A Scummy Alpha Emperor Transmigrated and Marked the Powerful Prime Minister - Chapter 30

Whether the Emperor should be replaced or not?

Lu Siling mulled over those words. Naturally, the best option was not to replace the Emperor. The political landscape of Great Zhou was unstable; the civil officials represented by the Cui family and the nobility were locked in a struggle for power and profit, splitting the court. Decrees were often issued in the morning and rescinded by evening, depending on who held the upper hand.

Although she tried her best to suppress them, she could not, after all, exercise absolute imperial authority. Guang Han was right: it was better not to change the Emperor.

Of course, she meant for the time being. As for what would happen later, they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

If the young Emperor stood on her side, then once she took full power, their combined strength would force both the Cuis and the nobles to either obey or face the extermination of their clans.

Lu Siling nodded. “Guang Han makes a fair point.”

Guang Han: “…” Was it my point, or did you already have this in mind, Grand Chancellor?

As one of the four “Guang” attendants and a confidant of the Grand Chancellor, Guang Han had always played the role of the strategist. She knew well that a major incident had occurred a few days ago. Dr. Meng had shut herself in the pharmacy for three days, only to bolt straight for the Grand Chancellor’s room upon emerging. Not long after, the sound of crashing and shattering echoed from Lu Siling’s quarters.

About an hour later, Meng Wushang had called people in; piles of porcelain shards were swept out, and the tables and chairs were marked with deep blade gashes. Anyone seeing it could easily imagine the violence that had occurred in that room.

Guang Han had been reflecting on the Grand Chancellor’s shifting attitude toward the young Emperor—from anger at her lack of ambition to disappointment and eventually loathing. As members of the household, they had seen it all.

Guang Wei had personally experienced the sudden upheaval in the palace. The sisters had heard bits and pieces of her account. They all believed the Emperor was hateful for detaining the Grand Chancellor overnight—no one knew what had happened during those hours. They had seen the Grand Chancellor emerge the next day, sick and weakened, the anxiety on Meng Wushang’s face, and the agonizing pain Lu Siling endured during her recent Heat.

While they didn’t know the exact details that led to this situation, they didn’t need to; they only knew it was linked to the young Emperor. Thus, they all believed that if the Emperor was hell-bent on making their Lady’s life miserable, what would be the harm in replacing her? Besides, the “villains” around the Emperor weren’t their people; if someone else killed the Emperor, what did it have to do with them?

To these women, dynasties and thrones were far less important than their own Lady.

However, the Grand Chancellor’s attitude today was strange, appearing as though she intended to protect the young Emperor.

Granted, the Emperor’s performance today had exceeded their expectations. She had been willing to step up for Nanny Mute. Even though she hadn’t actually had to act, the fact that she had noticed the situation and prepared to leave her carriage was enough. The Emperor was a person of “ten thousand gold” status; with them there, she couldn’t be allowed to intervene personally. But given the circumstances, if they hadn’t been there, the young Emperor truly would have stepped in herself.

The four attendants frequently entered the palace with Lu Siling and had a basic understanding of the Emperor. She was someone whose eyes were usually fixed on the heavens—rightfully so, as she was the sovereign. Yet today, she had noticed Nanny Mute’s suffering, showing more observation than anyone else present. If it weren’t for her, they would still be in the dark, and Nanny Mute might have died without them ever knowing why.

The young Emperor’s actions today were indeed transformative, but the fact that the Grand Chancellor’s intense hatred had visibly faded likely wasn’t just because of this one incident.

Guang Han studied her Lady. Perhaps Lu Siling didn’t realize it herself, but while her tone remained annoyed when mentioning the Emperor, she no longer seemed set on killing her.

Compared to the other three, Guang Han was much more perceptive. Although she had only heard fragments of the events that night, she had guessed the gist of it. She knew the Grand Chancellor would not forgive someone who harmed her—or even someone who nearly harmed her. The current shift in attitude must have an internal cause, or perhaps that night didn’t go the way she thought? Regardless of the relationship between the two, if anyone dared to harm the Grand Chancellor, they would drag that person to hell with them even if it cost their lives.

The Emperor… I hope she does not fail the Grand Chancellor’s painstaking efforts. They had seen Lu Siling stay up until midnight preparing lesson materials for the Emperor; she was truly exhausting her heart and mind for her.

Guang Han thought for a moment. “My Lady, reliable sources say the Cui family wants to get their hands on the Capital Patrol.”

“Who is it?”

“Cui Bai is useless now. The man the Cuis are pushing forward is called Cui Zhen. He is eighth in the family ranking, often called ‘Cui Eight,’ and is the Empress Dowager’s cousin.”

That was the nature of noble clans—hundreds or thousands of members. As long as you didn’t pull them out by the roots, they would always find a way to stir up trouble again.

“They lost the City Guard and now want the Capital Patrol? Does the Cui family think the Great Zhou belongs to them?” Guang Wei spoke angrily; she loathed the Cuis.

Guang Han raised a hand to stop her. “The title of Marquis Jingning has been tied to the state since the rise of Emperor Taizong. Though the holder is a noble, they are non-combative and have traditionally commanded the Patrol. Don’t be fooled by the current Marquis’s ‘self-preservation’ act—she appears not to participate, but that memorial… unless the Emperor rules personally, who would dare approve it? She’s just putting on a show for others.”

“See? I really am going to quit. Don’t drag me into your mess.” Since the Marquis Jingning took no sides, she wasn’t liked by the other nobles either.

Guang Wei finally understood. “Then, should we help the Marquis?”

Guang Han shook her head. “It is best if our Secretariat Manor does not interfere in this.”

“We can’t let the Cuis have the Patrol, but we won’t act, and the nobles don’t like her… can she hold out against the Cuis?” Guang Wei truly didn’t understand. Aside from them, who else could help the Marquis? If they didn’t help, the Cuis would surely win.

Guang Han looked at her and could only turn to Lu Siling for help. Lu Siling’s lips curled up; it was a case of “a scholar meeting a soldier”—logic was useless.

“Leak the news of the Cui family’s move on the Capital Patrol to the Emperor.”

If Lin Jiayue was truly brilliant, she would know what to do next. If she was a fraud, why bother cooperating?

Guang Han’s eyes lit up. “A brilliant plan, My Lady.”

“What? No, stop talking in riddles, I don’t get it.” Guang Wei’s “clear and foolish” gaze made Guang Han laugh in exasperation.

“Marquis Jingning said the Chu family is forever loyal to the Emperor, and only the Emperor. That being the case, if the Emperor asks her to handle something, can she refuse?”

At the same time, the Grand Chancellor wanted to test the young Emperor’s ability.

Guang Wei nodded half-comprehendingly. “Fine, I’ll have someone do it.”

Guang Han immediately stopped her. “Have Guang Qing go.”

“Are you looking down on me?” Guang Wei finally realized.

“I am not.”

“You are!”

Guang Wei pointed at Guang Han, unable to speak for a moment, then turned to complain. “My Lady, Guang Han is bullying me!”

Lu Siling raised an eyebrow and rose with a smile. “Settle it yourselves.” She was now more curious about what Lin Jiayue would do once she knew the news.

In short: dog Emperor, your move.

On the other side, Lin Jiayue was completely unaware that Lu Siling had prepared an “interview” for her. If she passed, they could cooperate; if she failed, all the “favorability” she had accumulated would go to waste.

Yes, it counted as favorability—though previously Lu Siling’s favor was at negative ten thousand, wanting to hack her to death. Now, whether it was still a negative number was hard to say, but at least Lu Siling was no longer obsessed with the hacking part.

Once Lin Jiayue showed incompetence, there would be no more possibility of cooperation. Lu Siling’s heart was with the country—after the reforms succeeded, she wanted to bring prosperity and happiness to the people, just like during the peak of Great Zhou when the granaries were full and any citizen willing to work could eat their fill. No, she even wanted to establish a rational system where, even as the dynasty developed, land consolidation wouldn’t occur and more wealth wouldn’t be needed by the people—as long as they were fed and clothed.

Having read the novel, Lin Jiayue naturally knew Lu Siling’s ambitions. That was why, even knowing the woman hated her and wanted her dead, she still chose to build a relationship and seek cooperation. Lin Jiayue hadn’t blindly chosen to work with Lu Siling; she had simply selected the partner with the highest survival rate. If she could help the people of the world in the process, why not?

Currently, she was leaning back in a lounge chair, listening to Wei Jinming read the New Year congratulatory memorials. The content was making her drowsy. She had probably watched too many dramas and read too many novels—their lines always mentioned the “Hour of the Rat” (midnight). She had instinctively said they would meet at the Rat hour. In reality, she could stay up until 1 or 2 AM looking at her phone or reading books without a problem, but in the ancient world with no entertainment, what was she supposed to do?

She couldn’t exactly call a group of young ladies to perform; she had the power, but thought better of it. It was freezing cold—making people perform in a room without central heating or AC was just cruel.

“What time is it?”

“Reporting to Your Majesty, fifteen minutes until the Hour of the Rat.”

“Is the Hidden Pavilion always this punctual?” Lin Jiayue muttered.

They wouldn’t show up until the exact second of midnight. Heaven knew she had been waiting here for four hours. She wondered what Lu Siling was doing—likely already asleep. If only she had a phone, she could call and ask if she was awake. If she wasn’t, she’d tell her to go to sleep; if she was, she’d tell her to go back to sleep. At the thought, Lin Jiayue chuckled, her drowsiness fading significantly.

Wei Jinming, seeing the smile, let out a sigh of relief. Her Majesty’s mood seemed good, and she had even let him stay close to serve her. Thank the heavens, the Emperor hasn’t grown tired of me.

Just then, Zhang Huairou entered. “Your Majesty, I have arrived.”

“Huairou.” Lin Jiayue waved her hand. “Xiao Ming-zi, you may go.”

Wei Jinming: “…” Curse that Zhang Huairou. He had finally managed to get close to the Emperor, only to be interrupted. Just wait—once I find a chance, I’ll make Zhang Huairou scrub chamber pots. A hundred a day. No food until they’re finished.

Watching Wei Jinming’s back, Lin Jiayue smiled. “Huairou, it looks like Xiao Ming-zi is mad at you.”

“Reporting to Your Majesty, Eunuch Wei will always be the number one eunuch of Daming Palace.”

The number one spot attracted everyone’s gaze. As the number two eunuch and Commander of the Day-Guard, he wouldn’t attract attention. It was better for those in the Hidden Pavilion to remain in the shadows.

Lin Jiayue rose and picked up the hand-warmer. “By the way, go and send a message to the Grand Chancellor tomorrow.”

She didn’t have a phone, but she had a “courier,” and word traveled fast.