Chapter 23
“I’ll Make Sure He Gets a Proper Burial!”
That’s right—at this moment, Imperial Scholar Xin was grinding his teeth in fury!
His perfectly white teeth made an audible creaking sound as he clenched them. It took him quite some time to control himself enough to speak without showing too much emotion.
“Your Majesty, this humble servant is Yu Lang’s only son. His death… was not honorable, and it had nothing to do with anyone else. Therefore, I do not wish to pursue the matter further. I only ask that Your Majesty permit me to let it end here. As for Yu Lang, I will… I will give him a proper—proper—burial!”
Uh…
Xin Tanhua, you really lost control with that last sentence, didn’t you? Clearly, that was pure hatred talking! One could easily imagine that Yu Lang was not going to end up in a nice grave.
And since even his own son didn’t want to investigate, what was there left for anyone else to dig into?
The old emperor was speechless.
Still, it only went to show just how detested Yu Lang truly was. His own son could barely wait for him to die, and his concubines had already made their move against him. In the end, Yu Lang had done one good thing—he didn’t die at Xin Tanhua’s or one of his concubines’ hands, but on his own. At least it spared them some trouble.
But even then, Emperor Jingtai’s chronic suspicion started to stir again. Those concubines might be pitiful, yes—but plotting to murder their master, even if he deserved it, was not something that could be brushed aside in terms of morality.
And then there were Chunyu Shuang and Ying Jiuque. Both women. Would they, out of sympathy, secretly smooth over the matter for those concubines?
Even though Chunyu Shuang’s long speech earlier hadn’t shown even a hint of that, Emperor Jingtai couldn’t help but suspect it.
Should I perhaps plead for mercy on Fuliu and the others’ behalf?
The emperor’s eyebrows lifted slightly, curious about what Ying Jiuque might do next.
Then again, the old emperor isn’t stupid. This was clearly Yu Lang’s fault. Hmm… maybe not. Men sometimes side with men out of some unspoken alliance, blaming women even when it isn’t their fault. Isn’t that what happened to Chunyu? She’s clearly capable, but those old men kept suppressing her, stealing her credit again and again. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be stuck in a mere administrative post right now.
“Insolence! How could I be such a shallow man?” Emperor Jingtai thought furiously to himself. If I truly were that kind of person, how could there be female officials in my court at all?
Well, that’s true—he’s not that petty. But still, officials these days are hopeless! I even heard yesterday that they’re registering households without counting women as real members. That’s insane! Give women some farmland, and they’d outwork half the men! ‘Women hold up half the sky,’ don’t they? No wonder productivity is so low. Elder Mu said the farmers around the capital are still using old clumsy plows. Why not switch to the curved-beam plow? That alone doubles the speed! Ah, never mind. I’m just a woman. The Ministry of Works wouldn’t let me be an official, and even if they did, no one would listen to me. Why bother thinking about this? I might as well plan where to go play next…”
“Wait—hold on!”
Worthy of an emperor indeed—Emperor Jingtai immediately caught the crucial detail buried in that ramble. ‘Curved-beam plow’? Never heard of it… but from her tone, it must be some kind of miraculous farming tool! She said it could double—no, more than double—the plowing speed?
It was the height of planting season. If such a tool could be adopted widely, farming efficiency would soar, and even more land could be cultivated!
But when he looked at the utterly innocent, oblivious Ying Jiuque sitting there absentmindedly thinking about food, Emperor Jingtai quickly forced himself to calm down.
Patience, patience. Now’s not the time. If I bring it up too suddenly, she might get suspicious—or worse, run off. That would ruin everything.
Thinking this, Emperor Jingtai turned toward Chunyu Shuang with the most benevolent expression imaginable.
“Chunyu Shuang, you’ve handled this case very well—meticulous and decisive. Excellent work.”
Chunyu Shuang’s heart leapt with excitement. The reason she’d worked so hard on this investigation was precisely so that His Majesty would notice her efforts!
“Thank you for Your Majesty’s praise. This humble servant will redouble her efforts and live up to Your Majesty’s expectations!”
The emperor nodded approvingly, then looked over at Wei Yuan and Xie Mingchen. Since he’d praised one, he might as well praise them all—so he did, one by one.
Even Jiufu, despite his deep composure, couldn’t help but feel his eyes brighten a little at seeing his adopted son commended.
Afterward, Emperor Jingtai decisively pardoned Xin Tanhua and the nine concubines involved. As for whatever tangled grudges remained between them, he had no intention of meddling further.
Having promoted Chunyu Shuang and the others, the emperor’s gaze turned back to Ying Jiuque—and he found himself in a quandary.
Hmm. The others were easy—they already held posts. But what about Ying Jiuque? She had been granted the title of County Princess, technically part of the imperial clan. If he simply gave her another empty title, that would be a waste. After all, she had been the brightest star in this entire investigation.
It wouldn’t be fair if everyone else got real promotions while she was left with a ceremonial title!
Any other noblewoman would die of envy to hear that.
Truly, when you find someone pleasing to the eye, everything about them looks right—from the hair on their head to the soles of their feet. Emperor Jingtai found Ying Jiuque most pleasing indeed, and now he was racking his brain over what position would suit her best.
Just as he was deep in thought, a mournful wailing came from outside—loud and pitiful enough to grate on the ears.
Jiufu quietly went to check. When he returned, his face was full of discomfort.
“Your Majesty, it’s that newly appointed City Patrol Censor. Uh… he’s been beaten again. This time, he lost two front teeth and can barely speak.”
“Beaten again?”
The emperor groaned. He had earned his empire on horseback—his own education wasn’t great—but he had made an effort to learn once things stabilized. Even so, he still struggled to suppress the rough habits of a soldier.
His old comrades-in-arms were even worse—coarse and impulsive.
And because they’d all suffered through the chaos of war, they doted on their sons excessively. The result? A generation of spoiled young wastrels.
From the founding of the dynasty until now, those brats had caused trouble nearly every ten days. Picking fights was the least of it—sometimes they even hurt commoners, giving the emperor endless headaches.
The position of City Patrol Censor had existed since ancient times, but it wasn’t a high rank—just sixth grade. Yet this was the capital! You couldn’t throw a stone without hitting three third-rank officials. A sixth-rank censor? Everyone thought they could step on him!
No wonder there had already been three censores replaced just since spring. All had been bullied so badly by those pampered nobles’ sons that they resigned rather than endure the humiliation.
But if those troublemakers—each the darling of some powerful old general—were allowed to keep running wild, what would happen when they finally caused a real disaster? Would he have to execute them?
Tsk… such a headache. Truly, a royal migraine.
Wait—hold on!
The emperor’s gaze slowly shifted toward Ying Jiuque, who was sitting there looking perfectly gentle and polite on the surface but was, in truth, completely bored and secretly deciding what to eat for lunch.
