The Child Emperor

A heavy atmosphere of suppressed grief permeated the Chancellor’s manor. Everyone moved cautiously on tiptoe, taking quick small steps, even controlling their breathing as if afraid their very breath might hurt others.

Chancellor Yin Wuhai of Great Chu was drawing his last breaths. No skilled physician or precious medicine could restore vitality to his failing body.

His wives and concubines wept while his children and grandchildren wailed. The noise irritated Yin Wuhai. He weakly moved his fingers to summon his eldest son Yin Cuo, and whispered something.

Unable to hear clearly, Yin Cuo quickly gestured to quiet the family’s crying. He then leaned close to his father’s mouth to listen carefully.

“Hong Xiao’er…” Yin Wuhai struggled to speak the name.

Yin Cuo turned to look at the young woman called Hong Xiao’er, who was crying the most bitterly, her eyes swollen like peaches. “Father, please rest assured, we will take care of Lady Hong as if she were our own mother.”

Hong Xiao’er, who was even younger than one of Yin Wuhai’s granddaughters, burst into loud sobs upon hearing this. Under the stern gazes of others, she covered her mouth to stop crying, her face turning red from the effort.

“Go… home…” Yin Wuhai uttered a few more words.

Yin Cuo was slightly stunned, thinking his father was confused. “Father, this is our home.”

Still puzzled, Yin Cuo listened as an elderly servant quietly suggested, “Perhaps the master means our old ancestral home in Jiangnan?”

Yin Wuhai blinked to confirm this was his meaning. Yin Cuo grew more confused, “Father has served as an official his whole life, working tirelessly for the court. All your children and grandchildren were born and raised in the Capital…”

Yin Wuhai began coughing violently, his gaze growing angry. Yin Cuo dared not argue further and quickly said, “We’ll go home. All the Yin descendants will return home, and we’ll sell all our properties in the Capital.”

Yin Wuhai’s anger subsided and his coughing stopped, though his breathing remained labored. He wanted to explain in detail why the Yin family must leave the capital, but speaking was too difficult. Among his many descendants, few would truly understand his meaning anyway, so rather than waste time, he simply gave the order.

The old Chancellor gripped his eldest son’s arm tightly with his skeletal hand. Surprised by the dying man’s unexpected strength, Yin Cuo vowed, “Any Yin descendant who stays in the Capital will be expelled from the clan and never allowed to return home.”

Satisfied, Yin Wuhai released his grip and lay back, breathing heavily, as if forgetting the room full of people. After a long while, he suddenly asked in a clear voice, “Why hasn’t anyone come?”

“We’re all here, Father. Who are you looking for?” Yin Cuo asked, puzzled.

“The palace.”

“They… haven’t come yet. Perhaps they don’t know how serious your illness is,” Yin Cuo lied, actually believing the palace wouldn’t send anyone.

“What about the officials?” Yin Wuhai asked.

The Yin family members exchanged glances. After much hesitation, Yin Cuo said, “Father, with such major events happening at court, who… who would dare come?”

“Not even one?”

Yin Cuo grew more uncomfortable. A Chancellor’s death would normally be a major event, and in normal times, officials would line up down the street to pay their respects. But now the palace had a new Emperor, and everyone knew this Emperor didn’t particularly admire the old Chancellor. Even if Yin Wuhai were healthy, he would likely be replaced.

“There were two minor officials from the Palace Secretariat, but I turned them away.” By the manor’s standards, only officials of third rank or higher were worth announcing. Those two were just sixth-rank Secretariat Drafters whom Yin Cuo didn’t know and couldn’t recall having any dealings with his family.

“Invite them in.”

“They’ve… already gone home.”

“Go invite them personally.”

Yin Cuo felt his father was becoming increasingly irrational and couldn’t help reminding him, “Father, surely you mean to see the Director or Deputy Director of the Secretariat? The ones I mentioned were just Drafters named Nan Zhijin and Zhao Ruosu…”

“Yes, them. Go invite them, right away…” Yin Wuhai broke into violent coughing.

Left with no choice, Yin Cuo asked the family to take good care of his father while he went to invite the two Drafters. On the way, he met an acquaintance who told him some news that greatly alarmed him. He couldn’t help thinking that if his father passed away in the next couple of days, it would be timely – if he lived another four or five days, it could bring serious trouble.

Yin Wuhai lay in bed as the sobbing around him gradually resumed, like vultures testing whether their prey was dead. Growing increasingly irritated, he waved everyone out except his concubine Hong Xiao’er, having her massage his chest in hopes of drawing some vitality from her young body. But he still felt annoyed and sent her away too, lying there alone.

He contemplated his life, the realm of Great Chu, the plans of the imperial court, finally thinking of the Emperor. He murmured, “They will come. Someone from the palace will come.”

The Palace Secretariat was responsible for drafting imperial edicts. Its highest official, the Director, was only of fourth rank. The number of Drafters varied but usually numbered ten, with an even lower sixth-rank status. If they had the Emperor’s trust, these men could be said to have great power despite their low position, but the Palace Secretariat hadn’t enjoyed such trust since the Martial Emperor’s middle years. Its officials were now mere scribes.

Nan Zhijin was fifty years old, while Zhao Ruosu was in his thirties. They had both served in the Palace Secretariat for many years, remaining obscure and rarely appearing before the Emperor. Though they never received promotions, they had also never made any mistakes.

When Chancellor Yin Wuhai was on his deathbed, he wished to see neither his fellow officials nor his subordinates, but rather these two men. No wonder his eldest son Yin Cuo found it strange. In fact, it was already peculiar that Nan Zhijin and Zhao Ruosu dared to visit when all other officials remained silent, though Yin Cuo failed to recognize the significance at the time.

The two men arrived promptly upon invitation. What surprised Yin Cuo even more was that after the servants brought tea, his father dismissed even him from the room to speak privately with the two Palace Secretariat officials.

Yin Wuhai leaned against his bedding and politely invited his guests to drink tea. He first apologized for his son’s earlier discourtesy, then asked, “When does His Majesty plan to ascend the throne?”

The two officials exchanged glances. Though they held the same rank and position, Nan Zhijin was more senior, so naturally he spoke before the Chancellor. He stood up, then sat back down at the Chancellor’s gesture, perching on the edge of his chair, and respectfully replied, “His Majesty does not plan to ascend the throne.”

“Ah yes, His Majesty is restoring his position, so no need for another coronation. But surely he will pay respects at the Ancestral Temple?”

“In three days, the Empress Dowager and officials will go to the Ancestral Temple.”

“Alas, I cannot move… How are things outside?”

“Shang-guan Sheng was intercepted by the Grand General at Hangu Pass. A battle seems likely, though His Majesty hasn’t sent troops in pursuit. The court has largely stabilized. His Majesty pardoned everyone. Grand Tutor Cui still commands the Southern Army, and Prince Donghai was even invited to stay one night in the palace. Hundreds died or were wounded in the palace, and many positions have been reassigned. Yang Feng was appointed Director of the Palace Attendants, and the eunuch Liu Jie was released to serve as Keeper of the Imperial Seal.”

“Liu Jie… I remember him presenting the seal to His Majesty in the Hall of Diligent Administration. After languishing in prison so long, it’s time he came out. But what seal does he have to keep?”

Nan Zhijin shook his head. “The Imperial Seal remains missing. His Majesty doesn’t seem particularly urgent about it and hasn’t sent anyone searching.”

“Unhurried in crisis, merciful to enemies – hmm, His Majesty’s second reign is indeed different from his first.”

The conversation grew sensitive from this point. The two officials exchanged another glance before the younger Zhao Ruosu spoke: “This restraint may be temporary. When His Majesty abdicated before, no officials objected. In returning to supreme power now, he didn’t rely on the court officials either.”

“You worry His Majesty will settle accounts?”

“Judging by His Majesty’s methods, it seems possible. The morning before last, the Palace Guards were frightened away by Northern Army banners, which also forced Grand Tutor Cui to submit. But in truth, they were just banners – only a few thousand troops, each carrying one. The real army is only now gradually arriving in the Capital.”

“Haha…” Yin Wuhai coughed several times before saying seriously, “The Martial Emperor has a worthy successor.”

“I fear Great Chu cannot yet sustain another Martial Emperor.”

Yin Wuhai looked at the two officials. Few understood the importance of these minor officials, and fewer still knew of the close relationship between the Chancellor and these men. They could speak freely with each other.

“Serving the Emperor is like serving a tiger,” Yin Wuhai sighed. “The Emperor is not just a ‘tiger’ but also a child. He has claws that can easily wound, but his thoughts are very simple – he wants to stand at the highest point, to be revered, served, obeyed, and pleased by all. Most crucially, like all children, he needs parents and servants to arrange everything for him. The Emperor is the same. Even the most diligent emperor cannot handle all matters personally. At first, he will try to grasp everything. Those who are smart will give him everything – don’t compete, and certainly don’t oppose him. When he realizes he cannot hold everything and grows bored and tired, he will naturally loosen his grip. At that time, someone need only be ready to catch what falls.”

“If something should happen to you, who should catch all this?” Nan Zhijin asked. This was the main reason he and Zhao Ruosu had come to visit the Chancellor.

Yin Wuhai had pondered this for a long time. He fell into thought again before finally speaking: “After my death, the first Chancellor will inevitably be someone His Majesty reluctantly chooses. He won’t last long. The second will be someone His Majesty truly admires, but he won’t last either – six months to a year at most. Great Chu will have third and fourth Chancellors, and among them will be someone capable of sharing His Majesty’s burdens. Which one specifically, you must judge for yourselves.”

Both officials stood and bowed. Still unsatisfied, Zhao Ruosu asked, “Regardless, His Majesty will choose his Chancellor from among the court officials. Whom does Chancellor Yin favor most?”

Yin Wuhai smiled slightly. “If I name this person, I would harm both him and you. The first rule in humoring children is to let them believe everything was their own idea. It cannot be said, cannot be said.”

Yin Wuhai closed his eyes. He had finished arranging his affairs and no longer owed anything to Great Chu. As for the Emperor, he had never felt he owed anything to any of them.

The two officials prepared to leave, but Zhao Ruosu, still uneasy, raised one more question: “His Majesty seems to truly believe strong enemies will invade Great Chu in the future. He plans not only to send generals to the Western Regions but also to negotiate peace with the Xiongnu.”

Without opening his eyes, Yin Wuhai said, “His Majesty rose again through the military, so he will naturally favor martial over civil matters. These ‘strong enemies’ are merely an excuse to promote military officials. Let him be, but make sure His Majesty understands this course is full of difficulties and dangers…”

Yin Wuhai seemed to have more to say but spoke no further. The two officials quietly withdrew and left the Chancellor’s manor. Their ranks were too low for their visit to attract any attention, and even the Chancellor’s eldest son Yin Cuo soon forgot about them.

At this time, Han Ruzi hadn’t even heard their names.

The next afternoon, the Director of Palace Attendant Yang Feng came on behalf of the Emperor to visit the Chancellor. They chatted for a while, and the old Chancellor appeared in good spirits, speaking many words of repentance and gratitude that contradicted each other, though he didn’t notice.

That night, Chancellor Yin Wuhai breathed his last.

After Han Ruzi returned to the throne, his first difficult task was to choose a new Chancellor from among the officials he did not trust.

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