Chapter 7: How to Tame a Wild Dog Part 2

Gu Huaiyu flipped through a few pages while holding the boy’s hand, then shook his head. “Why copy my handwriting?”

The Emperor paused for a moment before answering softly, “Your handwriting is beautiful.”

Gu Huaiyu raised an eyebrow. Just because it’s beautiful?

A few days ago, Grand Preceptor Dong had spent an hour cursing him behind his back because his handwriting was so similar to the Emperor’s. The old man claimed Gu was intentionally imitating the sovereign’s script to the point where it was hard to tell whose red ink comments were whose on the memorials. He wondered what that old fox was actually plotting.

Seeing him remain silent, the Emperor gently closed the book and carefully tucked it back under his pillow. He immediately spoke again: “I saw the memorial you sent regarding Censor Li’s accusation of embezzlement against the Prefect of Yangzhou. How do you think it should be handled?”

He threw out the next question almost impatiently, as if he didn’t want to stop for a single second, fearing that Gu Huaiyu’s attention would drift away from state affairs.

No one knows a son better than his father. Gu Huaiyu could roughly guess the boy’s little scheme. He asked back coolly, “What does Your Majesty think?”

The Emperor hesitated. “I… I do not know. I only know the officials in the capital. I do not understand much of what happens outside the city.”

Gu Huaiyu looked down at him. “Censor Li is a cautious and cowardly man. He would not have submitted that report without absolute certainty.”

“Then, according to you, the evidence of embezzlement is conclusive?”

“It should be. However—a Prefect is a mere official of the fifth rank. If he dares to embezzle, his connections must be deeply entrenched. There are plenty of people in the court who have accepted his favors. If Your Majesty wishes for Censor Li to keep his life, send someone to escort him to the capital immediately, lest he meet an untimely and mysterious end.”

The Emperor listened intently. He reached out and lightly pinched Gu Huaiyu’s sleeve. “You are so thorough, Chancellor. I truly cannot go a day without you.”

Gu Huaiyu watched as the Emperor exhausted himself trying to curry favor. He wondered what the boy’s ultimate goal was.

Was it to play along? To hide his light and bide his time?

Eunuch Xu stepped forward with small, hurried strides, holding a tray with a freshly brewed bowl of medicine. “Please take your medicine, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor glanced at Gu Huaiyu sitting on the edge of the bed. Before he could speak, Gu Huaiyu asked with a half-smile, “Does Your Majesty require me to feed you?”

“…There is no need to trouble you.”

The Emperor sat up immediately, not daring to hesitate for a second. He took the bowl and drained it in one gulp.

Taking advantage of the gap, Eunuch Xu cast a grateful look at Gu Huaiyu.

Gu Huaiyu shook his head slightly, signaling it was no trouble. He picked up a silk handkerchief from the tray and handed it to the Emperor. “Your Majesty should rest well.”

The Emperor wiped his mouth and lay obediently back in bed. “I am not ill. I am in the prime of my youth, strong and healthy.”

Gu Huaiyu didn’t bother arguing. He simply said, “Court affairs are numerous. Though Your Majesty manages a myriad of daily tasks, you must not neglect your physical health.”

“I often play cuju in the palace, but you have never come to watch.”

The Emperor looked up at him briefly before casting his eyes down again. “You are the one who is truly busy with the affairs of the state.”

Gu Huaiyu didn’t beat around the bush. He asked directly, “Does Your Majesty wish to learn riding and archery?”

The moment he asked, there was no way the Emperor would refuse. Without a second thought, he said, “I do.”

Eunuch Xu, who was cleaning up the broken porcelain, looked up with concern. “Riding and archery? Surely His Majesty won’t be injured?”

The scholars and refined gentlemen of the Chen Dynasty loved cuju, but few practiced riding and archery. This tradition stemmed from the fact that the Founding Emperor had been a military official who rose in rebellion to seize the world. Naturally, he had been wary of all military officials. The unwritten ancestral rule was to “extol the civil and suppress the martial.”

After a hundred years of time, the status of military officials had dwindled with each passing reign. Not only were they barred from participating in government policy, but military officers had to bow to civil officials of the same rank.

Thus, cuju played by scholars was seen as an elegant pursuit, while the riding and archery mastered by soldiers had been relegated to a marginal skill. If a scholar were to bend a bow and shoot a hawk, it would be seen as beneath their dignity.

Gu Huaiyu smiled faintly and turned the question. “Does Your Majesty know of the Chief Military Inspector, Pei Jingyi?”