Chapter 0250: No Innocent Souls in Court, Only More Refined Methods

The next day.

Ministers who had stayed up all night, not daring to fall into deep sleep, rode their family carriages into the palace early. Upon reaching the palace gates, they disembarked and sought out their usual allies, huddling together for warmth, hoping to thoroughly understand what had truly happened in the palace the previous night.

To be honest, the palace coup had ended abruptly and inexplicably the night before, with no clear indication of who had ultimately prevailed. Most of the senior ministers present were “novices” when it came to palace coups. After following the late emperor to establish the nation, since Emperor Jian was the late emperor’s only son, he had ascended the throne directly without any coup occurring.

The slightly younger officials were experiencing a palace coup for the first time in their lives and were equally unclear about the process.

Based on their understanding of historical records, they had expected that the Crown Prince would fall into a coma, and the Prince Regent would seize the opportunity to lead elite troops to capture the Crown Prince’s faction and throw them directly into prison. Yet now, the comatose Crown Prince had been sent to the Imperial Hospital, while elite soldiers and imperial guards worked hand in hand to clear the corpses from the palace. The only casualty was the Salt and Iron Commissioner…

Huh?

Wait?

Who died?

Some ministers gradually began to grasp the situation, detecting a whiff of conspiracy. After the clash between the Crown Prince’s faction and the Prince Regent’s faction, not a single minister had been injured or killed—except for Commissioner Sheng, who oversaw the Salt and Iron Office and had always remained neutral.

Speaking of Commissioner Sheng, he was truly a young man of remarkable talent and exceptional family background. Not only was he the grandson of a former dynasty’s prime minister and minister of a board, having been taught excellent statecraft, but his father was also the Chancellor of the Hanlin Academy. He himself moved through the court with ease, rising to the position of Salt and Iron Commissioner in just eight years, controlling the entire Salt and Iron Office and holding sway over Jian’an’s finances and military affairs.

This position was most prone to breeding corruption, yet Sheng Shihai had never made a misstep. He had always been a source of pride for the Chancellor of the Hanlin Academy, who believed he had raised his son to be upright and honest.

But upon closer reflection, how could there be any truly innocent souls in court?

It was likely that this Commissioner Sheng was simply more skilled in his methods.

Given Sheng Shihai’s family background, achievements, and his hidden network of connections, even if evidence were uncovered in the future, many ministers would likely vie to protect him, forcing the emperor to refrain from severe punishment.

Demotion or exile—as long as he wasn’t beheaded—who could guarantee that he wouldn’t stage a comeback and continue to poison the Jian’an Dynasty?

Only through death could the emperor rest assured.

Ministers who had once attached themselves to Sheng Shihai’s faction, bowing and obeying his every command, were already trembling with fear, burning evidence of their collusion with him overnight. They feared that the Crown Prince and the Prince Regent would settle accounts later, jeopardizing their lives.

When the palace gates opened, the ministers suppressed their myriad suspicions and filed in, quickly making their way toward the Golden Luan Hall.

Ascending the vermilion steps before the Golden Luan Hall and looking up, the hall appeared particularly stern and desolate under the overcast sky. The tall, deep-red doors resembled the gaping maw of an abyss, ready to swallow all those with guilty consciences. The white mourning banners hanging high before the doors were like the sharp fangs of a wild beast, cruelly crushing the hopes of those clinging to luck.

A shiver ran through the hearts of all the ministers as they bowed their heads and stepped into the great hall.

In the grand hall, the young man who was usually captivating with his charming smiles now wore a black and gold four-clawed python robe. His eyes, once capable of bewitching hearts and seizing souls, were as cold as ice, seemingly piercing deep into one’s bones. Gone was any trace of frivolous allure that might invite contempt; instead, those who met his gaze felt a chill in their hearts, not daring to look up again.

He still sat on the golden throne beside the dragon seat, but his state of mind was far from what it once was. His gaze was cold and heavy as he watched the ministers entering the hall. His slender index finger, visible beneath the black and gold python robe, tapped rhythmically on the armrest—now light, now heavy. The shadow in his expression made it impossible to guess what he was thinking.

Until the time for court arrived.

Eunuch Zhao gently raised his horsetail whisk and announced in a loud voice, “Court is in session—”

Xie Chengze’s tapping finger paused slightly. Gazing at the ministers below who had turned their eyes toward him, he spoke in a low, gravelly voice, rough as grinding stones, “With a heart full of sorrow, I announce the passing of the late emperor…”

After a moment of silence, the ministers in the hall knelt to the ground, and cries of grief erupted.

“Your Majesty! How could you depart so hastily!”

“This is a national tragedy! This subject’s heart is overwhelmed with sorrow!”

“This subject is heartbroken! Your Majesty, how could you leave your old subjects behind!”

Many ministers wiped their tears with their sleeves, weeping and wailing to the heavens, unable to cease their lamentations. Yet, among them, how many truly grieved?

Xie Chengze watched the ministers’ cries calmly. Only when they had exhausted their wails and run out of words, exchanging awkward glances, did he slowly lower his left hand, which had been propping his cheek, and continue in a measured tone.

“The late emperor, during his reign, achieved both civil governance and military prowess. His virtuous deeds shone brightly, bestowing blessings upon future generations. His merits were so profound they deserve to be recorded in the annals of history for a thousand years.”

“With the early passing of the founding emperor, the nation was newly established, the realm barely pacified, wars not yet fully quelled, the people’s livelihood in disarray, and all endeavors awaiting revival. The late emperor toiled day and night, managing countless affairs. He enacted policies, reduced corvée labor and taxes, and encouraged agriculture and sericulture, gradually enriching the fields and filling the granaries, allowing the common people to live and work in peace. He promoted irrigation to water the farmlands and opened trade routes to invigorate the economy, ensuring the flow of goods across the land and the prosperity of markets throughout the nine provinces.”

“In civil governance, he emphasized education, revitalized schools, recruited talents, and fostered a flourishing literary culture. In military affairs, his ten thousand cavalry swept away rebellions across the land. He reorganized the army, trained elite troops, and awed the borders, rendering great service to the state and benefiting all nations.”

“The late emperor, throughout his life, held the world in his heart, with the common people as his concern. His virtue was like the spring breeze and rain, his achievements as radiant as the sun and moon. Though the dragon has ascended to the heavens, his exemplary deeds and legacy will surely be revered and emulated by future generations, eternally serving as the spiritual backbone of our dynasty, guiding us to forge ahead, defend our homeland, carry on the past, and jointly build an everlasting era of glorious prosperity!”

He took a deep breath. “Now that the late emperor has passed, heaven and earth mourn together. We must prepare his final rites with the highest honors and the sincerest hearts, ensuring the late emperor is laid to rest peacefully, his soul at ease.”

“Minister of Rites, this matter is entrusted to you. Follow the ancestral traditions meticulously, without the slightest negligence.”

“This subject obeys the decree.” The Minister of Rites stepped forward, clasped his hands, and accepted the order.

“Additionally… the news of the late emperor’s passing shall be proclaimed throughout the land. At the same time, console the scholars in the capital. The results of the Palace Examination will be announced as scheduled, without delay.”

“Yes.”

After arranging Emperor Jian’s posthumous affairs, Xie Chengze seemed to shed all his strength, leaning back against the chair and wearily rubbing his temples.

Had he not also stayed awake all night?

“Is there any other matter to report?” he asked indifferently, turning the conversation over to the ministers.

“Your Highness the Prince Regent, with the late emperor’s passing, may we inquire who will succeed…” a minister stepped forward to ask.

“This matter shall be discussed later. The funeral arrangements for my late father are more pressing. During this period, I shall preside over court and handle state affairs until the Crown Prince regains consciousness.”

The ministers exchanged glances. Someone still wished to ask further, but was discreetly pulled back by a colleague.

With the Crown Prince unconscious and the Empress absent, it was evident there were underlying circumstances unknown to them.

Nevertheless, fortunately, the Prince Regent had not pursued the crimes of Sheng Shihai’s subordinates, effectively granting them time to destroy more evidence. The ministers soon concluded the court session and proceeded to arrange the late emperor’s funeral affairs.

Xie Chengze also rose and left the hall, heading toward the Imperial Hospital.