Chapter 29: Into a Political Intrigue Novel, Day 7

Chapter 29: The Seventh Day of Transmigrating into a Scheme Novel

Just as the two were locked in this tense stare, a steady but slightly labored set of footsteps approached from a distance.

The newcomer was an elderly man, his hair and beard as white as snow, neatly tucked under his black gauze official cap. He wore the crimson court robe exclusive to a first-rank official, embroidered with exquisite cranes and auspicious clouds, the stitches fine and dense, gleaming with solemn luster under the morning light, radiating authority.

An Yi's eyes flickered at the sight of this man, and he adopted an expression of utmost respect.

He immediately bent deeply at the waist, his hands clasped in a profound bow, and called out clearly, "Teacher." Then, he quickly stepped forward, naturally and considerately supporting the elder's arm with a familiar gesture.

Ge Lian also restrained his expression, gave a slight cupped-hand salute and said, neither humble nor overbearing, "Chief Grand Secretary."

Yet his gaze was drawn as if by an invisible thread, falling once again upon An Yi. Watching An Yi's current demeanor of gentle courtesy and reverence for his teacher, how could it not make one's teeth grind in frustration!

Underneath this gentlemanly, jade-like exterior was clearly a pitch-black, scheming heart! This hypocrite, how could he be so... infuriating!

Duan Mingde clearly sensed the lingering subtle tension between the two. His snowy, brush-like eyebrows furrowed almost imperceptibly as he swept his gaze over them, his voice tinged with scrutiny: "Junior Marquis and Junheng, what were you discussing?"

Ge Lian blinked. Junheng?

Oh, he had almost forgotten; that was An Yi's courtesy name.

Yi implied adaptability and resourcefulness; Heng meant holding the center and upholding righteousness. The meaning derived from the *Doctrine of the Mean*: grasp both ends and use the middle, remaining flexible without losing the foundation—the way of the gentleman.

Junheng, Junheng—the gentlemanly demeanor in these words did not match this black-hearted man at all.

Hearing this, a warm, appropriate smile spread across An Yi's lips, as if the confrontation had never occurred, and he explained in a calm tone: "The Junior Marquis was merely making an innocent joke with this student of yours."

Ge Lian suppressed the emotions surging within him, maintaining his dignified composure. He slightly nodded, a slight, perfunctory smile curving his lips: "Indeed, Lord Grand Secretary, do you have any guidance?"

The Chief Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat, Duan Mingde, was An Yi's mentor and thus naturally aligned with him, constantly opposing Ge Lian.

Ge Lian was a member of the imperial clan, unlike those ministers who longed for the sage emperor to rule through effortless virtue.

Duan Mingde's face was stern, but just as he was about to offer a few words of admonition, the doors of the Hall of Supreme Harmony swung open. The three of them, along with the arriving civil and military officials, immediately stood in solemn silence, cutting off their unfinished words, and proceeded into the main hall.

The officials quickly took their positions according to rank, leaving only the faint rustle of fabric. Duan Mingde, as the head of all officials, stood unshakably at the forefront below the imperial dais, with An Yi's position two paces behind him.

Across from him, slightly further back, Ge Lian stood upright.

Shortly after, the aged emperor ascended the dais to the throne, flanked by attendants. His figure was gaunt, clad in a loose, bright yellow dragon robe, making him appear even more decrepit.

The eunuch standing by with a slight hunch raised his voice in that peculiarly shrill tone and shouted: "Hold court!"

"Long live the Emperor! Long live! Long, long live!" The thunderous cries of worship erupted as all officials knelt in unison on the cold, golden bricks, their foreheads touching the ground.

"Cough! Rise!" The old emperor gave a faint cough, quickly suppressing it. In the depths of his aged, cloudy eyes, a trace of fleeting gloom and impatience flashed past.

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" The officials then rose, hands at their sides, standing in silence. The eunuch once again called out: "If there are matters to report, present them; otherwise, court is dismissed!"

"Your Majesty, your servant has a memorial to submit!" A resonant voice broke the brief silence.

From the ranks of the Ministry of War, an official in a blue bird-embroidered robe strode forward, raised his ivory tablet high, and bowed deeply, then prostrated himself on the ground. His voice was firm, each word striking like a hammer: "Your servant impeaches Wang Xian, Director of the Revenue Allocation Bureau! He embezzled silver from the southern grain transport and skimmed off the winter military supplies for the northern border troops last winter! The evidence is conclusive, and I beseech Your Majesty to render judgment!"

Instantly, a wave of murmurs spread.

Many officials couldn't help but secretly observe the expressions of Duan Mingde and An Yi.

The Director of the Revenue Allocation Bureau, though only a fifth-rank official, held a position so lucrative that it was rare to find its equal. It had always been a coveted post contested by various factions.

Now, it was held by a member of the Grand Secretary's faction. For the Ministry of War to impeach him was a direct strike at Duan Mingde!

It seemed that Young Marquis Ge was retaliating against Lord An for removing Peng Boshi!

At the storm's center, An Yi remained as if detached from it all. He stood calmly, his handsome face unruffled, as though the impeached man was not part of his camp.

Duan Mingde's face darkened.

A glimmer of joy first appeared on the old emperor's face, but he quickly suppressed it. He slammed the armrest of his dragon throne and began to question furiously: "A parasite! A parasite of the state! Where is Wang Xian?! Get out here!"

The flash of delight on his face did not escape An Yi's eyes. He lowered his gaze and sighed heavily in his heart.

Factional strife—such nation-destroying affairs—were actually good news to the old emperor. Only when the ministers quarreled endlessly could he sit securely on his throne, especially now that his health was failing.

Though it seemed a peaceful age, with the world at peace, in just a few years, all of this would cease to exist!

The blazing flames of war shattered all this; peaceful life was instantly torn apart by fire, smoke, piercing screams, and the cold glint of clashing swords.

On the throne in the golden hall sat not a supreme sovereign, but a beast wearing human skin.

Below the steps, a group of "leech-like men" in python robes wriggled and performed. The entire court was nothing but a huge, gilded cesspool. The scent of aloeswood mixed with the stench of copper, blood, and sycophantic decay, acrid enough to sting one's eyes shut.

Beyond the palace walls, the mortal world had become hell. For a thousand Li lay barren waste, with corpses strewn about, and the tragedy of swapping children for food played out daily.

Tax collectors were like locusts, scraping the land bare, squeezing every last drop from burial shrouds and ashes from stoves to fill the insatiable appetite of the throne and fatten the bellies of those leeches in python robes. The wailing of the people could not reach the "heavenly ear"; it was merely cut to pieces by blades at the foot of the palace walls, swept into the gutters with dust.

This dynasty, from root to tip, emitted a nauseating stench of decay.

The dragon throne was rotten wood; the officials were maggots and ants. The so-called "era of peace" was nothing but a corpse—hollowed out, gilded, and still dancing amidst drums and gongs, oozing pus from every pore and spewing toxic miasma with every breath. They fed on the blood and flesh of billions, chanting the elegy of "everlasting reign" at their riotous feast!

The people, unable to survive, rose up, unwilling to die, igniting blazing fires of war. Opportunists seized the moment to light countless fires of revolt across the kingdom's map.

And so, this rotting corpse collapsed with a crash, leaving only pained gasps and low moans.

And Ge Lian was the ultimate victor among those opportunists!