He was afraid. He was afraid that one day, another border general would follow in his footsteps.
So he established ancestral laws and drew boundaries, not for the stability of the nation or for the order of civil and military, but to block the path for anyone else to follow him, ensuring military men would never again reach for the supreme seat.
The so-called “Ancestral Laws” were nothing more than a blindfold.
The faces of the Pure Stream faction were hideous. The “disloyal” label had been stripped away, and the golden body of ancestral law had been shattered. The court fell into a brief silence.
Grand Preceptor Dong remained unhurried, as if the previous rebuttal had never happened. He shifted his tone. “I remember that the Chancellor comes from the Gu clan of Jiangnan—a family of scholars. For three generations, your ancestors were all jinshi scholars, a lineage of thriving literary tradition.”
“When His Majesty first ascended the throne, if the Chancellor had not stepped in to stabilize the scholars and reorganize the Six Ministries, how could the world be at peace?”
These words sounded like praise, but Dong followed up immediately: “The Chancellor and I may have different political views, but we are both men of letters, both civil ministers. We drink from the same river, based on the teachings of the Sages, with the goal of governing for the people.”
“This move to abolish ancestral laws and open political discussion to the military has caused controversy—that much is understandable.”
“But if the Chancellor insists on protecting these soldiers today, he is cutting ties with his own kind, abandoning the scholarly world.”
“I take the liberty of asking the Chancellor one thing—”
“Whose side are you on? The scholars?”
“Or the warriors?”
This question was a poisoned dagger aimed straight at Gu Huaiyu’s heart.
If Gu Huaiyu said “I stand with the warriors,” he would become a “traitor to the scholars,” losing the hearts of the intelligentsia.
If he said “I stand with the civil ministers,” his move to abolish the ancestral laws would lose all legitimacy, destroying his own position.
It was a truly malicious move.
Shen Jun was about to speak, but Gu Huaiyu raised a hand to stop him. His slender, jade-white fingers rested on his knee, tapping rhythmically.
“Grand Preceptor Dong asks which side I am on?”
He paused. The usual lazy softness in his voice vanished, replaced by words that were crisp, powerful, and resonant.
“I am the Chancellor of Great Chen. Naturally, I stand on the side of Great Chen.”
The court fell into a sudden hush.
Dong Danyu’s eyes brightened as he stared intently at him.
The Pure Stream members looked at each other, momentarily unsure of how to argue.
Gu Huaiyu stood up, his wide sleeves falling gracefully. He looked as composed as if he were discussing poetry in a garden. “Grand Preceptor Dong is right. I am indeed from the Gu clan of Jiangnan. If the Eastern Liao cavalry ever rides south, I could simply pack my bags and return to my hometown to be a leisurely scholar.”
His gaze swept over the paling faces of the Pure Stream faction, a mocking curl to his lips.
“Is that not what you all are thinking?”
“Even if the Eastern Liao crosses the natural barrier of the Yangtze and occupies the north and south of Great Chen, they will still need scholars to govern the world. They will need civil officials to keep the court running.”
“It’s just a different person sitting on the dragon throne. You could still wear your official caps, receive your salaries, and continue being your ‘loyal ministers.'”
“As for Great Chen—”
Gu Huaiyu’s tone suddenly dropped, the sharpness in his eyes unconcealed. “As for the common people, as for the altars of the state, as for the corpses crushed by iron hooves and the homes burned by the fires of war…”
“Do you all even care?”
The final question landed with a heavy thud.
The entire court was dead silent.
Grand Preceptor Dong, a veteran of three reigns, turned as red as a child, lost for words.
The younger Pure Stream officials stared at Gu Huaiyu, their hostility slowly being replaced by another emotion—shock, wavering, and even a faint sense of admiration.
Standing in the crowd, Dong Danyu’s heart beat like a drum. Since childhood, his father had hammered the idea into him that “Gu Yu is a traitor.”
But now, he couldn’t take his eyes off the Chancellor standing in the center of the hall, his words as sharp as a blade.
He suddenly remembered the poem Ode to the Plum from the banquet.
“All the nobility of the capital bows their heads; a body of sickly bones bears the weight of history.
Save for the three feet of snow by the Emperor’s side; beyond the nine heavens, all else is but the mundane stream.”
Xie Shaoling’s poem wasn’t an exaggeration—it was a literal record.
He finally understood why Xie Shaoling was willing to throw away his reputation.
This entire court of civil and military officials were, indeed, nothing but mundane.
On the other side of the hall, the military officers were already dazed.
They had seen fierce generals bathed in blood and honored loyal souls who died for the border. But they had never imagined that a scholar, thin as a reed and sitting in a chair, could stir such a storm in their hearts.
Pei Jingyi stared intently at Gu Huaiyu, his throat bobbing. The restless fire in his chest burned hotter.
A second later, he couldn’t help but grit his teeth.
From the moment he entered until now, Gu Huaiyu hadn’t given him a single glance.
Didn’t they say he was the Chancellor’s favorite?
This is how a favorite is treated?
So I’m just a dog? You can’t even be bothered to throw me a bone?
Gu Huaiyu had no idea what others were thinking. He simply leaned back into his chair and finished responding to Dong’s question. “I don’t stand with the scholars, and I don’t stand with the warriors.”
“I only stand with Great Chen.”
“If anyone thinks that when Eastern Liao comes, they can continue to be officials, then I will tell you now—”
He scanned the fearful and ashamed faces in the hall and suddenly broke into a bright smile. “Please rest easy, everyone. If Great Chen falls, the first person I will kill… is you.”
“Didn’t they say he was the Chancellor’s favorite?
This is how a favorite is treated?
So I’m just a dog? You can’t even be bothered to throw me a bone?”
Pei Jingyi fell so hard for this man he’s even internally pouting lmao 😂