Fu Ping’an was not very satisfied with how this matter concluded.
Because Fang Zicong fainted, the Morning Court could only adjourn early. She specifically dispatched the Imperial Physician to examine Fang Zicong, but the diagnosis was simply “pent-up frustration in the heart.”
According to Fu Ping’an’s plan, Fang Zicong should have requested resignation before her again, and this time she could have reluctantly said, “Very well, I cannot force the Prime Minister. I shall agree then.”
Very perfect.
Also very good for the livestream effect—”livestream effect” was a term the danmaku taught her.
But as it was, the difference wasn’t particularly large. It was just a few days later when Fang Zicong finally submitted his resignation memorial. Naturally, Fu Ping’an did not approve it, for dismissing the Prime Minister while he was ill would seem too cold and unfeeling. Thus, in substance, the position of Prime Minister became vacant, and its functions were distributed among the other two Dukes and the Emperor.
Fu Ping’an knew that in the future, there might be dynasties without a Prime Minister. But in reality, someone would always perform the functions of the Prime Minister. Others, however, naturally did not know this and felt there must always be a Prime Minister. For a time, there were discussions about candidates for the next Prime Minister, discussions about those worthy of being installed in the Kylin Pavilion, discussions about whether Fang Zicong should be severely punished—and all sorts of other discussions.
But no one discussed Fu Ping’an’s excursion outside the palace anymore.
Also, because she now began having the matters of the Morning Court recorded and even publicly posted portions of the content, everyone began paying more and more attention to their own remarks. They often polished them meticulously before being willing to present them. Even so, after being publicly posted, they often sparked the next round of debate—because in the past, once words were spoken, they were done, and people’s memories weren’t so good. But now, those words were posted right at the entrance of Chaoyang Palace. Everyone, entering or leaving the palace, could review them again.
For a time, an unprecedented atmosphere of academic and opinionated discourse flourished in court and the wider learned circles. The biggest victim, perhaps, was the Grand Historian, Si Fangxuan. The Grand Historian changed from an obscure, uneventful official position to a figure everyone was after—because all words were excerpted by her hand.
For a period, Si Fangxuan was at the center of the storm, even shutting her door to visitors, leaving early and returning late. Seeing this, Fu Ping’an felt some regret. So after a while, she also had Wang Ji stand to the side and simultaneously record. Ostensibly, this was to share the Grand Historian’s workload. In reality, however, it was the first time a palace attendant appeared before the court. Someone impeached this matter, but it was quickly submerged in the flood of other discussions.
Fu Ping’an now had her own understanding of managing subordinates. She thought the best way, put simply and understandably, was to find something for everyone to do.
The summer of the fifth year of Long’an thus passed amidst the clamor brought by these new things. That year’s Winter Sacrifice, Prince Regent Fu Lingxian presented the tiger tallies to Her Majesty during the suburban sacrifices and submitted a memorial wishing to resign the position of Prince Regent. Her Majesty repeatedly refused, only appreciating the Prince Regent’s loyalty and accepting the tiger tallies.
This year, compared to the previous two years, was truly a very good year. Apart from a flood in the south that damaged some farmland and villages, there were no other disasters. The fields cultivated in the northwest began producing grain, effectively supporting the disaster-stricken areas. The outskirts of Weijing no longer had the swarms of disaster refugees seen in previous years.
That year’s Lantern Festival, Her Majesty again lifted the palace curfew. Luo Qionghua went happily, but Her Majesty was presiding over the ceremony at the front court. She did not see her at all in the rear palace, not even the Empress Dowager. The Empress Dowager said she felt unwell and did not appear before others, thus entrusting Commandery Princess Yunping, the adopted daughter of Prince Regent Fu Lingxian, to preside over the matter. On another level, this was naturally also a favor and tolerance shown to the Prince Regent.
Luo Qionghua felt very dejected. That night, she wanted to go to Yong Mountain again. With great difficulty, she ran to the North Palace Gate, only to find that the previously unguarded palace gate now had many more soldiers. She was quickly discovered and brought back to her mother’s side.
Luo Qionghua hugged her mother’s arm and pouted.
It must be Her Majesty’s doing.
She had kindly informed her of a good path out of the palace, and as a result, she had someone guard it. It was a bit too much, really.
But upon second thought, Luo Qionghua also thought: Of course, Ping’an is Her Majesty after all.
Approaching midnight, as per Her Majesty’s request, everyone gathered at Xihe Square in front of Chaoyang Palace. The moon in the sky was like a jade disc, bright and pure. The palace lanterns on the ground twinkled like stars. Chaoyang Palace stood towering in the night, as majestic as mountain peaks, bringing a sense of overwhelming grandeur.
Just as everyone was wondering why they had been summoned here, the sound of bianzhong bells suddenly rang out.
The sound was distant, ethereal, and empty, as if striking right into the heart. No one knew where it came from. It felt as though it descended from the heavens. The crowd gradually quieted down and unconsciously looked up at the sky.
Clang—Clang—Clang—
Luo Qionghua was held in her mother’s arms, counting the bell chimes in her heart. When she reached the twelfth toll, a sudden sound of sharp objects piercing the air rang out. Twelve bright rays of light shot from the city gate tower into the sky.
Luo Qionghua widened her eyes. “What is that?”
Chang Min didn’t know either, but not wanting to appear lacking in presence before her daughter, she said nothing. Those streaks of bright fire, like arrows, shot into the sky and then exploded in the air, transforming into multicolored auras of light—as if flowers were blooming in the sky.
Xihe Square fell utterly silent. Only after the sparks disappeared from the sky did a hubbub gradually rise.
“Is it a miracle? Could it be divine fire descending from heaven?”
“Who summoned it?”
“No one summoned it. It must be because the world is prosperous and peaceful that the divine blesses our Great Wei!”
“Then it was summoned by Her Majesty, because Her Majesty is a rare sage ruler!”
…
【Hint Oh: The fireworks were still a bit shabby.】
【Ge Ge: After all, they were just made. Don’t demand too much, okay? This is the first firework of this era!】
【Chang’an Flower: I think they’re very beautiful too. East wind at night releases a thousand trees of blossoms, and even more, they fall like stars in rain.】
【Baby Ping’an Is So Cute sent the streamer a Firework Ferris Wheel】
【Taro Boba Milk Tea sent the streamer a New Year’s Firework】
【Sleepless Days…】
The gifts in the livestream room and the fireworks before her eyes overlapped, displaying before Fu Ping’an a magnificent scene that no one else in this dynasty could ever possibly witness. Therefore, Fu Ping’an stood atop the city gate tower with an expression that, compared to the surrounding crowd’s shock, could be called calm.
After the fireworks fell, she looked at the Grand Historian, Si Fangxuan, beside her and praised, “You calculated the time very accurately.”
Si Fangxuan raised her hand in a salute. Although she had been fully responsible for this matter, her expression was still somewhat dazed. Yet she still spoke respectfully: “This is my family’s inherited learning and my duty. I dare not err.”
Over the past half-year, Fu Ping’an had discovered that Si Fangxuan was also a talent. The other’s most valuable trait was being righteous and unyielding without being rigid. For example, at the beginning, when Fu Ping’an said she would publicly post some of the ministers’ statements from the Morning Court, Si Fangxuan felt it was not proper and raised doubts in person, thinking how military and state secrets could be so carelessly made available for all to view and comment on.
But Fu Ping’an said, “First, I am not making all political affairs public, only parts closely related to the ministers, such as the selection of candidates to enter the Kylin Pavilion. Furthermore, this move can allow more lower-ranking officials to participate in the latest major court affairs, preventing them from being controlled by high-ranking officials due to lack of information. I hope they can be directly loyal to me, not loyal to their superiors.”
Si Fangxuan pondered for a moment, then understood. And very quickly, she began to form her own ideas about what could and could not be disclosed.
Moreover, she was one of the rare professional talents in astronomy and calendar systems in this era, surpassing ninety percent of people especially in mathematics. This time, to achieve the effect of setting off fireworks at midnight, she took full charge and executed it flawlessly.
Fu Ping’an nodded with satisfaction, then looked down at Xihe Square below the city wall. At the same time, she spoke: “So what do you say? Are you willing to take up the post of Prime Minister?”
Ah Zhi carried a palace lantern and walked a few steps, illuminating a corner previously hidden in shadow. There, sitting on a folding chair, was Zhang Qixing. She was still looking up at the sky, her expression one of shock and solemnity. After a long time, she spoke: “Xunzi said in the ‘Discourse on Heaven’ that Heaven’s course is constant. I have often thought that so-called auspicious omens are merely a kind of natural phenomenon. But Your Majesty, you are somewhat too astonishing.”
Fu Ping’an said, “The noble regard it as a cultural embellishment, while the common people regard it as divine. When the Prince Regent spoke to me about auspicious omens, she said the same.”
Zhang Qixing finally looked at Fu Ping’an. “The noble regard it as a cultural embellishment because they have discovered the laws and principles within it. But if one does not know, how is one different from the common people?”
Fu Ping’an smiled. “If Elder Zhang becomes my Prime Minister, she will naturally come to know all these things.”
Zhang Qixing feigned composure, but her palms were slightly damp. It had been a long time since she felt such excitement.
She looked at the sky again and spoke: “May I be permitted to know how much silver and manpower such a miracle consumed? Though miracles can enlighten the common people, in the final analysis, practical production is what matters.”
Fu Ping’an was taken aback for a moment, then laughed.
Zhang Qixing was clearly agreeing. See, she was already lecturing her.
Fu Ping’an smiled and said, “Tomorrow, we will begin experimenting with the Alternate Field Method in the capital region. Barring unforeseen circumstances, within three years, yields per mu can be increased threefold or more. Can this serve as the basis for inviting Elder Zhang to be my Prime Minister?”
Zhang Qixing said, “Hmph, then I’ll take office when the results come out.”
Fu Ping’an replied with a troubled look, “Then the court will have to go three years without a Prime Minister.”
Zhang Qixing said nothing more.
Traces of the fireworks still lingered in the sky, as if splashed ink left a diffusing ink mark. The night was still long, slowly passing. When dawn broke, it was a new year.
That year’s Lantern Festival left a deep impression in the hearts of many. Especially since there was no such grand spectacle for the next two years. Many years later, the common people of Weijing still showed indescribable expressions when describing the shock of seeing fireworks for the first time.
Moreover, towards those who moved there later and hadn’t seen it, they would often display a pained expression of superiority, always compelled to say: “Well, you’ve never seen it. The first part of the sixth year of Long’an, that Lantern Festival…”
For the common people, it was a grand spectacle unforgettable for years. But for the court officials, another matter was even more surprising.
Just a few days after the New Year, an imperial decree was swiftly delivered by messenger from the palace. That decree announced the new Prime Minister, finally appointed after half a year.
Zhang Qixing received the decree right there at Huo Residence. Wang Ji, who proclaimed the decree, read out the name on it with disbelief—
“…You, Chen Songru of Shangyi in Ruyue, are appointed Prime Minister…”
The name was not Zhang Qixing, but the person kneeling on the ground to receive the decree was indeed Zhang Qixing.
After handing the decree to the kneeling Zhang Qixing, Wang Ji secretly glanced at Chen Yan beside her. Chen Yan was expressionless, but her eyes were vacant.
Chen Songru was the military advisor under Emperor Gaozu back then. On the day Gaozu founded the dynasty, she had retired to the mountains and forests, and decades had passed since.
Many believed she had achieved enlightenment and become an immortal.
Of course, more importantly for Wang Ji, thirty years ago, she was already the clan head of the Chen Clan—she could be said to be an elder of Chen Yan’s elders.
Omg goosebumps!!!