The court lackeys of the eight-hour workday

Chapter 383 Wenyuan Pavilion

"Liu Jinyi, Liu Jin... are they really this blatant?"

An Ziyang flicked his fingers twice on the document.

"With such an obvious clue, they should have been waiting for you to come to them, but instead, they had to wait for Commander Mei to inform me... Have you been eating too much lately, or have I been too easy to talk to lately?"

The households stood with their heads bowed, silent as cicadas in winter.

One of them stammered, "Commander, it's not that we're not doing our best... Commander Zhu is the Commander's only son. We are your people, and you are the Garrison Commander's people. If we investigate and cause any trouble, we're afraid it will put the Garrison Commander in a difficult position in front of the Commander..."

An Ziyang sighed.

Also.

The root of the problem is that he brainwashed his subordinates too much, making the entire garrison resemble a cult.

Things like being startled and clutching your chest while shouting "Oh my god, the garrison commander!" or sneaking into Li Miao's house to steal bricks, then grinding them into pendants to wear on your chest for protection, were nothing new in his thousand-household garrison.

The advantage is their absolute loyalty to Li Miao, but the disadvantage is that they become somewhat confused when it comes to matters related to Li Miao himself.

Let's talk about the matter at hand.

Everyone in the Embroidered Uniform Guard knew the relationship between Li Miao and Zhu Zai; they were closer than father and son.

Don't let their usual antics fool you; one of them's always joking around, the other slamming the table, and they never seem to get along. But if anyone were to stand in their way... there's no one in Da Shuo that Lord Li wouldn't dare kill, and no mess that Lord Zhu wouldn't dare clean up.

How could these centurions dare to get involved between these two?

It's not a pleasant thing to say that a godson is investigating his biological son.

"That's fine."

An Ziyang stood up.

"Go and thoroughly investigate this Liu Jinyi's background. Dig up all the ancestral graves within eight generations, and even have every dog ​​he's ever owned undergo a blood test to determine their kinship. If there's even the slightest mistake... You know, the Tang Clan recently sent over a batch of good stuff, right?"

The centurions were all pale-faced and nodded repeatedly in agreement.

Holding the stack of documents, An Ziyang left the Embroidered Uniform Guard office and took a carriage to the Forbidden City. Upon arriving at the palace gate, he disembarked, verified his identity, received his identification token, and then quickly walked towards the southeast of the Forbidden City.

After walking for a while, passing through the Donghua Gate, a two-story building came into view in the distance. It had three bays, a double-eaved hip roof, covered with black glazed tiles with green trim, and the plaque above the door read "Wenyuan Pavilion".

Wenyuan Pavilion, also known as the Inner Cabinet.

This was the center of power in Da Shuo.

Before last year, An Ziyang, a mere fifth-rank commander, wouldn't have been qualified to come here. Even Zhu Zai would have to be extremely cautious and respectful when he came.

But things are very different now.

An Ziyang strode to the entrance of Wenyuan Pavilion and glanced to the side. He saw several eunuchs standing outside the door with their heads bowed, seemingly unaware of his arrival.

Supervisor of Ceremonies.

The supreme power of the Great Shuo can be divided into three parts.

The Emperor, the Cabinet, and the Directorate of Ceremonial.

All matters of state, when put into writing, amounted to nothing more than a small memorial. Countless memorials were collected by the Six Ministries and sent to the Wenyuan Pavilion, where the Grand Secretariat would provide its opinions on how to handle them, a process known as "drafting proposals." Once the "drafts" were finalized, they were sent by the Directorate of Ceremonial to the Emperor, where the final decision was made, a process called "red approval."

The key lies in this "approval in red".

In theory, "red approval" was a decision made by the emperor himself, with the eunuch in charge of writing down the emperor's will in red ink, thus forming the supreme decision of the dynasty.

However, in practice, not every imperial edict came from the emperor's own will. Some "not very important" matters were approved directly by the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs, and the same thing happened.

As for what matters are important and what matters are not... unless the emperor himself asks, the decision is actually made by the Directorate of Ceremonial.

The phenomenon of "eunuchs wielding power" in the Great Shuo arose from this. The Grand Secretary and the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs, these two figures, lay atop imperial power, swallowing up every bit of power that the emperor himself had relinquished, and eventually grew into two behemoths in the Great Shuo court.

If the incident at the imperial tombs hadn't happened, the Embroidered Uniform Guards would have been no match for these two figures.

But now... An Ziyang looked at those eunuchs, and a slow smile crept onto his lips.

These eunuchs, each with graying temples and wrinkled skin, stood at the door like puppets. They only reacted when An Ziyang got close, raising their dim, yellowed old eyes to look at him.

Upon seeing his Jinyiwei (Imperial Guard) uniform, the eunuchs' expressions suddenly became respectful, and they bowed to pay their respects.

An Ziyang waved his hand.

"No need. If you're tired, just go and rest. As long as someone's at the door, that's fine... Just make it look like you're there."

"Yes Yes."

The old eunuch nodded vigorously.

"Is the commander here?"

"Yes, yes, the cabinet just drafted some regulations, and I just delivered them to Lord Zhu."

"Ah."

An Ziyang nodded and stepped into Wenyuan Pavilion.

The first floor was divided into two rooms. The outer room housed clerks who were responsible for compiling and classifying the memorials sent by the Six Ministries. The inner room was where the Grand Secretaries and the Chief Grand Secretary of the Cabinet held meetings.

Upon seeing An Ziyang enter, the clerks in the outer room reacted in various ways.

Some wore ingratiating smiles, some suddenly changed color and hung their heads in silence, and some showed indignation.

An Ziyang stopped and tilted his head to scan the group of people who looked indignant.

One of them suddenly blushed, his lips moving as if he was about to speak. But his colleague behind him reached out and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him behind him and smiling at An Ziyang.

An Ziyang didn't care at all and stepped up to the second floor.

The second floor was also divided into two rooms. There was hardly anyone in the outer room. An Ziyang stepped into the inner room and knocked on the door.

"Enter."

A weary voice called out from inside.

An Ziyang pushed open the door and walked in.

"Commander."

Inside, the floor was covered with documents, some even marked with red ink, enough to be used as imperial edicts outside, but they were all carelessly thrown on the ground.

In the middle of these papers was a long table, about ten feet wide, which was also crammed full of documents and memorials. The tallest stack was about two feet high, swaying and about to collapse.

At the center of the long table, Zhu Zaizheng stared intently at a memorial in his hands, his brows furrowed. The ink on the brush in his right hand had dried, indicating it had been hovering in mid-air for quite some time.

An Ziyang glanced at the pen in Zhu Zai's hand.

This brush is seven and three-tenths inches long, with a red jade handle that is as translucent as chicken blood. The top is inlaid with a gold dragon knob, and the brush tip is made of white wolf hair. The brush body is engraved with the four characters "奉天承运" (Fengtian Chengyun).

This is the "vermilion brush".

The Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs was the foundation of the imperial power, a tangible manifestation of the imperial authority that could decide the affairs of the world with a single stroke, and also the sharpest and heaviest weapon in the world.

Zhu Zai held the pen, but only felt tired.

(End of this chapter)