After the court was dismissed, Hai Liangyi refused any assistance. Kong Qiu and the others all knew that the Grand Secretary was stubbornly proud; they only dared to follow behind him, watching as Hai Liangyi shuffled forward alone, moving slowly down the steps.
Hai Liangyi’s official robe was soaked in the slanting glow of the setting sun, like a scar melted into brilliant light. At this time last year he had led the entire court to audience with towering momentum. Now not a trace of that spirited vigor could be found on him.
Hai Liangyi reached the end and stopped. Slowly he turned back, looking at the officials on the steps, then at the last glimmer of sunlight along the flying eaves of the Hall of Clear Reason.
“It’s getting dark,” Hai Liangyi said gently. “Be careful on your way home.”
For reasons he could not explain, fear suddenly rose in Kong Qiu’s heart at that moment. He stepped forward, wanting to support Hai Liangyi, and choked out softly, “Teacher!”
Hai Liangyi waved his hand and turned toward the palace gate.
The line of Prince Yan’s concubine-born grandson was Hai Liangyi’s final defensive line. As he watched the setting sun sink behind the tall buildings, he felt a sense of helplessness. He knew what it would mean if the Han family’s boy ascended the throne. This struggle had lasted thirty years, and his cautious approach of seeking compromise had won nothing.
All he could do was burn himself to the end—throwing even these old bones into the fire—hoping that the sparks that flew out might ignite the night sky that had lain silent for far too long. Great Zhou had entered a long darkness. He seemed to be the last remaining torch, yet even now he could not bring himself to admit that those like Qi Huilian, who had once shared the same destination by different roads, had already lost.
He had watched those geniuses fall like meteors, one after another. In the end, the one left standing had once been the most inconspicuous of them all.
Thirty years ago, Hai Liangyi did not care about victory or defeat. Thirty years later, he exhausted every effort. He walked steadily along his own path, trying to restrain the radical advance of Qi Huilian—but he failed. No one knew that the night the Eastern Palace staff were wiped out entirely had been the most painful moment of Hai Liangyi’s life.
Night had already fallen. By the time Hai Liangyi reached the palace gate, he was gasping for breath. He raised his sleeve to wipe away sweat and saw Yao Wenyu waiting beside the sedan chair. Yao Wenyu helped him into the chair. As he was about to lower the curtain, Hai Liangyi spoke.
“Yuanzhuo, there is one matter weighing on my mind that remains unresolved. Tomorrow you must make a trip to Wucheng for me. Pack your things tonight.”
Several days later, when court convened again, the Empress Dowager had already excused Hai Liangyi from standing. Yet the more she treated him with such courtesy and respect, the more it revealed that her dissatisfaction with him was growing. For several days now, the censors of the Censorate had worked together to lash Han Cheng with relentless criticism. The demand for a public verification of the Han family’s boy grew louder and louder. This wave, tightly rallying around Hai Liangyi, was forcing the Empress Dowager to give ground.
The Empress Dowager had been unable to sleep for nights. Her hesitation had pushed Han Cheng into a desperate corner. Gradually Han Cheng began to understand—this was a plan to use another’s blade to kill him. If he collapsed under the weight of the accusations and died beneath the storm of denunciations, the Empress Dowager could immediately enthrone the Han boy and eliminate any possibility that Han Cheng might seize power. When that moment came, she could concentrate fully on confronting the poor-born officials. Whether she chose to sideline Hai Liangyi or replace the Grand Secretary of the cabinet, she would have far greater freedom than she did now.
Han Cheng refused to accept such an outcome. Having already grasped power and privilege, how could he hand them over? Even if he had to endure, he would outlast Hai Liangyi!
“The situation is unstable,” Han Cheng said after days of fierce verbal battles that had left his mouth covered in sores. “The Libei in the northeast are watching like tigers, and Zhongbo in the east is stirring restlessly. If the cabinet keeps delaying the matter of the crown prince, if there is no new emperor, is the whole realm supposed to follow the Grand Secretary’s command?” He flung out his sleeve. “In my opinion, the Grand Secretary is gathering factions and obstructing the establishment of the heir. Such intentions deserve condemnation!”
“You slander with blood in your mouth!” Cen Yu, chief among the censors, shouted sharply. “We have discussed the matter of the heir day after day. You, Commander, refuse to allow a public verification of the imperial descendant. Who exactly is obstructing the appointment of the heir? Earlier the realm was united in heart. If you had not insisted on surrounding and arresting Dingdu Marquis Xiao Chiye, how would Qudu have fallen into such a predicament? If responsibility must be assigned, you should be the first to bear it!”
“Good!” Han Cheng sneered, pointing at Cen Yu. “Xiao Chiye assassinated the late emperor. As Commander of the Imperial Guards and Supervisor of the Eight Camps, it was only natural for me to pursue him! If you say I was wrong, then you’re saying he was right to commit the assassination! You are close friends with Xiao Chiye and Shen Zechuan. Cen Xunyi, the Ministry of Justice didn’t investigate you, did it? Kong Boran—you two truly deserve each other as classmates and friends. I envy you!”
Anger appeared on Kong Qiu’s face. “What nonsense are you spouting? Whether Xiao Chiye assassinated the late emperor is still under investigation. If we rely solely on your empty accusations, the Ministry of Justice might as well close its doors. Besides, when we gathered for private banquets, were you not present? You drank plenty yourself!”
Han Cheng replied, “I am Imperial Guard. Recording events at any moment is my duty. If I had not attended the private gatherings of you high ministers, how could I have heard everything clearly? I have already had the discussions of that night transcribed and presented to the Empress Dowager. I am innocent. Are you brave enough to do the same?”
Pan Xiangjie had once been helped by Xiao Chiye and had been keeping his head down in court lately, afraid of being dragged into the matter. Han Cheng’s power was now overwhelming; wherever he pointed, others followed. Seeing the quarrel escalate again, Pan Xiangjie’s lips moved slightly, but he stepped back quietly and did not dare speak, determined to remain a turtle with its head tucked in.
The sides gradually began outright shouting. Cen Yu had the sharpest tongue and cursed Han Cheng until he seemed less than human. Even if Han Cheng wanted to endure it, rage was already surging through his body. His finger trembled as he pointed at Cen Yu. Yet he remained clear-headed. Suddenly he shut his eyes, dropped to his knees, and burst into loud sobs.
“Empress Dowager!” Han Cheng cried as he prostrated himself. “My heart is like the moon—bright and pure! Surrounding Xiao Chiye was my fault. The assassination of the late emperor was my fault. Even the lack of a crown prince now is my fault! I am but a subject, willing to die for my ruler and accept any punishment. If there are crimes, they are all mine—Han Cheng’s crimes! Whether you kill me alone or exterminate my entire family, whatever judgment you make, I will accept it!”
Kong Qiu found the man shameless. He immediately removed his official hat and said, “I am ashamed to stand among such petty villains! If the imperial descendant cannot undergo public verification, then I, Kong Boran, will not hold this office either!”
The Empress Dowager suddenly rose and lifted the pearl curtain, sweeping her gaze coldly across them one by one before settling on Han Cheng.
“This is court deliberation. Why are you crying? Stand up!” Then she looked at Kong Qiu. “You have entered the cabinet and serve as Deputy Grand Secretary, responsible for governing the state. Yet you threaten resignation at every turn. Are you trying to force me into submission, or seeking fame for yourself? You know that best. Ever since I assumed the authority of the Son of Heaven, every matter—large or small—I have consulted the cabinet in detail. What issue cannot be explained? Why must you press me step by step like this?”
All the officials knelt.
“Our ancestors decreed that the inner palace must not interfere in politics. I have already overstepped that boundary repeatedly and feel ashamed before them. Jianheng died suddenly. If you had not begged me again and again, would I ever have returned to the front court to handle affairs? Now there is no emperor, and I have no children beneath my knee. I am nothing but a lonely widow…” Tears filled her eyes. “When Lord Guangcheng was alive, when did he ever allow me to suffer such humiliation?!”
Han Cheng seemed deeply moved by the devotion between emperor and empress. Prostrating himself, he wept loudly.
“When Lord Guangcheng was alive, I too was never treated like this. I know I am a crude and shallow man, nothing more than a soldier. I dare not compare myself to the cabinet ministers, nor contend with the Grand Secretary’s brilliance. I returned the imperial descendant to the court out of loyalty and love for the Li family. Grand Secretary—why has it come to this?!”
Han Cheng repeatedly redirected the flames toward Hai Liangyi. Kong Qiu felt suffocated with anger.
“Empress Dowager… the Grand Secretary’s heart is clear to Heaven itself. The matter of establishing the heir is no small affair. Difficulties surround us on all sides. Great Zhou has reached a moment of life and death. If we do not proceed with utmost caution, the consequences will be endless…”
“I understand that as well,” the Empress Dowager said after regaining her composure. “That is precisely why I have gathered all of you here for days of discussion. Since Lord Guangcheng’s passing, the imperial line has dwindled to the point that now we cannot even find a suitable heir. The more difficult the times, the more we must unite. Han Cheng, hand over Lord Guangcheng’s private letter so that everyone present may examine it.”
But how could Han Cheng possess such a letter of entrustment? He refused to produce it because he was competing with Hai Liangyi and the Empress Dowager to see who could delay longer. Once Hai Liangyi relented and the tide of poor-born officials dispersed, the Empress Dowager’s ambition to rule personally would become impossible to conceal. At that point she would have no choice but to enthrone the Han boy in his hands. Then he would become the true regent entrusted by the late emperor, and the Han family’s prosperity would lie right before him. Now that the Empress Dowager was trying to force him to his death first, he understood perfectly—and so he cried even louder.
Han Cheng pounded his chest.
“If you doubt my loyal heart, you might as well let me die! My brother—my own brother! He was taken hostage in Cizhou while pursuing Xiao Chiye. I lost an eye for the late emperor and endured three sword wounds for Lord Guangcheng. Would I really deceive the entire realm for selfish gain like some petty scoundrel?!”
Their accusations were nothing but naked self-interest. Cries and curses filled the court. No one mentioned Prince Yan’s line again. Kong Qiu knelt there, but his heart had already grown cold.
Hai Liangyi had not spoken a single word that day. Supporting himself on the arm of his chair, he suddenly stood up.
Countless gazes converged upon him. The poor-born officials hoped the Grand Secretary could reverse the situation and restore order once more. The aristocratic officials remained silent, waiting for their chance. They watched Hai Liangyi just as they always had.
Hai Liangyi began to cough. His gaunt hand trembled as he covered blood with a handkerchief. After swallowing, he slowly surveyed the great hall, then the faces within it, and finally looked at the Empress Dowager.
“When the Li family first rose to kingship, the realm endured years of warfare before finally uniting. For a hundred years, every minister of Great Zhou has devoted himself with utmost effort. During the Yongyi era, though the walls of Qudu had grown old, their spirit still stood firm. At the beginning of Yongyi, Qi Huilian of Yuzhou achieved the highest honors in the examinations three times in succession, and the Imperial Academy flourished. The three masters of the Yao family, though born to aristocratic houses, opened the way for free discussion and promoted worthy men without regard to background. Many of the poor scholars still present in court today entered government during that time.”
Kong Qiu lowered his head. As those memories returned, he could not help but sob quietly.
“Yet the Yongyi revival was but a flash of brilliance. Within ten years Lord Guangcheng fell ill. After that the aristocratic families flourished once more. Their obsession with pedigree divided the Imperial Academy. From the Yongyi era to the Xiande era, not a single poor scholar entered Qudu’s court. It became a court of noble families.”
Pan Xiangjie looked embarrassed, kowtowing silently.
Han Cheng tried to speak, but Hai Liangyi suddenly raised his voice.
“During the Xiande era the state treasury was empty. I demanded that Hua Siqian account for the funds, yet he colluded with the aristocratic ministers then serving as heads of the various ministries to evade the issue repeatedly! That same year disaster struck Juexi and the people starved in misery. Again I forced Hua Siqian to present the accounts. He gave evasive answers. Soon after, Zhongbo suffered defeat in war, and overnight the granaries of six provinces were emptied! To this day Hua Siqian has never explained where that grain went! Is it his crime—or the crime of all of you who enabled him?!”
Pan Xiangjie was startled. “At the time the Court of Judicial Review had already—”
“I, Hai Renshi, since returning to court, have repeatedly petitioned for a public verification of the Han family’s imperial descendant. Han Cheng has hesitated and refuses to produce the letter of entrustment. With no alternative, I led the cabinet to examine the imperial genealogy and ultimately petitioned the Empress Dowager to establish the line of Prince Yan of Huaizhou as the heir. But to no result.”
The Empress Dowager staggered back a step from his rising intensity. The pearl curtain clattered against her as she stared at Hai Liangyi in shock.
Hai Liangyi was burning. The anger in his chest had been suppressed for thirty years. Now it blazed forth, restoring his spirit, shocking the entire court.
“The decline of the state—this is my failure as Grand Secretary! All my life I have advised my sovereign. Whether my counsel was accepted or not, I never feared! Since I cannot persuade in life, then today I will remonstrate with my death for Great Zhou! The heir may be established—but the Han family boy must never be enthroned! The heir may be established—”
In a flash his sleeve rose like burning leaves caught by the wind. Then came a thunderous crash, and blood sprayed across the hall.
The entire court fell into dead silence. The Empress Dowager’s limbs turned cold; she nearly collapsed. Her gaze struggled to follow the arc of blood until it landed upon Hai Liangyi.
Within moments the officials erupted in alarm. Kong Qiu practically crawled forward on his knees, supporting Hai Liangyi.
“Renshi…” the Empress Dowager’s voice trembled. “Why… why come to this…”
With that single blow, Hai Liangyi completely cut off Han Cheng’s retreat. By dying he ignited the fury of scholars throughout the realm. The Han boy would never become emperor. Whoever dared defy the outrage of the literati would become a target of scorn for generations to come. Yet even Han Cheng sat stunned on the ground—he had never imagined Hai Liangyi would act with such final resolve.
Hai Liangyi’s face was covered in blood as he lay back, staring up at the unreachable vault above.
All his life he had sought stability. Yet in this final moment he acted once with radical boldness, becoming a blazing sun bursting forth from Great Zhou—igniting countless lights in the black night. The crane embroidered on his chest was soaked red. With the last of his strength he gripped Kong Qiu’s hand tightly.
“Boran…” Hai Liangyi said softly. “I… did my best.”