014 [Entering the Hall]

In the eighteenth year of the Taihe era, on the first day of the eleventh month, the grand court assembly was held.

This was the eighth day since Xue Huai’s arrival in this world.

In these brief eight days, Xue Huai felt as though he had wandered through countless days and nights shrouded in mist; before his eyes was a vast expanse of white fog, with vague figures flickering in and out of sight.

After reading the "Notes on River Engineering" left by Xue Mingzhang that night, Xue Huai spent two days gathering various materials. At last, he uncovered numerous faint clues amidst the white haze.

Meanwhile, the impeachment of the late Minister of Justice, Xue Mingzhang, initiated by the Ministry of Works official Gu Heng, had stirred considerable unrest in the capital over several days.

The Emperor had already decreed that the Ministry of Punishments investigate the matter, though this was merely the official procedure. Rumor had it that the elite forces of the Jing’an Bureau, the Emperor’s secret intelligence agency, had long since begun their covert operations.

Though rampant gossip filled the streets, the court remained calm and undisturbed. None of the key figures from various factions voiced any stance, clearly waiting for the situation to clarify.

Some observed cautiously, others laid their plans, and still others waited to reap the benefits of others’ struggles.

As the only blood relative left behind by Xue Mingzhang, Xue Huai’s most rational choice seemed to be to keep a low profile. After all, his position was too low, and his relationships at court had been strained these past two years. In such a turbulent moment, any misstep could cause adverse consequences.

Yet no one knew that Xue Huai had already made up his mind.

Great figures liked to manipulate the chessboard, but he was determined to leap off it altogether.

At the third quarter of the first hour, Xue Huai took a simple meal and then proceeded to the main hall, where he saw Lady Cui seated in a folding chair, gazing at him with a tender expression.

“Pay respects to Mother,” Xue Huai said as he stepped forward.

He wore a deep blue silk robe with a circular collar, a plain silver belt around his waist, a black gauze cap with wings, and black leather boots embroidered with cloud patterns. This official attire accentuated his slender and graceful figure, complemented by his handsome features—anyone who saw him would praise him as a refined young gentleman.

Lady Cui was naturally pleased. Though this was not Xue Huai’s first time attending court, she still worried and earnestly reminded him, “Huai’er, do not act recklessly in court. If no one mentions that matter today, then behave yourself, wait quietly until the session ends, then return home. Do you understand?”

Xue Huai did not want to deceive this poor woman, but he had no better choice now. He decided to explain everything after the dust settled, so he bowed his head and said, “Mother, do not worry. I know what I must do.”

Lady Cui nodded. “Good. Then go.”

Xue Huai bowed and left.

Lady Cui watched his figure disappear into the night and sighed softly.

The maid Mò Yùn standing nearby said, “Madam, young master is not as before. You need not worry so much.”

“You don’t understand.” Lady Cui shook her head, instinctively tightening the sandalwood Buddhist beads in her hand, her voice heavy with sorrow. “Huai’er’s nature remains unchanged deep down, especially since this matter strikes at his bottom line. Though he has said nothing, I know he will definitely do something today.”

Mò Yùn’s face showed anxiety.

Lady Cui’s fingers turned pale as she murmured, “I only hope he remains safe.”

Elsewhere, Xue Huai boarded a carriage, accompanied only by his driver and the long-time attendant Li Shun.

They traveled in silence.

Around the second quarter of the third hour, the carriage reached the horse dismounting stele outside the East Hua Gate.

Xue Huai stepped down, glanced at the faintly brightening sky, and said to Li Shun, “Today is the grand court assembly, which will not end until around midday at the earliest. You need not wait here the whole time. Find a place to rest and come back to fetch me when the time comes.”

Li Shun gratefully replied, “Yes, young master.”

Xue Huai turned and walked toward the Imperial City.

Upon entering the Cheng Tian Gate, the scenery suddenly opened up.

Before him was the palace square where officials stood in scattered groups.

Since this was the grand court assembly, all officials of the ninth rank and above in the capital were required to attend, including those reporting duty from other regions. Those without official business could not be absent.

As Xue Huai appeared at the edge of the square, the glow from the lanterns cast light upon him, instantly attracting many gazes.

Most people were aware of the recent turmoil at court. Some looked at Xue Huai with schadenfreude, hoping to see despair etched on his face.

Over the past two years, Xue Huai frequently impeached officials, making him seem more like an inspector from the Censorate than a member of the Hanlin Academy. Naturally, he had offended many.

Now that his deceased father had been severely impeached by Gu Heng, and the Emperor had ordered an investigation by the Ministry of Punishments, these people wondered how Xue Huai still had the nerve to maintain a dignified appearance.

Facing the peculiar stares cast from all directions, Xue Huai seemed unfazed. He calmly walked toward the eastern side of the square.

That was where the Hanlin scholars gathered.

Seeing his composure, some silently cursed him as a pretender.

The Hanlin scholars had gathered in full today.

Liu Huaide looked toward Xue Huai and nodded in greeting, a trace of regret in his eyes.

The lost archives of the Hanlin Academy still yielded no clues. Liu had investigated all related personnel these days but found nothing. The clerk Liu Pingshun stubbornly denied everything. Liu Huaide was powerless and could only pin his hopes on the experienced detectives of the Ministry of Punishments.

Leading the conversation, Liu Huaide said, “Jingche, don’t be anxious. Liu Pingshun won’t hold out for long. I believe the truth will soon come to light.”

Xue Huai sincerely thanked him, “Much obliged, scholar.”

Glancing around, he noticed that Lin Miao, a Hanlin scholar, was absent from the crowd. He guessed Lin had already joined the senior officials waiting under the corridor.

There, padded cushions were provided for the purple-robed high ministers to wait seated, unlike the lower-ranking officials who had to stand in the square.

This made Xue Huai slightly regretful, as he lost the chance to observe the high officials of the Great Yan Dynasty before the assembly began.

Seeing his silence, Liu Huaide mistakenly assumed Xue Huai was troubled by the Yangzhou corruption case and gently asked, “Jingche, have you not visited the Shen residence these days?”

Had Xue Minglun been here, he might have asked why not.

Currently, few could aid Xue Huai, and even fewer were willing. The Minister of Rites, Shen Wangjue, was undoubtedly the best choice.

Xue Huai hesitated briefly, feeling guilty, and replied, “My situation is awkward now; I do not wish to trouble my benefactor.”

“You...” Liu Huaide was momentarily stunned, then sighed. “Actually, Minister Shen has never held any grudge against you. He only wishes for your official career to be steadier, hence his sternness. After all, he is your mentor and does not want to see you in trouble. If you have time these days, you should visit the Shen residence. I believe he can offer you some guidance.”

“I understand, thank you for your advice, scholar.”

Xue Huai hesitated, seeming about to say something else.

Liu Huaide said, “Speak frankly.”

Xue Huai glanced at Chen Quan in the distance and slowly said, “Scholar, on that day, Lecturer Chen personally admitted he knew about Gu Langzhong’s impeachment of my late father beforehand and deliberately used this matter to unsettle me.”

“Is that so?” Liu Huaide frowned. Though unskilled at reading minds, he understood the implication of Xue Huai’s words and said gravely, “That Chen Quan, scheming behind his colleagues’ backs.”

Xue Huai wanted to point out that Liu Huaide’s focus was misplaced—shouldn’t they wonder why Chen Quan knew in advance about Gu Heng’s plan to exploit an incident from ten years ago?

Yet he did not delve deeper and instead said solemnly, “Scholar, I have a matter I hope you can assist with.”

Liu Huaide responded seriously, “Speak.”

Xue Huai whispered, “The academy’s head dislikes meddling. That day, besides the head, Lecturer Chen, and myself, only you witnessed the strange dealings between Chen and the clerk Liu. If His Majesty takes an interest and suspects I concealed the academy’s archives, would you be willing to testify?”

He silently apologized in his heart.

Liu Huaide was an upright man, and Xue Huai’s request was dragging him into trouble—an act unbecoming of a gentleman.

Though it would not cause Liu much difficulty, it was still somewhat unfair.

Without hesitation, Liu Huaide nodded, “Rest assured. If those two dare to frame you over this, I will speak out in your defense.”

Xue Huai’s lips moved, gratitude overflowing his expression.

Liu Huaide patted his arm and smiled, “A gentleman has things he will and won’t do. Though I dare not call myself a gentleman, at least I will not be a sycophant.”

Just as Xue Huai was about to thank him, a crisp crack of a whip sounded from afar.

At the second quarter of the third hour, the officials entered court.

Today’s grand assembly was held in the Huangji Hall. Under the watchful eyes of the supervising censors, civil and military officials took their positions according to rank.

Xue Huai stood at the end of the eighth row, about thirty feet from the dragon throne.

Thanks to his position as a Hanlin compiler, he was a close imperial aide. Otherwise, seventh-rank officials from regular ministries would not even qualify to enter the hall, forced to stand on the red steps outside, barely basking in the Emperor’s favor.

At this moment, the supervising censor held the "Court Seating Chart" to verify officials’ ranks. Soon after, the Herald Ministry officer struck the whip thrice, and officials clasped their wooden tablets before their chests.

The grand music began. The Emperor ascended his throne, and the officials performed the three kneels and nine kowtows.

Like everyone else, Xue Huai bowed his head to gaze at his tablet, neither looking around nor daring to glance up at the Great Yan Sovereign. The hall was patrolled by supervising censors; any misstep would be reported as a breach of court decorum.

Only after the entire ritual concluded did Xue Huai straighten his back and lift his eyes to look forward.

On the dragon throne sat the middle-aged Emperor, wearing a twelve-beaded coronet and a robe embroidered with twelve symbolic emblems, his presence commanding respect without uttering a word.

At that moment, the Great Yan Sovereign’s gaze swept toward Xue Huai’s position.

Those slender, cold eyes shone with a profound and meaningful light.