As soon as he turned fifteen, Shan Si was finally admitted to attend his first Imperial Court Session as the Crowned Prince of Jianlai.
To prepare for this moment, the previous two years had been rather busy, to say the least.
For starters, he met with Zhuan once a month to study poetry, which ended up consuming his mind most other times. Together, he looked over the famous works of many poets of times past and analysed them to understand their structure and inspiration.
He'd written many side poems as a practice during his studies, and when he could finally meet up with Zhuan, she would grade them one by one, offering critical judgment to help hone his skill. That criticism, though hard at first, became his rock.
All of this effort, and all for one purpose: to finish a poem; a poem that had been in the works since the two started this endeavour. His motivation being that once he ascended the throne, he could present it to his mother as a testament to the hard times long past.
In his juvenile mind, it was a foolproof plan.
Outside of poetry, Shan Si also poured himself into his training in order not to seem suspicious. He diligently took the sword and carefully mastered it, not only impressing his father and uncle but most of the Imperial Guard.
Before he knew it, he became the chatter of the Imperial Capital, some requesting that he lead the Imperial Guard over succeeding the throne.
A talented youth, more skilled than any prince to walk amongst the royal gardens of Chuhen Palace. This boy…he was truly blessed by the gods! But his skills didn't stop there. Rumours spread about how well-read he was, and at just fifteen, he was intelligent and composed enough to mark his place in the Imperial Court.
It was an immediate shift from the frustrated youth that complained to a maturing young man.
Of course, he had Zhuan's secret lessons to thank for that.
To Shan Si, life was moving leisurely, and things seemed to only keep going up. There hadn't been a single incident in the last two years to name, and aside from Weng Jing doing rather well in court, he couldn't seem to impress the masses as much as a youthful prince brimmed with pride.
And surely, Shan Si wore that pride all the way into the Imperial Court. He stood next to his seated uncle, hands clasped behind his back, donning a shit-eating grin; one that somehow bent the nobles toward his favour, simply out of likability.
Or so he thought.
Looking over the notes regarding a growing rebellion in the south. Shan Si and Wan Mie both suggested hearing them out and coming to a peace agreement, ending the risk for good.
The war was long over, and those who had partaken were dying out.
It wasn't the descendants' burden to bear, and Shan Si argued that eloquently. Even if someone argued against the refugees' humanity, Wan Mie would retort with comments, "If they've lost their humanity, throw gold at them. Is it really that difficult to give up a few trinkets?"
"Treat them like dogs?" someone argued. "That's even more outrageous! What would other nations think of Zhonglai?!"
"A dog is happier housed and fed than it digging up scraps in the rain," Wan Mie said, plainly. "So what?"
"Well…" Shan Si began, crossing his arms. "We don't have to treat them like dogs. Zhonglai is a rich nation, and Jianlai is wealthy capital. Why not relocate some of our own funding?"
Another noble argued, "So we're to send out our craftmen into the den of some left-behind bandits? Risk their lives for a few war refugees. Your Highness, think this through!"
"No. We'll give them the chance to hone their own skills by supplying them with what they need. Under our diligence and care, we could turn bandits into loyal allies, furthering the prosperity of peace within Zhonglai. And later, when they've built off the backs of our generosity, we can talk peace. All youth are youth still waiting to be educated, that can benefit Zhonglai more than a civil war. Shendi is known for their cultivation after all. It would be a shame to let that flower wither instead of blossoming."
The nobles chattered amongst themselves, but as soon as they had come to an agreement, someone spoke up cautiously.
"Your Highness, please forgive this teacher for speaking out," Weng Jing began, rising to his feet to speak. "I do agree that there's been unfair treatment between the regions of Zhonglai and there are people suffering at the cost of our own hands…but these are Shendi refugees, not the citizens of our Great Zhonglai. This Teacher is sure he doesn't have to remind His Highness, but Zhonglai's riches don't just appear out of thin air. How would the people of Jianlai react if their taxes went toward another nation? Pray…we shouldn't jump into this matter too quickly."
"Please," Wan Mie spoke up, a snide lift to his lip. "They surrendered forty years ago. Most of their elders responsible have already died out, famished. These children…their…sins…have already been retributed after the war and through the ultimate cost no wealth could compete with. As the Imperial Teacher who speaks to the heavens, you…have to understand. Their land…their home, they were all ravaged and stolen; most of their family enslaved or killed. Do you mean to take it out on their descendants too? Do you know just how many slaves within the capital are saving the citizens of this nation a coin or two?"
"This subject wouldn't dare say such things and finds it inappropriate that the Chancellor even suggests such an atrocity. The situation in the south is dire, that's true—but their rebellion is a simple task to handle. One wrong move, and it'll be pandemonium if the people of Jianlai revolt. This teacher humbly requests the emperor thinks rationally and not jump into the matter."
Wan Mie couldn't rebut quickly enough and was immediately silenced by the rustling movement of robes. Shutting his mouth, all he could do was bite the inside of his cheek raw.
Holding up one hand in the air, and the other propped against his forehead, Emperor Xingcai finally cut in after remaining silent the entire court session.
"There will be no aid sent to the southern rebellion. I've made my decision long before your request, Weng Jing. You needn't worry," he declared, hastily waving his hand in the air. A
Sharp pain burst through Shan Si's chest upon hearing this, but his father paid it no mind.
Turning his head, Emperor Xingcai looked at the snake-eyed elder glaring daggers at Weng Jing. "Chancellor Jiangzi, what would it make of a man if an emperor sent supplies to the opposing faction? Do you think the people would call it an act of goodwill?"
"This subject spoke too hastily," Wan Mie swallowed down a frown, feigning indifference. "Perhaps it would be easier to start—"
"Do you see me as nothing more than a puppet on strings?"
Wan Mie froze. Though he couldn't explain it, sweat pooled at his temples. "This subject…wouldn't ever—"
"Do you want me to take the fall if this plan of yours goes south? You're a smart man, Wan Mie, I'm certain you've already considered this."
"Father! Where did you come up with such an idea--!!" Shan Si's head shot in his direction, but Emperor Xingcai just glared an exhaustive warning in his direction. Shan Si had always taken his father's silence as he had nothing more to add to a discussion, so when his father spoke up, well, it made sense why Shan Si was shocked.
"Your Majesty, if this subject could just—" Wan Mie began, but was immediately cut off by a voice that held twice as much power as his.
"Wan Mie. Who's side are you on?" Emperor Xingcai rose to his feet, squinting down at Wan Mie. He held his robe sleeve out, folding his arm across his chest. "Our interest is for the people of Zhonglai, first and foremost. Your reaction, I can't help but feel it's rather uncharacteristic of you."
Remaining silent, Wan Mie's face twitched.
The Emperor shook his head with a sigh. "I've been silent and enduring for most of these meetings, even considered giving you both a chance on this bizarre plan, but I can't agree with the direction it's taking. Wan Mie, you should have known better than to demand such ridiculous things. Do I look like a god to you?"
"…" The middle of Wan Mie's brows wrinkled just as lowered his head. "This subject has wronged His Majesty. No punishment will ever make up for it."
But the emperor wasn't done.
He turned his head to a eunuch standing next to him and said, "Send a message to The Empress. Tell her to dock Wan Mie's pay by one month."
Neck bent, Wan Mie's hair obscured his expression, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was both humiliated and frustrated. Unable to watch it any longer, Shan Si jumped in, defending him head-on.
"Unc—Chancellor Jiangzi was just following my wishes. I've had these concerns since hearing about the situation in the south."
"You feel strongly about the people. That's good," The emperor said, staring blankly at Shan Si. This was the first his father had ever said something gentle to him, throwing his thoughts into a confused loop, and it was as if his face almost bloomed with hope only for it to be torn down.
"But that logic will only bring ruin to our great Zhonglai. Discard it immediately. Do you want someone to take advantage of you?" Half-lidded, he started for the stairs. "The matter is over; don't spoil my mood."
As they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree; both men were equally stubborn.
Hands clenched, Shan Si shouted. "Father!—"
It earned a dangerous glare from the emperor, stalling him. However, Shan Si merely stood there, his stance hardened as he stared at him.
"This is my burden to bear, not uncles. If there's anyone who should take the blame for this, then the blame is mine, father, and I'll take it with the utmost humility!"
Chapter end.