Chapter 207: Requesting a Business Trip

Chapter 207: Requesting a Business Trip

Zhou Mingqi looked at the dark circles under his eyes and his seemingly thinner cheeks, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly.

Yet his tone remained calm, even carrying a hint of unquestionable authority.

"Yuanzhou is far away, the journey is arduous, and you haven't fully recovered from the lingering poison in your system. It's not suitable for you to travel far.

I have my own plans for this matter. You should rest and recuperate in the capital in peace."

The excuse was plausible, entirely out of concern for his subject's health. Cheng Ge's heart sank halfway at once.

Rest and recuperate in peace? If he kept resting in the capital, he feared he might actually turn gay.

An overwhelming sense of crisis seized him instantly. Seeing his only chance to escape this gay den slipping away,

Cheng Ge steeled himself. Disregarding courtly etiquette, he stepped forward two paces and dropped to his knees before the emperor.

He looked up, his eyes brimming with sincerity, gazing at Zhou Mingqi.

His voice rose sharply, carrying a tragic yet fervent tremor, nearly cracking: "Your Majesty!"

"I know Your Majesty is considerate of your subjects, but precisely because I have received imperial grace and bathed in Your Majesty's virtuous influence, it is now, when the court needs men of talent, that I should share Your Majesty's burdens and serve the nation!"

"I, Cheng Ge, have received the nation's favor, unworthy though I am of Your Majesty's grace, yet still occupying a place at court.

How can I, because of a mere minor poison, seek ease and shrink back now?

Would that not betray Your Majesty's grace and shame the ancestors of the Cheng family?"

He grew more impassioned as he spoke, his eyes growing red, and he shuffled forward on his knees another two steps.

"Your Majesty, though I am untalented, I know well the principle of giving my utmost until my dying day.

Though Yuanzhou is distant, it is still imperial territory; though its ailments are deep, it needs a sharp sword.

I am willing to be that sword in Your Majesty's hand, to cleanse the filth and purify the realm."

"As for my health, Your Majesty need not worry. I have practiced martial arts since childhood, my foundation is still decent. This minor poison is nothing to fear.

Compared to Your Majesty's tireless toil in handling state affairs daily, what is my meager offering?"

"Your Majesty, please grant me this journey. I will surely fulfill my duties, investigate the deep-rooted ills, and never betray Your Majesty's trust.

If I cannot restore clean governance to Yuanzhou, I... I swear I'll offer my head to you!"

His voice boomed, his emotions intense, his expression vivid, his sentiment fully charged.

He had painted himself as a loyal minister loving his sovereign and nation, fearless of danger, eager to repay the court.

Standing nearby, the chief eunuch, Fuquan, hands at his sides, was deeply moved.

In all his years serving His Majesty, when had he seen such a patriot and lover of the people...

Cheng Ge's words still echoed in his ears about giving his utmost until his dying day and offering his head, his loyal declaration.

Now, matched with Cheng Ge's sleepless-reddened eyes, it seemed extraordinarily genuine and touching.

Eunuch Fuquan couldn't help but lift his sleeve, discreetly wiping away tears that weren't there.

On the throne, Zhou Mingqi listened expressionlessly, his gaze falling on Cheng Ge kneeling below.

The young man's voice carried an unusual fervor, clear with a slight tremor.

He looked up, full of hope, at Zhou Mingqi, his face tight, showing a rare stubbornness.

Zhou Mingqi's eyes briefly swept over his face, and his fingers absentmindedly rubbed the warm jade thumb ring.

His gaze slid past Cheng Ge's shoulders, landing on the empty pillar behind him.

Yuanzhou...

The name of that place passed through his mind, followed by a series of case records and secret reports.

Unclear tax records, a complex network of marriages among local officials, and... a censor's unjust death.

Beneath that tangled mass of vines hid sharp thorns and deadly fangs that could easily take a life.

The person sent needed to be experienced, well-connected, and... have enough skill and luck not to be devoured by that darkness.

Someone like Cheng Ge, thrown into such a den of wolves, would likely be torn apart, flesh and bone.

"I have noted your loyalty." His voice came calmly, revealing no disturbance.

His gaze still fixed on the distant pillar, not looking at Cheng Ge, his tone was ice-cold.

"But there are many capable ministers, not just you. For Yuanzhou... I have another candidate. You may take your leave now."

Cheng Ge knelt on the icy golden bricks, ears ringing.

The emperor's words about having another candidate cut through his burning enthusiasm like a dull knife.

He stared blankly at the expressionless face on the throne, as if the emperor were looking at a fool.

Why?! Yuanzhou wasn't a good place, and the Imperial Inspector was even a dangerous assignment.

If it were those veteran ministers, that would be fine, but he, a nobody, was throwing himself into the fire. Why wouldn't that Dog Emperor allow it?

Could it be that he thought his sincerity wasn't enough?

Cheng Ge pressed his lips into a thin line, thinking that if he missed this chance, there would never be another.

"Your Majesty, I... my heart for the nation and its people is witnessed by Heaven and Earth!"

With that, his hands unconsciously clutched the emperor's leg, his words earnest, "Your Majesty, won't you reconsider?"

The doors of the imperial study opened, and Cheng Ge was grabbed under the armpits by two guards and gently set him down outside the doors.

Cheng Ge: "..."

After his request for a business trip failed, Cheng Ge's heart died and could not be rekindled, so he simply gave up hope.

The next day, in the imperial study.

Zhou Mingqi had just picked up his red brush to begin reviewing the day's first memorial.

Fuquan, standing beside him, presented a plain note with a peculiar look, not in the standard memorial format.

"Your Majesty, this is... the note Censor Cheng delivered this morning." Fuquan's voice carried a hint of hesitation.

Zhou Mingqi paused slightly, taking the plain paper and unfolding it. The handwriting was neat enough, but the content…

“Your subject Cheng Ge respectfully submits this memorial:

May Your Majesty be in peace. Since receiving Heaven’s favor and being unworthily placed among the court ranks, I have always been afraid of falling short of Your Majesty's expectations.

Yet of late, I have been unable to sleep at night, repeatedly examining myself, and I feel keenly that my talents are shallow and my virtue unworthy of this position.

To the state and the court, I have rendered no merit whatsoever, wasting my salary, and I am overwhelmed with shame—especially when, at the last audience, Your Majesty showed such earnest concern and bade me rest.

Whenever I think of Your Majesty busy with a myriad affairs, toiling from dawn till dusk, and I cannot share even a fraction of Your burden but instead become a liability, my heart burns with anguish.

If this continues, I fear I may not only fail to serve Your Majesty but, due to pent-up gloom, fall ill from worry, adding to Your Majesty’s vexation.

Though I am not yet old in years, my heart has already sunk into dusk, like a guttering candle, no longer able to bear the heavy duties of the court.

To sit idly in office is truly to hold a sinecure—it is not the way of a subject.

After much deliberation, I can only beseech Your Majesty to permit me to resign my post and return to the countryside.

Thus, Your Majesty may select another worthy person to fill the substantive office.

And I, beneath the forest spring, may pray day and night for Your Majesty, extolling Your peace and health—though far away, my loyal heart remains, perhaps affording some comfort.

I humbly beg Your Majesty’s pity and approval. I, your subject Cheng Ge, weeping tears of blood, prostrate myself twice again.”

Zhou Mingqi was speechless: “…”

Zhou Mingqi looked at the letter, each word so sincere, requesting retirement to his hometown.

A vein on his temple twitched almost imperceptibly. He instinctively raised a hand to rub his throbbing brow.

Without a second thought, he lifted the brush and wrote: “Your years are not yet old, why speak of retirement?”

Having finished writing, he said in a low voice to Fu Quan: “Take him that newly presented agarwood, and tell him to stop such fanciful notions.”

Fu Quan bowed in response, casting a discreet glance at Zhou Mingqi, and sighed inwardly.

When Cheng Ge received the imperial decree and the box of tribute agarwood, he understood perfectly.

Indeed, His Majesty intended to go through the whole song and dance of sovereign-minister harmony.

As they say, resigning in ancient times had its own established procedures.

It could also be called a political performance, where the emperor would usually try several times to persuade the official to stay to express the bond between ruler and subject.

Cheng Ge knew this—

The eight-character imperial reply “Your years are not yet old, why speak of retirement” matched his expectations to the letter.

In the first round, His Majesty, according to ritual, offered a gracious word of retention, displaying the sage's mercy and appreciation for talent.

And he, Cheng Ge, as the official requesting to retire, the stage was already set.

He now had to keep playing the part of someone indifferent to power and resolute in departure.

“Entering the dark room now—if I can't get out, updates will be slow.”