Chapter 65: Who Says He’s Useless? Part 2

This single sentence was a massive olive branch. Everyone present knew this wasn’t mere politeness. The Chancellery was the heart of the Lord Chancellor’s administration; none but his inner circle were permitted entry. Gu Huaiyu was clearly attempting to recruit him.

Nie Jin kept his back straight, but he hesitated for a heartbeat before lowering his gaze. “I thank the Lord Chancellor for his favor. Should I have official business, I shall certainly visit the Chancellor’s Estate.”

He won’t go to the Chancellery, but he will go to the Estate. He was refusing to join the Gu Faction officially, but he was open to personal association.

Gu Huaiyu’s face instantly darkened. “Then don’t bother coming at all.”

A flicker of gloom passed through Nie Jin’s eyes, but he bowed and retreated.

Many officials exchanged bewildered looks. Who didn’t know Nie Jin was as stubborn and proud as a rock? He usually clashed with everyone, having once even scolded the late Emperor Rui until he was blue in the face. And yet, he was so… obedient to Gu Huaiyu?

Xie Shaoling muttered unconsciously, “How is there another one…?”

Dong Danyu leaned in curiously. “Another what?”

Xie Shaoling shook his head and stepped forward, straightening his robes. He bowed deeply to Gu Huaiyu and then to the Emperor. “I petition to go to the front lines as a Military Secretary to assist with military affairs.”

Gu Huaiyu didn’t answer immediately. The situation at the front was complex. Although a Military Secretary was a civil post, they often fought side-by-side with the generals; it was a place where one’s life was constantly on the line. While he was short on talent, he couldn’t make such an arrangement lightly.

“I see that Master Xie is a great talent,” the Emperor interrupted, smiling at Xie Shaoling. “I heard that an iron mine was recently discovered in Liangzhou. Why doesn’t Master Xie go there to supervise the production of armaments?”

The hall fell silent.

Liangzhou. A desolate, bitter wasteland eight hundred miles from the front lines, plagued by sandstorms and harsh conditions. It was a place usually reserved for political exile.

Xie Shaoling looked up sharply, meeting Yuan Zhuo’s cold, mocking eyes. His heart sank. He had forgotten to account for one person’s jealousy.

Yuan Zhuo sat upright, his fingers tapping the armrest of the throne. I can’t deal with that old dog Pei Jingyi yet… but do you think I can’t handle you?

Gu Huaiyu shook his head slightly, having no time to dig into whatever grudge Yuan Zhuo held against Xie Shaoling. “Master Xie is young and promising. His writing is clear, and his attention to detail is meticulous.”

“He should serve as a Military Clerk for the time being, coordinating orders and military intelligence. It is a fine way to serve the country.”

Xie Shaoling’s eyes lit up as he looked at him, his previous gloom vanishing instantly. “My thanks to the Lord Chancellor!”

Yuan Zhuo lowered his lashes, his knuckles white as he gripped the dragon throne. You protect Xie Shaoling like this. You indulge Pei Jingyi like that. Even Nie Jin has a deep connection with you.

He suddenly looked up, staring directly at Gu Huaiyu, his lips trembling slightly. “You are truly good to them.”

“What about me?”

“Where do you place me, Chancellor?”

The hall went deathly quiet. The whispering of the ministers ceased instantly.

Standing together as high-ranking members of the Gu Faction, Shen Jun and Wei Qingya watched the scene. Wei Qingya, who loved a good spectacle, had been providing a running commentary since they entered the hall.

When Grand Preceptor Dong had spoken of “loyalty and patriotism” earlier, Wei had whispered, “Did you know? The Grand Preceptor just took a sixteen-year-old concubine last month.”

When Pei Jingyi mocked Qin Zijin for being a “brothel servant,” Wei had remarked, “What a coincidence. I once owned a brothel; some ‘distinguished guests’ wouldn’t even let the servants go.”

Shen Jun had remained expressionless, his eyes narrowed at the scene. But when the Emperor’s aggrieved question rang out, Wei Qingya shook his head and sighed. “The beautiful landscapes of Great Chen… seem to be tied entirely to the jade belt around the Chancellor’s waist.”

Shen Jun jabbed him with his elbow, shooting him a cold glare. “Watch your tongue.”

Gu Huaiyu’s brow twitched. What game was Yuan Zhuo playing now? A petition?

He answered without hesitation. “Your Majesty should remain in the capital. The court needs someone to hold the rear.”

Pei Jingyi instantly sensed something off. “Is the Lord Chancellor planning to personally lead the expedition to Eastern Liao?”

The hall erupted in an uproar!

Under normal circumstances, the person staying in the capital to hold the rear should be Gu Huaiyu, not the Emperor. By saying the Emperor had to stay behind, it meant Gu Huaiyu would not be in the capital. And if the head of the government wasn’t in the capital during a war, there was only one place he could be: the border.

Yuan Zhuo stood up abruptly, his face pale with shock and anger. “I forbid it!”

Gu Huaiyu didn’t need his permission. He pulled his hand from Pei Jingyi’s grasp, took out a handkerchief, and carefully wiped the red marks on his fingers. He didn’t look like a man discussing the fate of empires; he looked like he was admiring a fragile treasure.

Only after he finished did he look up. “The reason I summoned the officials today was to decide on a Decree of Life and Death.”

He had realized this long ago—something the previous emperors and chancellors of Great Chen had failed to understand.

His voice was neither heavy nor loud, but slow and deliberate. “If I want the soldiers to march to their deaths, I cannot sit high in this hall, enjoying music and pleasure.”

If you want men to sell their lives for you, you must first show your sincerity. Otherwise, who would die for you willingly?

“I will be right behind the battlefield, within their sight. I want them to know that this war doesn’t just gamble with their lives…” Gu Huaiyu scanned the officials, tapping his finger against his temple. “It also gambles with the head on my shoulders.”

Silence flooded the hall.

Pei Jingyi was a man who had crawled out of blood and sand; he knew better than anyone what it would mean for morale if Gu Huaiyu went to the front. If a Chancellor dared to stand behind the soldiers—truly behind them—it would become the lifeblood of the campaign.