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    The Second Year of Zhao Wu

    Morning Like Blue Clouds (10)

    Moving house is a big deal.

    In Da Yu, it was extremely rare for any young lady to move out of her parents’ home to live alone before marriage, this matter was enough to wear out the tongues of busybodies (idiom meaning to become the subject of gossip). In the past, no one could say anything about her, but now it’s different. Now Wei Tingxu has become Da Yu’s first female official, even though she’s just a minor Secretary Assistant, all her actions fall under everyone’s scrutiny, becoming a thorn in the side of the noble families.

    Speaking of how Wei Tingxu ended up in this situation, it was all because she helped the Emperor Li Yanyi implement the Quanxuan Reform (ιΈιŠ“: ancient Chinese imperial examination and appointment system).

    The autumn Quanxuan is approaching, Li Yanyi has issued an imperial edict, instructing Zhangsun Yao, who’s in charge of Quanxuan, to widely distribute announcements, ensuring that people from all counties and villages know about this year’s reforms. This year’s Quanxuan is open to all Da Yu citizens – anyone with Da Yu household registration, regardless of class (士農ε·₯商: the four traditional social classes – scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants) or gender can participate. The Quanxuan is no longer just a game for noble families to entertain themselves, it’s the first time it truly faces all Da Yu subjects.

    The person who proposed this reform was Wei Tingxu.

    Li Yanyi and Wei Tingxu worked in perfect harmony during morning court.

    Li Yanyi stated that Da Yu currently lacks capable people from local to central government, whether civil or military officials have reached a point when green and yellow don’t meet (meaning a gap in succession). The capable ministers are old, many have already retired. There were some capable ones in court, but they all retreated to avoid trouble during her power struggle with Li Juzi. Now the military officers are almost all yellow-haired boys (meaning inexperienced youth), and among the old ministers, only Wei Lun and Zhangsun Yao’s generation remain. Once they retire, who will be Da Yu’s arms and thighs (meaning important supporters)? Even though there are some promising talents in recent years, these young scholars are just entering politics, lacking both experience and seniority.

    Li Yanyi had tried to nurture them, even entrusting them with important matters. Whenever they submitted memorials, she would carefully review them and discuss them one by one during morning court. Unfortunately, after several attempts, Li Yanyi was greatly disappointed – these young people, despite their youth, had somehow learned bureaucratic ways from unknown sources. They showed little true insight, but were quick to flatter and fawn (idiom meaning to curry favor through flattery). How could Li Yanyi not know where the root of the problem lay?

    The oiliness (slick behavior) of these noble sons comes from generations of “inheritance,” having listened since the womb to their fathers’ ways of speaking human words to humans and ghost words to ghosts (meaning to be two-faced).

    Li Yanyi couldn’t tolerate this, nothing before her eyes could be done perfunctorily.

    She made up her mind to thoroughly scrape away the decaying poison.

    She entrusted the reform matters to Wei Tingxu.

    Wei Tingxu wrote a lengthy memorial with flourish, reading it confidently during morning court, unhurriedly reading for half a shi chen (an hour), during which several people attempted to interrupt her, but were all forced back by Li Yanyi’s glare.

    Wei Tingxu stood in the center of the Taiji Hall, holding the bamboo scroll, reading while unrolling it.

    One end of the bamboo scroll was in Wei Tingxu’s hand, while the other end draped to the ground.

    Wei Tingxu began by speaking of Da Yu’s current decline in workforce, saying that male farmers alone could no longer meet Da Yu’s agricultural needs, not to mention besides farming there was also the mining of mountain and sea resources, the construction of national water and land facilities, and especially the opening of the Path of Ten Thousand Directions which needed many able-bodied men. Wei Tingxu advocated for more women to step out of their chambers (ι–¨ζˆΏ: women’s private quarters), breaking down the great barrier between men and women, so that regardless of gender, all could work the same land and meet in the same room. This would greatly increase the workforce, greatly benefiting Da Yu’s reconstruction.

    Besides construction work, the central government also needed fresh blood. Following Li Yanyi’s instructions, she used women entering official service as a starting point, wanting to give all talented and ambitious intellectuals who could contribute to Da Yu’s altars of soil and grain (meaning the state) a chance to appear before the emperor. The emperor would choose based on merit, rather than having noble clans and relatives monopolize the court through mutual protection.

    This day had finally come.

    Li Yanyi greatly praised Wei Tingxu’s memorial, personally naming this reform “Haina Reform” (桷納: literally “ocean accepting,” meaning all-encompassing). She wanted to accept capable people from all corners of the world to join in this grand endeavor.

    The “Haina Reform” made Wei Tingxu truly become the emperor’s red person (meaning someone in favor), unmatched in prominence for a time. Li Yanyi supported all her decisions unconditionally.

    However, those watching her with ulterior motives would find ways to criticize her from cunning and strange angles by any means necessary.

    Luan Jiang and other officials jointly submitted a memorial to impeach Wei Tingxu, saying that she moved out before marriage and abandoned her disabled elderly father, which was an unfilial act against moral principles. They hoped Li Yanyi would punish her and remove her from office to uphold proper human relations and court principles.

    Li Yanyi said that residence was her imperial gift, and Wei Zizhuo was a Secretary Assistant personally appointed by the lonely one (formal way for rulers to refer to themselves), how could she be compared to ordinary women? When Luan Jiang tried to speak again, Zhangsun Yao rudely interrupted him, saying without Wei Zizhuo there would be no Path of Ten Thousand Directions, without which the national treasury would be empty. Just from last winter’s hailstorm, how many common people were killed and displaced? Without money, how could they resettle disaster victims? Wei Zizhuo was undoubtedly Da Yu’s first female official, but her achievements surpassed countless others. The emperor is sacred and bright, those who achieve great merit are rewarded accordingly – the emperor merely granted a residence, who’s envious of that? If Left Minister Luan keeps attacking based on gender, is he questioning the emperor’s judgment in recognizing talent, or questioning whether women serving as officials or emperor goes against moral principles?

    Luan Jiang was clearly only talking about Wei Zizhuo being unfilial, yet Zhangsun Yao dragged the emperor into it. Just as Luan Jiang was about to deny this, Wei Tingxu, who had been coldly observing from the side, spoke at the perfect moment, striking right at the vital point:

    “You’re saying having a female emperor also goes against principles, so who should be emperor then? Do you already have a treasonous candidate in mind?”

    Luan Jiang was greatly alarmed and hurriedly knelt before Li Yanyi, crying: “This subject never had such rebellious thoughts! I just…” Luan Jiang’s mind was in chaos, knowing if he forcefully brought the topic back to impeaching Wei Tingxu, the demon woman’s faction would shamelessly redirect it back to the emperor. Luan Jiang changed his words mid-sentence:

    “This subject is just worried that Wei family’s second son, Minister Wei, has gone to the Northern Frontier commanding troops, and now his daughter wants to move out and establish her own household. Sima Wei is a loyal minister and great general of his generation, already has a leg disability, if there’s no one to care for him in his later years…”

    Wei Tingxu coldly laughed: “What nonsense is Left Minister Luan speaking? Not to mention my mother is still alive and the elderly couple can support each other, besides my second brother and this official’s two sons, there’s also eldest daughter Ah Ran and other family members, many servants – how can Left Minister worry about my father’s lonely later years? If father hadn’t called in sick and missed morning court today to hear these absurd words, he would have been truly angered.”

    Luan Jiang brought up Wei Zilian who commanded military power and Wei Zizhuo who enjoyed Li Yanyi’s favor in official service, along with Wei Lun, precisely to remind Li Yanyi that the Wei family’s power was growing too strong and needed to be guarded against. However, he couldn’t say it directly in front of the court officials, so he could only hint at it indirectly before Li Yanyi, hoping she would understand.

    How could Wei Tingxu not know what he was thinking, and with her clever teeth and sharp mouth (quick wit) interrupted again.

    Luan Jiang couldn’t out-argue her, and was so frustrated that his forehead was covered in sweat.

    Of course, there were still many voices of opposition from noble families, but gradually, as the Haina Reform progressed, support and gratitude from common people and cold gates (referring to poor but educated families) began to quietly rise.

    Geng Bai couldn’t sit still anymore.

    He knew that once the autumn Quanxuan came and if the Haina Reform was successfully implemented, their mighty Geng family would be the biggest victim.

    Ah Xin received Li Yanyi’s imperial edict, which bore Li Yanyi’s handwriting, with cinnabar ink flowing freely across the special parchment, sketching out several lines of elegant and clever small regular script.

    After “receiving the edict,” Ah Xin took it alone to sit inside the bell tower, hiding from the wind and snow to read it again.

    She knew that for Li Yanyi to allow her to return, she must have carefully paved the way.

    Reading Li Yanyi’s characters over and over, she suddenly remembered a game they used to play. Every time they exchanged letters discussing classical studies or sharing new poems, they would deliberately leave certain characters at intervals of three, six, nine, twelve… These characters could be strung together to form a complete sentence. This simple game was addictive, whether they were teasing each other or flirting, there would always be surprises when extracting these hidden messages.

    Ah Xin hadn’t thought about this for a long time, but as it flashed through her mind, she became interested in trying it.

    Li Yanyi must have forgotten it by now, she wouldn’t remember.

    Thinking this, Ah Xin still eagerly began to extract the characters.

    If she could form a coherent sentence it would be a surprise, if not, don’t be disappointed – Ah Xin told herself.

    When she extracted the first character “qing” (卿: term of endearment used by emperors for close officials or lovers), her heart, which hadn’t been moved for a long time, began to beat rapidly.

    The second character was also “qing.” Ah Xin quickly continued extracting, followed by the three characters meaning “I miss you.” When she got to the last character “you,” her heart was greatly stirred.

    She still remembered, she hadn’t forgotten.

    Ah Xin closed the imperial edict, wiping away tears.

    Li Yanyi always knew how to hit her most vulnerable spots, making her both sad and moved.

    She couldn’t let go of Li Yanyi.

    Ah Xin had always kept her father’s dying words in her heart, and she must warn Li Yanyi.

    After sending out the imperial edict, Li Yanyi waited two months without news of Ah Xin’s return. Just as she was becoming anxious, she received a reply letter from Ah Xin.

    “The Wei family has wolfish ambitions (idiom meaning cruel and ambitious intentions), Your Majesty must be concerned.”

    Li Yanyi put down the stiff tree bark (ancient writing material), not even having the heart to savor Ah Xin’s long-absent handwriting.

    The Wei family has wolfish ambitions?

    Could it be that Ah Xin also knows something she doesn’t?

    Connecting it with that mysterious letter, Li Yanyi became more certain it came from the remnants of the Xie family (remaining supporters of a defeated faction).

    What conspiracy was the Wei family hiding, and what did Ah Xin know?

    So many people knew about this matter, yet she, as emperor, was wrapped in a drum (meaning to be unaware of the truth).

    Li Yanyi became restless and agitated.

    Qing-qing, come back.

    I need you.

    Li Yanyi no longer sent imperial edicts, but instead sent a secret letter to the Northern Frontier.

    She knew Ah Xin couldn’t resist her acting coquettish, and she also knew Ah Xin couldn’t bear to see her suffer.



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