It was the third watch of the Tiger—the hour when the sky was just beginning to pale—when Gu Huaiyu’s warm palanquin came to a halt on the palace’s imperial path.
The Captain of the Guard knelt with perfect posture, his forehead pressed against the cold blue bricks. From the corner of his eye, he saw a pair of black official boots step onto the dragon-patterned tiles. It was the “Dragon-Treading” privilege bestowed by the late Emperor, an honor unique to the Lord Chancellor.
“Morning greetings to the Lord Chancellor!”
Eunuch Xu approached with a palace lantern, scurrying forward with his back hunched like a shrimp. “His Majesty has been waiting in the Hall of Chaste Government since the start of the Tiger hour…”
Gu Huaiyu reached out to steady him. “Eunuch Xu, you are too polite.”
Eunuch Xu felt a wave of overwhelmed gratitude. As the Head Eunuch serving the Son of Heaven, he was usually a figure of immense prestige; officials from all across the court treated him with the utmost deference. Yet, in front of Chancellor Gu, he knew to keep his tail tucked between his legs.
“During the three days you were ill, His Majesty was so frantic he nearly upended the Imperial Academy of Medicine!” Eunuch Xu followed closely behind him. “For the past few days, His Majesty refused to see any officials who requested an audience. He spent his time solely transcribing sutras to pray for your well-being.”
Gu Huaiyu walked forward, his expression unreadable.
Inside the Hall of Chaste Government, the charcoal fires were burning bright. It was only mid-autumn, not yet the season for heating the palace, but this fire burned solely for one person.
Upon hearing the clatter of the bead curtains, Yuan Zhuo rose hurriedly. The stacks of memorials on his desk remained separated into two piles as per custom: the left pile bore the Chancellor’s vermilion seal, while the right remained blank, waiting for the Emperor’s jade seal.
The young Emperor stepped forward to meet him. His handsome, fair face was flushed from the heat, and a thin layer of sweat dampened his forehead. “Minister, you’ve come.”
He paused, his gaze fixed on the wound at the corner of Gu Huaiyu’s brow. On that flawless, jade-like skin, the red mark looked like rouge glaze painted onto fine white porcelain.
Gu Huaiyu shed his wolf-fur cloak, his bright crimson official robes further accentuating his ethereal, jade-like grace. “Has Your Majesty read all the memorials I sent over?”
The Emperor familiarly took the cloak from him and handed it to Eunuch Xu. “The Minister is sensitive to the cold. Go and stoke the floor heaters higher.”
“I have finished them all.” Yuan Zhuo dropped his gaze to Gu Huaiyu’s chest, not daring to look at that face for too long. “Does the Minister’s wound still hurt?”
Gu Huaiyu closed his eyes slightly as he observed him. The youth looked no different from his memories. “It does not.”
Yuan Zhuo stared at the floor, suddenly gripping his sleeves tightly. His voice carried the sharp, suppressed rage of a teenager. “The Minister’s wounds have not even healed, yet someone dared to break into the prison. I shall have those rebels flayed alive!”
The corner of Gu Huaiyu’s lip twitched almost imperceptibly. He spoke with airy indifference. “It was merely a jailbreak. Why should Your Majesty be so enraged?”
The fire in Yuan Zhuo’s eyes did not fade; his voice grew lower. “You are my—a vital pillar of the state. They dared to touch you; I will never show them mercy.”
Gu Huaiyu had no intention of letting the boy interfere in his business. He reminded him softly, “I have my own plans for my affairs. Your Majesty should focus on the administration of the empire.”
Yuan Zhuo’s breath hitched. He looked up. “Your Iron Eagle Guard has too few men. I have selected several dozen members of the Imperial Guard, all from families with clean backgrounds…”
Gu Huaiyu felt a pang of amusement. As expected, this was a young tiger who couldn’t quite hide its claws.
Seeing the silence, Yuan Zhuo panicked slightly. “The Minister misunderstands. I am only afraid you will encounter another assassin… If you find them an eyesore, I will not send them. As for silver… there is some surplus in my private treasury. If you have need of it, take it as you wish.”
Rumors among the commoners claimed that Gu Huaiyu had been assassinated because he embezzled disaster relief funds; the people were practically cheering. But the “Great Corrupt Official” in the Emperor’s heart was here for business.
Returning to the point, Gu Huaiyu said, “If Your Majesty has free time, you should instead consider the essay prompts for the Imperial Examinations.”
This was the first Grace Examination since the new Emperor’s ascension. Months ago, the imperial bounty had been posted across the nine provinces, and the roads to the capital had been choked with carriages. Scholars who had spent a decade by the cold window were now shoulder-to-shoulder, waiting to leap through the Dragon Gate to fame and fortune—or to return home in disappointment to try again next year.
Hearing this, Yuan Zhuo returned to his desk and opened a letter. “Yesterday, while court was suspended, Grand Preceptor Dong sent a letter to Xu, recommending the ‘Three Bonds’ as the essay topic.”
The very first of the Three Bonds was: The Ruler is the Bond of the Subject.
Who was Grand Preceptor Dong pointing at? Likely every scholar in the world knew.
