Meng Qi: Might as well roast chestnuts.
Until they had left the Eastern Palace, Mo Li remained lost in thought, unable to let go for a long time.
He used to think that the suffering of the people was caused by a foolish ruler or greedy officials. After reading history books and listening to Elder Qin’s detailed explanation of the world’s situation, he realized the sorrows of the world had many causes. While many indeed stemmed from illness, healing the sick could save individuals but not the world.
Mo Li’s life in Zhushan County was too peaceful, and its people and their affairs were very simple, leading him to the illusion that clear governance by officials meant the people could live and work in peace and contentment.
“Did the crown prince want you to stay to assist the Sixth Prince?” Mo Li suddenly asked.
Meng Qi, who regretted missing the chance to acquire the jade plaque with the natural koi pattern, was startled by the question and then shook his head, saying, “Actually, the Qi dynasty’s crown prince knows that the Sixth Prince is incapable of undertaking the great responsibilities he envisions. He talked to me about those things because he saw from the documents that ‘Master Meng,’ like the other founding heroes of the Chu dynasty, was concerned with the world and had governance strategies. What do you think ‘Master Meng’ would feel about Emperor Chu slaughtering his ministers?”
Mo Li was about to speak when Meng Qi raised his hand to stop him, adding, “Think like an ordinary person, not as if we were the Dragon Vein.”
“If being a minister can’t fulfill one’s ambitions, one might as well become the emperor oneself,” Mo Li quickly replied.
“There’s more to it than that,”
Meng Qi said, opening the simplified map of the imperial palace without looking up.
Mo Li pondered for a moment and then tentatively asked, “You’re also facing a huge problem… a successor?”
Mortals must die, whether Meng Qi assists a prince or claims the throne himself. Now over eighty years old, the “former dynasty’s Imperial Teacher” doesn’t have much time left. He had been disheartened before, but now that there’s a chance to return to the center of power, wouldn’t he want to find a suitable “student” to inherit or fulfill his ambitions?
“The crown prince gave me an opportunity and also passed the problem to me,” Meng Qi wasn’t annoyed by the Qi dynasty’s crown prince’s calculation. Firstly, because the crown prince was about to die, and secondly, because it was an open strategy.
A little thought made it clear.
If Meng Qi wasn’t the Dragon Vein of Taijing and truly a remnant official of the Chu dynasty, having devoted his life to nothing, would he be content?
“He doesn’t care who sits on the throne or what the emperor’s surname is. He only hopes for a peaceful and uneventful transition of power, without causing any major chaos. In the broader sense, it’s because he cares for the people and cannot bear to see the world in chaos; in the narrower sense, it’s so that his brothers do not die unnatural deaths, and that his consorts, those who served him loyally, and the eunuchs and maids of the Eastern Palace can all survive,”
Meng Qi explained the Qi dynasty’s crown prince’s thoughts to Mo Li.
After a moment of silence, Mo Li let out a long sigh.
“He’s desperately seeking help,” Mo Li shook his head.
Like Meng Qi, he felt no anger upon knowing the truth.
Being in the palace, surrounded by power struggles, if the crown prince was willing to entrust his life and the realm to someone upon just one meeting, that would be problematic.
As the crown prince said, once he died, the token would become useless. Those like the commander of the imperial guards and ministers who sought favor with the crown prince’s status would wish to sever all ties.
The so-called realm had to be taken by oneself, and the token had to be used before the crown prince’s death.
Not to mention, even if successful, one would have to painstakingly fabricate an identity to firmly hold power.
Meng Qi’s own identity couldn’t be used. Claiming to be the Imperial Teacher of the Chu dynasty wouldn’t work, as his appearance and age didn’t match. To use the Imperial Teacher’s identity, he would first need to age—
Meng Qi inadvertently looked at Mo Li and couldn’t help but laugh.
If the physician pretended to be a descendant of the Chu dynasty’s Crown Prince Zhaohua, coupled with the former dynasty’s Imperial Teacher, holding the imperial jade seal, killing Lu Zhang, and with the help of the Qi dynasty’s crown prince seizing control of the military and the capital, this plot of rebellion and dynastic change might actually succeed.
Meng Qi didn’t share this thought with Mo Li.
“As a physician, you should know, that it’s better to seek help desperately than to hide one’s illness and refuse treatment. Whatever the crown prince hoped for us to do, whatever his calculations, his heart always held the realm, and he didn’t care who sat on the throne. This is already more enlightened than most people. How many care about whether their family or country falls into ruin after their death? Some don’t even care while they’re alive.”
The crown prince’s persuasion failed, not because Meng Qi was the Dragon Vein, but because Meng Qi had changed; his thoughts while serving as the Imperial Teacher in the Chu dynasty were no longer the same.
And the crown prince knew nothing about this, so how could he not fail?
The crown prince didn’t realize Meng Qi had lost faith in the idea of assisting a sovereign to create a golden age from the top down.
—Changing dynasties was futile. As long as the officials remained the same, and the people still depended on the land for their livelihood, the world would never change.
Even becoming the emperor wouldn’t make a difference; no one could implement governance strategies at will and receive unanimous support from all levels of government, not even the emperor himself.
The emperor’s power didn’t reach the countryside. In places like Zhushan County, people could live and work in peace and contentment without imperial commands, while other areas could suffer due to the distance from the emperor, turning well-intended policies into grievances among the populace. Meng Qi had seen too much of this.
“The crown prince is still too young, unlike me, who has already seen through the flaws,” Meng Qi sighed, expressing his melancholy. “What the world needs is not just a wise ruler or a group of virtuous ministers. Unless from the high-ranking officials to the minor ones, even the tax collectors abide by benevolence, righteousness, integrity, and shame, recognizing the greater good over minor benefits, only then can we realize what we envision.”
“Let’s go find Ancestor Qingwu instead,” Mo Li suggested.
Meng Qi glanced around the palace walls and led Mo Li toward the southern part of the imperial city.
Meng Qi was familiar with the palace’s layout, though he did not know how the use of various palaces had changed after the dynastic transition. For example, Chunhua Palace, which originally served as a place for princes and royal family members to study and live, was now vacant.
Emperor Lu Zhang did not have many consorts, or to be precise, there were few high-ranking consorts with titles and imperial edicts.
Those of lower status naturally did not require living in a palace alone, so the inner palace was not fully occupied. Several more secluded palaces were directly repurposed for other uses, including a library and a temple for praying to the heavens.
When they encountered patrolling imperial guards, Meng Qi stopped, found a hidden corner, and showed Mo Li the map.
“There’s a peculiar place here.”
“Wanxiang Pavilion,” Mo Li read the nearby characters aloud. “For worshipping the heavens and observing the stars?”
Meng Qi nodded, “The Imperial Astronomical Observatory has a dedicated observatory outside the city. It’s not unusual to have a similar place in the palace. This pavilion was originally built by an emperor of the Chen dynasty who deeply believed in the Taoist quest for immortality, housing some Taoist priests in the palace for alchemy. During the Chu dynasty, it was repurposed for other uses, and I didn’t expect Lu Zhang to change it back.”
“Does Lu Zhang not believe in these practices?” Mo Li thought of the incident during this year’s Lantern Festival when a comet appeared, and the emperor was furious.
If there were Taoist priests in the palace and Lu Zhang placed great importance on them, then not just the Imperial Astronomical Observatory would have been in trouble, but also those Taoist priests who failed to “predict” the ominous sign.
“While Taoist priests have many sects, believe in different patriarchs, and employ various methods, they still maintain contact with each other. If Lu Zhang relied heavily on Taoist priests, Ancestor Qingwu wouldn’t need to go through the trouble of supporting a prince to ascend to the throne; directly manipulating Lu Zhang would be easier. Just by claiming there was lingering fortune from the Chu dynasty in some place, he could bewitch the court into launching labor-intensive projects like digging rivers and carving out mountains.”
“Then Wanxiang Pavilion must serve another purpose,” Mo Li quickly grasped Meng Qi’s implication.
Meng Qi slightly nodded and continued, pointing at the map, “Geographically, Wanxiang Pavilion is located in the southeastern corner of the imperial palace, not far from Wanhe Hall. The pavilion is surrounded by open space and is built high. Behind the pavilion is Qingyun Gate leading to the outer city, with Dingyuan and Anping canals nearby. By opening the palace’s sluice gates, one could directly enter the Wei River… Doctor, what does this place seem like to you?”
“A good place to escape.”
After a moment of contemplation, Mo Li added, “Especially if there’s an underground passage, it would be even more suitable.”
Meng Qi folded the map, confidently stating, “Lu Zhang is very likely hiding there. There’s an eighty percent chance the underground passage connects to Wanhe Hall. The imperial guards’ patrols include Wanxiang Pavilion. Should any disturbance arise in Wanhe Hall, the imperial guards wouldn’t be able to stop Ancestor Qingwu, and Lu Zhang would escape. People have a habit of learning from the past; whatever caused their downfall, they pay special attention to and guard against it, sometimes to an exaggerated extent.”
Learning from the experience of military governors causing the country to fragment, the new dynasty desperately weakened the military’s power, only to be later conquered by nomadic tribes due to the weakened military.
Those who executed meritorious officials causing alienation between the ruler and his subjects naturally went to great lengths to win people’s hearts, but this was just the behavior Lu Zhang showed publicly; there were other matters not meant for outsiders.
Anyone who plots to usurp the throne might, from the moment they successfully sit on the dragon throne, constantly imagine how they would counter if they were besieged, how to capture the rebels, and how to escape when the situation becomes hopeless…
“…It might be a turtle shell, even buried with explosives.”
Mo Li heard Meng Qi mutter this.
Indeed, there were many imperial guards ahead, and the palace walls were equipped with crossbows.
“What do we do now?”
“Wait,” Meng Qi said seriously. “Aren’t we just missing Ancestor Qingwu to smash this turtle shell?”
Meng Qi regretfully patted his pocket, finding it empty of any snacks.
At a time like this, if there were a bag of sugar-roasted chestnuts, warm and ready to peel, sharing them with the doctor would at least help pass the time.
“Doctor, your spot isn’t safe. People in the nearby palaces standing at high points can see you,” Meng Qi openly signaled for Mo Li to come closer.
The blind spot was only so large, barely enough for one adult man to stand. If it were two people, they would probably have to—
Mo Li raised an eyebrow, “You’re going to shrink so I can hold you?”
Meng Qi: “…”
“I meant as a sand rat,” Mo Li added leisurely.
Who would want to carry a chubby child to beat up the emperor!
Meng Qi: Might as well roast chestnuts.
Until they had left the Eastern Palace, Mo Li remained lost in thought, unable to let go for a long time.
He used to think that the suffering of the people was caused by a foolish ruler or greedy officials. After reading history books and listening to Elder Qin’s detailed explanation of the world’s situation, he realized the sorrows of the world had many causes. While many indeed stemmed from illness, healing the sick could save individuals but not the world.
Mo Li’s life in Zhushan County was too peaceful, and its people and their affairs were very simple, leading him to the illusion that clear governance by officials meant the people could live and work in peace and contentment.
“Did the crown prince want you to stay to assist the Sixth Prince?” Mo Li suddenly asked.
Meng Qi, who regretted missing the chance to acquire the jade plaque with the natural koi pattern, was startled by the question and then shook his head, saying, “Actually, the Qi dynasty’s crown prince knows that the Sixth Prince is incapable of undertaking the great responsibilities he envisions. He talked to me about those things because he saw from the documents that ‘Master Meng,’ like the other founding heroes of the Chu dynasty, was concerned with the world and had governance strategies. What do you think ‘Master Meng’ would feel about Emperor Chu slaughtering his ministers?”
Mo Li was about to speak when Meng Qi raised his hand to stop him, adding, “Think like an ordinary person, not as if we were the Dragon Vein.”
“If being a minister can’t fulfill one’s ambitions, one might as well become the emperor oneself,” Mo Li quickly replied.
“There’s more to it than that,”
Meng Qi said, opening the simplified map of the imperial palace without looking up.
Mo Li pondered for a moment and then tentatively asked, “You’re also facing a huge problem… a successor?”
Mortals must die, whether Meng Qi assists a prince or claims the throne himself. Now over eighty years old, the “former dynasty’s Imperial Teacher” doesn’t have much time left. He had been disheartened before, but now that there’s a chance to return to the center of power, wouldn’t he want to find a suitable “student” to inherit or fulfill his ambitions?
“The crown prince gave me an opportunity and also passed the problem to me,” Meng Qi wasn’t annoyed by the Qi dynasty’s crown prince’s calculation. Firstly, because the crown prince was about to die, and secondly, because it was an open strategy.
A little thought made it clear.
If Meng Qi wasn’t the Dragon Vein of Taijing and truly a remnant official of the Chu dynasty, having devoted his life to nothing, would he be content?
“He doesn’t care who sits on the throne or what the emperor’s surname is. He only hopes for a peaceful and uneventful transition of power, without causing any major chaos. In the broader sense, it’s because he cares for the people and cannot bear to see the world in chaos; in the narrower sense, it’s so that his brothers do not die unnatural deaths, and that his consorts, those who served him loyally, and the eunuchs and maids of the Eastern Palace can all survive,”
Meng Qi explained the Qi dynasty’s crown prince’s thoughts to Mo Li.
After a moment of silence, Mo Li let out a long sigh.
“He’s desperately seeking help,” Mo Li shook his head.
Like Meng Qi, he felt no anger upon knowing the truth.
Being in the palace, surrounded by power struggles, if the crown prince was willing to entrust his life and the realm to someone upon just one meeting, that would be problematic.
As the crown prince said, once he died, the token would become useless. Those like the commander of the imperial guards and ministers who sought favor with the crown prince’s status would wish to sever all ties.
The so-called realm had to be taken by oneself, and the token had to be used before the crown prince’s death.
Not to mention, even if successful, one would have to painstakingly fabricate an identity to firmly hold power.
Meng Qi’s own identity couldn’t be used. Claiming to be the Imperial Teacher of the Chu dynasty wouldn’t work, as his appearance and age didn’t match. To use the Imperial Teacher’s identity, he would first need to age—
Meng Qi inadvertently looked at Mo Li and couldn’t help but laugh.
If the physician pretended to be a descendant of the Chu dynasty’s Crown Prince Zhaohua, coupled with the former dynasty’s Imperial Teacher, holding the imperial jade seal, killing Lu Zhang, and with the help of the Qi dynasty’s crown prince seizing control of the military and the capital, this plot of rebellion and dynastic change might actually succeed.
Meng Qi didn’t share this thought with Mo Li.
“As a physician, you should know, that it’s better to seek help desperately than to hide one’s illness and refuse treatment. Whatever the crown prince hoped for us to do, whatever his calculations, his heart always held the realm, and he didn’t care who sat on the throne. This is already more enlightened than most people. How many care about whether their family or country falls into ruin after their death? Some don’t even care while they’re alive.”
The crown prince’s persuasion failed, not because Meng Qi was the Dragon Vein, but because Meng Qi had changed; his thoughts while serving as the Imperial Teacher in the Chu dynasty were no longer the same.
And the crown prince knew nothing about this, so how could he not fail?
The crown prince didn’t realize Meng Qi had lost faith in the idea of assisting a sovereign to create a golden age from the top down.
—Changing dynasties was futile. As long as the officials remained the same, and the people still depended on the land for their livelihood, the world would never change.
Even becoming the emperor wouldn’t make a difference; no one could implement governance strategies at will and receive unanimous support from all levels of government, not even the emperor himself.
The emperor’s power didn’t reach the countryside. In places like Zhushan County, people could live and work in peace and contentment without imperial commands, while other areas could suffer due to the distance from the emperor, turning well-intended policies into grievances among the populace. Meng Qi had seen too much of this.
“The crown prince is still too young, unlike me, who has already seen through the flaws,” Meng Qi sighed, expressing his melancholy. “What the world needs is not just a wise ruler or a group of virtuous ministers. Unless from the high-ranking officials to the minor ones, even the tax collectors abide by benevolence, righteousness, integrity, and shame, recognizing the greater good over minor benefits, only then can we realize what we envision.”
“Let’s go find Ancestor Qingwu instead,” Mo Li suggested.
Meng Qi glanced around the palace walls and led Mo Li toward the southern part of the imperial city.
Meng Qi was familiar with the palace’s layout, though he did not know how the use of various palaces had changed after the dynastic transition. For example, Chunhua Palace, which originally served as a place for princes and royal family members to study and live, was now vacant.
Emperor Lu Zhang did not have many consorts, or to be precise, there were few high-ranking consorts with titles and imperial edicts.
Those of lower status naturally did not require living in a palace alone, so the inner palace was not fully occupied. Several more secluded palaces were directly repurposed for other uses, including a library and a temple for praying to the heavens.
When they encountered patrolling imperial guards, Meng Qi stopped, found a hidden corner, and showed Mo Li the map.
“There’s a peculiar place here.”
“Wanxiang Pavilion,” Mo Li read the nearby characters aloud. “For worshipping the heavens and observing the stars?”
Meng Qi nodded, “The Imperial Astronomical Observatory has a dedicated observatory outside the city. It’s not unusual to have a similar place in the palace. This pavilion was originally built by an emperor of the Chen dynasty who deeply believed in the Taoist quest for immortality, housing some Taoist priests in the palace for alchemy. During the Chu dynasty, it was repurposed for other uses, and I didn’t expect Lu Zhang to change it back.”
“Does Lu Zhang not believe in these practices?” Mo Li thought of the incident during this year’s Lantern Festival when a comet appeared, and the emperor was furious.
If there were Taoist priests in the palace and Lu Zhang placed great importance on them, then not just the Imperial Astronomical Observatory would have been in trouble, but also those Taoist priests who failed to “predict” the ominous sign.
“While Taoist priests have many sects, believe in different patriarchs, and employ various methods, they still maintain contact with each other. If Lu Zhang relied heavily on Taoist priests, Ancestor Qingwu wouldn’t need to go through the trouble of supporting a prince to ascend to the throne; directly manipulating Lu Zhang would be easier. Just by claiming there was lingering fortune from the Chu dynasty in some place, he could bewitch the court into launching labor-intensive projects like digging rivers and carving out mountains.”
“Then Wanxiang Pavilion must serve another purpose,” Mo Li quickly grasped Meng Qi’s implication.
Meng Qi slightly nodded and continued, pointing at the map, “Geographically, Wanxiang Pavilion is located in the southeastern corner of the imperial palace, not far from Wanhe Hall. The pavilion is surrounded by open space and is built high. Behind the pavilion is Qingyun Gate leading to the outer city, with Dingyuan and Anping canals nearby. By opening the palace’s sluice gates, one could directly enter the Wei River… Doctor, what does this place seem like to you?”
“A good place to escape.”
After a moment of contemplation, Mo Li added, “Especially if there’s an underground passage, it would be even more suitable.”
Meng Qi folded the map, confidently stating, “Lu Zhang is very likely hiding there. There’s an eighty percent chance the underground passage connects to Wanhe Hall. The imperial guards’ patrols include Wanxiang Pavilion. Should any disturbance arise in Wanhe Hall, the imperial guards wouldn’t be able to stop Ancestor Qingwu, and Lu Zhang would escape. People have a habit of learning from the past; whatever caused their downfall, they pay special attention to and guard against it, sometimes to an exaggerated extent.”
Learning from the experience of military governors causing the country to fragment, the new dynasty desperately weakened the military’s power, only to be later conquered by nomadic tribes due to the weakened military.
Those who executed meritorious officials causing alienation between the ruler and his subjects naturally went to great lengths to win people’s hearts, but this was just the behavior Lu Zhang showed publicly; there were other matters not meant for outsiders.
Anyone who plots to usurp the throne might, from the moment they successfully sit on the dragon throne, constantly imagine how they would counter if they were besieged, how to capture the rebels, and how to escape when the situation becomes hopeless…
“…It might be a turtle shell, even buried with explosives.”
Mo Li heard Meng Qi mutter this.
Indeed, there were many imperial guards ahead, and the palace walls were equipped with crossbows.
“What do we do now?”
“Wait,” Meng Qi said seriously. “Aren’t we just missing Ancestor Qingwu to smash this turtle shell?”
Meng Qi regretfully patted his pocket, finding it empty of any snacks.
At a time like this, if there were a bag of sugar-roasted chestnuts, warm and ready to peel, sharing them with the doctor would at least help pass the time.
“Doctor, your spot isn’t safe. People in the nearby palaces standing at high points can see you,” Meng Qi openly signaled for Mo Li to come closer.
The blind spot was only so large, barely enough for one adult man to stand. If it were two people, they would probably have to—
Mo Li raised an eyebrow, “You’re going to shrink so I can hold you?”
Meng Qi: “…”
“I meant as a sand rat,” Mo Li added leisurely.
Who would want to carry a chubby child to beat up the emperor!
