Wang Zhi

You are one that refuses to go unnoticed.

The year he entered the palace, Wang Zhi was no older than nine. He was not like those children of impoverished families, forced into this to live and voluntarily entering the palace to seek riches. His father and grandfather were Yao of Guangxi, and because their rebel army had been defeated and captured, their descendants suffered involvement as prisoners of war. Wang Zhi and the children of other ethnicities had all been sent into the palace to become attendants.

However, when he and the rest of the children that went in were standing together, waiting for a Great Eunuch — said to be the most powerful and mentionable within the palace — would come to choose an apprentice, he other had walked over to them with attendants at his sides, sharp gaze sweeping over their faces until it ultimately landed on Wang Zhi, whereupon he said the prior sentence.

You are one that refuses to go unnoticed.

Wang Zhi was caught off guard for a good minute. He was still too young; before coming to the capital, he hadn’t even known any Mandarin. Had it not been for the burst of cram study he had done after entering the palace, he might not have understood what the other was saying.

Even if he did understand it, he couldn’t exactly comprehend it, looking at his counterpart with a confused expression.

“I see ambition in your eyes,” the man said further.

Wang Zhi still looked blank.

Or, it should be said that he did understand what was said, but was pretending not to.

His family had encountered misfortune, his kin had encountered adversity. The long journey from Guangxi to the capital had been enough to teach him how to do a lot.

Like hiding his thoughts.

Like faking stupidity.

Like acting subdued.

The other smiled and didn’t say anything else, merely pointing at Wang Zhi and a few others, then saying to the attendant hat was responsible for arranging the children, “That’ll be them.”

The attendant nodded, bowed, then led the children away.

In the months following that, they didn’t see the person that had spoken to Wang Zhi again.

Later on, Wang Zhi came to learn that the man was Liang Fang, Sealwielder Eunuch of the Supervisory of Ceremony Management. Sealwielders did not wield official seals, but were draped in red. In other words, they had the power to help the Emperor evaluate memorials.

There was no need for a deeper understanding. Even if one heard about it only once, they could imagine how much authority this Sealwielder Eunuch had. Wang Zhi recalled the scene of the other’s servants surrounding him like clouds, more majestic than the greater officials he had seen before.

Can I be someone like that in the future?

Now that he had become a eunuch, he had to become the most powerful one of all.

Great men were born stupendously gifted, where even if they died, they would be a mighty ghost.

His life in the Inner Education Hall passed swiftly. He was innately sharp, making his learning progress quicker than most’s, yet he noticed the darkness and filth in the palace, coming to be deeply versed in the truth that the forest’s most beautiful trees would be broken by the wind. Although he was pompous by nature, he could forcefully restrain himself into an obedient, low-key appearance. He had been praised by the Hall’s teacher several times, yet it wasn’t enough to incite peoples’ jealousy.

The Education Hall had been specially set up as a study hall for eunuchs in the palace. They not only learned how to read and write here, but also familiarized themselves with the Four Books and Five Classics, and came to thoroughly understand ancient moral texts. Wang Zhi heard that ever since the Hall’s construction, all eunuchs able to earn themselves a name in the Dynasty had invariably done well in the Hall.

The Court’s original intent for them learning all of this was not to have eunuchs go get scholarly honors, of course, but to use Confucian principles to educate them, so that they could turn into loyal and reliable people.

In addition to learning literature and disciplines, some carefully-chosen children would also learn martial arts in the Hall. Wang Zhi was one of them. They were taught by either palace bodyguards, or senior eunuchs with decent skills. Every once in a while, Eunuch Liang would come over and give pointers to anyone that had good roots and grasp. Of those, Wang Zhi had been instructed by him the most — the other seemed to believe that Wang Zhi was a good sprout, wanting to make him his half-apprentice, but unexpectedly, Wang Zhi’s learning progress wasn’t too fast. Liang Fang then quickly lost interest in hime, no longer giving him any further thought.

And it was during this period of learning that Wang Zhi heard about someone: Zheng He.

Zheng He’s family name hadn’t been Zheng to begin with, but Ma, and he hadn’t been a Han, but a Hui. He had been abducted to Nanjing due to war, and then, by chance coincidence, entered the residence of the Yongle Emperor, who was the Prince of Yan at the time. When following Yongle into a siege, he had established illustrious merits, gained the Emperor’s trust, received the name Zheng He, and ordered to voyage West seven times, whereupon he sailed wisely on blue waves and attracted many nations to join the Dynasty, his appraisal still debated to this day.

What a similar origin! What a similar experience!

He had also been a foreigner, and also entered the deep palace against his will. The difference between them was that the Eunuch of Three Treasures was of famed name and high status, the twists of his life’s tale incomparable to those of typical people, or even a lot of scholars.

A faint longing was in Wang Zhi’s heart.

Maybe, one day, I can be like him, too?

Was it hard to be a eunuch?

Of course it was.

The physical incompleteness, the need to read others’ expressions to get by, the intrigue of the deep palace, the ease with which life could be lost… no matter how precociously intelligent and tough Wang Zhi was, he was not without fear deep inside his heart. He often startled awake in the middle of the night, as if he was still en route to the capital, caught.

Sometimes, the officials that came to the palace for discussion would pass by him, and he would get a clear view of the unconcealed disdain these gentlemen had, as if they were so very clean, while Wang Zhi and them were so very dirty.

The eunuchs and palace maids were all slaves.

Slaves, slaves… a lifetime of being slaves. This path was one he hadn’t chosen to begin with, but was his fortune never going to turn around again?

No. He refused to accept this, as was natural.

Even if he couldn’t choose which path he walked, he wanted to take that path up to his own divine destiny.

For the sake of this obsession, Wang Zhi studied strenuously. Where others put in fifty-percent effort, he would frequently put in seventy, eighty, ninety-percent.

One year later, due to his good performance in the Inner Education Hall, Wang Zhi was assigned to the Palace of Manifest Virtue; in other words, he was going to serve Consort Wan.

He had a saccharine mouth, was diligent and efficient in his work, and quickly won her favor and trust. In her eyes, the young eunuch was proficient at speaking, very strong at handling things, and could be trained up as her confidante.

During his days at the Palace, Wang Zhi also witnessed and learned a lot. Not only that, but he gained the attention of the Chenghua Emperor; because the latter loved what his woman loved, he had a deep-cut impression of Wang Zhi.

But Wang Zhi didn’t care for that.

Many would have felt quite pleased after received Consort Wan’s favor and sitting steady in an attendant seat at her Palace, yet he wasn’t. His goal, from beginning to end, had not been Consort Wan, nor even the Emperor.

Great Eunuch of the Palace of Manifest Virtue? Sealwielder of the Supervisory of Ceremony Management? Are those anything at all? I want to stand in an even higher position and grasp even more power, like the Eunuch of Three Treasures — legendary, wondrous, and beyond comparison to anyone else.

That’s the only life I want to live.

Soon, that opportunity came.

Owing to the demonic fox case, everyone was in a panic. The Emperor was ill-rested all night, always dreaming up that someone was spying on him at night. Due to failing to catch the alleged mastermind behind the scenes, the Eastern Depot and Brocade Guard had been reprimanded by the Emperor several times already.

At that point, Wang Zhi stood out, then asked the Emperor for directions on his own accord, saying that he could resolve this matter. The Emperor was half-skeptical, but ultimately gave him the ability to come and go from the palace as he saw fit.

Wang Zhi did not disappoint him, handling everything flawlessly, and even caught the demon monk, Li Zilong. A group of people were also swept away, both inside and outside of the palace. He used the Emperor’s bad impression of the Eastern Depot to build the Western Depot becoming its momentarily-famous Director.

The taste of holding power in his youth and rising up so fast came too quickly, too beautifully, resulting in someone as tremendously shrewd as him being overly caught up in it for a minute, losing his sense of propriety, and his itch to expand the Western Depot soon attracted a lot of criticism. Not only were the civil officials highly on-alert and vigilant against the Western Depot, but the Eastern Depot’s Shang Ming and company were also unhappy with their authority being split up, and secretly made stumbling blocks for him. Even the Emperor and Consort Wan, who had formerly supported him, were gradually changing stance.

Wang Zhi was keenly aware that he was sinking into territory where he would be alone, and without help.

It looked like his power was still great and his moment was still going strong, as whenever he went outside, once the name Western Depot was heard, everyone would get more frightened than they would upon hearing the Eastern Depot’s. That was the fruit of his strenuous labor, but that fruit had ripened too quickly, soon about to fall to the ground and rot.

I was too hasty. My strides were too quick, he thought, having a bit of a headache.

Even though he was bright, in this game he was playing, he had no expert guiding him. Haphazardly charging around would only end with his total defeat.

This was the fate of nearly all power-wielding eunuchs, but he refused it — and the Heavens didn’t let him down. When he was at a loss, someone appeared.

He was Tang Fan, a sixth-rank Judge from Shuntian Prefecture.

That official’s post was too minor to make even the slightest wave in a place like the capital, but it was because of Pan Bin’s words that Wang Zhi became interested in the small-time character.

For the sake of dispelling Pan Bin’s predicament, the other had used his mouth to give Wang Zhi two different ideas: one, leave Consort Wan’s camp to switch to the Crown Prince’s, and two, abandon all that he had now for abroad exploits, such as military credits.

At first, Wang Zhi hadn’t taken those two ideas to heart at all, but then many things happened, every single one of which seemed to corroborate the trueness of what Tang Fan had said.

After considering it, Wang Zhi then realized that this Tang Runqing, in spite of his low position, was truly a surprising and capable man. That was saying nothing of the cases he cracked, which were enough by themselves to make one slap their table in shock.

He knew that he might have underestimated Tang Fan, so he maybe-intentionally, maybe-not got near him to make friends with him.

Before this, he had never thought that he would need a friend.

He also had to admit that his initial friend-making time with Tang Fan had other motives. He had surmised that, with Tang Runqing’s smarts, he was very likely aware of what he was thinking.

Yet Tang Fan said nothing, even giving Wang Zhi a lot of ideas to help him get through troubles, from the capital’s child abduction case to them advancing and retreating together at the Weining Sealet. Plant a willow on accident, and it would grow big enough for shade; the two became closer and closer, their relationship subtle. They weren’t friends, but they could trust each other unconditionally.

A true noble interacting with a true villain appeared to always be a slight to the noble. For that reason, even though Tang Fan knew that Wang Zhi was not on the same road as him, since he saw that the other did have principles and a bottom line — unlike Shang Ming’s type that loved to commit atrocities — he didn’t hesitate to give him pointers.

Unwittingly, the two remained friends for many years.

Once Wang Zhi’s roaring power was above the waves and he was as famous as the Eunuch of Three Treasures that he had always admired, he then realized that he seemed to have completely deviated from the original direction he had been walking in.

At the beginning, he had only wanted to make those that had looked down on him before crawl and kneel before him. Now, what he had achieved far exceeded his initial hopes.

A hundred years from now, when other mentioned the name Wang Zhi, they might find him better than Liang Fang and Shang Ming’s sort, who had only fought amongst themselves and fought for power, instead saying that he was a great man of his generation.

I hope it was enough.

“My Lord, Sir Tang is returning to Jiangnan in a few days. Should we get ready?” a young eunuch asked after running over to him, out of breath,

“Get ready for what? Is he retiring already, and needs every official there is to welcome him?” Wang Zhi rolled his eyes.

“B-but… he has societal reputation. I heard that Count Ding’an came with him this time, too…” the eunuch muttered.

“That fooltot must be coming to mooch food again. You can report to me when they’re about to arrive, there’s no need for so much false courtesy. Believe it or not, you won’t be able to curry any favor with that, but instead suffer one big scolding!”

Wang Zhi lightly snorted in derision. Though snow dotted the hair at his temples, his striking features were still visible. That prideful tinge of his had long sedated over the years, only his eyes, sharp as electricity, hadn’t diminished from before.

His young apprentice wanted to say something, but Wang Zhi impatiently waved his hand, forced him to leave grumpily.

Despite having displaying the peak of impatience, when he had heard who was about to arrive, a slight smile automatically showed up on his lips.

Under the western window, wind stirred jade-green bamboo, foretelling an old friend’s arrival.

Year after year, the trees came to be in full bloom.

The Emperor

It was unclear whether it was a fortune or a misfortune to be born during this Dynasty.

Many believed that they were lucky, especially those major officials that had experienced Yingzong and Xianzong’s eras. Whenever they paid respects, they were eager to kowtow three hundred times to the Heavens, thanking this Dynasty’s ancestors out of gratitude that they had sent such a good Emperor that didn’t muck around.

Yep. Muck around.

After Xianzong’s titling, everyone’s current expectations for Emperors had become very low. As long as they didn’t muck around, that would be great.

From certain viewpoints, the current Emperor, Hongzhi, did not only not muck around, but even gave everyone pleasant surprises.

In one example, he was hardworking. Not only was he never absent from Court meetings of any size, but he had even re-opened the long-abandoned Royal Seminar. At first, all the officials were overjoyed at his diligence, but later on, they noticed that he was too diligent. Since his health was poor to start with and he had been born sickly, he would occasionally go into bedrest. Out of fear that he would work too hard and die young, the normal Emperor they had long been hoping for thus passing in a blink, they quickly urged him to pay more attention to his health and take it easier. It didn’t matter if the Royal Seminar wasn’t open, and he could be absent from Court meeting every once in a while; his hard work was something his subjects could already see, so, for the sake of the realm’s citizens, he should take care of himself.

This was a really odd phenomenon that no one knew how to react to. In the Chenghua Court, the officials had not been able to make the Emperor work hard no matter what they had done, and now, they were crying and begging for this Emperor to not work so hard.

Other people aside, Tang Fan and the others interacted with the Emperor day and night. Having personally watched him go from a frail teen to a leading Emperor, their feelings were different than the average person’s, and they understood his health better than them, too.They definitely didn’t want to see the fair, peaceable, charitable, and gentle Emperor that the Great Ming had finally managed to get go out like a shooting star.

With great fortune, the Emperor heeded their urging, and gradually changed his way of life. At Tang Fan’s insistence, he would request for imperial doctors to take his pulse every three days. His health remained not too great, but he stopped falling ill due to overwork.

In another example, due to his childhood experiences, this Emperor ought to have developed an indecisive, people-pleasing personality, or gone down the road of being a terrible, bloodthirsty, dictatorial ruler. However, thanks to him being born gentle, as well as all the later-acquired teachings of his tutors and the good people by his side that kept springing up, Hongzhi was a rare Emperor that didn’t go crooked.

In the eyes of officials, he might be a little weak, too. That was primarily seen in how he only had one Empress, and because she was vivacious and jealous, she had a tight hold on him. He couldn’t even have trysts with palace maids, let alone take concubines — the commonfolk called that ‘being henpecked’. However, those commonfolk being henpecked only involved one family, while the Emperor being henpecked and only having one Empress was truly unheard of, a spectacle for the ages.

It wasn’t only that. Despite this Emperor having wantonly swept out the monks and eunuchs the Late Emperor had left behind, he started believing in Daoist arts himself not long afterwards. He didn’t develop the tendency to neglect the government like his father had, but it was enough to make officials break into full-body cold sweats.

Apart from those minor defects, the Emperor had nothing else to nitpick. He might not be as brilliant and decisive as the Great Ancestor, always deliberating on major military and government matters multiple times before he would come to a decision, but he also didn’t have the Great Ancestor’s brutality. His attitude towards his subjects, especially trusted officials, was practically gentle and considerate.

Before this, even Cabinet members had needed to go home alone whenever they got off duty, sometimes too late, whenever they had work delays. Major officials that could would, at the maximum, have their family outside waiting for them, but poorer officials could only return alone. After hearing of this, the Emperor had specially allocated a portion of the imperial guards to be responsible for escorting officials that were getting home late.

In yet another example of his difference, at the Dynasty’s founding, the Great Ancestor had felt that all officials were milling mules that didn’t need rest, thereafter shortening their vacation time to a low that went contrary to Tang and Song’s precedent, making everyone miserable, and shafting them on all sorts of benefits that he could have. During Hongzhi’s period, due to the seafaring ban being relaxed, the national treasury’s income increased, so the Emperor ordered for extra gifts to be given to officials during the holidays — third-ranks and higher could receive fruits and meats. Officials of other localities also received handouts, but the number of them was much smaller than capital officials’. (This was actually why they all stopped opposing the ban’s lift later on; in the face of life quality assurance, upholding ancestral law was another generation’s problem.)

An Emperor such as his was hardworking in governance, even-tempered, and able to heed advice. Above all, he wouldn’t pretend to understand things when he didn’t, nor insist upon arbitrarily running things. For anything the Cabinet unanimously passed through, he would generally honor the opinions of the Viziers. Everyone was hoping that his reign would be a little on the long side, of course.

This Dynasty’s rules gave only three legal holidays: New Year’s Day, the Winter Solstice, and the Lantern Festival. The Mid-Autumn Festival, Double Ninth, and so on typically weren’t included, unless the Emperor bestowed extraneous vacation days. The current Emperor, however, empathized with how hard the official worked every day, particularly the Cabinet members, who might not be able to get off work in time each day and would even eat dinner at the Pavilion of Literary Profundity. For that, he added a few more vacation periods, giving three days total for the Mid-Autumn Festival so that all officials could be at home and reunite with their families, chatting and bonding.

Relying on that benefit’s protection, Tang Fan no longer needed to remain in the Cabinet and look at everyone else’s expressions of suffering for the Mid-Autumn Festival, instead able to go home, moon-view, and eat mooncakes.

At this juncture, Ah-Dong had been married for about a year. Sister Tang Yu also had her own life to live; because she had just birthed a daughter, she was still in her rest month, and Tang Fan wasn’t going to go add to the chaos. All he did was put out some mooncakes and candied fruits in the courtyard of his own residence, then drink wine and moon-view with Sui Zhou, speaking from the heart with him, truly free.

The mooncakes came in four different colors with four types of filling: mung bean, red bean, fresh meat, and five-nut mix. All of them had been bestowed by the Emperor, which set a new precedent. No Emperor had ever given imperially-granted cakes to his subjects before; everyone in the Cabinet, Tang Fan included, had received a batch this year, giving them a similar novel taste.

Truthfully, palace mooncakes might not be the most delicious, but the Emperor’s kind regards more or less gave everyone peace of mind. For an Emperor, something like this was no more effort than the wave of a hand, yet the Late Emperor had not even wanted to attend Court meeting, let alone do anything like this to make the ruler and his subjects feel closer.

Human hearts were made of flesh, and no one was born loving to defy the Emperor. If he was cooperative, then whenever there was something that he needed advice on, his subjects would take his face into consideration and leave him some wiggle room. These benefits were therefore mutual. From that point of view, the current Emperor could be said to be very clever.

Sui Zhou only took one bite of mooncake, then set it down, refusing to pick it up again.

Tang Fan laughed at that. “The technique is definitely inferior to yours, but no mooncakes were ever granted before this. This year marks a new precedent.”

“The cakes are secondary. I just hope that I can have a quiet Mid-Autumn with you, like it is now.”

Tang Fan smiled lightly, not saying a word. Their minds might be linked, but there were some things that didn’t need to be said for the other to know them automatically.

The moon on this night was particularly big, and particularly round.

It was impartial; no matter whether someone was as rich as a monarch or poor enough to live in thatched cottages, the moon they saw would not be any different.

Seeing the moon was like seeing a loved one; two different spots, the same exact yearning.

How many people were partitioned by a thousand li, never to meet all their lives? The world had far too many separations and meetings. Even if people met face-to-face, they might not be able to become acquainted. Even if they became acquainted, they might not be able to become friends. Even if they became friends, they might not become lifelong companions. Separated in both life and death, differing viewpoints — there were too many variables in the middle to change enough.

What fortune he had, then. He must have done a lot of good in his past life, to have been able to meet Sui Zhou.

Thinking of that, his smile deepened a little.

Catching sight of that, Sui Zhou reached out to pinch his face. “What are you smiling for?”

Tang Fan wanted to avoid it, but couldn’t, one cheek of his getting pulled outwards. “…Oi!”

The other released him. “You didn’t look so good when you got back just now. Did something go wrong in the Cabinet?”

At his reminder, Tang Fan’s smile went away, and he was quiet for a moment. “He Lin died.”

The Truth

Sui Zhou was taken aback for a short moment. He hadn’t heard that name in a long time. “How did he die?”

Tang Fan sighed. “It’s a long story.”

Way back when, with Tang Fan’s aid, He Lin had gone to Miyun County as an Official Tutor.

He hadn’t done so well, at the beginning. Even though he’d been of the mind to begin anew, his stubborn personality and lack of sophistication made it easy for him to offend his superiors. As a result, in only a few short months, he had been isolated from all of his colleagues in Miyun.

With no one to help or support him then, he finally realized that if he went down this path into darkness again, he would only be cast out by everyone. Were he to bungle even this assignment, not only would he not have any face to go back to the He’s with, but even Tang Fan wouldn’t be able to give him any further help.

Reality’s cruelness forced him to sober up. He put away his airs, humbled himself, and began to make up for his past mistakes, piece by piece.

Everyone disliked him still, at first. The Miyun Official Tutor post had no real authority to begin with, but it had somehow become even more completely without substance. He couldn’t move a single cun in Miyun, and no one took him seriously — he no longer had his previous pride, finally calming down to devote himself to his work, simultaneously changing his personality and working hard to make friends with his colleagues. On the inside, he was missing the benefits of having Tang Yu every day.

How laughable. Tang Yu had once been wholly obedient towards him, yet he had not only not cherished her, but instead had nitpicked her in everything. He regretted this, he regretted that, and he regretted itching to draw a clear boundary with her. Now, with no one indulging him, he had woken up on his own. Clearly, it was human nature to take things for granted, especially in the opinion of someone like He Lin.

After about two years like this, the post of Miyun Registrar opened up at last. The County Magistrate, seeing that his performance had been good over the years and having the idea to cultivate him, recommended him to be Registrar. As such, He Lin had a rank; even though he was considered the lowest tier of Great Ming official, taking this step meant that it would be much easier for him to be promoted in the future.

The Great Ming had over two-thousand counties and infinite li of territory. Tang Fan was dreadfully busy at work, having countless things he needed to do arranged right in front of him, so it stood to reason that he wouldn’t have paid attention to some County Registrar. The reason he did occasionally check in on news from Miyun, though, was because He Lin was there.

Despite the spousal pair having since separated, a shattered mirror coming back together had happened a lot in the past. Tang Yu and Xue Ling were not yet together at this time period, either. Perhaps, after He Lin came ashore later, the married couple could be together; something that Tang Fan, as a good little brother, took care to fully consider for his sister. For that reason, he watched He Lin in secret, always vigilant for anything going on with him.

The news of He Lin being recommended for Registrar reached Tang Fan’s him. He was slightly surprised that his former brother-in-law — unchangingly stubborn, aloof, and boastful — had finally changed nature to learn how to integrate with the secular world, as well as slightly gratified. He didn’t holler at the Ministry of Revenue to take special care of him, merely watching quietly from the sidelines, wanting to see exactly how much He Lin had changed.

Ever since, He Lin appeared to have truly changed a lot; worldly affairs were an excellent whetting stone. When his Miyun Registrar posit-on expired, he received a good evaluation due to his marvelous performance, and was transferred to be the Zuoyun County Deputy in Datong Prefecture.

Registrar was ninth-rank, while County Deputy was eighth-rank. Even though it was a promotion, Zuoyun County wasn’t a great place, because it was affiliated with Datong and therefore too up-close to the Tartars. Every time the Tartars invaded, they loved to scramble to a select few Datong counties, and Zuoyun was always one of the most-afflicted areas. It would be a hard task to be an official there.

Tang Fan suspected that with He Lin’s personality and abilities, it would be hard for him to do well in that position.

However, after thinking about it, he didn’t intervene. Once the Ministry of Revenue’s transfer order went to Miyun, he heard that He Lin accepted it, then went to Zuoyun to take up his post.

In spite of being in a high position where he had the power to decide peoples’ fates, and how perhaps just one sentence of his could completely change He Lin’s life, Tang Fan did no such thing. No matter what He Lin had done to Tang Yu before, that grudge had since ended, a debt written entirely off. If the two of them could continue their old relationship, then that would be their destiny. If they couldn’t, then that would be their own business. Tang Fan would pay some more attention to He Lin, but he wasn’t going to do anything because of all that.

Later on, Tang Yu and Xue Ling married and had children, and all that had happened in the past further dissipated like smoke. Tang Fan’s attention to He Lin subsequently decreased, as he was unceasingly busy every single day, and He Lin was thrown to the back of his mind in time.

Several years had passed since. When he heard news of him again, it was related to the Tartars attacking Zuoyun County.

After Wang Zhi and Wang Yue had been greatly victorious in Datong and captured the eldest son of the Tartar leader, the Tartars quieted down a lot. However, after Wang Yue was transferred elsewhere and Wang Zhi returned to the capital, Datong’s defense loosened up, and the Tartars swept back in. At that time, the Great Ming was in the middle of lifting the seafaring ban and fighting the Japanese pirates in the Southeast, while there was also a rebellion in Jiaozhi in the Southwest. The entire country’s attention was being attracted to those two areas, which had given the Tartars the chance to start pillaging from Zuoyun County, nearly invading Datong City.

Even though the Tartars had ended up defeated, fleeing without getting their way, Zuoyun had still born most of the attack, having undergone no lack of devastation, half of the population killed and countless belongings looted. The County Magistrate had led troops to resist the enemy; the Tartars had wanted to capture him to humiliate the Ming Dynasty, but ever since Ming’s founding, the topic of surrender had been very sensitive. All scholar-officials took care to have the integrity of preferring to die than submit. The Magistrate had known that even if he didn’t die, his name would be ruined, so he had simply killed himself on the line of duty. A group of Zuoyun officials had followed his same path.

He Lin included.

When he had heard of this, Tang Fan hadn’t been able to come back to himself for a long time. No matter how He Lin had been in the past, him ending up like this was not something Tang Fan had ever wanted to see.

Sui Zhou was quiet for a bit after the explanation, then spat out one sentence: “It was a worthy death.”

Right. Compared to being trapped within his house, living a mediocre life, or going mad due to repeated test failures, this ending would actually be the best, from He Lin’s point of view. No matter how unexceptional his life before was, with this final stroke of ornamentation, his entire lifetime seemed to be bathed in light.

Was that light not exactly what he had wanted?

He was already dead through-and-though. There was no way that Tang Fan could go and ask him what he was thinking. In his situation, if He Lin hadn’t died, it would have been the equivalent of cowardly running away, and his end after he returned would not have been too much better. His death had instead won him a good reputation, and a posthumous title in the Court.

During his time in Miyun, he had actually taken another wife and sired two children, a son and daughter, that were just learning how to speak.

His wife had a pedestrian background, inevitably not giving him a Cabinet Solon for a brother-in-law. Her coming from a civilian family made her plenty happy with marrying He Lin, who had come from a famous family and had an official’s post, and the two’s relationship had been good. However, he when he had gone to Zuoyun to take up his post, he hadn’t brought her or the children with him, worried about their young age and the long journey. His family had thereby dodged calamity.

Tang Fan sighed a bit at Sui Zhou’s comment. “Yes, it was. The Court plans to issue a degree for monetary compensation and a posthumous title, all according to regulations. Still, I don’t intend to tell my sister any of this.”

Sui Zhou thought about that, then nodded. “Okay.”

Why would she need to know?

Tang Yu already had a life of her own. There had been no possibility for them to have ever reconciled. Apart from that one moment of intersection, the name He Lin, to Tang Yu and Tang Fan, was nothing more a half-acquainted stranger’s.

Rather than add misery in for no reason, it was better to say nothing about it.

“When I went into the palace to pay respects to the Grand Dowager today, the old lady asked about my marriage prospects, and urged me to marry soon,” Sui Zhou changed subjects.

Tang Fan’s heart thumped as he grinned. “And how did you answer?”

Sui Zhou covered the back of his hand, slowly rubbing it, openly eating tofu while expressionlessly pretending to be someone decent. “I refused, of course, saying that I’ve long since had someone in mind. The Sui family already has descendants, in any case, while I’m bound to be alone in this life.”

Tang Fan gave him a look. “Even if you don’t marry, you can adopt a son, can’t you? There has to be someone to light incense for you later, or else in the future…”

“When one dies, they become nothing more than a skeleton,” the other answered mildly. “Cherishing the present is what’s most important. What’ll happen in a hundred years, no one can say for certain, and if something happens them, no amount of incense will be of any use. Whether it’s incense or the family name, they’re all things of the physical body.”

“That’s very Zen of you and all, but I happen to be obsessed with physical appearances,” Tang Fan said, amused.

Sui Zhou gripped his hand, saying heedlessly, “As you should. No need to think more on it.”

Tang Fan had only said that casually. Seeing that he didn’t really have any intent, he brought it up no more, but Sui Zhou talking about the Grand Dowager made him remember something else…

“To be honest, I think… that His Majesty has noticed our relationship.”

“”Hm?” Sui Zhou paused, though his attention was genuinely drawn. “What did he say to you?”

Tang Fan lightly coughed. “He didn’t say anything, I’m just getting the feeling.”

“If anything happens, I’ll go talk to him.

“No need,” Tang Fan said with a smile. “We’ll wait until he brings it up.”

The Emperor had indeed noticed.

He wasn’t deaf or blind. Regardless of how secretive Tang Fan and Sui Zhou were, some faint clues would always be revealed. Furthermore, the Emperor oversaw his subjects from a different angel, their each and every move something the wise and holy Son of Heaven would know of down to the finest detail…

To brief the words and word the briefs, he just knew.

However, contrary to Tang Fan and Sui Zhou’s expectations, after he learned of it, he didn’t seek them out to have a heart-to-heart or admonish them, but instead sought Wang Zhi out, heart filled with worry. “We heard… that you and Vizier Tang have a good friendship, Insubject Wang?”

Wang Zhi was taken aback by that out-of-nowhere question. His brain instantly imagined up innumerable conspiracies and ploys, which were none other than a major official and eunuch being friends making the Emperor suspicious, the Emperor speaking out to test him, and so on. He thus answered, “Your Majesty, this subject and Vizier Tang have cooperated several times before out of necessity for handling cases. We are old acquaintances, and typically don’t communicate much.”

“There is no need to be apprehensive. We have no other intent, just a want to ask if you know…”

After hemming and hawing for half the day, no words followed.

Bewildered from watching the Emperor struggle on repeat, Wang Zhi couldn’t help but ask, “You wish to ask if this subject knows what?”

The Emperor coughed lightly. “Well, um… about the relationship between Vizier Tang and Count Ding’an…”

Wang Zhi knew of that, of course, but it would not be good to openly tell the Emperor.

All other things aside, this was generally not an illustrious thing. While dabbling in men was common nowadays, Tang Fan and Sui Zhou had precarious positions. If the Emperor held suspicions towards them, or if this got to the censors’ ears, there would be storms of all sizes.

From how Wang Zhi saw it, the best method would simply be for each of them to take wives, have children, and play around however they wanted in private, neither holding the other up. Since neither of them were willing to do that, though, he wasn’t going to interfere.

The abuses and praises of others were nothing more than scratches blocked by boots, to Wang Zhi. Back in his Western Depot glory days, he had been damned daily by people behind his back, stuck with pins like a doll. These days, the landscape was exactly the same. Were opportunistic sorts that had everything go right for them, like Liu Cottonflower, not ending up perfectly fine after getting denounced non-stop by every censor there was? Obviously, what gossipy things gossipers said was unimportant and didn’t need to be worried about.

What did matter was what the Emperor thought.

Still, the Emperor’s current reaction was a little weird. It didn’t look like suspicion, nor opposition, nor even happy approval.

Wang Zhi thought for a bit, deliberating on his wording. “As far as this subject knows, they are indeed very close friends, with a very close relationship.”

The Emperor faltered some. “We heard some rumors… that they are more than just friends?”

“Forgive me for my stupidity, but I am unclear on what you are referring to, Your Majesty,” Wang Zhi answered, playing dumb.

The Emperor wanted to say something, but didn’t, looking at him several more times, only to end up saying, “Nevermind. Act like we never asked you that.”

Wang Zhi couldn’t figure out what the Emperor was actually thinking. Wanting to ask a bit after it, he feigned surprise. “Could you mean to say that, between them, there’s…?”

“We are saying no such thing,” the Emperor said quickly. “We were only asking. If you do not believe there is something, then there is nothing.”

Truthfully, when he had first heard of this, he had been tremendously shocked, as well as too afraid to believe it. Later on, he had secretly kept watch for some time, then discovered that it seemed to be true.

Still, that was someone else’s business. He wasn’t stupid enough to supect that Tang Fan would collude with Sui Zhou, and they were so cautious in front of others, that they didn’t leave anything behind to be gossiped about.

Those ‘rumors’ were only some baseless guesses going around the palace, as well as the Emperor’s conclusion after his own observations.

Wang Zhi still didn’t have enough of an understanding of this Emperor. He believed that he would be suspicious, when in reality, the Emperor was thinking something else entirely.

“Subject Wang.”

“Present.”

“Do not tell anyone else what we have just discussed with you. It would not be good for the reputations of Vizier Tang and Count Ding’an.”

“This subject understands.”

Wang Zhi’s face was dark as he thought, I’m worried that you’ll say something!

Thinking further and still not at ease, the Emperor said, “We have no thoughts about this matter, but while we think so, that is no guarantee that others will think the same. Do you see a way to cover this up?”

Wang Zhi was now surprised for real. “This subject believed that you would think it a violation of normal conventions.”

The Emperor smiled. “When it comes to normal conventions, would the Late Emperor and Late Consort not have also violated them?”

Wang Zhi didn’t follow that up. Answered that question would not be great for him.

“Although we grew up deep in the palace, we have seen many things before. Furthermore, their case is not too shocking. Vizier Tang and Count Ding’an have gone through life and death together, sharing tribulations. It is not too incomprehensible that their relationship would be deeper than their relationship with others. Are we and the Empress not the same? We have her, and do not wish for anyone else to be involved. Single-pair married couples are not common in this world, but they also are not uncommon.”

“…Your mind is very open, Your Majesty. This subject is far inferior to you.”

Actually, what Wang Zhi wanted to say was: You sure can take things easy, to use yourself as a point of comparison! Your heart is way too big!