He did not add the words “and thanks Your Majesty for his grace.”
Yuan Zhuo strode through the corridors, his sleeves billowing like a storm. The eunuchs followed behind at a trot, trembling with fear.
Bang!
The carved doors of the bedchamber were kicked open by Yuan Zhuo, startling the birds nesting under the eaves into flight.
“All of you, get out!”
Following his roar, a celadon brush rest was the first thing to hit the floor, shattering into several pieces.
Then came the gilded incense burner, the jade screen, the memorials on the imperial desk… everything within reach became a sacrifice to the Emperor’s rage.
Eunuch Xu knelt outside the hall, listening to the continuous sound of shattering inside. His old face wrinkled into a bitter expression. Whoever went in now would lose their head. Only one person could soothe the man inside.
Unfortunately, no one dared to invite that person into the palace.
“How dare he… how dare he!”
Yuan Zhuo tightly gripped a shard of porcelain, oblivious to his palm being sliced into a bloody mess.
The image of Xie Shaoling kneeling in the hall kept flashing before his eyes, along with that resounding declaration: “It is indeed Chancellor Gu.”
The most absurd part was that the promise of a marriage decree had been given by his own mouth.
The thought of it made his heart ache unbearably. His chest heaved as if he couldn’t catch his breath, and his strength was suddenly drained. He stumbled back a few steps and collapsed amidst the wreckage on the floor.
“How does he have the nerve…”
The young Emperor curled into a ball, biting his lower lip until he tasted blood, refusing to let go.
His eyes were red, but he stubbornly tilted his head back, refusing to let a single tear fall.
“On what grounds?”
With a voice thick with grievance, he asked himself in a whisper, “On what grounds? I cannot even call him by his courtesy name…”
And yet someone else could write poems for him so openly and brazenly.
On what grounds?
Warm blood flowed down his wrist into his sleeve. The wound in his palm was a mangled mess, but he felt no pain. Compared to the sharp agony in his heart, this bit of pain was nothing.
He was the sovereign, and Gu Huaiyu was the subject.
He was the pupil, and Gu Huaiyu was the teacher.
He had been raised by Gu Huaiyu; in the Chancellor’s eyes, he would always be a child.
Above were the ancestral laws, in the middle were the codes of loyalty and filial piety, and below were the eyes of the people and the four seas.
Was this not the ground they all stood upon?
***
The news of the poem Ode to the Plum reached the Chancellor’s Manor in less than an hour.
A small eunuch knelt before the desk, trembling as he reported everything that had happened at the Qionglin Banquet in detail.
Gu Huaiyu did not stop writing. It wasn’t until he heard that Xie Shaoling had personally admitted the poem was about him that his brush paused slightly, leaving a smudge of vermillion ink at the end of the memorial.
He raised his eyes, his tone so flat it was almost devoid of emotion. “Oh? He admitted it?”
The eunuch pressed his forehead to the ground. “Scholar Xie admitted it personally. The ‘Plum’ in the Ode to the Plum is indeed you, Chancellor.”
Gu Huaiyu slowly narrowed his eyes.
It wasn’t surprising that Xie Shaoling had recognized him as “Master Plum.” He hadn’t intended to hide it when he wrote the name Yu that day.
But he hadn’t expected the Top Scholar to dare to defect so openly in front of the Pure Stream faction and the entire civil and military officialdom.
This act was no different from slapping Grand Preceptor Dong across the face in public.
If he were a spy, it would be far too clumsy. The Pure Stream wasn’t so stupid as to let someone undermine their prestige like that.
What exactly was Xie Shaoling up to?
Gu Huaiyu held the brush handle, pensively tapping the end against his chin. He asked nonchalantly, “Tell me, what do you think he wants to get from me?”
The eunuch stammered for a moment before saying cautiously, “I heard that Scholar Xie admires your style, Chancellor.”
Gu Huaiyu was amused and let out a light laugh. “He admires me?”
It would be a blessing if the boy didn’t want his head.
He wasn’t afraid of Xie Shaoling having ulterior motives. He already had Shen Jun under his wing; another one would make a fine pair. He wanted to see what kind of storm they could stir up.
However, since Xie Shaoling was determined to join him, he had to make a gesture in return.
The little eunuch didn’t dare answer, but then he heard a languid instruction from above.
“Go tell Yun Niang to save the half-plate of osmanthus cakes I was just eating. When Xie Shaoling arrives later, I shall present them to him personally.”
This was an act modeled after the story of Emperor Gaozu of Han. When the legendary general Han Xin came to join him during a time of crisis, Gaozu was so moved that he shared the very snacks he was eating with him.
Xie Shaoling was well-versed in the classics; surely he would understand this gesture of a leader honoring a worthy talent.
