
Whatever their underlying thoughts or motives, the atmosphere in Kunning Hall at that moment was harmonious—exceptionally harmonious.
Until a palace attendant arrived with a troubled expression to report: “Your Majesty, Consort Zhang requests an audience outside.”
That was the first time Zhao Xin learned that a person’s expression could change completely in an instant.