Because the court had officially named a Crown Prince and enfeoffed various Princes, the Emperor personally issued an edict granting a general amnesty across the land and changing the era name to Xiangfu. In this early Xiangfu era, where the sound of firecrackers welcomed the Spring Festival, within the inner palace, high-ranking officials still kept watch. An elderly man in his sixties, carrying a bottle of wine and a bag, swayed unsteadily toward the Zhanglu residence. Along the way, those he occasionally met—be it the Emperor’s close attendants, the chroniclers, or eunuchs wearing bright red dragon robes—without exception stopped in their tracks upon seeing the old man, disregarding palace etiquette, and exchanged warm greetings with him. In ordinary times, such breaches would surely be noted by the Chief Eunuch Han, the head of the Office of Ceremonial, leading to inevitable consequences. However, the Office of Ceremonial now had a new Chief, and with the joyous celebration of the New Year, the person involved was none other than the universally beloved Old Man Tantai. Thus, no one feared being targeted, even if someone with ill intentions brought the matter before the Emperor, who would only scold those spreading rumors.
Huan Wen, who had recently succeeded Sun Xiji as the new head of the Menxia Province, exchanged greetings and congratulations all the way to Zhanglu. From afar, he spotted Minister of Revenue Wang Xionggui standing under the eaves, rubbing his hands and blowing warm breath onto them. This scholar from a humble background in Jiangnan stood out as remarkably young and vigorous among the sea of white-haired officials. Along with many of today’s pillars of the court, he had passed the imperial examination during the Yonghui era, leaping like a carp over the dragon gate. In that year’s metropolitan examination, among those who passed as Jinshi, the top three candidates included Wang Xionggui, the youngest of them all. The chief examiner who oversaw the national imperial examination was Chancellor Zhang Julu, while the examiner who reviewed his papers happened to be Huan Wen, then serving as the Left Sacrificial Winebearer of the National Academy. With his profound knowledge and talent for governing and benefiting the nation, Wang Xionggui steadily climbed the ranks, eventually becoming Minister of Revenue. Undoubtedly a member of Chancellor Zhang’s faction, even after attaining the rank of a Minister of One of the Six Ministries, he had always maintained the respect of a disciple toward Zhang Julu and Huan Wen over the years. This time, before Huan Wen could approach Zhanglu, Wang hurried down the steps to take the wine bottle and bag from him. Huan Wen teased, “Fuding, what’s this? Did that blue-eyed old man send you away again? The old fellow really is something—yesterday he gave you the cold shoulder when you came to wish him a happy new year, and today he does it again. Yet he clearly cares about you, his prized disciple, but just can’t bring himself to show it. No worries, no worries. Just say this wine and the salted peanuts are from you, and I don’t believe that blue-eyed old man can resist. If he can hold out while watching us enjoy ourselves, I’ll consider it revenge well-served for you, what do you think?”
Wang, whose courtesy name was Fuding, smiled bitterly and said, “How dare I, a junior, harbor resentment toward the Chancellor? Master Huan, please don’t mock me anymore. Besides, I have failed to discipline my son properly, allowing that unworthy boy to cause trouble. The whole capital is laughing at me. I truly feel ashamed to have disappointed the expectations of both Chancellor Zhang and Master Huan.”
Huan Wen smiled. Unlike those other courtiers with deep scheming and a tendency to seem overly gloomy, the Old Man Tantai was different. When he smiled, it was never a fake or sinister one—it was genuine, making people feel that Huan Wen had truly encountered something joyful. Over the years, many fallen high officials had liked to visit Huan Wen to reminisce, bringing along a few jugs of good wine. Whether or not Huan Wen could actually help was another matter, but talking to him always made people feel that even the gravest of problems might still have some wiggle room. Huan Wen, the Left Grand Secretary, had two things he never did: never did he pile flowers onto a brocade, nor did he ever kick a man when he was down. With Huan Wen leading him into Zhanglu, Wang Xionggui finally gained the courage to enter. However, as they reached the door, Huan Wen suddenly stopped, forcing Wang, who had already stepped one foot inside, to obediently pull back. He heard the old man whisper, “Your youngest son is called Yuanran, right? Even an old man like me, who rarely leaves his house, has heard of his reputation. He may not have done a whole basket of bad deeds, but half a basket is already enough. Last autumn, he got into a dispute with the Crown Prince of Beiliang at the Jiujium, and his group of hangers-on blew it all out of proportion, turning him into the top ruffian of the capital. They said he was the only one daring enough to stand up to that prince. That in itself was nothing. Even I, or that blue-eyed old man, were hot-headed and full of vanity when we were young. But your son has now gone too far—he actually dared to bully the daughter of Zhao Youling, the Right Secretary of the Ministry of Personnel, who is already betrothed to the only son of Yin Maochun. And that’s not all. When Han Lin’s son from the Ministry of Justice spoke up in her defense, your son had him beaten and insulted his father, calling him nothing more than a yes-man deputy minister. Fuding, you should count with your fingers—back in the fourth year of Yonghui, you few rose together and had good relations. Now, because of this, how will you face Yin, Zhao, and Han in the future? You and I both know that next year’s imperial examination will be overseen by Yin Maochun. How capable Yin is as an official, you and I both know. He’s known as the top candidate for the next Chancellor for a reason. This year’s capital examination is just over, and the major task of assessing local officials is coming up, and Zhao Youling will definitely be in charge. How could your mentor not be furious? If I were sitting in his place, I’d be just as angry.”
Wang stamped his foot, sighed deeply, and whispered, “Master Huan, you don’t know the whole story. My son, Wang Yuanran, was framed. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have acted so recklessly…”
Even the famously patient Huan Wen wore an expression of anger, muttering under his breath, “Fool! Flies don’t buzz around an uncracked egg. If your son were a decent fellow, would he even have a chance to be framed? The greatest misfortune in a family is having descendants who don’t appreciate their blessings! He’s already caused a catastrophe of epic proportions, and you, as his father, are still thinking about how to cover for him instead of trying to fix the damage. What else can you be called if not a fool?!”
Wang Xionggui stammered, too afraid to argue back. It was hard for outsiders to imagine that a second-rank Minister could be scolded so harshly. Still not satisfied, Huan Wen snatched back the wine bottle and the bag, and bluntly said, “I thought you had finally come to your senses, but it turns out you’re still such a fool. If you can’t even manage your own son, how can you manage the Ministry of Revenue? I, Old Man Huan, have always favored you, but if that’s the case, why don’t you just quit being Minister of Revenue and come work under me in the Menxia Province? It’s still a second-rank position. What do you say? That way, your son won’t be able to strut around with his tail in the clouds, showing off his bare behind for all to see!”
Wang Xionggui turned pale with fear. It was well known throughout the court and the country that Chancellor Zhang Julu’s faction, the Zhang Party, was a continuous lineage, merely adopting the banner of Zhang. In fact, it could be traced back to the mentor of the old Chancellor, who was also the teacher of both Zhang Julu and Huan Wen. The next person to inherit Zhang Julu’s mantle was undoubtedly Wang Xionggui, a consensus shared by all within and outside the Zhang Party. To put it bluntly, even if the Emperor were dissatisfied with Minister Wang and demoted him, sending him to serve in a local post, as long as Zhang and Huan still stood, whether in or out of office, their influence remained formidable. Wang would never truly lose hope of returning to the center of power. However, if Zhang and Huan were to believe that Wang was not up to the task and unworthy of carrying their legacy, then his political career would be over for good.
Huan Wen snorted coldly.
Wang Xionggui fell silent, his expression darkened. After a moment of reflection, he said bitterly, “Master Huan, I know my mistake now. I won’t go in and trouble the Chancellor any further. While there’s still snow on the ground, I’ll return home immediately and have Yuanran kneel in front of Zhao Youling’s house. I will personally go to apologize to Zhao Youling.”
Huan Wen nodded and smiled, “Fuding, you slippery fellow, what nonsense about the snow on the ground? Zhao Youling’s doorstep is already packed with people, spotlessly clean. Show me even a handful of snow if you can? Alright, alright, just knowing you’re sorry is enough. This whole mess might do your son some good, teaching him a lesson. I know you’re probably heartache, and even though you try to act stern, your son can still see the affection in your eyes. Plus, your wife is soft-hearted and can’t resist the boy’s whining afterward. This time, you’ll make him lose a layer of skin, but eventually, you’ll sneak him even more compensation. I’m not confident about that, so you’d better pass on a message to Wang Yuanran for me: if he dares to act up again, I’ll tell Yao Baifeng to send him to the National Academy for three to five years.”
The Minister of Revenue, whose domestic affairs had been personally intervened in by the Old Man Tantai, had tears welling up in his eyes, his lips trembling as he said, “Master Huan, I can never repay your kindness.”
Huan Wen shook his head and sighed, “These little favors I do for you are nothing. It’s the one inside who truly values you. Fuding, you must not disappoint him.”
Wang Xionggui nodded solemnly. Huan Wen handed the wine bottle and the bag back to him. “I came to the palace specifically for you today. I must see this through from beginning to end. Come, let’s go in together and meet our Chancellor.”
Inside Zhanglu, Zhang Julu, with his purple beard and blue eyes, still showed no warmth toward the Minister of Revenue. However, he grudgingly accepted the wine and peanuts. The officials in Zhanglu, busy with their paperwork, secretly lifted their heads and exchanged knowing smiles with the Minister. Wang Xionggui did not stay long and soon took his leave in a hurry. Zhang Julu and Huan Wen went to a special room reserved for receiving guests. Huan Wen, being thoroughly familiar with Zhanglu, fetched some utensils and leisurely started brewing wine. He muttered to himself, “The court always says you and I play the good cop and the bad cop, working together seamlessly. I didn’t feel that way before, but now I can only reluctantly admit it. Tell me, how can Fuding, a capable and ambitious official who has risen to the rank of Minister of Revenue and keeps the Ministry of Revenue running smoothly, still fail to manage his own household?”
Zhang Julu replied calmly, “What’s strange about that? Most officials serve to benefit their descendants. Besides, don’t you see how Wang Yuanran, who suddenly became a pariah in the capital, was actually obedient and clever in front of his elders? This is common among officials’ children. They’re not stupid—they’re too smart. They’ve long been immersed in the art of flattery and bullying, mastering it thoroughly. I’m sure Wang Xionggui only just learned how foolish his youngest son truly is. That’s why so many officials don’t fall at the hands of their political enemies but at the hands of their own descendants. It’s not unusual for father and son to serve together in court, but it’s rare to have three generations serving together. Even if their ranks aren’t high, whether they’re good or bad officials, they’re truly clever ones.”
Huan Wen, his nose red from the cold, sniffed the wine aroma and asked with a smile, “Then tell me, how many generations do you think Beiliang can last?”
Zhang Julu replied calmly, “That’s a question you should ask the mystical Huang Sanjia. I don’t know, nor do I care. What matters is dealing with current affairs. As for how far one can see, it ultimately depends on how far one can walk.”
Huan Wen burst into laughter.
Zhang Julu extended his hand.
Huan Wen was surprised. “Wanting a drink? Blue-eyed old man, are you going to take a concubine? Congratulations, congratulations.”
Zhang Julu gave him a cold look and poured himself a bowl of hot wine. After taking a sip, he smiled and said, “I’ve finally come to my senses.”
Huan Wen nodded. “So have I. As soon as those two letters were sent, I started feeling regret. Heh, looks like both of us have been played. That young man, truly formidable. Using our hands to start cleaning up Beiliang. But now I’m curious—was Jinlü Weaving Commissioner Li Xifeng also deceived, or has he already colluded with Beiliang?”
Zhang Julu countered, “Does it matter?”
Only the Old Man Tantai could truly keep up with Chancellor Zhang’s thoughts. He nodded and said, “That’s true. Li Xifeng has indeed done great deeds, and moreover, he has made Yan Jiexi owe him a tremendous favor. We still need to let him return to the capital with dignity. However, if you had handled it with the same severity you used against the Han family of Jizhou twenty years ago, Li Xifeng wouldn’t have had such fortune.”
Zhang Julu smiled and said, “This year, when I gave my grandson his New Year’s money, I suddenly remembered that I’m already an old man in his fifties. It’s time to have such thoughts.”
Huan Wen exclaimed, “Oh? So you’re finally thinking about planning an exit?”
Zhang Julu shook his head, his eyes resolute as he slowly uttered two words: “No retreat.”
Huan Wen said softly, “Don’t worry. I won’t let you, blue-eyed old man, have no descendants.”
Zhang Julu swirled the wine in his bowl and said with self-mockery, “It’s not easy.”
Suddenly, Huan Wen turned serious and said, “You still have an unmarried daughter, right? In the future, Beiliang might still need a principal consort. What do you think of that idea?”
Zhang Julu laughed in irritation, “Go to hell!”
From afar, the ministers of Zhanglu clearly heard the Chancellor’s vulgar remark, exchanging glances in astonishment.
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