Chapter 11: Curtailing the Fiefdoms Part 2

“I was worried about you. Now I can rest easy,” Xun Changqing replied evenly, poking Yuan Man’s shoulder with her fingertip. “Do you know His Majesty intends to curtail the fiefdoms?”

At the mention of politics, Yuan Man patted Xun Changqing’s head and teased, “Children should study properly—or at worst, embroider and play music. Your master is versed in both civil and military arts, no ordinary person. Learn well, or you’ll shame your mother consort.”

Treating her like a child again out of nowhere. Xun Changqing’s brows knitted, her small eyes narrowing—but her intimidation fell flat against Yuan Man. Changing tack, she pointed at Yuan Man’s chest. “But you just discussed love with a child—what does that make you?”

“Tsk tsk tsk… Girls from the Xun family are all sharp. I’m scared of you. I heard from Father—His Majesty remembers old affections and has no intent to curtail fiefdoms. But courtiers are already advocating it. Prolonged whispers in the ear could sway him eventually.”

The Empress’s faction, with Shao clansmen spread across Great Qi—if they pushed hard, curtailment might happen in a few years.

Yuan Man swatted Xun Changqing’s hand away and continued, “The other surname kings like Gu Liang Gan would move first anyway. The Pingnan Prince’s Mansion won’t be easily targeted. Why worry? Besides, your father commands half of Great Qi’s troops—His Majesty relies on him. What is there to fear?”

Warriors always thought that way—defending the borders for the nation—forgetting that towering merits bred suspicion from the sovereign and envy from ministers.

Xun Changqing propped her chin in thought again. So, curtailment was already under discussion in the palace. She glanced at the paper and brush on the table, pulled a sheet over, and recalled her father’s handwriting from his letter home. She’d copied it many times these days, and Gu Liang Gan wasn’t familiar with it anyway—her imitation should fool him.

She wrote a few characters, sealed it with wax, and handed it to Yuan Man with a smile. “Deliver this to Gu Liang Gan personally, in secret. Don’t tell anyone. If he asks who sent it, say it’s an old acquaintance—nothing more.”

Yuan Man examined the letter and asked suspiciously, “What’s inside? Not some gift this child wants from Gu Liang Gan to trick me? I’m timid; I can’t handle your games.”

Xun Changqing crooked her finger, beckoning her closer. “There’s a gift for your errand.”

Seeing the serious look on the half-grown child’s face, Yuan Man leaned in obediently. After hearing her words, her heart jolted; her vision blurred, her tongue trembled, words failing her. “You… how do you know about this?”

No need to enlighten fully. Xun Changqing didn’t want to get too close; after speaking, she pushed Yuan Man away, a smile on her lips. “My master told me. You must keep it secret. How to proceed—smart Sister Asu will figure it out. We’ll leave tomorrow. Once I’m at Lingyun Mountain, news will be scarce. Please send me some fun stories from the Imperial Capital.”

To know the emperor’s thoughts, only close ministers would know; palace matters wouldn’t escape the Imperial Guards’ commander’s eyes. Yuan Man was now a pawn planted in the emperor’s heart.

The Ming King Gu Liang Gan was Great Qi’s sole non-royal king, commanding heavy troops. His father Gu Liang Yuan had risen young in battle, his fame legendary—a rare general talent. Like father, like son; Gu Liang Gan inherited the role, guarding the Border City.

To move against the vassal kings, Gu Liangqian would be first, then the Pingnan Prince. Start simple, then difficult—that was the principle. But curtailment wasn’t easy, involving too many generals. It depended on Gu Liang Gan’s response.

After they left, Yuan Man shook her head. She understood the implications—mere scraps of news compared to Xun Changqing’s one sentence; her gains were greater. Lowering her gaze to the route-marked map, even the air felt clearer, her chest lighter. After all this tossing about, she wondered if Asu would resent her—and whether to find a day to coax her.

On the way back, Xun Changqing trailed behind Wei Lingci, unable to see her expression, fixating on her pale cyan skirt. Cautiously, she probed, “Master, how did you know?”

Wei Lingci walked briskly but, mindful of her short legs, slowed down, shifting the lantern-holding hand slightly back. “Your master has her ways. No need for more questions.”

Pushing further might earn a scolding. She’d learn someday; no rush. Gazing at the uneven stone path underfoot, she matched Wei Lingci’s slowed pace. The autumn moonlight melted into crystalline clarity upon entering her eyes, like Wei Lingci’s own luminous gaze. She said, “Master, tomorrow we return to Lingyun Mountain.”

Under the moonlight, that face was utterly aloof, yet in the half-light, Wei Lingci smiled faintly. “As you wish.”

After the morning court in Containment Origin Hall, the emperor kept only three ministers behind—not even the princes involved in politics.

The emperor frowned at the mountain of memorials on the desk. “The borderlands have seen no war; many petition to curtail the fiefdoms. What do you think?” These had piled up for days, forcing him to confront them. The court debated endlessly, chaos reigning; without resolution, it would never end.

Court factions attacked each other, forming cliques as usual. Thus, he kept only the upright ones, unaligned with princes.

At his words, the three exchanged glances. Censor-in-Chief Xiao Lian stepped forward. “Your Majesty, curtailing fiefdoms is a major matter. If the vassal kings comply, it’s straightforward. If not, it could spark war.”

The emperor sneered coldly. “Refusal is disloyalty. Dare they defy my commands?”

“Your Majesty, this minister believes though the borderlands have submitted for years, border affairs are the court’s core vigilance. Abruptly withdrawing troops and generals risks stirring disloyalty. The southwest has been stable mere years; rash curtailment would benefit the Western Fan. Inappropriate.”

Minister of War Chen Wen, from humble origins and promoted by the Previous Emperor, differed from the noble-born Xiao Lian.

Hearing them, the emperor’s brows knitted tighter. He turned to the silent Honglu Temple Minister Xue Shao. “Xue Shao, as Honglu Temple Minister, should we curtail or not?”

Suddenly named, Xue Shao paused—these matters rarely involved him; the question soured his mood. The emperor bypassing the prime ministers suggested reluctance. Clearing his throat slightly, he said, “Border wars are unpredictable. Sudden curtailment invites foreign exploitation. The Ming King and Pingnan Prince hold regions stable; no wars these years. Curtailment would chill the soldiers’ hearts.”

His words eased the emperor’s brows. Gazing at the memorials, he said, “Turkic lands show unrest. Transfer some troops from Border City and Southwest to secure there.”

The three bowed in assent and withdrew from Containment Origin Hall. The curtailment matter ended there.

Author’s Note:

Xun Changqing: Author, author, that move just now was great—do it again tomorrow?

Author: Shameless yesterday, faceless today?

Xun Changqing: I told you early on, you don’t have any, so why should I? I’ll follow your example.

Author: Believe it or not, I’ll give your master a few more admirers…

This plants a cliffhanger—guess it right for a red packet! Master’s words were Xun Changqing’s gift.