Chapter 565: The Baffling Li Mo

“Why, my lord, whatever has happened to the world? Who could have possibly offended our esteemed Master Yan?”

From beneath the crimson silk quilt, a slender, jade-white arm slipped out and hooked itself around the hand of Yan Nian, the steward of the Yan household. With a series of coquettish giggles, the woman pulled the dark-faced steward onto the soft couch. In one fluid motion, she turned over and straddled him, leaning down so that a dazzling expanse of creamy skin was revealed before his eyes.

Her naked, supple body pressed against his. One of her tiny bound feet casually brushed the wardrobe standing beside the couch. The corner of a blue-green robe protruding from the wardrobe seemed to come alive for an instant, silently retreating into the darkness like the tail of a snake. A moment later, it had vanished completely, leaving no trace behind.

“You shameless little temptress…” Yan Nian growled.

Reaching out with a rough hand, he gave the soft flesh of his third concubine a firm squeeze. The frustration that had been festering inside him all day immediately eased by several degrees.

“My lord,” the concubine purred, pressing herself against him and leaning close to his ear. Her crimson lips parted slightly as she breathed warm, fragrant air against his skin. “If you’re angry, then take it all out on this servant. Let me bear it for you…”

There was a certain alluring energy about her, something impossible to describe with mere words.

“I’m only afraid you won’t be able to endure it.”

The gloom clouding Yan Nian’s mood had already vanished without a trace. Letting out a confident laugh, he rolled over and pinned her beneath him like a tiger descending from the mountains in pursuit of prey.

One, two, three, four…

The clouds churned, the rain poured, and a fierce thunderstorm swept through the room.

By the time the water clock in the chamber released its eighth measured drop, Yan Nian had already collapsed onto his back, breathing heavily as he rolled off his concubine. Looking thoroughly satisfied with himself, he stroked her body while listening to her sweet complaints about how formidable her lord was and how she simply could not withstand him any longer.

This concubine was the third woman he had taken into his household.

She had originally been a gift from a local official in Suzhou.

The official had been desperate for promotion and had sent countless presents to the Yan residence in hopes of advancing his career. Yet despite all his efforts, nothing had come of it. Eventually, through intermediaries, he sought out Yan Nian’s assistance and begged for guidance.

Under Yan Nian’s advice, the official presented ten famous Suzhou beauties to the Yan family.

Only then did his career begin to move forward.

Sometimes, a face as delicate as a pear blossom kissed by spring rain could accomplish far more than mountains of gold and silver. A single enchanting smile from a beautiful woman could transform even the most difficult problem into a trivial matter.

To express his gratitude, the official had gifted one of those Suzhou beauties directly to Yan Nian.

Yan Nian promptly accepted her as his third concubine.

Of all the women in his household, she was now his favorite.

She knew how to read situations, understood how to care for him, anticipated his needs before he voiced them, and possessed countless talents that made her impossible not to cherish.

How could a man not spoil such a woman?

“Damn it. The next time those Jinyiwei dogs come to the manor, they can forget about crossing the front gate if they don’t bring proper gifts.”

After the storm had finally passed, Yan Nian wrapped an arm around his concubine and spoke through gritted teeth.

Today had been exhausting.

In fact, he had been busy since before dawn.

As far as he was concerned, every bit of his misery could be blamed on the Jinyiwei.

Before sunrise, while he had finally been enjoying a rare full night’s sleep, a gatekeeper had pounded on his door to report that the Jinyiwei had urgent business to discuss with Grand Secretary Yan. Not only had his rest been ruined, but when he later reported the matter to his master, Young Master Yan Shifan had scolded him for disturbing Lord Yan’s sleep.

Then, no sooner had the Jinyiwei departed than Yan Shifan ordered him to run to the residence of Minister of Justice He Ao and personally invite the minister to the Yan estate.

The entire morning had been nothing but errands.

While Yan Nian amused himself with his favored concubine in bed, Yan Shifan was in the study receiving Minister of Justice He Ao on behalf of his father, Yan Song.

Certain matters were not suitable for public discussion.

For such affairs, handling them personally was always safest.

Yan Shifan had long adhered to one principle: never leave behind evidence that could one day be used against him.

Though arrogant by nature, he was exceptionally calculating when it came to important matters.

He Ao might currently stand on his father’s side, but who could predict the future?

Political loyalties were as changeable as the wind.

And while Yan Shifan entertained He Ao in the study, Zhu Ping’an had already left his residence and was making his way toward the Ministry of Justice.

The Ministry’s offices were located not far from the Hanlin Academy, roughly where the eastern side of Tiananmen Square and the National Museum would stand in later generations. The other ministries—the Ministry of Rites, Ministry of Revenue, and the rest—were all clustered nearby, their government compounds practically adjacent to one another.

The black horse with its bizarre appearance had long become familiar with the route.

Moreover, the troublesome beast was a notorious troublemaker in the Marquis Manor’s stables.

For that very reason, Zhu Ping’an had chosen to ride it today.

Before heading to the Ministry of Justice, however, he first stopped at the Hanlin Academy.

There were two reasons.

First, he intended to leave his horse in the Academy’s stables. Much like modern parking spaces, they provided a convenient place to leave one’s mount, whereas the Ministry might not have suitable accommodations.

Second, he wanted to distribute wedding sweets to his colleagues and inform them of his recent marriage.

After tethering the horse, Zhu Ping’an carried a cloth bag into the main hall.

“Greetings, Director.”

The moment he entered, he encountered Li Mo, the head of the Hanlin Academy, who was just preparing to leave.

Zhu Ping’an immediately stepped aside to clear the doorway and respectfully cupped his hands in greeting.

Hearing someone address him, Li Mo initially intended to respond with the polite nod and brief encouragement he usually offered younger scholars.

However, the instant he recognized Zhu Ping’an, his expression darkened dramatically.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

Zhu Ping’an noticed at once.

Li Mo’s gaze toward him appeared even colder than before.

The man looked at him as though he were some sort of walking pile of filth.

What was going on?

Had he done something wrong?

Impossible.

He had only just returned.

He could hardly be accused of arriving late when his leave hadn’t even officially ended.

“Director, some days ago I—”

Zhu Ping’an reached into the cloth bag and produced a small red pouch embroidered with the character for happiness. He intended to present the wedding sweets and explain that he had recently married.

“Hmph. You’d better take care of yourself.”

To his complete surprise, Li Mo merely snorted coldly.

His face black as iron, he tossed out that cryptic warning before turning away with a sweep of his sleeves and departing.

Zhu Ping’an froze.

The hand holding the pouch remained suspended in midair.

His face was filled with bewilderment.

What the hell was that about?

Logically speaking, Li Mo shouldn’t have treated him this way.

In the past, Li Mo had suspected him of belonging to Yan Song’s faction and often greeted him with a sour expression.

But things should be different now.

After all, Zhu Ping’an’s memorial impeaching Zhao Daying for massacring innocent civilians and claiming false military merit was hardly an act that benefited the Yan faction.

Ordinary observers might not understand his true motives, but Zhao Daying was a man promoted with Yan Song’s approval and was unquestionably one of the Yan faction’s own.

If Zhu Ping’an were truly one of Yan Song’s followers, why would he submit such a memorial?

By all rights, that memorial should have prompted Li Mo to reconsider his earlier judgment.

In fact, it would not have been excessive to call Zhu Ping’an a vanguard opponent of the Yan faction because of it.

Li Mo ought to have gained a completely new appreciation for him.

Unfortunately, another work had begun circulating at almost the exact same time as the memorial.

A work associated with Zhu Ping’an.

The Art of Thick Blackness.

In Li Mo’s eyes, that work was even more detestable than the Yan faction itself.

Yan Song was only one man.

The members of the Yan faction, though numerous, were still finite in number.

But The Art of Thick Blackness?

That book had the potential to create thousands upon thousands of future Yan Songs and Yan faction opportunists.

Perhaps even worse than the originals.

What nonsense about thick skin and black hearts!

Claiming that the heroes and great men of history were nothing more than thick-skinned opportunists with ruthless hearts?

Absurd!

Outrageous!

A heretical doctrine!

As a scholar, one ought to discuss the teachings of Confucius and Mencius, uphold propriety, righteousness, integrity, and honor, and devote oneself selflessly to the welfare of the realm.

Yet this so-called philosophy openly discarded benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness as though they were worthless weeds.

It encouraged people to pursue their goals by any means necessary.

It promoted personal gain at the expense of all under heaven.

Rather than teaching virtue, it taught wickedness.

Such a corrupting text was being passed from hand to hand among countless readers.

The very thought infuriated him.

A work like that deserved only one fate:

To be thrown into the flames.

And the author of such a work occupied the position of top scholar of the realm.

To Li Mo, it was a disgrace to all men of learning.

His face dark with anger, Li Mo strode straight out of the Hanlin Academy.

Watching his departing figure, Zhu Ping’an rubbed his nose helplessly and let out a wry laugh.

Then he entered the hall and began distributing small bags of wedding sweets to every Hanlin scholar present—and even left some for those who were absent.

Afterward, he informed everyone of his marriage.

Since the wedding had been arranged so suddenly that he had been unable to notify them in advance, he apologized and invited them all to a banquet ten days later at the tavern frequently visited by members of the Academy.

The scholars accepted the sweets and offered congratulations.

Yet most of the looks directed toward him contained either sympathy or barely concealed schadenfreude.

The most obvious of all was Yuan Wei.

The man’s delight at Zhu Ping’an’s misfortune was practically written across his face.

As for the banquet invitation, only a small number accepted immediately.

Most declined politely or employed delaying tactics.

The prevailing attitude was one of offering congratulations while maintaining a careful distance.

Even Li Chunfang and the others who accepted did so with the caution of men determined to protect themselves.

“Lord Zhu’s memorial speaking on behalf of the common people truly earns Yuan’s admiration.”

Yuan Wei spoke with a smile that never reached his eyes.

Every trace of his expression radiated malicious amusement.

Ah.

So that was the reason.

The memorial.

Meeting Yuan Wei’s gaze, Zhu Ping’an clasped his hands and smiled faintly.

“If Lord Yuan is interested, why not submit a memorial in support of it? Wouldn’t that be splendid?”

Splendid my ass.

You’re courting death yourself—don’t drag me into it.

Yuan Wei immediately shook his head as though avoiding a plague.

Without the slightest hesitation, he refused.

Then he launched into a stream of lofty, self-righteous rhetoric about how a gentleman should not steal another man’s glory and other similarly polished excuses.

Seeing his reaction, the corner of Zhu Ping’an’s mouth slowly curled upward into an amused smile.

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