Chapter 134.

The art of governing people lies in balancing benevolence with authority.

After the bloody shockwave, the once lax atmosphere inherited from the late emperor's reign was swiftly swept away. The remaining court officials, now fully aware of the precariousness of their positions, clung tightly to their official hats, their actions far more meticulous than before.

Yin Chengyu was finally satisfied. After severely dealing with a batch of officials, he chose to show mercy to those less involved in the scandalous acts of the Shao faction, issuing lighter punishments.

These officials were not core members of the Shao faction. Their transgressions were not insignificant, but neither could they be ignored. After careful consideration, Yin Chengyu decided to demote them to provincial posts.

Compared to those whose homes were raided or who met a swift execution, these demoted officials had it relatively good. Having learned their lesson, they might still have the chance to return to the capital if they performed well in the provinces.

The officials who were executed or demoted were swiftly removed, and the number of those holding posts dwindled. Yet, the atmosphere during the grand assemblies had noticeably shifted—no longer was there the heavy, suffocating tension. It was clear to all that His Majesty did not intend to completely wipe out his enemies.

Next, Yin Chengyu promoted a number of diligent and capable officials from the remaining pool to fill the vacancies in the Six Ministries. The gaps left behind by these promotions were filled with over twenty officials selected from the Hanlin Academy and the newly passed imperial examination candidates.

With the vacancies filled, the large-scale purge was finally stabilized.

Among those promoted, the most enviable figure was the new top scholar, Xie Yunchuan.

When Xie Yunchuan first became the top scholar, many believed he was from a humble background. It wasn’t until Xie Wendao's case was revisited, and the emperor returned the Xie family’s old mansion, inscribed with the plaque reading “Clean and Upright,” that people learned Xie Yunchuan was actually the orphaned son of the Xie family!

Already a member of the Hanlin Academy with his talent recognized, Xie Yunchuan’s father had been wronged to death. Hence, when Yin Chengyu selected officials to fill the vacancies, Xie Yunchuan was transferred to the Ministry of Personnel for political oversight.

The Ministry of Personnel handled the appointments, evaluations, promotions, and transfers of officials—it was the most powerful of the Six Ministries.

After Shao Tian was dismissed, Yin Chengyu promoted Yu Chen, the emperor’s maternal uncle, from the Ministry of Works to the Ministry of Personnel.

Yu Chen’s connection to the emperor alone granted him enormous power. Anyone who could gain Yu Chen’s favor within the Ministry would have an almost limitless future ahead.

Under the previous emperor, even a simple scholar from the imperial examination would have had to wait years or use connections to get a position. For those who joined the bureaucracy, ambition quickly turned to resignation as they were slowly worn down by the system. No matter how hard they worked, the road to advancement seemed forever blocked.

But now, everything was different.

The current emperor was wise, decisive, and adept at utilizing talent. To rise in the ranks no longer required backdoor dealings; it only demanded hard work and results.

The officials were now fired up, eager to prove themselves.

The court's atmosphere had completely transformed, and Yin Chengyu was pleased to witness it.

With the Wan Shou Longevity Festival approaching, he took the opportunity to host a grand banquet in the Huangji Hall of Supreme Authority, solidifying his control and securing loyalty.

All officials of the fourth rank and above were invited to bring their families to the palace, while those below the fourth rank, along with the current staff from various government offices, were granted food and drink as a sign of shared celebration. The atmosphere that day was light and festive, with music and dance filling the Huangji Hall of Supreme Authority.

Clad in his imperial robes, Yin Chengyu sat on the Dragon Throne, receiving congratulations from the assembled officials.

Under the intoxicating haze of drink, as the warmth of the evening seeped in, Lu Jing, the esteemed Chancellor and Minister of War, rose from his seat. His voice was firm, yet edged with a subtle concern as he addressed the emperor directly, “Your Majesty, you’ve tirelessly dedicated yourself to governance, driven by an unwavering commitment to the realm. However, as you now stand at the threshold of maturity, with the imperial harem neglected and no heir in sight, it is with heavy hearts that we, your ministers, express our growing unease. We humbly beseech you, on this auspicious day, to take a consort and establish an heir, for the future of the dynasty.”

Ever since Emperor Yin Chengyu ascended to the throne, such petitions had been made time and again, yet each one had been swiftly quashed by his royal hand. It seemed that only now, with the mounting silence on the matter, had Lu Jing and his fellow courtiers finally dared to speak their minds in the emperor’s presence.

The issue of an heir was of grave importance, a matter that weighed heavily on the state’s stability, and their concerns were entirely valid.

But Yin Chengyu had other plans, and, in response to the unspoken pressures in the room, he spoke slowly, almost languidly, his words cutting through the tension. “An empire unfinished, a dynasty not yet solidified—how can one think of settling down? I take my predecessors as a cautionary tale. I will not allow the intrigues of the harem to tie my hands.”

Although he did not name names, his meaning was clear, and the courtiers understood exactly who he was referring to. The late emperor had left behind an overabundance of heirs—six sons who had reached adulthood, not to mention those who had perished young. However, it was the sheer number of heirs, combined with the late emperor’s lack of foresight, that had led to disaster. Now, only the current emperor and the young fourth and fifth princes remained alive, and Yin Chengyu’s words made it clear that he would not repeat his predecessor’s mistakes.

The older ministers hesitated, caught between their duty and the emperor’s sharp response. They knew the importance of securing an heir, yet the emperor’s refusal to follow the traditional path left them torn.

If he were to open the harem to concubines, what would stop him from succumbing to the same fate as his predecessor—entangled in the distractions of women, consumed by pleasures that could weaken his rule?

After all, when the late emperor ascended, he was no such fool.

Yin Chengyu scanned the room, his gaze resting on the ministers who were now silently wavering, their faces betraying doubt.

He added with a sly, almost provocative edge, “I have not yet reached the age of old. To take an heir now, before I even fully come into my own, would only set the stage for future conflict. The idea of a child inheriting before the father has even reached his peak—now that would be the true danger. The matter of heirs is premature.”

The courtiers were clearly shaken, their uncertainty now palpable. After all, the emperor was still young, and to name an heir now, while he himself had not yet reached his full strength, could lead to problems in the future. They remembered all too well the tragic stories of emperors whose longevity led to their sons, impatient for power, turning against them.

The ministers, their resolve faltering, began to slip back into their seats, some having already given up the argument. Yin Chengyu, sensing their retreat, offered a subtle concession. “I understand your concerns, and when the time is right—once we’ve secured the realm, then we may consider the matter of an heir.”

With this, the ministers, uncertain and unwilling to challenge him further, sat back in silence, their thoughts a swirl of mixed emotions. They didn’t know whether to be relieved or disturbed.

Yin Chengyu, clearly satisfied with his response, allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips. His gaze drifted toward Xue Shu, and with a deft, almost imperceptible movement, he slid his hand into Xue Shu’s beneath the cover of his sleeve.

The tension that had been building in Xue Shu’s face—the tightening of his jaw, the clenching of his fists—softened slightly at the touch, though his eyes remained hard, his focus unwavering.

The emperor, feeling the subtle shift in his companion, brushed his thumb gently against the base of Xue Shu’s hand, his movements slow and deliberate. Beneath the curtain of silk, his gesture was private, and yet charged with unspoken meaning. His voice was a low whisper, barely audible in the room. “I haven’t broken my promise.”

Xue Shu, his face unreadable, clenched his hand tighter around the emperor’s, a quiet acknowledgment passing between them. The tension in his shoulders eased, but his eyes, dark and smoldering, betrayed the storm that still raged within him.

The emperor’s expression softened as he tilted his head slightly, his eyes glinting in the flickering candlelight. His throat worked gently as he swallowed, the curve of his Adam’s apple visible in the dim light. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words, as Xue Shu, restrained but resolute, tightened his grip once more.

*

The commotion in the front hall quickly reached the women's section in the rear.

Hearing the whispers from her attendants, Empress Dowager Yu was puzzled. "The Emperor had just mentioned someone he was fond of. Why is he not in a hurry now? He may not be urgent, but that young lady can't wait forever."

Since the last time when Yin Chengyu had inadvertently let something slip, Empress Dowager Yu had privately scrutinized all the eligible women both inside and outside the palace. Yet, despite her search, none seemed to match the Emperor's rumored interest.

Upon hearing the noise from the front hall again, she could no longer suppress her curiosity and ordered her close attendant, "Go summon Zheng Duobao."

Zheng Duobao had been personally assigned to Yin Chengyu when he moved to Ciqing Palace. Over the years, though, she had refrained from intervening in his affairs and had never summoned him personally.

As soon as Zheng Duobao received the summons, his heart skipped a beat. When he arrived before the Empress Dowager and met her sharp, probing gaze, his nerves grew even more frazzled. But he still managed to maintain a composed exterior as he bowed respectfully.

Empress Dowager Yu didn’t waste time with pleasantries. She asked pointedly, "You attend to the Emperor every day. Surely you must know which young lady has captured his interest?"

The question was sudden and, despite Zheng Duobao's usual calm demeanor, it made him flinch. His usually pleasant round face twisted with discomfort.

There was no young lady who had caught the Emperor's eye, but there was certainly one favored eunuch. How should he even begin to explain that?

Stammering, Zheng Duobao replied, "T-That... how could a humble servant like myself know who His Majesty fancies?"

"You attend to His Majesty's daily routine. Have you not seen him send any gifts to a particular lady or treat any female attendant differently?" Empress Dowager Yu was clearly skeptical of his response.

Zheng Duobao, unwilling to reveal the Emperor's private matters yet not daring to fabricate a story, finally pleaded with a face full of regret, "Please, Your Majesty, have mercy. I truly don’t know."

His face looked as if it were about to crack, wishing desperately that the Empress Dowager would just ask Xue Shu instead. That way, he wouldn't be the one left roasting in this uncomfortable position.

Empress Dowager Yu, though soft-spoken, was not one to tolerate excuses. Seeing his distress and unwillingness to speak, she didn't press further. She waved him off, dismissing him.

But the frown remained on her face, her concern still lingering. Perhaps there was something wrong with the girl, something the Emperor was hiding.

Once freed from the encounter, Zheng Duobao didn’t linger for a moment. After bowing, he bolted from the room.

That evening, after a moment’s hesitation, he reported the matter to Yin Chengyu.

To his surprise, the Emperor wasn’t angry. He thought for a moment before instructing, "Next time Mother asks again, you can give her a hint."

Zheng Duobao was shocked. He hesitated before asking again, "Are you certain I should tell her the truth?"

Yin Chengyu nodded, "She needs to know eventually."

*

At the behest of Yin Chengyu, after a few days had passed, a female official from Empress Dowager Yu's court came to subtly probe Zheng Duobao for information. Zheng Duobao, with a knowing look, gave just enough away to get the message across.

He didn't make things overly explicit, but he made it clear that the Emperor had no particular affection for any woman. However, he often kept the Eastern Bureau Overseer Commissioner, Xue Shu, by his side in the evenings. Xue Shu frequently entered the royal bedchamber and would stay there for the entire night.

This was already a highly suggestive statement, dripping with implication.

Logically speaking, as the head of the Eastern Bureau, Xue Shu was a trusted confidant of the Emperor, and it was perfectly normal for him to be close to the Emperor. But by letting this tidbit slip at this precise moment, Zheng Duobao was clearly hinting that Xue Shu was more than just a loyal "confidant."

In the palace, it was not unheard of for a ruler to take a liking to a young, handsome eunuch in a moment of curiosity or whim. Empress Dowager Yu, who had long been secluded in the inner chambers of the palace, was well aware of the hidden intrigues of the court.

However, she could never reconcile this with the image of her eldest son, a man known for his purity. Moreover, she had met Xue Shu herself, and the man was far from a beautiful young eunuch; he bore no resemblance to the type the Emperor would typically favor.

So why had the Emperor taken a particular interest in him?

With a furrowed brow and a face full of concern, Empress Dowager Yu sighed deeply.

The female official, cautious and almost hesitant, ventured, "Perhaps His Majesty simply prefers someone like him?"

These words hit a nerve, leaving the Empress Dowager even more troubled. After a brief pause, she finally spoke, her voice carrying an undeniable weight. "Summon Xue Shu to see me."