Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Emperor's Strategy

As the sun set, the lamps in the Imperial Study were already lit. The candles on the gilded dragon candlesticks burned quietly, casting the emperor Zhen Jiancheng's tall and imposing figure onto the vermilion-lacquered and carved pillars, swaying slightly with his steps.

The head eunuch had quietly entered twice to refill the tea, then silently withdrew. On one side of the imperial desk, a mountain of memorials had been half-read; the vermilion brush rested beside the inkstone, the ink still fresh. In the very center of the desk, in the most prominent position, lay an urgent memorial from the northern border—King Sutan of the grasslands was requesting a marriage for his youngest daughter, Yuanya, to the seventh prince, Yunji.

The emperor did not immediately reply. He stood with his hands behind his back before the desk, his deep gaze sweeping over the neat handwriting on the memorial, but his thoughts had already traveled through time, back to the glorious years of his early reign.

At that time, he had just ascended the throne, his power base unstable, and the court rife with intrigue. Under the guidance of his mother's family's remaining influence and the pressures of reality, he was forced to use marriage as leverage to weave a web to maintain the balance of power. Empress Ye, from the family of the Minister of Personnel, possessed an dignified and graceful demeanor, but behind this lay the Ye family's immense influence in the selection of officials. The other imperial concubines were also daughters of high-ranking officials such as those in the Ministry of Rites and the Crown Prince's tutor; behind each title lay the deeply entrenched power of the previous dynasty.

These in-laws initially helped him stabilize his throne amidst turbulent times. However, times changed, and those who had once helped him consolidate his power, now holding high positions in the court and being imperial relatives, inevitably developed arrogance over time. They formed cliques, engaged in infighting, and constantly hampered his strategies for governing the country. Their influence even extended to the military.

Fortunately, there was the loyal and devoted General Guo An, whose son, Guo Qiyu, was also a leading figure among the younger generation, brave and skilled in battle. The Guo family did not participate in factional struggles, but only served the imperial power, which barely kept those with growing ambitions in check. However, even with loyal ministers and generals, the Guo family was still marginalized and criticized by other forces in the court. Their main army was often transferred to the frontier, ostensibly to "guard the country's gates," but in reality, it was a form of invisible suppression and alienation.

Even more problematic was the issue of offspring. To perpetuate their family's power, the inner palace and the court were closely intertwined. The Empress had remained celibate since giving birth to the eldest princess. All factions knew that whoever gave birth to a prince before the Empress would be the de facto "eldest son of equal primogeniture," a matter of national importance and the future of the court for decades to come. Thus, a silent power struggle unfolded within the palace. The second and fourth princes were born in succession, and their maternal families rose in status accordingly. The Empress's family was not about to be outdone. Soon, a young and beautiful niece from the Ye family was sent to the palace, and she soon gave birth to the thirteenth prince…

"Heh..." A barely perceptible sneer flickered across the emperor's lips. To him, these were nothing more than pawns on a chessboard. They were unimportant. As long as the empress didn't give birth to a legitimate eldest son, everything else remained under control. He had long seen through the undercurrents beneath this facade of prosperity, and decided to observe the situation, watching the princes and their maternal families check and balance each other, weakening one another. With the crown prince's position vacant, those eager to take sides wouldn't dare act rashly, and his plan to reorganize the court and reclaim power could be implemented step by step under the guise of balancing the various factions.

Countless lonely moments spent reviewing memorials late into the night, countless times arguing with various factions in the court, he would silently recite the name that supported him: "Zhili, I am waiting, waiting for our son to grow up... waiting for him to be strong enough to take over this vast country and live up to your sacrifice for protecting me back then."

Time flies like an arrow; in the blink of an eye, the seventh prince, Yunji, who was once alone and almost forgotten in the palace, is approaching the age to be enfeoffed as a prince. For the past two years, calls for establishing an heir apparent have never ceased in the court. On the surface, the ministers are concerned about the future of the princes, but in reality, each has their own agenda, wanting to pressure him to establish the heir apparent as soon as possible so that a new round of power struggles and division can take place.

The seventh prince, Yunji, came from an obscure family and was not particularly prominent in the palace; in fact, he could be considered marginalized. To many court officials, "exiling" him to the remote and arduous frontier would undoubtedly remove a thorn in their side, a potential obstacle to their plans. Thus, with the tacit recommendation of General Guo An and Prime Minister Lu Xian, the officials readily agreed and "exiled" the seventh prince, who had been unable to establish a fiefdom for some time, to the northern border.

Little did they know, this was exactly what the emperor wanted.

At that time, only by going far away could Yunji quell the many criticisms and speculations caused by his failure to establish a fiefdom; only by staying away from the impending bloodshed and fratricide in the capital; and more importantly, only by leaving the confines of the palace walls and going to the border could he, as the current prince, legitimately make friends with foreign officials, establish military prestige, accumulate political achievements, win the hearts of the people... and truly grow up.

At this very moment, the memorial requesting a marriage alliance on his desk was a crucial step for Yunji's return from his military training and his ambition to become crown prince. The threat from the Xiongnu had been a chronic problem that had plagued the Central Plains dynasties for many years. If they could use this marriage alliance to turn hostility into friendship, it would not only be equivalent to winning back the hearts and minds of the people and winning back lost territory, but it would also ensure the peace and security of the borders for a century—an unparalleled achievement. Everything seemed to be progressing step by step according to his meticulous plan.

However, even the most intricate chess game is not immune to unpredictable changes.

The Emperor's thoughts involuntarily drifted back two years. From that chance encounter at Canglang Pavilion, the woman—Guo Huairou—with her serene demeanor and clear, bright eyes, had left an indelible mark on his heart. He sensed her extraordinary concern for Yunji; it wasn't merely the loyalty of a study companion to a prince, but rather a protectiveness ingrained in her very being. Later, on that night in Guanghe Palace, she was delirious with a high fever, helplessly murmuring in her nightmares, calling out the name "Yunji."

In this vast and deep palace, there are those who scheme and plot, and those who flatter and fawn, but it is rare to find someone who cares for Yunji as purely and selflessly as she does. This affection brings him, as her father, both comfort and a vague sense of unease.

If the two are mutually interested… given Yunji's sentimental nature, it would be difficult for him to wholeheartedly marry the daughter of Sutan. Abandoning the marriage alliance would be a heavy blow to Yunji's reputation and future. Moreover, Huairou is the daughter of the Guo family, which has frequent dealings with the Sutan tribe on the border, and in a sense, is a potential rival. If Yunji marries Guo Huairou but rejects the Sutan king's overtures, it would be tantamount to declaring to the various tribes of the grasslands a silent rejection of the alliance, with unimaginable consequences.

Thinking of this, the emperor tightened his breathing slightly, a feeling of indescribable tightness rising in his chest.

Moreover… in the past two years, the letters exchanged with Huairou via carrier pigeon had become the only much-anticipated respite he could find after dealing with the myriad trivialities of the palace and the endless strife among the court officials. Her insights were often incisive, and her writing possessed a calming power that soothed the soul. He had long been accustomed to reading her letters, faintly scented with floral fragrance, by candlelight, as if he could touch that intelligent yet contradictory soul through the handwriting.

Yet, upon learning of the proposed marriage, her reply was surprisingly rational and supportive, even actively persuading Yunji to accept it. This seems somewhat contradictory… Could it be because she already had a marriage agreement with Lu Binghui, the son of the current prime minister?

Lu Binghui… The image of that handsome, well-mannered young man flashed through the Emperor's mind. He was indeed Huairou's classmate, with a dignified appearance and outstanding talent. At a young age, he had already assumed a position in the Secretariat, with a promising future ahead. In terms of family background, talent, and appearance, he and Huairou were a perfect match. Compared to him, Yunji, this seemingly noble but actually precarious prince, aside from that special emotional bond, might, in terms of worldly considerations, perhaps… only have a narrow advantage? Or perhaps, no chance at all?

The thought flashed through his mind, and even the usually composed emperor felt a strange restlessness and...resentment. The imperial edict transferring Lu Binghui to Ganzhou had perhaps already revealed his own restless and unresolved feelings.

However, reason quickly returned. He was the emperor, Yunji's father, the helmsman of this vast empire. Personal, vague feelings of affection seemed so insignificant, even... dangerous, compared to the fate of the nation and his own flesh and blood.

We can't wait any longer.

The emperor took a deep breath, suppressing the turbulent emotions surging within him, and turned back to his desk. He picked up his vermilion brush, dipped it in thick ink, and on the memorial concerning the stability of the northern border and the future of the princes, he wrote two powerful characters that seemed to penetrate the paper:

"Granted."

With a stroke of the pen, the fate of heaven and earth is sealed.

Only when Yunji has the military strength and support of both our dynasty and the Xiongnu behind him will he truly possess the substantial resources to secure his place in the world and ultimately conquer it. At that time, those treacherous officials in the court will no longer dare to underestimate him.

"Parents who love their children plan far ahead for them..." The emperor put down his vermilion brush and whispered, as if convincing himself, or as if making a promise to that woman in a distant time and space, "Zhili, our son must get married. This is... the path he must take."

Inside the imperial study, the candlelight still shone brightly, illuminating the emperor's lonely yet resolute figure. Outside the window, the night was deep, and the Milky Way was sparse.