Chapter 151: CH 144

“An earthquake?”

Tang Fan’s mind was not yet clear, not totally resuming his typical sophisticated calmness. His black eyes even had a thin fog over them, his expression confused and guileless, while his inner clothes hung loose on his form, revealing a large expanse of bare chest beneath it.

Despite being a scholar, Tang Fan usually did not entirely go without exercise — in the Six Arts of noblemen, at least, he had to be proficient in archery — which made his figure quite pleasing to look at. It was unlike that frail bookworms that truly didn’t have the strength to truss a chicken, two columns of their ribs visible when they undressed.

Sui Zhou truly loved to see this occasionally-revealed other side to him, as it gave him a sense of, ‘This man is mine. I alone can witness this side of him.’

Few were aware that Count Sui’s desire to possess was this strong.

“At Tai’an, in Shandong.” Sui Zhou placed emphasis on the location, casually reaching out to fix the other’s belt and drape his outer robe over him again. His own clothes were not any sort of neat and tidy, but he primarily didn’t want Tang Fan to catch a cold.

Shoulders and back warming up, but neck still getting chilly from meeting the ice-cold air, Tang Fan jolted, finally waking up a bit. “How do you know that?”

“The news already reached the palace. Wang Zhi sent someone to relay it.”

Even though the knocking hadn’t been loud, the middle of the night had made it especially ear-piercing. Tang Fan had been sleeping too deeply to heard it, but Sui Zhou hadn’t been the same.

An earthquake implied catastrophe. If one happened at Mount Tai, though, the meaning was particularly different.

When monarchs were ordained, or a switch in the ruling surname came, they needed to ascend and be sealed on Mount Tai.

Why?

The East had been an area of good omens since ancient times. Mount Tai was not only located in the East, but also view as a place where gods descended to and spirits congregated together. When one’s shoes tread on Tai, then they would be secure; hence was why the ancients named it Mount Tai, for ‘safety’. In the prior Qin and Han, monarchs had already repeatedly been visiting Mount Tai for fengshan; after the Founding Emperor of Qin, this convention had been passed down, all succeeding monarchs going to the mountain for fengshan and showing pride.

Unlike the various versions of conjecture that might appear following a comet over the North Cup, if anything occurred at Mount Tai, everyone would only think one thing: the Heavens were giving the Emperor a scolding.

Had the Emperor done something wrong? (It could be many somethings.)

Even if he hadn’t, officials would always be happy to make links to in in order to pick out his shortcomings and admonish him for them, or any inadvisable large-scale projects, or demands for diligence in government, and so on, to say nothing of the major event set up before the eyes: he wanted to depose the Crown Prince.

See? Right as he had gotten the idea to depose him, Mount Tai had quaked on his heel. If that wasn’t a warning from the Heavens, then what was?

Were he to insist upon acting on his own, there would then likely be more than a mere earthquake.

Tang Fan naturally didn’t believe that the Crown Prince’s deposition was related to the quake, like how general commoners did, but he had no doubt that after the Emperor learned of this, his originally resolute notion would be shaken.

And that was once-in-a-thousand-years chance.

Had it not been for Wang Zhi sending someone to spread the news, Tang Fan and the rest would have only found out when they went to the Cabinet the next day, at the earliest. It would have been very easy to miss this critical opportunity.

Without another word, Tang Fan got up to get dressed, preparing for an overnight visit to Liu Jian and Xu Pu, after which they would each send a memorial. The contents would be a total exaggeration of the catastrophe, more dreadful than it was, as it was best to scare the Emperor off from his intent to depose the Crown Prince.

It was unknown when it had started, but there was an indescribable affinity between the two. Almost as soon as Tang Fan moved, Sui Zhou already knew what he wanted to do. “I’ll see you off.”

“Okay,” Tang Fan didn’t refuse, but, thinking about it, he then said, “You’re of sensitive status and always have His Majesty’s confidence. This is a matter for civil officials, you shouldn’t get mixed up in it.”

“I understand. If you unluckily anger His Majesty, I’ll still have to go intercede for you. How could I get mixed up?” Sui Zhou coldly joked in a deadpan.

Tang Fan didn’t know how to react. “Can’t you say anything nice?”

The day after, when most people were just learning that the Emperor had openly brought up his plan to depose the Crown Prince and had already sought out the Cabinet for this, they also heard of Mount Tai’s earthquake.

Court and society both immediately went into tumult, but before they could create a response, Liu Jian, Xu Pu, and Tang Fan’s memorials were separately passed upwards. Within them, they made a connection to the earthquake and the Emperor wanting to depose the Crown Prince, their wording harshly admonishing of him, basically saying, ‘The Crown Prince is the heir that you yourself set, and he has offered sacrifice at the Temple of Heaven on your behalf, gaining Heaven’s acknowledgement. He now has no lack of virtue, yet you want to oust him — the earthquake at Mount Tai was a warning to you. Is causing unrest in the country for your own personal preference something you’re happy to see? If the Great Ancestor in the Springs below learned of this, he would be distraught.’

Even though the three memorials were not phrased identically, they all had the same meaning. After reading them, the Emperor kept them without release, but there were no secrets in the capital’s officialdom — the contents of the memorials still happened to quietly leak out of the Office of Transmissions.

As officials, and in standing out amongst the brawl of countless troops, no official of the Six Ministries was a simple character. From those memorials, they had espied several issues.

Issue one: The Cabinet had seven people, yet only three had sent memorials. Clearly, the Cabinet held differing opinions, and the rest were likely to support the Crown Prince’s deposition, or at least not oppose it.

Issue two: The three had chosen to send memorials, as opposed to seeking the Emperor out for a face-to-face talk. Clearly, there had likely been talks with the Emperor before that had fallen apart.

Just like how there were frequently differing explanations for celestial phenomena, the Mount Tai earthquake was really a matter of viewpoint. It was not a certainty that it was related to the Crown Prince, as it could also be explained as the Emperor neglecting governance work — it all relied on what others wanted to say.

In other words, set before the Court officials right now were a few choices. Should they follow Liu Jian’s group in sending memorials, or act like they didn’t know anything? If they did send memorials, which side should they support?

Linking the earthquake to the deposition would undoubtedly be standing on the side opposite the Wan party. What if His Majesty ended up stubbornly acting as he saw fit, and deposed the Crown Prince anyways? Those that sent memorials now would all have offended the new Crown Prince later on.

No one could predict the future’s direction. Similar to those people that stayed in the Imperial Observatory all their lives and dealt with the stars every day, they could never, to the end of their lives, say that they had peep into the machinations of the universe. Perhaps, they could not even see into their own destinies.

However, the wheel of fate would not cease going forwards just because of personal unease, even if the regent’s will could not be changed. The saying that human determination could overcome the Heavens was really a fearless, ignorant, and ridiculous one.

The Emperor was finally afraid.

He looked at the three memorials set before him. The decision he had managed to come to had been completely destroyed by an earthquake.

No matter how Wan An’s group attempted to change his mind, it was useless. He was capable of thinking for himself, not a puppet nor an idiot — the earthquake was like a warning bell that had shaken him awake all at once.

He had no idea that the reason Wan An’s group strove hard to support the Prince of Xing as the Crown Prince was purely selfish, but all this time, him wanting to depose the Crown Prince was neither for the Wan party, nor because he hated the Prince (though that was one of the reasons); the true reason was that he didn’t want to let Consort Wan down.

The loss of her son back in the day had greatly heartbroken them, and following that, she had no other children. This nation’s inheritance would not end up shouldered by a son from both of them.

Since Lady Wan preferred the Prince of Xing, hated the Crown Prince, and hope that the Prince of Xing could inherit the throne, the Emperor had been willing to grant her wish. Both of them were his blood-related sons, anyways; it made no difference to him who was the successor.

This time, however, the Emperor had hesitated. It wasn’t due to opposition from officials, but due to a sign from the Heavens.

Do the even the Heavens not want Lady Wan and I to do as we want? Do the Heavens also believe that Zhu Youyuan cannot replace Zhu Youcheng?

He was ultimately not someone completely lacking in a sense of responsibility. Despite having no interest to speak of in governance, preferring to birdkeep, garden, and paint, the education he had received when settled as the Crown Prince had long been deeply engraved into his mind. At this critical moment, he weighed the wish of his favorite lady against the burden of Zhu’s Ming country for a long time, flip-flopping, and ended up choosing the latter.

“Sister Wan, we let you down! It isn’t what we want Zhu Youyuan to have the throne, but we have to give an explanation to our ancestors!” he thus said to him with some slight pain, gripping her hand.

“Why must you say such things, Your Majesty? It was my poor luck. The Heavens didn’t want to let my son be the Crown Prince, didn’t want to let me be the Empress, and now doesn’t want to let my preferred child have his wish. I’m afraid that in this life of mine, such luck won’t happen,” she similarly lamented. Although her temper was violent, she was not one to lose it blindly. Had she been, she would not have been able to give the Emperor endless warmth and comfort in his childhood.

Hearing her speak, the Emperor felt even more pangs of guilt. He sincerely cherished this woman — he had gained and lost many things in his life, but even if he would lose his throne, he would refuse to lose her. And yet, he indeed still sat on the Zhu throne, his nature stopping him from not caring about the opposing voices, then willfully doing something mad.

“That isn’t true. If you have no good luck, then we will impart luck to you. Once our time is up, we will draft a decree to have them revere you as Empress Dowager. We know you dislike the Crown Prince, but he is a filial child that will never defy our will. He will treat you well on our behalf, attending to you so that you can enjoy the rest of your life.”

Lady Wan couldn’t help but be touched. This man, who was a full nineteen years her junior, really was enough for her.

She had once impudently fought with him over his harem’s increasing amount of concubines and offspring, even putting those women and children to death by poison, and he had clearly known of it, yet had turned a blind eye. At times, she would wonder if it was Heaven’s retribution for taking so many lives that it had bound her to bearing no sons, nor ever being the Empress.

But, at other times, a feeling of unhappiness would arise in her heart: For what reason did I expend all my effort in raising you since your youth? When you were in dire straits, even your mother was too afraid to visit you! Were it not for me, you would have died deep in the palace without anyone to know it, yet at the end of it all, you never made me the Empress because of your mother’s refusal!

Those contradicting thoughts had always made her feelings towards the Emperor a mix of love and hate. Whether she hated him more or loved him more was hard to say.

“As you’ve come to a decision, there is no need for more to be said, Your Majesty. This is just not my bit of fortune to have.” She held his hand in hers, patting its back and giving him a comforting smile. “But there is another thing.”

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He felt so guilty, that he longed to offer up all of the very best things in the world to her. At that, he answered, “Tell me.”

“The Palace of Esteemed Realness and Longevity is about to finish construction. When you wanted to leave the palace for worship yourself, those officials nagged and wouldn’t let you. It would be better for the Crown Prince to go in your stead, wouldn’t it? That way, they can’t say anything. Your health is poor; I want him to pray for blessings in your stead.”

The Emperor was a bit moved. “Sister Wan, only you would think of me like this.”

She pursed her lips into a smile, hand slowly stroking his hair. “You’re the one I brought up single-handedly. Of course I would think of you.”

At about the same time that Emperor and Consort were speaking, the inside of the Wan Estate was a whole different scene.

With a sharp bang, a cup was swept to the floor, its fragments spraying out in all directions. One or two landed right upon the legs of the nearby maidservant — thankfully, as they were too small, and clothes were acting as a barrier, they did not cause her any sort of harm.

Even so, she still showed a look of fear, even her breaths subconsciously quieting out of fear of angering her master.

Wan Tong was so angry, his whole body was shaking. “How does this make sense?! Ridiculous! Why was there an earthquake?! The why aside, is every single natural disaster have to be about deposing the Crown Prince?!”

It was inevitable that this would anger him. Every single thing had been prepared for, with even the Emperor’s edict being drafted, yet this had happened all of a sudden. The Emperor had purportedly ordered the Office of Transmissions to recall the edict the night of, and hadn’t brought up the deposition again.

Wan An, Peng Hua, and Yin Zhi looked at each other, all sighing on the inside.

Natural disasters happened yearly, but the Emperor wanted to depose the Crown Prince on his toes only for an earthquake to happen on his heel, which was indeed relatively uncommon. Moreover, the earthquake’s location had been Mount Tai, which was the center of the issue. Had the quake been anywhere else, no matter what frippery Liu Jian’s group did, the Emperor wouldn’t have changed his mind.

It was too late to say anything now. With the Emperor’s indecisive personality, once he had shrunken back into his shell, it would be hard to get him to set his mind on it again.

Everything they had done before had been for naught.

Wan Tong was getting angry here, but Wan An’s experience in the Cabinet today had been worse. Ignoring how Liu Jian, Xu Pu, and Tang Fan had beamed and chatted amongst themselves, even Liu Ji, who had previously come to an agreement with him in private, was ignoring him. They clearly needed to discuss proper business matters face-to-face, yet Liu Ji had found an excuse to avoid him, even having his official documents sent over via Vizier Deputy.

Ever since becoming Head Vizier, Wan An had never come across such a thing, his nose having gone askew out of anger.

But what could be done?

Truthfully, Wan An was terrified. Just how stubborn was the Crown Prince’s destiny? He had suffered heavily in his early childhood, yet hadn’t passed early on like Crown Prince Daogong, growing peacefully to adulthood. They had even brought up the star phenomena, and he had still managed to escape it.

Was the Crown Prince genuinely destined to be the true Emperor? Who were they to defy the Heavens, then?

These fears were buried deep within Wan An. He had never spoken of them to anyone.

He felt that Peng Hua and Yin Zhi were probably thinking the same way he was, but no one dared to say so.

Seeing that the three of them were saying nothing, the fire in Wan Tong’s heart burned more vigorously. “Yuanweng, what’s the word now? Can you pull up a statute for this?!” he asked, sinister-sounding.

Wan An smiled painfully. “With things at this point, we have done all we should have. What else can we? I’m especially powerless.”

The other’s face was dark. “Don’t any of you forget that when His Majesty was urged into deposing him, you already portrayed your positions! If you don’t think of a way out quickly, then when the Crown Prince ascends, there’ll be a switch of fate! There won’t be glory or wealth, as even our lives and deaths won’t be ours to manage!”

Yin Zhi lightly coughed. “The Crown Prince is of gentle nature, much like his father. Things might not get to that step.”

Wan Tong was furious. “So you’re saying that you’ve all decided to hand your lives and futures to someone else?!”

Him being so nervous was because he was consort-kin, not the same material as civil officials. Wan An and the rest standing on the wrong side and following the wrong person would, at worst, be dismissed from their post and sent back to the fields. If the Emperor died, however, Consort Wan would have no support, and they would probably be faced with an even more miserable end.

As he himself had stated before, their lives and future relied upon the thoughts of the new monarch.

Yin Zhi laughed dryly. “I didn’t say that…”

“Don’t forget that your son is still locked up in the Brocade Guard,” Wan Tong said with a huff. “I went to demand him, and Sui Guangchuan wouldn’t give him over. He said that interrogations were not yet finished! He’s a dog relying on his owner’s power — isn’t that because he walks close to those civils?! My sister is still around, yet he still dares to be like this! If we wait for the future… you’ll see how many lives your son has left in him!”

When that was said, Yin Zhi shut him mouth.

Peng Hua looked at their faces. Right as he was thinking to say something and change the atmosphere around, he saw someone hurry in from outside, then make a report to Wan Tong. “Master, someone came from the palace saying that they wish to meet you.”

“Who?”

“Xiao Liu.”

Wan Tong clearly knew this person, quite familiarly. “Let him in.”

The newcomer was young attendant in plainclothes, disguised as a typical citizen. As soon as he entered the room, Wan Tong asked, “Xiao Liu, did Eunuch Liang have you come over, or did my sister?”

This palace attendant called Xiao Liu was now working Wang Zhi’s original job at the Palace of Manifest Virtue, serving Consort Wan. However, he was also the disciple of Liang Fang, Sealwielder of the Supervisory of Ceremony Management, hence Wan Tong’s question.

“This lowly one came on Eunuch Liang’s order. There is something to discuss with all of you gents.”

Wan Tong was a little disappointed, having thought that he had been sent by his sister, but he still waved his hand to have the servants draw back, somewhat impatient. “Did he send you to tell us that His Majesty refuses to depose the Crown Prince? We’ve long known that!”

“You misunderstand, Sir. He knows that you all already know. This lowly one came by for something else important.”

“Don’t leave us in suspense, then!”

Slightly smiling, Xiao Lu explained what he had been ordered to pass on.

Hearing it, Wan An’s face contorted immediately. “That must absolutely never be done!”

Wan Tong had still been considering it, displeased at Wan An’s statement. “What can’t be done? I think that’s a really great idea!”

Peng Hua and Yin Zhi’s expressions were oscillating, but they didn’t refute Wan Tong’s words.

Wan An’s tone had even changed. “Are you all insane? If this comes to light, you— we will all be done for…!”

The reactions of everyone present were each distinct. Wan Tong was vicious, Wan An was astonished, Peng Hua was collected, and Yin Zhi was hesitant.

Xiao Liu took the scene in fully, not batting an eye.

“As long as we make suitable plans, there won’t be any danger of it coming to light!” Wan Tong said, overcast, and turned to the other two. “What do you all think?”

“How certain are you all about this?” Peng Hua just asked Xiao Liu.

“We can’t say it’s an eighty- or ninety-percent likelihood, but it’s at least a seventy- or eighty-percent one,” Xiao Liu said, having prepared for this in advance. “Eunuch Liang has long made arrangements. Please be at east, all of you.”

“What of the Noble Consort? Is she aware of this?” Yin Zhi asked.

Xiao Liu smiled. “Yes. A month ago, she proposed this plan to Eunuch Liang. No one understands His Majesty better than she does. She said that he’s never had an unwavering personality; all of you using the celestial phenomena to persuade him was very likely to end up failing at the very end, but at the time, she and Eunuch Liang hadn’t set their minds to this. For that reason, they hadn’t let all of you know, but now that the boat has suck, we have no choice.”

Wan Tong smacked the table. “Great! You’re right. This matter is already a strung arrow; it can’t not be released. If anyone draws back at a time like this…”

He scanned the others, then said viciously, “Then they will be an enemy of me, and an enemy of my sister!”

Wan An’s lips moved, but, in the end, no sound came out.

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