Stone Heart Knocks on the Door
The fragrance of ink from the Hanlin Academy seemed to have seeped into his very bones. Even when walking through the deep palace corridors, Shen Yu carried a calm and scholarly air that was beyond his years.
In a few months, he will leave the capital and enter the world alone.
His luggage was already packed, but one thing weighed heavily on his mind, preventing him from leaving in peace.
The smell of medicine in the emperor's bedchamber had faded slightly, but the atmosphere of deep-seated illness and depression had not dissipated.
After Wang Jin announced the arrival, Shen Yu quietly entered the inner hall.
Wei Jin leaned against the couch, reviewing several urgent memorials. His face was still pale, but a sharp, strained look remained between his brows. Upon seeing him, Wei Jin put down his vermilion brush, his gaze softening slightly. He always treated this child differently. This was a rough gem personally sculpted by Ling Zhan, into which countless efforts had been poured. In some ways, he even felt that Little Stone was more like Ling Zhan's "own child," inheriting her calmness and inner resilience.
"Yu'er, is today a day off?" Wei Jin asked, his voice still hoarse from illness.
Shen Yu bowed respectfully, his posture impeccable: "Reporting to Father Emperor, I have finished my history studies today and have come to pay my respects to you."
He stepped forward, unlike his other brothers who were either worried or timid. He simply picked up the medicine cup that was warming on the small stove, tested the temperature, and then handed it to Wei Jin.
Wei Jin glanced at him, took the medicine bowl, and drank it all in one gulp without even frowning.
Shen Yu took the empty bowl and put it down, but did not take his leave as usual.
He stood quietly before the bed, his clear gaze falling on his father's slightly haggard face, and remained silent for a moment.
Wei Jin sensed something was wrong: "Is something the matter?"
Shen Yu raised her eyes, and in those precocious eyes that resembled Ling Zhan's, there was no fear, only a deep worry and determination.
"Father!"
He changed his form of address, his voice low but extremely clear, "Your subject has been reading history recently and has often pondered one matter."
"Oh? What are you thinking about?" Wei Jin raised an eyebrow slightly, showing some interest.
"Your subject ponders, can a ruler truly always face his own conscience? Are the choices he makes forced by the times, the expectations of others, or... truly what he needs from the bottom of his heart?" His words were precise, unlike those of a young man, but rather like those of a mature scholar discussing a difficult problem.
Wei Jin's eyes flickered slightly as he leaned back on the pillow, looking at the top scholar who was already famous throughout the land at the young age of fourteen.
Why did you suddenly ask this question?
Shen Yu stepped forward, his gaze meeting his father's without flinching, a gaze that seemed to penetrate the emperor's majesty and see into the depths of his being.
"Your son is about to embark on a long journey, and what I worry about most are your father and mother."
He spoke steadily, yet every word was earnest, “Father, what you are doing now is forcing yourself to be sick, harboring resentment in your heart, and even… even tacitly approving the selection of concubines and taking in many more. Your son wants to ask, is this truly what Father desires? Does Father wish for no more peace in this deep palace, for being surrounded by scheming? Does Father wish for the rift between you and Mother to deepen until… you can no longer speak to each other?”
Wei Jin's face darkened, not because he felt offended, but because those words were like a needle, precisely piercing his hardened facade and touching the festering sore he didn't want to face. He instinctively tried to suppress the conversation with his imperial authority.
"Yu'er, this is not something you should concern yourself with." The voice carried its usual coldness.
However, Shen Yu did not back down. He grew up by Ling Zhan's side and learned not to fear authority, but to pursue the essence of things.
"Your subject is not interfering in court affairs in his capacity as a Hanlin Compiler." His voice remained calm, yet carried an undeniable strength. "Your subject is asking your father as a son. Father, are you happy? Is this the life you desired back in Kaoshan Village, or later when you were fighting in the business world of Qingzhou?"
"If this is not what your heart desires, why continue?"
The boy's clear voice echoed in the silent hall, carrying a cruel naiveté and frankness, "You taught me that to do what is impossible is courage. But if the direction is wrong from the start, isn't persisting... an even greater absurdity?"
Wei Jin suddenly gripped the brocade quilt in his hand, his knuckles turning white.
He stared intently at his audacious son, his chest heaving with anger, yet he couldn't utter a single word in rebuttal.
Because every word he asked struck at his deepest doubts and pain.
Leaving the suffocating atmosphere of the Qianqing Palace, Shen Yu turned and headed towards the side hall where her mother usually handled matters related to "mountains, seas, and millet".
The atmosphere here is completely different, with the fresh scent of dry grains mixed with the aroma of ink. Ling Zhan is looking down at a huge map, his fingertips tracing the northwestern territory, as if he is calculating something.
“Mother,” Shen Yu called softly.
Ling Zhan looked up and saw it was him. His cold gaze softened slightly: "Yu'er, you've come at the right time. Take a look at this allocation of grain seeds for the Northwest reclamation project. Are there any omissions?" She subconsciously regarded him as a companion with whom she could discuss matters, just as she always did.
Shen Yu stepped forward, but did not look at the map.
He simply watched his mother quietly. She remained calm and strong, focused on her country and its people, as if the recent turmoil had left no trace on her. But he could see a faint trace of weariness and confusion deep in her eyes, a trace that even she herself might not have noticed.
“Mother,” he began, his voice softer than when he spoke to his father, yet equally direct, “I will soon be leaving the capital.”
Ling Zhan paused, raised his head, and looked at him directly: "Hmm. Is everything prepared? Is there enough money?"
"Everything is ready."
Shen Yu answered, then paused for a moment, as if carefully choosing his words, "After I leave the capital, I will visit many places and meet many people. But no matter how far I go, when I think of the capital, of Father and Mother, I hope to think of a home that will bring me peace of mind, not..."
He paused, then chose a gentler yet equally sharper word: "...rather than a palace filled with calculation and chill."
Ling Zhan's brows furrowed slightly.
Shen Yu continued, his gaze falling on his mother's thinning face: "Mother, do you really want to see Father living in such an environment in the future? Surrounded by countless women with all sorts of ulterior motives, where every smile might hide a scheme, and every word of concern might come with a price tag? All they want is an offspring with the blood of the 'emperor,' and no one cares whether His Majesty is happy or healthy."
He saw his mother's fingers, which were hanging at her sides, curl up almost imperceptibly.
Even Aunt Su…
Shen Yu's voice lowered, carrying a hint of genuine sorrow.
“She came with us from Kaoshan Village, taught me and Sister Susu to read and do accounting, and sewed clothes for us. She was like family to us. But for the sake of an ‘emperor’s offspring,’ she could disregard all past affection and make my mother and father so sad.”
He raised his eyes, his gaze clear as a mirror, reflecting Ling Zhan's slightly evasive look.
"If Aunt Su is like this, then how will those other completely unfamiliar women and families, backed by powerful clans and with more direct self-interest, treat Father?"
“Mother,” the boy stepped forward, his voice pleading, “aren’t you really heartbroken about this?”
"You taught me to look directly into my own heart and to distinguish right from wrong. Now, can your heart truly accept all of this calmly?"
Ling Zhan abruptly turned his back and looked out the window, leaving his son with only a straight but inexplicably lonely back view.
She didn't say anything.
Only the rustling of the wind through the bamboo leaves outside the window and the lingering echo of the boy's question to the heart remained in the side hall for a long time.
Shen Yu knew he had finished speaking. He bowed respectfully.
"Your subject takes his leave. Please take care, Mother."
He quietly slipped out and gently closed the door behind him.
Inside the hall, Ling Zhan remained standing in the same spot, his gaze fixed on the map, where the vast northwestern territory suddenly became blurry. What appeared clearly before him, however, was Wei Jin's pale and taut face, and his unfathomable eyes, which held countless moments of weariness and loneliness.
She instinctively pressed her hand to her chest, where the sharp pain from Shen Yu's words still lingered. She had to admit that her son's words were like a precise scalpel, dissecting the emotional wound she had been trying to cover up with "reason" and "the bigger picture"—she cared, she cared deeply, and the thought of Wei Jin being surrounded and schemed against by such a group of people filled her with an almost physical disgust and heartache.
In the stillness of the night, she dismissed her attendants and personally cooked a bowl of bone broth, adding only a touch of coarse salt, ensuring it was cooked to perfection. Back when they first arrived in Kaoshan Village, relying on her hunting, the whole family would cheer and fall asleep each night if they could have a sip of this soup. She carried the soup to the emperor's bedchamber.
Unexpectedly, Wei Jin was sitting at the entrance of the palace, glancing at her sideways.
She didn't know what to say, and only asked, "Have you had dinner?"
"I have no appetite."
"Try this soup; you really liked it when you were in Kaoshan Village." She served the soup, her movements a little stiff.
Wei Jin glanced at her, then gulped down the broth in a few mouthfuls, saying, "It still tastes the same—"
She instinctively pressed her hand to her chest, feeling a strange, sharp pain. She grabbed the soup bowl back, saying, "It's getting late, you should get some rest." Then she ran away as if fleeing.
The next day, as dawn broke, the light failed to penetrate the stagnant air within the Zichen Palace.
On the dragon throne, Wei Jin's face was still pale from illness, but his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's as he scanned the assembled officials of His Majesty. An invisible, suppressed aura of violence emanated from him, causing the Minister of Revenue, who was about to report on spring plowing, to swallow his words.
In the midst of an eerie silence, Wei Jin suddenly spoke, his voice carrying a casual yet chilling tone.
"How's the talent show going?" He asked, as if suddenly remembering a trivial matter.
The Minister of Rites was taken aback, then quickly stepped forward and bowed: "Your Majesty, the preliminary selection is complete. Fifty-six names have been selected, all of whom are virtuous ladies from respectable families. The list and portraits have been sent to the Cining Palace and the Shou Kang Palace..."
"A clean family background? Outstanding moral character?"
Wei Jin interrupted him, a half-smile curving his lips, but his eyes were chillingly cold. "How come I heard that among those who left their names, some of the ladies' fathers and brothers were arguing fiercely at the Ministry of Revenue just a few days ago about the rerouting of the Grand Canal? And some of them had their family estates impeached by the censors for forcibly seizing farmland at the end of last year?"
The hall fell silent instantly, and cold sweat broke out on the foreheads of the ministers who had been called upon.
The Minister of Rites' legs went weak: "Your Majesty... this... the selection of imperial concubines should only consider the woman herself..."
"itself?"
Wei Jin leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the armrests of the dragon throne, his fingertips lightly tapping his temples. His posture was not like that of an emperor, but rather resembled that of Shen Yan back in the Qingzhou shop, plotting how to swindle his opponent. "Their 'true selves' are nothing more than the families behind them, aren't they? What, when I fell ill, even my mind became muddled?"
His voice suddenly turned cold, like ice shards hitting the ground: "Or do you think that my harem is a good place to mediate court disputes and settle old grudges?!"
"We dare not!" The ministers knelt down in unison.
Wei Jin seemed not to see it, his gaze lazily sweeping over the list of candidates for the imperial concubines that the eunuch had tremblingly brought forward. He casually flipped through a few pages, his fingertip pointing at a few places.
“This, the granddaughter of the Duke of Anguo… I remember the Duke of Anguo’s grandson, didn’t he break his leg in a fall while hunting the year before last? I heard he’s a bit melancholy? No, no, don’t delay that young lady.”
"And this one, the daughter of Minister Li... Minister Li is an upright man, but too upright. I heard that his daughter started reading 'Admonitions for Women' and 'Biographies of Exemplary Women' when she was seven years old? How boring, I'm afraid she'll get bored."
He nitpicked at the most illustrious young women, whom the court officials tacitly agreed were the most likely to be selected, as if he were appraising merciless goods. His reasons were absurd and harsh, rubbing the face of their families into the ground.
The entire court was dumbfounded, never having seen an emperor handle such a "state affair" as the imperial selection in such a "rogue" manner.
Finally, Wei Jin closed the list, waving his hand as if utterly exhausted and annoyed.
"Forget it, just looking at them gives me a headache. I think these few are all quite good, let's arrange the marriages."
He casually named several members of the royal family who were of marriageable age but had no real power or were mild-mannered.
"The granddaughter of Duke Anguo shall be betrothed to the heir of Prince Chun. The daughter of Minister Li is a perfect match for the third son of my sixteenth uncle... So be it, draft the decree."
The faces of the representatives from the noble families who were mentioned instantly turned ashen.
They originally intended to send their daughter into the imperial harem to gain immense wealth and even compete for the future position of crown prince.
To everyone's surprise, the emperor so casually tossed it to a marginal member of the imperial family! This was an utter disgrace!
Several ministers who were close to Duke Anguo and Vice Minister Li, though not named, were already ashen-faced and their backs were drenched in cold sweat. If His Majesty could treat Duke Anguo and Vice Minister Li this way today, how could he not treat them the same way in the future?
The ruthlessness and machinations of emperors are truly astounding!
Some officials from humble backgrounds or those from poor families, though apprehensive about the unpredictable nature of the emperor's power, may not have been entirely without a sense of satisfaction.
Seeing these powerful families, who usually relied on nepotism and had deep-rooted connections, suffer such a great loss, and witnessing His Majesty swiftly sever their tentacles reaching into the inner palace, filled me with both shock and awe.
Even in his illness, this emperor was by no means a ruler to be manipulated at will.
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