Chapter 638: Change of Attitude

Ever since entering September up until now, the middle of November, the Imperial City had been bustling with excitement. Whether it was the common people or those self-styled upper-tier dignitaries and nobles, every day brought endless new topics of conversation.

The military affairs in the South were naturally what intrigued the common folk most; especially the great victory at Jianchuan a few days ago, which pushed the topic to its peak.

The common people never bothered much about the process—they cared only for the result, in their honest and simple way.

If they lost, the Dynasty would lose face, and they themselves might even be affected; if they won, the Dynasty fought beautifully, and peace would return for a time.

Now, as expected, they had triumphed at the first engagement, and some of the wealthier households were already wondering whether the victorious army would bring back many Barbarian slaves? If so, they would surely be cheap—perhaps worth buying one or two for the household?

But those self-styled upper-tier dignitaries and nobles did not fixate solely on the military affairs in the South.

The South won a battle, yes, and the nobles were pleased, but it was also within their expectations—how could the powerful Dynasty not bring to heel the Barbarian Race that had plundered for forty years? So, what truly interested them lay elsewhere.

For example, just recently the Eldest Prince and Second Prince nearly got into a fight at a restaurant—it was only thanks to Ye Lansheng, who was at the same table, that things didn’t get out of hand.

Or, for instance, the Fifth Prince had been frequently visiting the Ministry of War lately, enjoying conversations with Vice Minister Wen Mingju about the military situation to the South, and even doing sand table exercises—not at all pretending to understand, but rather seeming quite versed in military affairs.

And lately, it was said that more and more Advisors in the Temple Hall were submitting impeachments against the Princes. Today, the Fourth Prince was charged with extravagance, tomorrow the Sixth Prince for keeping Barbarian slaves and harming the nation’s image, and the day after, the Seventh Prince for neglecting his duties and idling about…

Compared with southern military news, these upper-tier people preferred to gossip about the Princes. Because while the outcome of the war seemed a foregone conclusion—victory—all matters involving the Princes brimmed with uncertainty and, in large part, directly affected their own interests.

Unlike the common folk who simply enjoyed the spectacle, these so-called upper-class nobles, while appearing to engage in idle chatter, were actually probing each other continuously. Such probing was subtle, though mutually understood, and the higher the status of those involved, the more weight they placed on this game. For unlike the seven Princes, among the dignitaries there were no mortal grudges—they might choose different sides later, but would still keep up appearances. All of this needed to be gradually sorted out through such “probing.”

Ironclad Noble Families, passing Emperors—the ascension of a new Emperor should not make the noble houses sworn enemies just because they picked different teams, should it? Thus, compared to the seven Princes, the higher-ranking the family, the more clearly they saw through the shifting undercurrents of the Imperial City at this moment.

Prince Ling’s Mansion.

The rumors outside had done nothing to change Prince Ling, Yang Shu’s, habits. He still haunted all the haunts of pleasure and indulgence as before, playing the unruly prodigal, and continued mingling with merchants—a persona never truly accepted in the highest circles of the Imperial City.

“Where’s the stuff?”

Yang Shu spread his hands. A Guest Elder before him hurried to offer up a paper packet and a jar of liquor. The wine jar was labeled “Wuliangye.”

Opening the packet revealed pieces of roast chicken. Yang Shu grabbed one right away and started gnawing.

The Guest Elder beside him smiled as he poured a cup of wine and handed it over. “Your Highness, this is Wuliangye aged for two years, nearly impossible to find outside. I managed to get a few jars only after contacting Master Zhu Shou at the Fengri City brokerage. Please, try it.”

Yang Shu nodded. A bite of chicken, a sip of wine; he grunted in satisfaction, ate more, then declared, “Not bad! This aged liquor is indeed finer than ordinary Wuliangye. Set it aside, let’s just drink the regular stuff. The good wine should be saved and savored slowly.”

He finished half the roast chicken, washed his hands in the hot water a servant brought, then leaned back in his chair: “That was a satisfying meal. I’ve craved Zhao Family’s Old Shop’s roast chicken ever since Wen River—finally back, I got to eat it at last.

Phew. All right, tell me, what matters have come up while I’ve been away from the Imperial City these days? None of you slipped up, I hope?”

“To answer Your Highness, no slip-ups. Other than a select few in the mansion, no one else knows you went to Wen River. The rest who came left their calling cards—would you like to review them now?”

Yang Shu had just gotten home, hadn’t even washed up yet; but business comes first. He motioned for the cards to be brought over.

The Guest Elder handed him a hefty stack. As Yang Shu flipped through them, the Guest Elder provided commentary: “These have already been sifted—most are from Local Government Office deacons stationed at the Imperial City. The gifts are all generous—the lists are attached to the cards. I’ve returned the gifts for now.”

Yang Shu said nothing, checking each card—salutation, sender, and attached list—carefully, his expression earnest.

“These people certainly have sharp intuition and guts—they’re swarming over here even before anything’s settled. Aren’t they worried Ye Lansheng and the others might take issue?”

“Heh, Your Highness jests. The locals are their own faction, and though they’re under Ye Lansheng’s administration, ties are complicated. With so much at stake, who’d willingly fall behind? Subordinate believes even more will seek you out as time passes.”

Yang Shu was in fine spirits. The business he’d attended to at Wen River had gone off without a hitch; and just before coming back, he’d heard that Minister of Revenue Bai Changqing’s proposal for war expense austerity had been kept on file by the Emperor and not issued—he understood he might be in luck. Now, though things were not officially settled yet, he could already sense those normally arrogant officials’ changing attitude toward him.

“Since nothing’s settled yet, things could still change. So—all these cards are to be kept until further notice, and no gifts are to be accepted. Warn everyone: no loose talk about the war expense austerity proposal. Violators will be flogged to death.”

“Understood, Your Highness. I will strictly enforce it.”

“While I was out of the Imperial City, did my brothers pull any tricks?” Yang Shu leaned back in his chair again, a smile returning to his face. Speaking of his brothers, he now felt a certain sense of superiority—he had chosen a different path from the start. Foolish though it might have looked then, now everything had fallen perfectly into place, leaving him with far more room to maneuver than his brothers.

“The Princes have been quite active, mainly vying for the civil servant faction led by Ye Lansheng. Not long ago, Prince Jing and Prince Qian almost got into a fight at Moon Viewing Tower. Ye Lansheng was at the table with them.”

“Eldest Brother and Second Brother? Hahaha, don’t they always boast about their ‘composure’? Even they can get into fistfights? Hah! Next time I see them, I must tease them thoroughly…”