Chapter 55: A Master-Class Chancellor Part 1

“…”

Yelü Chi searched Gu Huaiyu’s face for any trace of emotion—arrogance, mockery, anything. His eyes, sharp enough to pierce the camouflage of a fox or hare on the plains, failed to see through a single man standing less than three feet away.

He caught only a flicker of nearly imperceptible weariness.

Gu Huaiyu did not seem to consider the question a real question at all.

Yelü Chi’s eyes narrowed slightly. As the sunlight contracted into a grey-blue slit in his pupils, an unusual sense of danger radiated from him. “Does Chancellor Gu believe in the Mandate of Heaven?”

The question was no longer being asked by a mere “Vice-Envoy” of Eastern Liao; it was being asked by Yelü Chi himself.

Gu Huaiyu’s brow furrowed slightly, and his lips curled into a counter-question. “Do you people from Eastern Liao actually believe in such a thing?”

If they believed in divine providence, the atrocities committed in the Three Provinces and Nine Commanderies over the years would have been enough to bring heavenly retribution down upon their royal court long ago.

Yelü Chi’s knees remained fixed to the floor, but he braced his arms against the ground, leaning forward a few inches like a beast quietly closing in on its prey.

His gaze rose from the tips of Gu Huaiyu’s boots, inching up until it reached that pale, brilliant face. “In my youth, I often read ancient books written by Han scholars,” he said nonchalantly.

“They said that when the time comes, Heaven and Earth conspire to aid those favored by the Mandate. Such people find success in everything they do. I used to think these were merely stories fabricated by Han scholars.”

He paused, his eyes fixed on Gu Huaiyu, the light in his pupils deepening. “Looking at it now, perhaps those stories of Han heroes were not fabrications after all.”

Gu Huaiyu let out a sudden, genuine laugh.

He reached out, picked up a round fruit from the table, and rolled it skillfully between his fingertips. His eyes tilted up with amusement. “You’ve got it backward.”

Yelü Chi froze, his brow knitting. “Backward?”

Gu Huaiyu tossed the golden fruit toward the man’s chest.

The fruit struck his chest lightly and rolled down the folds of his robe, eventually coming to a stop in the crease between Yelü Chi’s thighs.

It landed in a highly sensitive spot, carrying an almost provocative, suggestive weight.

Yelü Chi’s breath hitched. The look he directed at the Chancellor took on a strange, dark shimmer.

Gu Huaiyu appraised his future “mortal enemy,” drawing out his words lazily. “There is no such thing as the Mandate of Heaven. There are only those who act on behalf of Heaven. When a man does what the people desire, the world calls it ‘divine favor.'”

Yelü Chi’s gaze slowly drifted down, finally resting on the fruit in that awkward position. He instinctively closed his eyes for a moment, pulling his wandering thoughts back to reality.

With his intelligence, he understood Gu Huaiyu’s meaning instantly.

At the same time, he suddenly understood why Gu Huaiyu had bothered with the thankless task of killing Wu Wei. It wasn’t an act of stubbornness or reckless indulgence.

The truth was far simpler: Gu Huaiyu believed Wu Wei deserved to die, so he killed him.

The adoration of the people and the submission of the officials were merely the winds that followed in the aftermath.

There was no trace of calculated maneuvering here—no buying of hearts, no seizing of momentum, not even a plot to speak of.

Yelü Chi’s mind suddenly fell into a strange blankness.

The feeling was utterly foreign, like the most experienced hunter on the plains suddenly stumbling into a dense forest he had never scouted.

The political wisdom he took such pride in was completely useless here. The logic behind this man’s actions did not exist within the carefully constructed system of schemes Yelü Chi had built.

Thanks to Pei Jingyi, Yelü Chi had lost his father at a young age. He had clawed his way to the position of Regent over a path of corpses, enduring the cold contempt of others.

In his worldview, within a den of tigers and wolves like the imperial court, every move had to have a deep meaning; every drop of blood had to be traded for profit.

Even his choice to wear Han clothing today had dual purposes: first, to save time on bathing and incense, and second, to make himself look less like a man of Eastern Liao to win Gu Huaiyu’s favor.

He had never underestimated Gu Huaiyu.

Before stepping into Great Chen, he had already dismissed those absurd fantasies of “nepotism” or “a pretty face rising to power.”

Only a fool who had never held power would naively believe a talentless hack could survive in this position for more than three days.

The true arena of power was a hunting ground more brutal than a wolf pack on the plains.

Simply the ability to recognize and utilize talent was enough to filter out ninety-nine percent of mediocrities. One had to see the true colors of every subordinate, discern the truth of every report, and catch the tail of reality amidst a sea of lies.

Not to mention the courage required to balance various factions while walking on the edge of a blade.

Thus, he had naturally placed Gu Huaiyu on the same level as himself when making his deductions—cold, calculating, and a master of manipulation.

And that was where he had made a monumental mistake.

Gu Huaiyu was not like him.

He hadn’t killed Wu Wei to show off his strength, nor had he provided disaster relief to seek fame. Even the kumquat he had just tossed was pure in a way that terrified Yelü Chi.

This almost naive way of operating was exactly what made the entire court bow their heads and made the commoners of the capital willing to die for him.

Yelü Chi’s leaning body stiffened. A rare look of bewilderment clouded his grey-blue eyes. After a moment of silence, he asked with sharp decisiveness, “Why? Why do you do these things?”

Gu Huaiyu found the question bizarre. He popped a peeled kumquat into his mouth and gave the same answer as before. “This Chancellor is simply doing what should be done.”

What else would I be doing?

He received a salary from the court, so naturally, he had to do actual work. Wasn’t that logic plain as day?

An unprecedented shiver raced up Yelü Chi’s spine to the back of his neck. It was an intense, uncontrollable trembling that seemed to echo from the depths of his soul.

This was not a world he understood.

This was not a game he could calculate.

They had never been of the same kind. Gu Huaiyu was the “Mandate of Heaven” he had once believed in.

Gu Huaiyu had no desire to hear any more questions about “common sense.” He propped himself up against a soft cushion, looking bored. “Today is the first day of the Yuanxi Lantern Festival. The lantern market on Zhuque Boulevard will stay awake all night. Since the delegation is leaving the capital soon, shouldn’t you little interpreter go see the lights?”