"Achoo!"
Holy Capital, the Palace.
Inside the Cabinet's administrative office, Zhang Sheng, who was busy reviewing and annotating official documents, let out a sneeze.
The junior official working nearby immediately stopped what he was doing and expressed his concern: "Grand Secretary?"
"It's nothing. Carry on." Zhang Sheng waved his hand, wiping his face fiercely with a handkerchief to clear his head.
"Grand Secretary, shall I have an imperial physician sent to you?"
An official stepped forward and asked tentatively.
"Thud!"
Zhang Sheng slammed his hand heavily onto the inkstone on his desk, then swept a menacing gaze across the faces of all the officials present: "I merely sneezed, and yet every single one of you is making such a fuss. If you all focused that much attention on your official duties, would everyone here be forced to stay up pulling all-nighters?"
"Furthermore, His Majesty is presently indisposed, which makes it all the more imperative that we pull ourselves together. Who among you does not bear heavy responsibilities? Yet whose mind is truly fixed on official business? Do you all think a mere sneeze of mine is more important than the work on your desks?"
Zhang Sheng's angry roar echoed through the office.
However, the junior officials were long used to this. They knelt on the floor one by one, listening solemnly—though in their hearts, they likely didn't feel as much respect as their outward appearance suggested.
"From the Cabinet down to the Six Ministries, the Holy Dynasty is hounded by you, this living King of Hell, as if we were slaves. We toil from dawn till dusk without end; which dynasty has ever had officials suffering as bitterly as we do?"
"His Majesty is gravely ill. No matter how tightly you crack the whip, you can't become Emperor. Once the new emperor ascends the throne, there's no telling whether you'll even keep this seat."
Just as Zhang Sheng was about to continue his lecture, he was interrupted.
A clerk from the Cabinet strode in through the door, walked right up to Zhang Sheng, and whispered something in his ear. Zhang Sheng's expression instantly turned complicated and grim.
Zhang Sheng stood up and barked sternly, "You will finish processing the remaining official business before you are allowed to leave. I will be back later to inspect your work."
With that, Zhang Sheng hurriedly followed the clerk out, leaving the officials in the room to let out collective sighs of relief.
"I just came from my father's quarters, and I wanted to come see the Grand Secretary to discuss a few things."
When Zhang Sheng entered another office, he found only the Second Prince, Zhou Wenyong, who beamed upon seeing him enter, rose to his feet, hurried over to Zhang Sheng's side, and supportively took his arm with warm familiarity: "Grand Secretary, you really must take care of your health. Burning the midnight oil damages the body."
Without a word, Zhang Sheng smoothly withdrew his arm from Zhou Wenyong's grasp and bowed to the Prince: "Thank you for your concern, Your Highness."
He then walked over to a grand master's chair, sat down, and narrowed his eyes: "This subject has received vast imperial grace and knows well the gravity of my duties. If I did not handle everything personally, my heart would remain uneasy, as I would feel I had failed His Majesty's trust."
Zhou Wenyong wore an expression of deep admiration as he seated himself in another grand master's chair: "The Grand Secretary's loyalty is truly unwavering."
"Your Highness may not know this, but the people below are all born with lazy bones. Without a whip cracking behind them, would they ever be willing to work? None of the memorials that reach the Holy Capital are trivial matters—how could we possibly afford to delay them?" Zhang Sheng gave a bitter, weary shake of his head.
Zhou Wenyong smiled and clapped his hands. A young eunuch quickly entered from outside, placed a food box on the table, and silently withdrew.
"That may be true, but Grand Secretary, you also know this is an extraordinary time. The more critical things are, the more you must look after your health. The Holy Dynasty still cannot do without you." Zhou Wenyong personally opened the food box. "This here is prime ginseng..."
Zhang Sheng interrupted him expressionlessly: "If Your Highness came here to pass along a message, isn't there something His Majesty wished to convey? Was this ginseng soup ordered by His Majesty?"
Zhou Wenyong smiled as he ladled out a bowl for Zhang Sheng: "You are an elder, and an elder has stayed up all night. It is only natural for me to show concern for an elder. After all, our Great Holy Dynasty is governed through filial piety."
"We are ruler and subject. Furthermore, His Majesty is currently indisposed, and the Crown Prince is acting as regent. I believe we ought not to keep company too closely. Your Highness should understand this principle."
"Grand Secretary, you are overthinking things. I truly came here under the orders of my imperial father and the Crown Prince to discuss official matters with you. As a prince devoid of power or influence, what idle gossip could possibly arise simply because I share a bowl of ginseng soup with the Grand Secretary while discussing affairs of state?" Zhou Wenyong placed the bowl of ginseng soup right in front of Zhang Sheng. "Grand Secretary, you really are imagining things."
However, Zhou Wenyong quickly continued, "Then again, perhaps you aren't imagining things after all. Who knows, someone might get wind of this and make a big fuss over it. To be frank with you, Grand Secretary, I wouldn't mind seeing who dares to make an issue out of something like this."
"Whoever makes an issue of this is trying to drive a wedge between the members of the imperial family—they deserve to die!"
Hearing Zhou Wenyong's vicious tone, Zhang Sheng felt as though he were meeting him for the very first time. It was only now that he truly began to reassess the Second Prince standing before him.
"I am a prince of the current dynasty, and you are the Grand Secretary of the current dynasty. But even if it weren't you, if I were to grow close to anyone at a juncture like this, people would naturally make a fuss about it anyway. Besides, though I am a prince, am I not allowed to be seen in public? Are princes forbidden from associating with others?"
"Even though my imperial father's health is poor right now, I have my eldest brother securely established in the East Palace. If people start wagging their tongues simply because we shared a bowl of ginseng soup, tell me, Grand Secretary, shouldn't they die? To sow discord among the flesh and blood of the imperial house, trying to step over us brothers to earn a pristine reputation—hm, they deserve to be hacked to a thousand pieces."
"Therefore, Grand Secretary, we need only conduct ourselves uprightly and with a clear conscience."
With a smile, Zhou Wenyong pushed the ginseng soup a little further forward.
After a moment of silent thought, Zhang Sheng slowly picked up the bowl of ginseng soup and took a sip. The warm liquid entered his throat, instantly easing his fatigue.
Yet Zhang Sheng suddenly felt something was amiss. The Second Prince spoke with such righteous indignation, but in truth, he was likely dying for someone to impeach him—preferably someone from the East Palace making the first move. With His Majesty's health failing and his mind focused entirely on the peace of the state and the family, as long as the Second Prince played the aggrieved victim and shed a few tears, His Majesty would undoubtedly fly into a rage. And then, as for the East Palace side...
Zhang Sheng had no desire to delve any deeper into the thought. He set down the ginseng soup and decided to get straight to the point: "What instructions does His Majesty have? May Your Highness please convey them."
"You, oh you." Zhou Wenyong chuckled and shook his head, finally turning to the real business at hand. "The Chen State has dispatched an envoy delegation to our Holy Dynasty."
"To offer tribute?" Zhang Sheng nodded. "That can be considered joyous news. Since Your Highness is here to deliver the message, does that mean the reception of the delegation will be managed by Your Highness and this subject?"
Zhou Wenyong drew a gold-bordered memorial from his lapel and handed it to Zhang Sheng: "This is the state missive submitted by the Chen State. Furthermore, the leader of this Chen State delegation is none other than the Crown Prince of Chen State, Lv Shaowu."
The Crown Prince himself?
Zhang Sheng instantly felt that something was wrong. He reached out to take the gold-bordered memorial, opened to the first page, and read:
"The Chen State petitions for punishment."