Chapter Fourteen: The Imperial Marriage Bestowal

Year 20 of Zhaoning, early winter.

The Imperial Capital.

Dawn in early winter was desolate and bitterly cold.

So cold, in fact, that travelers on the long imperial avenues had to hunch over, exhaling white breaths and rubbing their hands for warmth. Outside the capital, street vendors’ ears were flushed red from the chill.

Great Zhou’s morning court convened early; ministers who lived far from the palace had to rise in the dead of night.

Fortunately, the Zhaoning Emperor rarely summoned morning court, especially during winter’s onset.

But today was different—not only would court be held, but all officials had been urgently summoned in the middle of the night.

The Fifth Prince, weary and worn, entered the Hall of Supreme Harmony and was surprised to find, apart from the Second and Third Princes who were outside the capital and the Seventh Prince, all the princes present. Every civil and military official was accounted for.

Even the current Grand Chancellor, Grand Preceptor, and Grand Censor—all three representing distinct factions within today’s imperial court—were in attendance.

It was clear that today’s proclamation would be of unprecedented importance; even when Xiangyang Commandery fell to Qingqiu, there had not been such a gathering. Could it be that Hangzhou had fallen as well?

With unease gnawing at his heart, the Fifth Prince stood among his brothers and glanced about. All the princes appeared dispirited.

As for the officials—some must have heard the news already, perhaps having even discussed memorials with the emperor. But they were masters of feigned indifference; nothing could be deciphered from their expressions.

The Fifth Prince did not know what to say and maintained his silence.

After a moment’s tense waiting, the Zhaoning Emperor finally arrived, fashionably late.

This emperor, still in the prime of his life, surveyed the assembled ministers. Draped in a golden embroidered cape, the tails of his dragon robe trailing on the floor, he only spoke after the chorus of “Long live the Emperor, ten thousand years!” had faded:

"Rise, my beloved subjects."

The Minister of War strode forward and declared in a clear, resonant voice, “Your Majesty, I have matters to report.”

“Speak, my loyal subject,” the Zhaoning Emperor replied, composed and inscrutable upon his dragon throne.

Bowing deeply, the Minister of War said, "At midnight, I received a dispatch from the front. The Third Prince personally led a special force and, under cover of night, set fire to the Qingqiu army’s granary, severing the supply lines for their army of over two hundred thousand."

"Afterward, the Third Prince, alone, negotiated with Qingqiu’s supreme commander. Qingqiu has withdrawn its forces, and thus, Yunchuan is once again returned to our Great Zhou."

The three grand ministers were stunned; officials looked to one another in disbelief, and the princes were equally incredulous. After a brief, stunned silence, the Hall of Supreme Harmony erupted in fervent discussion.

The last court session had been a debate about how to respond to Qingqiu’s occupation of Xiangyang—what gifts to send for peace talks, and even proposals for a marriage alliance with Jin Xia.

Yet now, in just a few days, the news from the front was utterly different—so different it seemed like a dream.

This was the Qingqiu army—over two hundred thousand strong, who had taken Xiangyang in less than five days, suffering negligible losses.

Such a seemingly insurmountable force, akin to a towering, unscalable cliff, had now not only been defeated by Great Zhou, but had even withdrawn after negotiations?

No one even knew the terms of the peace.

The debate among officials grew ever more heated. At the emperor’s signal, the chief eunuch snapped a loud whip on the shining marble floor, restoring order.

The Zhaoning Emperor spoke calmly: "My son Nian has accomplished this great deed upon leaving the palace for the first time. I intend to confer a princely title upon him and grant him a fief—what say you, my loyal subjects?"

To be granted a princely title and a fief was no small matter. The emperor’s intention was clear: to curb the Third Prince’s burgeoning merit.

The rewards were extraordinary—so much so that rival factions would certainly object and submit impeachment petitions. Thus, the Third Prince could not rise too swiftly, nor would the emperor appear ungrateful to his meritorious subjects.

Such was the art of imperial balance.

A steadfast royalist, the Minister of War once again stepped forward and bowed. "Your Majesty, I believe this course is ill-advised. In this great victory, the Third Prince also acted beyond his authority. According to the military staff, the special force he led was not a regular army of Great Zhou, but rather a volunteer force assembled from wandering swordsmen."

"Moreover, in forming this force, he coerced the governor of Jiangdu. According to our investigation, the governor suspects the Third Prince himself instigated certain seditious rumors in Jiangdu. The details await the governor’s testimony."

The venerable Head of the Imperial Academy, white-haired and long-bearded, immediately stepped forward to refute him: "Though the Third Prince exceeded his authority, merit and fault must be weighed separately. What’s more, he has recovered Yunchuan for the empire. Without his bold decision, the Qingqiu army might still be entrenched in Xiangyang."

With this intervention, the Crown Prince’s party tipped the scales.

The Fifth Prince watched in astonishment. If the Third Prince secured both title and fief, he would instantly rival the Second Prince and the Crown Prince’s faction would split in two.

The Vice Minister of Personnel stepped forward with a mocking tone: "Does the Head of the Academy mean to say that the vast fortunes of Great Zhou depend solely on the Third Prince?"

"A prince who disregards protocol should not be rewarded with title and land—should the world believe that the Third Prince may act arrogantly without consequence? Without serious discipline, Your Majesty’s authority will surely be undermined."

These were no ordinary men—his words immediately seized the moral high ground.

Crown Prince’s supporters rose to argue back, but as the Grand Preceptor had yet to speak, and another contender for the succession was favored, their influence seemed to wane.

The Vice Minister of Revenue, officially neutral, sensed opportunity and stepped forward: "Your Majesty, the Third Prince severed Qingqiu’s supply lines and held their fate in his hands, yet demanded no war reparations. Instead, he negotiated and released over two hundred thousand Qingqiu troops. I fear his methods are still too inexperienced."

Great Zhou had fought Qingqiu for years, at enormous cost; taxes had soared, the people groaned. If reparations could be exacted, the treasury would be replenished and public discontent eased.

Of course, the Minister of Revenue’s real concern was not for the people.

When it came to finances and reparations, no official wished to take a stand, even though all knew that getting Qingqiu to withdraw was already a blessing. But who could resist the lure of riches?

At this point, the Minister of War interjected once more: "Your Majesty, forgive me. I recall now that the dispatch I received before court mentioned that the Qingqiu army’s retreat may have involved taking the Third Prince hostage to secure their safe passage beyond our borders."

"However, this claim remains unconfirmed by staff officers; Qingqiu has shown no intention of further negotiation. Perhaps it is a mere rumor, but the Third Prince is indeed missing from the Xiliang army in Yunchuan. This matter requires further investigation. I report my delay and beg your pardon."

The Crown Prince’s party was silenced. Those who had spoken shot the Minister of War venomous glares—had this been revealed earlier, who would have argued?

The Vice Minister of Justice was about to gleefully accuse the Minister of War of negligence and call for his dismissal, but the Zhaoning Emperor gave him no chance. In a cold voice, he declared: "As Minister of War, such an error is inexcusable. Forfeit three months’ salary and investigate this matter at once."

Minister Sun immediately knelt and kowtowed. "Thank you for Your Majesty’s grace; I shall ascertain the truth."

The officials, observing quietly, suddenly realized that since today’s court session, the usually powerful Empress Dowager’s party had remained silent; the entire Censorate, led by the Grand Censor, had lowered their banners.

It seemed they had chosen neutrality. In truth, the Third Prince had entered the political stage too late to gather any significant faction. Otherwise, with such resounding merit, it would have been difficult to diminish his achievements; with support from the scholars, he might even have been made heir apparent on the spot.

Today, those who spoke in his favor were either men of the Imperial Academy or the Crown Prince’s party. A few neutral officials chimed in, but not many.

Gradually, the contention in the Hall of Supreme Harmony subsided. The royalists outnumbered all others; it seemed the matter of the Third Prince was settled.

The Zhaoning Emperor surveyed his ministers with satisfaction. Factional strife must exist, but not excessively; there must always be a second voice. He mused aloud:

"Since my son Nian is yet unsettled, we will postpone rewards until his return to the capital. But he is also of an age to marry—having achieved such a feat, it is time to consider his marriage."

"Prime Minister Zhang, I recall your daughter has just turned sixteen this year—a renowned and virtuous lady, ready for marriage. What are your thoughts?"

The Third Prince had barely revealed his talents and already forced Qingqiu to retreat—the emperor clearly had other plans. To grant him a marriage, in truth, was to use the Prime Minister as a check on this rising prince.

Just as Prime Minister Zhang was about to kneel and play his part in this imperial drama, the trembling call of a eunuch outside the hall was heard:

"Her... Her Majesty the Empress Dowager arrives!"