Chapter 69: I Quit Part 2

Eunuch Xu hurried inside with small, quick steps to report. “Your Majesty, thirty-six ministers are kneeling before the Hall of Literary Virtue. They have submitted a joint petition begging Your Majesty to rescind the decree of dismissal…”

Yuan Zhuo stood with his arms spread as attendants dressed him. His tone was flat. “I know.”

Eunuch Xu stole a glance at him. Seeing his calm expression, the eunuch didn’t dare say more and quietly withdrew.

When the hour of the Dragon arrived, the bells and drums outside the Hall of Literary Virtue chimed in unison.

The officials of the Three Departments and Six Ministries entered in order. Many had not slept all night, their eyes rimmed with dark circles, yet their expressions were more solemn than usual.

Light had burned in every government office and private residence in the capital last night. Countless people had scrambled to find information and discuss the situation in secret.

No one was sure if this dismissal was a power struggle between the Emperor and the Chancellor, or if the two were working together to purge the court.

But regardless of the truth, today’s “public vote” was a bow already drawn.

Some had taken sides early, vowing to follow Chancellor Gu to the death, while others wavered, unable to decide.

But in the end, even those who harbored deep resentment toward Gu Huaiyu had to admit one thing—

Great Chen could not afford to lose Gu Huaiyu right now.

With war imminent, the court would fall into chaos if the Chancellor’s seat were vacant.

Furthermore, looking across the empire, no one else could suppress the storms before the Dragon Throne.

And so, a thousand private grudges were suppressed. The struggle for power ultimately had to yield to the safety of the Land.

In his ten years as an official, Gu Huaiyu had never stepped foot into the Hall of Literary Virtue for a standard assembly.

In the past, he was busy cleaning up Emperor Rui’s messes, traveling all over the world.

Later, when he became the Chancellor, he didn’t even have time to breathe. His desk was always piled with an endless supply of memorials, and his hands were always full of urgent matters.

He had to split every minute in two just to get by; how could he care about such empty formalities?

Today was different.

The moment Gu Huaiyu stepped onto the jade stairs, every eye in the hall was drawn to him.

He wasn’t wearing his scarlet python robes or his gold-threaded insignia. He wasn’t even wearing an official hat.

He wore only a plain white robe with a piece of green jade hanging from his waist. His ink-black hair was half-tied, secured loosely by a simple silver pin. He looked more like a noble son who had snuck out for a spring stroll.

The guards at the palace gates stared with wide eyes.

Gu Huaiyu ignored the astonished gazes of the entire hall and walked straight toward the red sandalwood chair in the center of the room.

It was a seat set specifically for him.

When he sat down, his sleeves spread out like flowing clouds. He looked more like the master of this hall than Yuan Zhuo did on his dragon throne.

Grand Preceptor Dong immediately shot a look at Qin Zijin.

Qin Zijin understood instantly, and he added another line to the impeachment memorial in his sleeve: “Contempt for court discipline, appearing before the Emperor in commoner’s clothing—a treasonous lack of virtue!”

Pei Jingyi stood in the ranks of the military officers, his figure particularly striking. He had come with Gu Huaiyu and had seen this outfit early this morning.

So this is the ‘heaven’s secret’ Gu Huaiyu spoke of?

He narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Upon the throne, Yuan Zhuo’s hands tightened on his knees. He nodded to the master of ceremonies as if nothing were wrong.

The chimes rang, and the court session began.

Yuan Zhuo took a deep breath and spoke expressionlessly. “Do my ministers have any matters to report?”

The echo of the bells had not yet faded, but the hall was deathly silent. Not a single person spoke.

The civil and military officials stood with bowed heads, but their eyes flickered back and forth between the dragon throne and the Chancellor’s chair.

Everyone was waiting for the Emperor to drop the sword of “dismissal” that had been hanging over them all night.

But to everyone’s surprise, the Emperor suddenly stood up and said indifferently, “Since there are no reports, the court is adjourned.”

“Huh?”

The officials raised their heads in unison, their faces masks of bewilderment.

Weren’t they supposed to vote on the dismissal today?

What kind of play was this?

Grand Preceptor Dong was a seasoned veteran. Before Yuan Zhuo could leave, he reacted quickly, stepping forward and shouting, “Your Majesty!”

“Surely Your Majesty has not forgotten that the Secretariat, Chancellery, and the Bureau of Military Affairs have already received orders to prepare for a public vote? We were meant to deliberate on the dismissal of the Chancellor today—”

Before he could finish, Yuan Zhuo shot a cold glare at him, and the Grand Preceptor stopped mid-sentence.

“Oh?”

Yuan Zhuo acted as if he had just remembered. He sat back down, but when he looked at Gu Huaiyu, his voice softened into a pleading tone. “Chancellor Gu, with war imminent, perhaps it would be better to discuss this matter later?”

The scene was truly farcical. A public vote to dismiss the Chancellor required the Chancellor himself to decide whether or not to hold it?

Gu Huaiyu glanced at him and sighed inwardly. The little beast can’t bring himself to be ruthless when it counts.

He shook his head gently. “A ruler’s word is final. Since Your Majesty said there would be a public vote today, then we shall vote today.”

Yuan Zhuo’s hands tightened again inside his sleeves. His cold gaze swept over Grand Preceptor Dong before he gritted his teeth. “Fine. Then we shall have the public vote.”

As soon as the words fell, attendants filed into the hall.

Two eunuchs carried a black lacquered table to the center of the hall, followed by several others holding green jade tally tubes.

Inside the tubes were ivory tallies engraved with the names of all the officials. They were straight and white, with the ends left uncolored.