Chapter 369 Rewards and Titles

Chapter 369: Rewards and Honors

A year had passed, and many faces at the New Year's banquet were familiar, though a few at the head table had changed.

Consort Rong was attending the New Year's banquet for the first time and was unaware of last year's splendor. When she posed her question, the titled ladies who had been catching up with one another fell silent and turned their gazes toward Meng Wan in unison.

The whole assembly fell silent, with only the faint sounds of bells, drums, silk strings, and dance music drifting from the front hall.

Meng Wan rose with composed poise and offered a half-bow, his face showing not a trace of anger or displeasure at being challenged—nor fear or bewilderment, for that matter. A smile even lingered at the corners of his lips. "Consort Rong jests. If my attire were truly against regulations, I would have been stopped at the palace gates. How could the palace attendants have allowed me into the hall?"

The wooden palace lanterns in the hall were painted with landscapes, flowers, and birds, some fashioned from dazzling colored glass. Light fell upon Meng Wan like a veil of gauze, illuminating the delicate features beneath his bejeweled pheasant-feather coronet—dark hair, fair skin, his features even more vivid than in the daytime.

Consort Rong was briefly stunned. She lowered her gaze, her expression losing some of its earlier brightness. "Ah, Meng Fulang speaks sense. It seems I was the one being foolish."

The emperor was the true dragon, and his women were the most revered women under heaven. An ordinary titled lady would have knelt and kowtowed in apology by now.

Meng Wan clearly had no such intention. He casually tossed out a flattering remark instead. "Consort Rong is blessed with deep fortune and grace and enjoys the emperor's favor. Yours is a sweet and winsome disposition."

The titled ladies seated around Meng Wan breathed easier. On one hand, they marveled at how docile Meng Wan was being this time; on the other, their emotions churning, they felt a touch of wistfulness and... regret?

"What an intriguing young man," Consort Rong said, her smile not reaching her eyes. She was clearly dissatisfied with Meng Wan's perfunctory response and made no move to let him sit. This was meant to leave him hanging, to flaunt her exalted status and rank as an imperial consort.

But times were different now. Meng Wan was no longer the unknown nobody who had followed Song Tingzhou without even a titled lady's ceremonial gown, and the Empress was no longer the crown princess who had to watch her words and actions while her husband's fate was uncertain.

"Meng Fulang, please take your seat. Today the imperial kitchen has made eight-treasure steamed buns and lamb tripe soup—the flavor is quite good. Do try some." The Empress spoke with warmth and familiarity, instructing her attendant to bring the untouched lamb tripe soup from her own table to Meng Wan's. A copper basin with burning charcoal beneath kept the soup warm, and its tantalizing aroma hit him before it even reached his table.

Consort Rong, having been publicly put in her place by the Empress, looked even more displeased but couldn't vent her anger on the spot.

Last year, Meng Wan's bold move had been carefully calculated on many fronts. This year, he had no intention of stealing the spotlight. He docilely sat down and waited for his soup, even wiping the bowl and spoon with a handkerchief he had brought.

Before he could finish his first sip, Grand Eunuch Xi, the chief eunuch on duty, came to summon Meng Wan once more.

This scene was all too familiar, and the other titled ladies felt a strange sense of finality and calm.

As he left, Meng Wan shot a glance at Nie Zhiyao and took his leave of the Empress before following Eunuch Xi to the side hall to await the summons. He hadn't expected to find an acquaintance in the side hall.

"It's you?" Pei Anyuan wore simple attire—a green robe with only a single hairpin in his hair. His face was narrow in structure, his jawline gentle, his skin pale with a rosy undertone. Though his expression was cold, he was actually a rather sweet-faced ge.

Pei Anyuan was not tall; standing beside Meng Wan, the crown of his head only came up to Meng Wan's nose. Meng Wan looked down at him slightly, estimating he was about the same height as Fang Jinrong.

Of all the ge he knew, aside from Chi Yu, the tallest was still Luo Jining, who was even a bit taller than him, nearly 1.8 meters tall.

Come to think of it, why hadn't he seen Luo Jining today?

"Military Physician Pei, I heard you'd come to the capital, but I didn't expect to meet you here." Meng Wan offered a standard smile.

He was so strikingly beautiful that even a smile that didn't reach his eyes was a pleasure to behold.

But not everyone was swayed by appearances. When you dislike someone, even if they were Chang'e herself, you'd find fault with her for fleeing to the moon alone.

Pei Anyuan said coldly, "Meng Fulang is a busy man. I wouldn't dare impose on you at home."

"Heh." Meng Wan chuckled. He had only met Pei Anyuan a few times, and the man had always treated him with hostility. He wasn't about to go out of his way to be friendly, so he simply walked to the side hall's entrance to admire the painted designs on the lanterns.

After he turned around, Pei Anyuan's gaze shifted to his back. From certain angles, he could catch glimpses of half of Meng Wan's exquisite profile. His expression was unreadable, unknown emotions surging in his dark pupils.

"Summoning the Shuntian Prefect's husband—enter the hall!" The eunuch's shrill, lingering call of names shattered the silence of the side hall.

Meng Wan smoothed his outer robe and stepped into the main hall of the Hall of Supreme Harmony with proper reverence.

There were slightly fewer officials in the hall than last year, though not noticeably so. The most conspicuous figure was the Zhongyi Marquis Heir, kneeling in the center of the hall with his back ramrod straight.

As Meng Wan walked to a position slightly ahead and to the side of him, the heir winked and grimaced at Meng Wan. In such a solemn occasion, with the emperor seated high upon the dragon throne, how could Meng Wan possibly have time for casual banter?

Besides, judging by Qin Jiao's appearance, he had clearly angered the emperor and been punished with kneeling. He was the emperor's maternal uncle—who was Meng Wan? Why should he stick his nose in?

Meng Wan pretended not to see him, standing with his head bowed, hands folded into his voluminous sleeves. He slowly bent his knees, his knees touching the imperial kiln's golden bricks, then lowered his upper body, letting his forehead brush against the back of his hands. He repeated the kowtow three times with strict propriety, not daring to make a single mistake.

"Your subject—husband of the Shuntian Prefect, First-rank Dame Meng—humbly wishes His Majesty sacred peace. May the Emperor live ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years."

"Rise."

The emperor's tone from above was calm yet carried an undeniable authority. "Meng Fulang, do you know why I summoned you to the hall?"

Meng Wan stood in the center of the hall, surrounded by the most powerful men in the Yu Kingdom—and that was to say nothing of the one on the throne. The crown prince was the crown prince then; the emperor was the emperor now. Those who couldn't read the room would eventually bring disaster upon themselves. Meng Wan dared not let his contributions to the emperor's ascension go to his head.

He kept his head bowed, his expression slightly tense, his heart beating faster than usual.

After mulling over the emperor's brief words three times, Meng Wan answered cautiously: "Your Majesty's sagacity illuminates like a bright candle; surely there is deep meaning in your words. Your subject is dull-witted and would not presume to guess at Your Majesty's intentions."

The emperor laughed heartily twice. "You've grown rather reserved. The roads you built in Lingnan were excellent—they revitalized the region's livelihood. Such matters should have been the Ministry of Works' responsibility, yet you, a ge, quietly took it upon yourself. If I don't reward you, wouldn't that be doing you wrong?"

"Last year, you elevated the nation's prestige with your painting skills, and the late emperor already granted you the title of First-rank Dame. There's nowhere higher to promote you, which puts me in a difficult position."

Above that would be County Lady or Commandery Princess—titles for imperial clan members. Ennoblement of the imperial clan and conferral of titles upon relatives of court officials were entirely different matters, governed by strict bloodline restrictions rather than merit. Even if Meng Wan had taken a blade for the emperor himself, he could not be made an imperial clansman.

The emperor said this only to emphasize Meng Wan's achievements and show him favor.

After all, Meng Wan had helped the then-crown prince considerably through the relay stations, making him one of "their own." Now that Le Zhengqi, Yi Hongfei (who had reverted to his original surname), Ge Quan, and others had all received rewards, Song Tingzhou's promotion was only a matter of time. Only Meng Wan, being a ge, was harder to handle. Summoning him personally was also a way to let him ask for what he wanted.

Song Tingzhou, who had been seated behind, seized the opportunity to step forward. His long legs carried him to Meng Wan's side, and he bowed to the emperor above. "Your Majesty flatters us. Your subject and my husband, as citizens of the Yu Kingdom, naturally should share the nation's burdens."

Standing beside him, Meng Wan felt his courage return somewhat. Though he still dared not look directly at the emperor's face, he found more words. He said solemnly: "To share Your Majesty's burdens and bring blessings to the people of Yu is the duty of your subject and my husband. We dare not seek additional rewards. Scholars study for ten years to serve the court; soldiers guard the borders for the peace of our homeland. They all act for the greater good. Your subject is merely a humble ge, unable to match the contributions of the esteemed officials who serve Your Majesty. But ge are also citizens of Yu, subjects of Your Majesty. Since we are all subjects, and I cannot serve Your Majesty as these officials do, yet I enjoy the peace and prosperity forged by Your Majesty's tireless efforts—it makes me uneasy. That is why I conceived of establishing relay stations and rebuilding roads..."

"Cough, cough, cough." One official, who had been drinking, choked violently upon hearing this. Seeing Song Tingzhou's gaze shift toward him, he hastily lowered his head in guilt.

Meng Wan's impassioned speech continued: "Your Majesty wishes to reward your subject, but I am truly humbled. The roads were built to facilitate the relay stations, and officials from Ganzhou, Fuzhou, Zhengzhou, and other prefectures all lent their assistance. It is those officials who deserve the foremost credit."

Though Qin Jiao was kneeling, he maintained a leisurely posture and kept his ears open, catching every word of Meng Wan's "self-deprecating" speech. The corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.

He glanced up at the emperor on the dragon throne and saw not displeasure on the imperial countenance, but rather a hint of indulgent amusement.

The emperor's gaze swept across the assembled officials below. Hmph—this was the cream of the nation's talent? Not one of them understood the times as well as a ge. "Where is the Minister of Personnel?"

An elderly man with white hair rose from a position near the front. "Your Majesty, your subject is here."

Looking at his aged, overworked maternal uncle, the emperor could almost feel the man's resentful gaze. He lowered his eyelids and spoke in a deep voice: "Have you noted the officials Meng Fulang mentioned? At the year-end audience, record their merits."

Lord Ran, advanced in years, had been so dizzy from listening to Meng Wan's flattery that he could hardly remember names. Fortunately, the Vice Minister of Personnel seated below him had been taking notes, and fearing he might forget, had even asked a palace attendant for paper and brush.

The emperor was in good spirits and asked one final time: "Meng Fulang, if you remain so modest, I truly won't reward you at all."

Emboldened by Song Tingzhou's presence at his side, Meng Wan finally spoke up. With a humble expression, he said: "Your Majesty's insight is keen, and you can surely perceive your subject's sincere devotion. I truly dare not claim merit or seek rewards, nor would I presume to covet Your Majesty's favor. But I humbly beg Your Majesty to grant me two requests."

The emperor's interest was piqued. "Oh? Let's hear them."

Meng Wan dropped to his knees with a thud. "Your subject playfully established the Songyun College in Lingnan. I would ask Your Majesty to lend a few more artisans from the Guanyu Workshop to teach those children how to make glass."

Glass was precious, reserved exclusively for the imperial family and nobility—commoners were forbidden from using it. Though Meng Wan's words asked for artisans, in truth, he was requesting the democratization of the entire Glaze Workshop, making it accessible to ordinary people.

This matter wasn't exactly huge, but it wasn't trivial either. Some nobles were displeased, unwilling to share the same thing with commoners, while others felt it was harmless.

The Emperor recalled the words Meng Wan had spoken when he was still the Crown Prince. Back then, Meng Wan's praise hadn't been as over-the-top as it was now, and he had been bolder in speech and thought. "I approve. Go on."

Meng Wan's heart leaped with joy, and he pressed on, "The Shijian Courier Station I founded has begun to take shape. However, I often feel stretched thin and can't be everywhere at once. Now that transportation in Lingnan is gradually improving and trade is picking up, the station's scheduling, supply storage, and coordination between various branches all require more precise planning and management."

He took a deep breath. "I wish to bring the Shijian Courier Station under government control, following the system of 'official courier management,' with the prefectures, states, and counties along the route from Lingnan to the capital overseeing its governance—if anyone within the station is negligent, corrupt, or embezzles funds, local authorities shall arrest and punish them according to the 'Courier Law,' without needing to go through me personally. Thereafter, the station's profits shall not be subject to ordinary commercial taxes, but three-tenths shall be paid directly to the national treasury each year."

After this long speech, nearly all the civil officials in the hall looked at Meng Wan with complex expressions. Offering his private property to the court and voluntarily paying three-tenths of the profits directly to the treasury—such boldness and generosity was unexpected from a mere commoner.

Setting aside the matter of his status, an ordinary person summoned to the hall would probably be shaking in their boots, let alone speak so logically and persuasively.

Some secretly admired Meng Wan for his strong sense of duty, setting personal gain aside; others whispered among themselves, speculating whether there was another motive behind his actions. After all, the Shijian Courier Station had become a vital hub connecting Lingnan to the capital, and the stakes involved were far bigger than just three-tenths of the profits.

Some even connected Meng Wan's earlier efforts in building roads and founding academies in Lingnan, vaguely sensing that this seemingly delicate young man's ambitions might far exceed what others imagined—what he sought was not mere wealth and honor, but a more lasting influence.

Standing beside Meng Wan, Song Tingzhou shielded him from some of the stares, then knelt as well before the hall. "Your Majesty, I once discussed with Lord Ran that among the scholars who failed the imperial examinations in past years, many were capable and skilled in writing and calculation. If they were all left in the countryside teaching children, it would be a waste of talent. If we could select those of upright character and appoint them to the Shijian Courier Station as ninth-rank station masters, overseeing document registration, cargo transport, and courier deployment, it would also provide another path for poor scholars."

The two of them were technically asking for rewards, but really they were handing the Emperor money and talent—how could he say no?

He was not his weak-willed father. The mud before his ascension had already been swept away, and now, whether civil or military, all standing in the court were his trusted men.

"This matter is of great consequence; it must be discussed jointly by the ministers after the morning court resumes."

Although the Emperor spoke a perfunctory line, any minister with sense knew the matter was essentially settled.

Sure enough, the Emperor added, "Rise, all of you. Song Aiqing, you have married a fine husband."

He summoned the eunuch bearing edicts. "Though Meng is a titled lady, his road-building efforts in Lingnan have benefited the state and the people, with outstanding merit. After careful consideration, I have decided to grant a special reward—bestowing upon him the title 'Mingrui' as an honorific, with an income of three hundred households, three thousand taels of silver, nine eastern pearls, twenty pieces of white jade, two imperial estates, permission to attend the Empress's birthday banquet annually, exemption from bowing to officials below the rank of governor, and the use of an eight-man palanquin decorated with vermilion lacquer and entwined lotus patterns."

After the eunuch read the edict, he descended with it and handed it to Meng Wan.

"Meng Fulang, accept the edict?" Eunuch Xi said with a smile.

Meng Wan knelt again to receive the edict, and seeing that there was nothing more for him, he withdrew respectfully with Song Tingzhou.

The Emperor had not said he would send someone to escort him back, so Meng Wan naturally walked with Song Tingzhou and sat down beside him.