Great Song Dynasty Writer

Chapter 252 Zhao Huirou

After the banquet, the manuscript was not shelved.

Even though Zhao Zhen's movements were somewhat slow after suffering a stroke, when he returned to his palace in Funing Palace in a palanquin, he still held the neatly copied manuscript in his hand.

Inside the Funing Hall, candlelight shone brightly.

The interior furnishings are elegant, exuding a restraint that matches the owner's temperament.

With the help of palace maids, Zhao Zhen removed his everyday clothes and changed into loose-fitting casual robes. Only then did the heavy weariness that he had deliberately suppressed during the lectures begin to show between his brows.

After leaning against the soft couch by the window for a long time, he finally unfolded the manuscript in his hand again. His gaze fell on the line "The pivot of checks and balances is always in place, and the door to justice is always open," and remained there for a long time.

The palace servants inside the hall held their breath and moved as nimbly as cats.

At this moment, Princess Fukang, Zhao Huirou, the eldest daughter whom Zhao Zhen loved and trusted the most, walked over with light steps, carrying a bowl of warm soup.

She was eighteen years old, with a beautiful face and a gentle temperament with the dignified air of royalty. Since the spring of this year, when Zhao Zhen was unwell, she had been serving him almost every day, personally taking care of his diet and daily life.

"Father, it's time for some soup. Are you tired from today's lecture?"

Zhao Huirou's voice was soft and gentle, like a spring breeze.

She gently placed the soup on the small table beside the couch, her gaze naturally falling on the manuscript in her father's hands.

The Emperor's focused expression and the way he repeatedly stroked the paper indicated that this manuscript was unusual.

Zhao Zhen looked up and saw his daughter. His expression softened slightly. He placed the manuscript on his lap and took the soup from her. "It's alright. It's just that I couldn't help but think a bit more after reading a good article."

Without a second thought, he took a sip of the soup, clearly showing complete trust in his eldest daughter.

In fact, Princess Fukang took very good care of him.

After replacing a group of palace maids and eunuchs in the Forbidden City, adjusting the commanders of the Imperial Guards, and appointing Wu Jilong as the Imperial City Envoy, Zhao Zhen felt much more secure.

Zhao Huirou's eyes brightened slightly, with a hint of curiosity: "Which scholar's masterpiece could have captivated Father so much?"

Zhao Zhen put down the soup cup and turned his gaze back to the manuscript.

"No, it was written by a young scholar who came to Beijing this year to take the provincial examination."

"A scholar?"

Zhao Huirou's eyes widened in surprise.

It was already difficult enough for a candidate's essay to be read by the emperor, let alone for the emperor to read it repeatedly and ponder it so deeply.

Her curiosity grew even stronger, and she couldn't help but take a step closer, her gaze falling on the neat handwriting.

"Rou'er, take a look too."

Zhao Huirou carefully took the manuscript.

She received a royal education from a young age, was well-versed in poetry and literature, and had some knowledge of history. So, as soon as she saw it, she was attracted by its cold, sharp, and grand style.

She read slowly, word by word, sometimes frowning in thought, sometimes her eyes shining with a strange light.

After a long while, she finally looked up from the manuscript and gazed at her father.

“Father, I never imagined that the usurpation of power by powerful ministers in history could be traced back to the failure of the system. This scholar is truly insightful.”

At this moment, Zhao Zhen, who had just finished drinking the soup, suddenly asked a question.

"Rou'er, do you think there is anyone like Sima Yi in the court of our Great Song Dynasty?"

As Zhao Huirou listened to her father's calm words, the profound meaning contained in those words stirred something within her heart.

She knew, of course, who Sima Yi was.

Although she lived deep within the palace, she was not entirely ignorant of current affairs. Especially in the past year, with her father's health failing and her serving him, she could sense from the occasional words between her father and important officials that the court was not a tranquil place.

The Emperor's words at this moment, quoted from "On Zhongda," clearly have a hidden meaning.

"Your daughter is foolish and does not understand these things. She only knows that Father Emperor is diligent day and night and cares about the country. However, in my opinion, no matter how you look at it, there are still far more loyal and upright officials in the court of our Great Song Dynasty."

Zhao Huirou spoke softly as she gently placed the manuscript back on the small table beside the couch.

"Besides, the fact that even a mere scholar can write such an article shows that our Great Song Dynasty is full of talented young people. Father, you shouldn't worry too much."

Zhao Zhen shifted his gaze from his daughter's face and turned it back to the deep night outside the window.

The ancient cypress trees in the courtyard of Funing Palace cast deep shadows under the glow of the palace lanterns. He was silent for a moment, then said, "History serves as a mirror, revealing the rise and fall of dynasties and serving as a warning for the present. This essay, 'On Zhongda,' is quite right. People like Sima Yi emerged when the system was collapsing and public offices were blocked. As long as the court is upright, the laws are clear, and talent is selected fairly, even the most brilliant and intelligent people can only be used for the country, like fine timber used as pillars, how could they cause harm?"

Seeing his daughter's expression—a mixture of understanding and relief at his words—Zhao Zhen didn't continue the conversation. Instead, he smiled and asked, "I just wonder, among so many talented young men in the Song Dynasty, which one does Rou'er favor?"

Zhao Huirou's expression darkened.

Song Dynasty princesses were completely different from those Tang Dynasty princesses who wielded immense power and even dared to dream of becoming "empresses" or "crown princesses." No matter how favored they were, Song Dynasty princesses were not allowed to enter the imperial court.

Moreover, Song Dynasty civil officials were very wary of the rise of the power of maternal relatives. Even during the reigns of Emperor Zhenzong and Emperor Renzong, when maternal relatives held considerable power, they never reached the point where they could rival the civil officials.

Furthermore, the imperial son-in-law is different from a mere relative of the empress. Although he can reach the level of prefect, which is true that he can "avoid taking twenty years of detours," what will he do after that? But going any higher is extremely difficult.

Therefore, young talents with genuine political ambitions generally would not consider marrying a princess.

"My daughter is not young anymore, so I will leave everything to Father Emperor's arrangements."

Zhao Huirou spoke, answering softly and weakly.

Seeing his daughter like this, Zhao Zhen felt a pang of sadness.

He had no sons, only this one daughter who had just come of age.

In the past, Zhao Zhen felt he was in his prime and wouldn't have thought about certain things. But after narrowly escaping death at the beginning of this year, he began to seriously consider his daughter's marriage.

Because Zhao Zhen was very afraid that one day he would suddenly pass away without seeing his daughter get married. This kind of regret is unspeakable for a father.

"I know you dislike Li Wei."

Zhao Zhen sighed and said, "Now that I'm much better, you don't need to stay in the palace all the time. You can attend more appropriate occasions. If you meet a promising young man you like, just tell me. There's always a way."

Zhao Zhen's words were vague, but ultimately, the Song Dynasty was ruled by men.

No matter how benevolent a ruler or father may be, he is still a ruler or father. Things like Emperor Taizong's promotion of Lü Mengzheng can happen once or twice.

"You should go and rest. I'll read for a while longer."

"Yes, Father, please rest early and don't overwork yourself."

Zhao Huirou suppressed the turmoil in her heart, bowed, and obediently withdrew.

As she was leaving the palace, she couldn't help but look back one last time.

In the flickering candlelight, the emperor's figure leaned against the couch, appearing somewhat lonely.

The palace doors closed silently behind her, cutting off the light and shadow between the inside and outside.

Watching his daughter leave, Zhao Zhen sighed softly. The sigh was extremely faint, yet it seemed to carry the weight of the entire empire.

"Deng Xuanyan," he called out.

Deng Xuanyan, the deputy chief eunuch of the right rank of the palace eunuch department, who had been standing like a shadow in the dark corner of the palace, immediately stepped forward silently and bowed to receive the order.

Zhao Zhen did not look at him; his gaze remained fixed on the manuscript.

"Keep it safe and place it in the fifteenth compartment of the Jia character in the inner library of the Funing Hall."

The Imperial Library mainly stores documents that the officials consider extremely important and require repeated consideration.

Deng Xuanyan understood that the government did not want Lu Beigu's name to be exposed to the limelight too early.

In fact, Zhao Zhen knew that if such an article, which was like throwing a stone into water, passed through his hands and showed excessive interest at this time and place, it would immediately cause an unpredictable storm when it reached the outer court.

The Imperial Academy style is deeply rooted and complex, and its implications extend far beyond just literary style.
It was the "correct path" followed by countless scholars who studied diligently for years, the "routine" for examiners to grade papers, and the "tacit understanding" of certain forces in the court.

How could he not know the immense resistance that Ouyang Xiu and others faced in their efforts to reform the long-standing problems in literary style?

But Zhao Zhen had no choice but to do it.

From the government's perspective, any force that occupies a position for an extended period is a threat.

Lu Beigu is like a sharp blade that has not yet been sharpened. If used well, it may open up a new path. If used carelessly, it may not only hurt himself, but also ignite the undercurrents in the court in advance, causing unnecessary disputes in next year's examinations and even the court.

The candlelight crackled softly, illuminating Zhao Zhen's serene yet slightly pale profile.

"Furthermore, have Wu Jilong send the Imperial City Guard to investigate Lu Beigu's background, whether he wrote this article, and who is behind him. Find out the truth."

After saying that, he closed his eyes slightly, leaned back into the soft couch, and fell asleep after thinking for an unknown period of time.

(End of this chapter)