Chapter 114: Dispatching the Envoys of the Six Paths (Part I)

Zheng Zhong acted with swift and decisive resolution. Once the meeting adjourned, he submitted a formal memorial recommending Wang Hui for the position of Qianniu Beishen (Imperial Bodyguard) in the Eastern Capital’s Qianniu Guard. Without waiting for the countersignature of Lou Shide, Minister of the Summer Ministry, he forwarded it directly to the Secretariat. The Chancellors of the Secretariat also bypassed the standard review process, sending the blank-titled document straight to the Palace Administration.

The following day, Empress Wu issued an imperial decree granting the request. Simultaneously, she ordered Zheng Zhong to double the authorized strength of the Eastern Capital’s Qianniu Guard to four hundred and ninety-six personnel. The quotas for the Qianniu Beishen and the attendant guards remained unchanged, but the newly appointed guards were to be ranked differently, lowered to the rank of Senior Ninth Grade, Upper Tier—equivalent to the team leaders of the Zhechong Garrisons—and granted the title of Renyong Commandant to reflect their status. All relevant arrangements were to be detailed and reported by the General of the Eastern Capital’s Qianniu Guard in coordination with the appropriate authorities.

Quan Ce accompanied Wang Hui to the palace. Wang Hui, in full armor, went to the Xuanren Gate to report for duty, while Quan Ce headed to the Palace Library to practice calligraphy.

Shortly after he sat down, a young eunuch arrived to summon him: Emperor Ruizong wished to see him.

Quan Ce stood stunned for quite a while before the realization sank in. He double-checked with his eyes, confirming that it was indeed the Emperor who had called for him, not Empress Wu.

As he walked out of his office, several colleagues nearby watched him. When they saw him emerge, they hurriedly turned away or lowered their heads, their attempts to look busy appearing rather awkward.

It was not that Emperor Ruizong never summoned officials, but official audiences were usually reserved for high-ranking chancellors or the heads of the Six Ministries and Nine Courts to discuss state affairs delegated by Empress Wu. Private audiences were generally limited to Li family relatives by blood or marriage. Since the incident involving the return of the Prince of Luling last year, the political climate had turned frigid, and the Emperor had kept an increasingly low profile.

In the Tongming Hall, the Emperor’s private residence, Quan Ce finally saw the monarch who had not appeared at court for quite some time. Ruizong sat upon a dais, dressed in a loose yellow robe embroidered with coiled dragons. He had three short strands of beard beneath his chin, a slightly round face, fair skin, and a serene expression. Beside him sat a plump, beautiful noblewoman who was attending to him with an air of intimacy, though Quan Ce did not recognize her.

"Quan Ce, Junior Minister of the Palace Library, pays respects to Your Majesty," Quan Ce said, bowing deeply. This was the etiquette for court officials meeting in informal settings. Under normal circumstances, if a monarch and subject had not met for a long time, or if age differences were a factor, a full kowtow would be required. However, Quan Ce dared not; he did not know how many eyes, seen or unseen, were watching in the Emperor's private chambers. It was better to do less than to do too much.

"Rise and sit," the Emperor said, his voice warm. With a trace of vague sentiment, he added, "Though you are young, you have long navigated the seas of bureaucracy and can stand on your own. Your reputation has spread far to the Ouyue region; this is no small feat."

Quan Ce felt a chill of alarm. His mind raced, and he quickly lowered his head. "I have no great talent, Your Majesty. I merely happened upon a prosperous age and was fortunate enough to gain fame through my writing. It is nothing more than riding the currents of others' successes. Your Majesty’s praise is more than I deserve."

Emperor Ruizong let out a faint, bitter smile, likely having grown accustomed to officials trembling in his presence—though he knew their fear was not truly directed at him. His expression softened, and his tone remained calm. "I heard from your cousin-in-law that you have a fine vintage in your home called Jiannan Burning Spring. Is this true?"

"Reporting to Your Majesty, it is true." Quan Ce breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his gaze, staring straight ahead. He had assumed the woman was a palace consort, yet the Emperor called her 'cousin-in-law'? Whether the Emperor was being nonchalant or intentionally disparaging himself by saying this in public, Quan Ce could not fathom, but he abandoned his sense of nonchalance and replied solemnly, "An estate manager of mine, while developing trade routes in the Langqiong Zhao region, accidentally discovered this recipe in the countryside and brought it back to the Eastern Capital. If Your Majesty enjoys it, I am honored to offer it to you."

"Ha, ha, ha, there is no need for that," the Emperor said with a smile, showing keen interest. "I hear the output is very small. Is the process rare or the ingredients expensive?"

"As Your Majesty says," Quan Ce replied. He found the conversation strange—discussing local goods was normal, but delving into technical details and costs felt odd. He kept his answer concise: "In Hanzhou of the Jiannan Circuit, there is a Mianzhu County. Ten miles west of the county seat lies Lutang Mountain, where a spring called the Jade Concubine Spring flows. The Burning Spring is brewed with this water, giving it an exquisite flavor. However, the distance is great, and transport is quite difficult."

"Hmm. 'Hardship and struggle lead to success.' High-quality goods are naturally hard to come by; things easily obtained are never cherished," the Emperor remarked with a sigh. He then shifted to the real matter. "I intend to list this as a tribute item, with a monthly supply of one thousand catties to be delivered to the palace. Starting next month, you should find a way to balance the supply properly so as not to harm the commoners."

Quan Ce’s mouth twitched, and he bowed to accept the order. One thousand catties—one hundred jars—accounted for nearly a third of the market’s circulation. He would have to increase production; there was no other way.

Emperor Ruizong did not mention anything else, asked a few questions about the Palace Library, and then dismissed him.

Leaving the Tongming Hall, Quan Ce walked slowly, lost in thought.

Back at the Palace Library, Quan Ce did something unprecedented: he asked about the progress of the map-making project. The responsible Secretary of the Secretariat was surprised but articulate, reporting clearly on the state and county borders, mountains, and rivers, and comparing them to previous maps.

Quan Ce widened his eyes as he scanned the area southeast of Luoyang. "Ahem, the scale and shape of Mount Song seem not to have changed in twenty years? How can one be so negligent when the world is constantly changing? I shall go to Mount Song in a few days to survey it in person."

The Secretary grew nervous, his cheeks flushing. "The Junior Minister is right. As you say, it is our oversight. These mountains and rivers have not been updated in decades. We failed to think it through; I am deeply ashamed." In a moment of impulsiveness, he lit a candle and burned the half-finished map in his hands.

Quan Ce was slightly startled and instinctively reached out, but ultimately did not stop him.

After his shift, Quan Ce returned to the Yiyang Princess’s estate and told Ge Hui about the tribute requirement. He asked him to negotiate with the Directorate of Palace Food and Beverage, suggesting they set the price as high as possible. Since it was the Emperor who requested it, and the Yiyang Princess’s estate was not an ordinary merchant family, it would be unnatural not to profit from the opportunity.

"In that case, I must make other arrangements. Business reputation is paramount. There are many pre-orders from merchants that must be satisfied. With the tribute quota added, there will be very little left for the open market," Ge Hui said, furrowing his brows in distress.

Quan Ce’s eyes lit up. "Brother Ge, that is exactly it. From now on, Jiannan Burning Spring will only accept pre-orders and will not be sold on the open market. We should put more effort into the packaging, using the porcelain from your uncle’s side as containers, and target the high-end market. Once production increases, we can categorize the product and cater to ordinary merchants as well."

Ge Hui listened to his rambling, indifferent at first, but soon his eyes widened. "Brilliant, simply brilliant. First-born, truly, there is no merchant who isn't crafty."

Quan Ce pouted in annoyance. He could have just kept up his act of being pure and detached, but instead, he had become sharp-tongued; heaven knows who he learned that from.

Having dumped the tribute matter onto Ge Hui, Quan Ce informed Li Qiao and slipped out of the capital to survey Mount Song for the map revision.

Following protocol, he first paid a visit to Quan Yi, only to be caught off guard by joyous news: Quan Yi’s concubine was pregnant. Before long, he would have a younger brother or sister. Forcing a smile, he asked about the term of the pregnancy, only to learn it was nearly two months. The time of conception coincided with when he was imprisoned in the Lijing Gate, his charges unclear.

A sharp pain pierced Quan Ce’s heart, gradually numbing him. He pulled a stack of deeds from his waist. "Congratulations, Father. You reside here on Mount Song, far from the dust of the world. Now that the concubine is pregnant, expenses will likely be tight. I have purchased a twenty-qing estate in Songyang County, along with some shops and residences. Please, take them."

Quan Yi’s face was as dark as water, his jaw twitching, but he said nothing, merely lifting his teacup.

Quan Ce took his leave, wrapped in an inexplicable gloom. He had secretly blocked his father; even while in prison, his subordinates at the Wuzi Stele had kept a close eye on his father’s movements, ready to strike if there were any irregularities. The woodcutters and vegetable farmers on Mount Song had been killed in significant numbers. He himself had failed in filial piety, yet here he was, longing for his father’s love. How delusional.

Upon entering the Mount Song villa, Yunu welcomed him into the main hall.

Rui Lai was sitting on the dais, quietly organizing a stack of documents. Seeing him enter, her expressive eyes flickered—filled with confusion, worry, and, most of all, pity.

Quan Ce pressed his lips together, his eyes suddenly turning red. He walked quickly to her side, buried his head in her lap, and his shoulders began to heave.

Rui Lai was startled. Her red lips moved, but she ultimately said nothing. She rested her hands gently on his shoulders, her gaze cast downward, full of unspoken meaning.