Hu Juzheng first offered Shangguan Yuan a sweetener.
It was neither a large nor a small one: he acknowledged that the Ministry of Rites’ affairs were indeed complicated and demanding, and that no one who had not devoted years to the field could hope to handle them well.
The corners of Shangguan Yuan’s mouth twitched slightly, but he did not relax.
He knew Hu Juzheng had not finished speaking. That old fox always spoke by first raising someone up, then knocking them down; first offering praise, then delivering the blow.
He would give you a taste of sweetness, then slap you across the face when your guard was down.
“However…”
Hu Juzheng changed tack.
“Pavilion Elder Cui also makes a valid point. The reform of ritual and propriety that Xiao Yuliang implemented in Luodu has indeed produced remarkable results.”
“A few days ago, I saw a memorial submitted by Luodu. It said that the local customs had taken on an entirely new character, with weddings, funerals, and other ceremonies all conducted according to proper rites.”
“Even in remote villages and the countryside, one could see traces of ritual and propriety having taken root.”
“That memorial was detailed and thorough, with clear figures and precise information. It was not the sort of empty prose filled with exaggerated claims.”
“What does that tell us? It tells us that Xiao Yuliang not only understands ritual institutions, but also knows how to put them into practice.”
“What does the position of Minister of Rites truly require? A pedant well versed in ritual, or a capable administrator who can spread ritual and propriety throughout the realm?”
“I believe it requires both. A scholar has his uses, and a capable administrator has his value.”
“Xiao Yuliang is somewhat lacking in one area. It is true that he has not spent as many years working in the Ministry of Rites as those veteran Directors and Vice Ministers.”
“But having said that, if we are speaking of learning and scholarship, who in the Ministry of Rites does not understand ritual better than the minister himself?”
“The minister’s duty is not to compete with the Directors over who knows more about ceremonial procedures and regulations. It is to set the direction, oversee the bigger picture, and drive reform.”
“From that perspective, Xiao Yuliang’s performance in Luodu is at least worthy of consideration.”
When Hu Juzheng finished speaking, he lifted his teacup and took a sip.
The tea was still cold, yet he savored it as though it contained an aftertaste that only he could appreciate.
He set the cup back on the table and unconsciously tapped the lid twice with his finger. Then he fell silent.
Hu Juzheng had offended no one. He had said that Pavilion Elder Cui had a point, and that Shangguan Yuan was also right.
He had even analyzed Xiao Yuliang’s strengths and shortcomings, yet in the end he had neither said that he supported Xiao Yuliang nor that he opposed him.
His position was that Xiao Yuliang was worthy of consideration.
Whether he would ultimately make the list was another matter entirely.
Shangguan Yuan’s brows drew lower.
He knew Hu Juzheng was merely trying to smooth things over, but the old man’s technique was simply too masterful.
He had laid out the arguments in Xiao Yuliang’s favor clearly and logically, while presenting the arguments against him with equal coherence.
Then he had concluded with the statement that Xiao Yuliang was worthy of consideration—a position that allowed him to advance or retreat as circumstances demanded.
If Xiao Yuliang eventually took office and performed well, Hu Juzheng could say, “I told you from the beginning that he was worth considering.”
If Xiao Yuliang ran into trouble after taking office, Hu Juzheng could just as easily say, “All I said was that he was worth considering. I never said I supported his appointment.”
That was the way of a veteran of the Grand Secretariat.
He would never commit himself completely. He would always leave himself a way out.
Cui Shifan watched it all unfold.
He did not rush to speak again. Instead, he allowed Shangguan Yuan’s silence and Hu Juzheng’s neutrality to ferment in the council chamber for a moment.
Then he reached for the purple-hare brush resting on the brush rack and once again moistened its tip along the edge of the inkstone.
The ink had thickened slightly. Cui Shifan scraped the brush tip against the inkstone wall twice more, making the ink even and rich.
“Both of you have made valid points, and both have touched upon the crux of the matter.”
Cui Shifan spoke unhurriedly, his tone as steady and impartial as ever.
“The selection of a Minister of Rites cannot be based solely on scholarship, nor solely on administrative ability.”
“The ideal candidate would naturally possess both.”
“But Cui Zhenji has departed, and the Ministry of Rites is buried under a mountain of unfinished business. We cannot afford to wait for an ideal candidate.”
“We can only choose the most suitable person from among the candidates available.”
“Xiao Yuliang’s experience in the Ministry of Rites is indeed inferior to that of the old hands who have worked there for many years.”
“On that point, Grand Secretary Shangguan is correct. But Xiao Yuliang’s achievements in local government are also plainly evident.”
“Three consecutive years of top-tier evaluations cannot be earned through luck alone.”
“Nor can the results of the ritual reforms in Luodu be dismissed as empty boasts.”
“Grand Secretary Hu has mentioned this point as well.”
Cui Shifan paused, holding the purple-hare brush suspended above the first line of the blank memorial.
“As for whether he is truly suited to become Minister of Rites, once this list is submitted, His Majesty will make the final decision.”
“The Grand Secretariat’s duty is to recommend suitable candidates to His Majesty, not to make the decision in his place.”
“Therefore, I believe Xiao Yuliang should be included on the list of candidates.”
As his words fell, the council chamber once again sank into silence.
Cui Shifan held the brush and looked at Hu Juzheng.
Shangguan Yuan was looking at him as well.
Two gazes—one steady as a mountain, the other sharp as a blade—fell upon Hu Juzheng’s impassive face at the same time.
Hu Juzheng knew that the moment had come.
He could no longer continue smoothing things over.
Cui Shifan had already made his position clear: Xiao Yuliang should be included on the list of candidates.
This was a formal proposal from the Chief Grand Secretary. Under the rules governing deliberations in the Grand Secretariat, a formal proposal had to be put to a vote.
And Hu Juzheng’s vote would be decisive.
Hu Juzheng fell silent.
His silence was not caused by hesitation. He had decided long ago how he would vote.
He was merely adjusting his demeanor, making what he was about to say appear to be a decision reached only after careful consideration, rather than something he had planned from the outset.
Hu Juzheng set down his teacup.
This time, he did not tap the lid with his finger or idly turn his thumb.
He straightened his robes, shifted his slightly reclined body upright, and moved both hands from his abdomen to the table.
“Pavilion Elder Cui’s words are reasonable. Though Xiao Yuliang has shortcomings, his achievements in local government and the results of his reforms in ritual and propriety are sufficient to earn him the opportunity to be reviewed by His Majesty.”
Hu Juzheng’s voice retained its unhurried cadence, but every word carried noticeably greater weight than before.
“I agree that Xiao Yuliang should be included on the list of candidates.”
Two votes to one.
Cui Shifan gave a slight nod, his expression revealing little. He simply lowered the purple-hare brush that had been suspended above the memorial.
The tip touched the paper, and ink spread across its snowy surface, forming a neat character: Xiao. Then came Yu, and finally Liang.
The three characters were written with meticulous care, upright and dignified, utterly unlike the cursive script he used when reviewing official documents.
He had not even used cursive. He had written each stroke in proper regular script.
Shangguan Yuan stared at the three characters and remained silent for a moment.
Cui Shifan could have written Xiao Yuliang’s name in the margin of the memorial. He could have written it carelessly, in a hurried scrawl.
He could have made it obvious at a glance that he had reservations about the man.
But he had done none of those things.
Cui Shifan had used regular script—the most formal and impeccable style—to write Xiao Yuliang’s name neatly on the very first line of the list.
That was the Chief Grand Secretary’s attitude:
I disagree with your opinion, but I will not make things difficult for you through procedural means.
“I’ve written your name down properly. Whether His Majesty chooses you is up to him.”
After Cui Shifan finished writing, he raised his head, his gaze sweeping from Hu Juzheng’s face to Shangguan Yuan’s.
“Next is the second candidate.”
“Gu Chengyin.”
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
s + Rent Collection Wealth】 At the start, he inherited a rundown house in the urban village from his grandfather. The house had no tenants, but the moment he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, a self-proclaimed empress from the Tianxuan Continent arrived as his first tenant. Ye Chuan soon discovered that with every new tenant moving in, not only did he receive massive daily payments, but he also obtained unique items related to their backgrounds. 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Tiger Strength Pill—dramatically enhances physical power!】 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Deer Blood Pill—significantly boosts vitality!】 …… From that day on, all sorts of bizarre tenants began appearing in the house: the empress from Tianxuan Continent, an apocalyptic sorceress from the Magic Realm, a mysterious scientific girl who fell through a spacetime rift… Every single day, he received strange, powerful items and endless money. Then one day, he suddenly realized—he had become invincible. Enough, enough! Stop giving me more!
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
