Chapter 695: The Near-Paralyzed New Dynasty

Chapter 695: The New Dynasty on the Brink of Paralysis

On a winter afternoon, still no sunlight.

The falling snow had lessened, like grains of millet, stinging slightly against the face.

Elsewhere in the capital, people swept snow from the streets, but the street outside the Demon Suppression Bureau needed none.

Over the past two days, even if there had been no road outside the Bureau, it would have been trampled into one.

On the first night alone, the Bureau’s prison held over thirteen hundred people, and that was only a small portion. More were scattered across the jails of the Capital Prefecture and the Court of Judicial Review, totaling over ten thousand in all.

Indeed, the Capital Prefecture and the Court of Judicial Review were now headless. The Prefect and the Chief Justice themselves were locked up in prison.

This rebellion in the capital had far-reaching implications, involving nearly a third of all capital officials and their related families. Which of them were directly implicated, which were unaware, and which merely skirted the edges with wavering loyalty—all required lengthy interrogation.

This revealed the trouble with aristocratic politics: when the major families of the capital were all involved, it meant most officials were entangled, leaving no one to rely on.

By now, the morning court was half empty. The remaining officials were panicked, and the capital’s political machinery was nearly paralyzed, in worse chaos than when Xia Longyuan had just died. That half the officials still remained was the result of Tang Wanzhuang’s prior investigations and her deliberate effort to avoid overreach.

Some were not implicated simply because they belonged to the Cui and Tang families, or were officials and followers of the Four Symbols Sect, or were from minor families unworthy of such a grand conspiracy. Without these people propping things up, the morning court would have been an empty nest…

With such widespread involvement, even the provinces were on the verge of paralysis. For now, Tang Wanzhuang’s policy was that aside from the passes and cities that had let people in along the way, all other regions were unrelated to this affair—no matter whose protégé or former subordinate they were, they would not be questioned. Otherwise, if pursued to the full extent, even the provinces would grind to a halt.

Even so, fear gripped everyone from top to bottom, each dreading a purge.

This was true high treason, compounded by inviting the barbarians into the capital—the harshest reckoning would not be surprising.

Huangfu Qing and the others did not feel this so viscerally; only Tang Wanzhuang knew that this was the new dynasty’s greatest political crisis—a crisis of having no one to use, from the highest officials down to the middle ranks and the provinces.

Earlier, Tang Wanzhuang had suggested to Xia Chichi that she first make good use of men like Lu Jianzhang to stabilize the court, then gradually cultivate her own political base through imperial examinations and other means—a long process.

When Zhao Changhe later proposed, based on shifting circumstances, to feign weakness and bait a trap, she did not object. If the bait failed, it meant Lu Jianzhang and his ilk could still be saved; if it succeeded, they were beyond redemption. If the whole affair could be settled in one stroke, so much the better—though it would mean far more work for her.

Not to mention other matters, just the sheer number of people involved—casual calculations put it at over ten thousand, not counting subsequent entanglements—how could the Demon Suppression Bureau possibly handle it? Naturally, they had to borrow personnel from the Four Symbols Sect, or public order would be unsustainable.

At today’s morning court, Tang Wanzhuang was granted special permission to leave early to get to work. She merely reported the situation and then rushed off. During that time, she heard the Emperor mention finding sweet potatoes, wrote a letter to her nephew, and then worked straight through until afternoon without eating.

“Miss, please eat something first.”

“Mm, just leave it there. I’ll eat in a moment.”

“You said that half an hour ago. The noodles are already clumped! I cooked this bowl!” Baoqin stood by, holding a bowl of noodles, stamping her foot in frustration: “You just recovered from consumption, and now you want to ruin your stomach again, don’t you?”

Tang Wanzhuang smiled: “Alright, alright, just leave it. I really will eat, okay?”

Baoqin finally burst out: “I think you’re deliberately making yourself look sickly to seduce men!”

Tang Wanzhuang: “?”

The little maid was coiled into a ball, then flung out the door with a whoosh, still clutching the bowl of noodles.

Before the maid hit the ground, a burly figure appeared before her. A large hand reached out and caught her midair.

Baoqin sat cross-legged in the air, glaring at him angrily.

Zhao Changhe found it adorable. He rubbed her head, set her down, and took the noodles: “Let me handle it. Go rest.”

Baoqin fumed: “She’s working harder for your new dynasty than ever before. And you—you came last night, didn’t you? Just busy defiling the palace… mmmph…”

Zhao Changhe clamped his hand over her mouth, sweating profusely as he looked around.

The Demon Suppression Bureau staff nearby lowered their heads and hurried past, pretending not to hear.

Zhao Changhe regretted not letting her fly off into the distance. Clearly, Vermilion Bird’s method with Baoqin was the best: first silence the main damage dealer, and the rest would be easy.

Now, seeing the crowd around, Baoqin pursed her lips and dared say no more. Zhao Changhe, too embarrassed to linger, flushed and carried the noodles straight into the Chief’s Hall of the Demon Suppression Bureau.

Tang Wanzhuang looked up from her paperwork, a knowing smile on her face—she had clearly heard the commotion outside.

Zhao Changhe stiffened his expression, forcing a gentle demeanor as he placed the noodles before her: “Throwing Baoqin out is one thing, but throwing the noodles away too? Everyone’s short on food these days.”

What kind of talk was that? Tang Wanzhuang couldn’t help but laugh: “If Baoqin heard that, she’d come in and bite you to death.”

Zhao Changhe sighed: “I didn’t expect you’d be even busier under the new dynasty.”

Tang Wanzhuang said: “I didn’t have as much to do before… but there were too few people who could work well together. Doing it all alone is exhausting and frustrating—watching so many things happen and being powerless. Now the Empress is also dedicated, which gives me more drive and hope… The current workload is just short-term. If we can get through it, things will be much easier afterward.”

Zhao Changhe asked: “Is there anything I can help with?”

“If the sweet potatoes you proposed to the Empress really work, that would be an enormous help… And your proposal for the Three Jin region is indeed a good idea for saving troops and grain, though I doubt that woman can pull it off…”

“…You doubt Vermilion Bird’s skills in the underworld?”

“Let’s just say, under my suppression, the Four Symbols Sect hasn’t accomplished much openly over the years—they’ve had to go underground… Especially the so-called Vermilion Bird Venerable; she hasn’t achieved many successes. The few she did, you happened to be involved, so your memory has gilded them.”

Zhao Changhe almost laughed. These two women were truly interesting…

He didn’t pursue that. He picked up the chopsticks, twirled a strand of noodles, blew on it, and held it to Tang Wanzhuang’s lips: “Ah~”

Tang Wanzhuang quickly glanced at the doorway. The usually bustling hall was now eerily silent—everyone had tactfully vanished.

In fact, the very emptiness was embarrassing; who knew what they were imagining… A blush crept up Tang Wanzhuang’s cheeks, but she quickly leaned forward and sucked the noodles off the chopsticks with a “slurp.”

Her husband feeding her, huh…

Zhao Changhe said nothing more, just fed her mouthful by mouthful. Tang Wanzhuang didn’t insist on feeding herself; she let him slowly feed her until the bowl was empty.

Baoqin peeked her head in, feeling that her noodles inexplicably reeked of something rotten. She hadn’t added stinky tofu…

Anyway, at least the miss had eaten properly. It seemed the miss hadn’t grown up—she needed to be fed. Next time, Baoqin would try feeding her too.

After the noodles were finally finished—what would have taken a few minutes normally stretched into an incense stick’s time—Tang Wanzhuang leaned contentedly into the man’s arms and murmured, “That was nice.”

Baoqin thought the miss was hopeless. The man came back, first defiled the palace, and only came to find her in the late afternoon. Just a few mouthfuls of noodles, and she said “nice”—and she hadn’t even thanked Baoqin for cooking them.

What a foolish woman, calling herself the wise Chief.

“Bang!” Tang Wanzhuang suddenly waved her hand, and the door slammed shut. Baoqin banged her head against it, tears welling up as she crouched down.

Zhao Changhe chuckled: “Still bullying Baoqin.”

“What, feeling sorry for her because you didn’t get a taste?”

“…Nonsense. I only feel sorry for you.”

Baoqin felt her life was bleak.

Tang Wanzhuang smiled too: “You… your mouth can’t be trusted now. Tell me, what did you come to see me about?”

Zhao Changhe said: “Can’t I just come to keep you company?”

“See, that’s why your mouth can’t be trusted now.” Tang Wanzhuang said leisurely: “You don’t have the time or the inclination to seek anyone out just for romance—whether it’s me, the Empress, or the Dowager.”

Zhao Changhe fell silent.

Tang Wanzhuang continued: “But that’s a good thing. I wouldn’t want you to come back just to ask when I’ll fulfill the promise I made before you left last time.”

Zhao Changhe paused, his expression turning strange.

He had actually forgotten what promise Tang Wanzhuang had made before he left last time. Now reminded, he recalled: she had said that if he returned safely, she would let him watch her and Huangfu Qing wrestle in bed… He had actually forgotten that!

Even worse, given the current situation and Tang Wanzhuang’s praise that “this is a good thing,” he could no longer bring himself to demand she fulfill it…

Seeing Zhao Changhe’s face of regret, Tang Wanzhuang burst out laughing: “Alright, alright. There will be your chance later. I have no time for that now. There’s a mountain of work. If you want to help, I really do have something for you.”

Zhao Changhe swallowed his pride: “Tell me, who needs killing?”

“It’s precisely because too many need killing. Under a millennium of aristocratic politics, the talent pool outside those families is far too shallow. The imperial examinations we planned haven’t been implemented yet… and even if they were, it would take time to cultivate people.” Tang Wanzhuang said seriously: “We can’t deal with everyone. Some must be reinstated. And that good deed—you will do it.”