Chapter 766: Half for the Country, Half for the Monarch

Chapter 766: Half for the Realm, Half for You

Zhao Changhe knew nothing of firearms and artillery, having read few historical time-travel tales, so he could offer no meaningful improvements. But that was fine—what came later was for later; for now, the cannon’s level sufficed. Once the world grasped its advantages, it would naturally evolve further, provided the emperor saw it that way, and Chi Chi clearly had no issue there.

For now, they were still crude cannons; greater development might require sweeping industrial changes to achieve... The Great Han’s current productivity clearly fell short. Even if it sufficed, who knew whether, in a world where blades could gain spirits, it might twist into a different tech tree?

Zhao Changhe dared not be certain, nor did he wish to steer things with his half-baked knowledge—that might lead astray. Better to let it develop on its own.

So he merely confirmed the production schedule, then strolled away contentedly with Chi Chi and Wan Zhuang.

“I never imagined... when I was overseas, it was just a suggestion. I didn’t expect progress in a few years, let alone that it would bear fruit so soon.” Walking back toward the city, Zhao Changhe sighed with emotion.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Xia Chi Chi said with a smile. “Besides, someone took your orders especially to heart—otherwise, it wouldn’t have come so quickly.”

Tang Wanzhuang shot her a glance, a silent plea of “please stop.”

Xia Chi Chi remained unmoved, still grinning. “This cost a fortune. Back then, we were so broke we could barely pay official salaries, yet we still allocated funds for this. The court ministers opposed it fiercely... The Minister of Revenue, originally considered one of your faction, surprisingly stood against you in court. He was acting out of public duty, so you couldn’t even lose your temper. At that moment, it felt like fighting the whole world—your face flushed red, and you looked quite lovely...”

Zhao Changhe turned to look at Tang Wanzhuang, who blushed and avoided his gaze.

Xia Chi Chi clasped her hands behind her back, musing, “I know it was because it was the command of the ‘Emperor’ in your heart—you had to see it through. Half your life for the nation, half for him—tsk, so touching.”

Tang Wanzhuang couldn’t bear it and snapped, “Who said that? It was because I truly believed it was meaningful! Besides, the decision was yours!”

“Yes, when we join forces, nothing can stand in our way.” Xia Chi Chi laughed. “Many memorials you never saw were quite interesting. You know, after Lu Jianzhang was executed, your authority had long surpassed that of the Demon Suppression Bureau’s chief—you were already acting as chancellor. Quite a few people submitted petitions to appoint you as chancellor. But later, they gradually stopped—not because they objected to you, but because our relationship was too close, making it unsuitable for you to hold that office, lest it undermine checks on imperial power.”

Tang Wanzhuang chuckled despite herself. “They really think I’m in cahoots with you?”

“Yes, now that our goals align, we seem to be allies. But in truth, you probably want to tear me apart.”

“...” Tang Wanzhuang gazed into the distance, silent.

Xia Chi Chi smiled slyly. “How about this: at tomorrow’s morning court, first, appoint the Venerable as commander-in-chief; second, appoint you as chancellor.”

Zhao Changhe couldn’t help interjecting, “Why not appoint her chancellor back when others first proposed it?”

The title of chief wasn’t enough; seeing Wan Zhuang in her earlier state, coughing while draped in a robe, calling her chancellor would be most fitting.

This time, Tang Wanzhuang explained for Xia Chi Chi: “The Demon Suppression Bureau needs a reliable successor. If I become chancellor, I could temporarily hold both posts, but not long-term.”

“So you’ve found someone now?”

“Actually, I favor Qin Dingjiang. Even though he once ambushed me, he was following imperial orders and later felt ashamed. The Bureau should answer only to the emperor—he did nothing wrong. Of course, I can’t be sure whether he acted solely out of loyalty or also personal ambition, so I’ve held off and observed.” Tang Wanzhuang said, “If you think he’s unsuitable, we could appoint Wu Weiyang. You once promised him and others a future—I’ve already promoted them to deputies. But their cultivation isn’t as advanced as Dingjiang’s, and they’re several years younger. It’s better to let them serve as deputies first, then take over later.”

Zhao Changhe nodded. “You know them best. Decide as you see fit.”

Xia Chi Chi snorted, muttering, “Independent kingdom!”

Tang Wanzhuang pretended not to hear.

The Demon Suppression Bureau was her life’s work—she’d helped establish it as a mere girl, like her own child. It was fair to call it her personal fief. Even after stepping down, at least half its members would still recognize only her. She’d been selfless enough to choose a successor who “obeys the emperor,” Qin Dingjiang. Had she any selfishness, she’d have picked a sycophant.

But then again, now Qin Dingjiang was deeply indebted to her—perhaps even more sycophantic than others...

Xia Chi Chi fumed, “Tell me, what kind of nonsense is this? Such an independent-minded minister, and I’m voluntarily proposing to make her chancellor! If she becomes chancellor, she’ll be a treacherous one!”

Tang Wanzhuang still gazed into the distance, silent. If “treacherous” meant adultery with your man, then perhaps it fit.

Blind as she was, she felt that if the word were used as a verb, the treacherous one was Zhao Changhe.

Zhao Changhe, however, didn’t dwell on such frivolous thoughts. Instead, he tried to mediate: “Wan Zhuang already does the work of a chancellor. It’s high time she got the promotion. Besides, both you and she have been burdened by state affairs, lagging in cultivation. I need to think of ways to help her improve.”

Xia Chi Chi glanced at him sidelong. “And how will you help? Through that old trick?”

Zhao Changhe shook his head. “No, dual cultivation can’t directly break through to the Imperial realm—if it were that easy, it would be trivial. Even your recent breakthrough to the third secret vault was because you were already one step away. You’ve yet to digest the Azure Dragon insights and the Eastern Pole Dao Fruit you obtained earlier—I merely used my Azure Dragon principles to activate their effects. Besides, you have another advantage: enlightenment is one thing, cultivation accumulation another. Thanks to dragon qi and faith, you’ve converted that power into cultivation, growing naturally even without deliberate effort. Wan Zhuang lacks that, so I need to find a way.”

“Fine.” Xia Chi Chi didn’t press further. “Tonight’s banquet is for all officials—not like the family meal at noon. I must preside, and your Wan Zhuang has always begged off sick, so the officials are used to it. It’s even more normal for you to skip it. If you don’t want the socializing, go back and rest. Study how to be a treacherous chancellor.”

Neither spoke. Xia Chi Chi glared at them both, then flew back to the palace.

A man and a woman stood outside the city gate, watching the emperor vault over the wall. Night had fallen, and a breeze swept in, making the atmosphere suddenly awkward.

Tang Wanzhuang stiffened her neck, finally muttering, “Tomorrow I’ll advise her—an emperor, not some former rogue from the jianghu, should have a proper retinue and guards. This way, it’s neither dignified nor safe.”

We were your retinue and guards—why aren’t we now? Don’t you know? Zhao Changhe found it both amusing and exasperating. Suddenly, he reached out and took her hand. Tang Wanzhuang instinctively tensed, then slowly relaxed.

In truth, aside from that night by the hot spring when he’d claimed her, nearly three months had passed without another intimate moment—only a single embrace and kiss in the Demon Suppression Bureau. Every meeting had been about state affairs. Forget moonlit strolls or countryside walks.

Zhao Changhe said softly, “Shall we take a walk?”

Tang Wanzhuang lowered her head. “When do we have time for idle wandering?”

Without waiting for her consent, he pulled her toward the city. “Come on, it’s New Year’s Day. Even if you treat yourself like a beast of burden, you deserve a holiday. I tell you, anyone working overtime these days should get extra bonuses, or we’ll be cursed behind our backs.”

Tang Wanzhuang stumbled as he dragged her along, exasperated. “The market’s closed today—nothing to see.”

“Oh?” Zhao Changhe grinned at her. “So you mean, we should wander the wilds?”

Tang Wanzhuang turned her head away. “I mean, no wandering at all.”

“Then straight to the room, to do what we love?”

Tang Wanzhuang stamped her foot. “What kind of mind do you have!”

Zhao Changhe laughed, pulling her along the city wall toward the distant villages and fields.

Tang Wanzhuang quieted down, lowering her head as she walked slowly with him.

Her hands had always been soft and cool. He’d once thought it was due to illness, but now that she was well, they were still cool and soft. No other reason—it was simply her icy skin and jade bones, a gift of nature.

Zhao Changhe held her gently, yet felt none of the usual romantic stirrings—only a tranquil peace. They walked slowly, saying nothing. Tang Wanzhuang’s racing heart gradually calmed, and a smile crept onto her lips.

No matter how often she said she’d be his concubine, she never wanted to be treated as a mere vessel for his desires. Fortunately, he had never been that kind of man, and now he was even better. In the past, he’d been rough and insensitive, unable to truly feel others’ emotions. But now, beneath his iron will, there was tenderness—he understood what she wanted.

What Tang Wanzhuang wanted was merely this stolen half-day of leisure, to stroll hand in hand with her beloved under the clear breeze and bright moon, to drift on a lake, to play a song, to read a page of *The Western Chamber*.

And so for the rest of her life.

All her toil was so that everyone in the world could have the same.