Emperor Chengde felt a headache coming on, his expression shifting between anger and uncertainty. He cast a meaningful glance at An Sheng, a strange glint flickering in his eyes, before lowering his gaze. The entire hall fell silent.
Grand Secretary Tan’s eyelids twitched. It seemed that His Majesty had tacitly accepted this—this wouldn’t do! Frowning, he pondered for a moment before speaking again: “Let us assume what Lord An says is true. But what about Pang Zhenxiang of the Ministry of War, a mere Vice Director of the fifth rank? How do you explain that, Lord An? Do you still dare to claim you have no selfish motives?”
An Sheng suddenly looked embarrassed, a flush of shame crossing his face at being exposed. But soon, he regained his composure, put on a thick-skinned grin at Emperor Chengde, and admitted bluntly: “Your Majesty, this minister did indeed have selfish motives in choosing Vice Director Pang.”
Emperor Chengde looked up, only to see An Sheng stiffening his neck, looking shamelessly defiant. “A few days ago, the Imperial Intelligence Bureau had dealings with Vice Director Pang of the Ministry of War. Naturally, this minister knows that Vice Director Pang is the legitimate grandson of the Duke of Anguo, and his father is the renowned General of the Border Pacification Army. To bring along a noble scion with such a distinguished background—at the very least, his presence will strike some fear into the officialdom of Lindong.”
An Sheng’s eyes lit up as he continued: “And with Grand Secretary Tan’s grandson, and His Majesty’s own grand-nephew, there’s certainly plenty of prestige. I must say, looking at these officials now, this selection is truly well done—perfectly chosen, perfectly suited to my wishes.”
Emperor Chengde: …
Grand Secretary Tan was almost enraged by An Sheng’s smug, self-congratulatory expression.
“You!” He raised a trembling finger at An Sheng, as if about to say something, but his gaze swept over Emperor Chengde’s placid expression—so calm, as if everything was under control. A thought crossed his mind: Could these inner workings be part of His Majesty’s design as well? At that, he stopped himself mid-sentence, swallowing the words that had been on the tip of his tongue, his aged face flushing a mottled red and purple.
An Sheng smirked as he met Grand Secretary Tan’s humiliated expression, feeling immensely pleased. His eyes narrowed in barely concealed provocation. “What, Grand Secretary Tan thinks this official is wrong?”
Grand Secretary Tan: …
Finally, Emperor Chengde spoke up: “Enough. The list is settled as it is.”
“It’s getting late. Grand Secretary Tan, you are advanced in years; return to your residence to rest. An Sheng, stay behind. I have further matters to discuss.”
At these words, Grand Secretary Tan’s face soured even further, shifting colors several times. At last, he drew a deep breath. “I thank Your Majesty for your consideration. This minister takes his leave.”
The moment Grand Secretary Tan left, An Sheng dropped to his knees with a heavy thud—the sound so loud that even Emperor Chengde’s brows twitched.
Emperor Chengde said helplessly, “What are you doing now?”
By now, An Sheng had shed all the arrogance he had just shown in front of Grand Secretary Tan. His face was a mess of panic and shame as he knocked his head heavily against the floor, pouring out his true feelings: “Your Majesty, this minister is deeply ashamed. In choosing these candidates, I indeed acted out of selfishness. As the commander of the Imperial Intelligence Bureau, I have made many enemies in the court and am not well liked. This time, I deliberately selected officials who are the core-trained descendants of noble families—so that every faction will be entangled and none can stand idly by to watch my troubles, nor stab me in the back from the shadows.”
“More importantly, after much deliberation, I believe this arrangement actually serves the purpose of this mission. These officials come from the empire’s most vital ministers, nobles, and gentry families. They are well-versed in how the various ministries operate. They’ve seen all sorts of open and covert struggles, deceit and intrigue. In terms of social skills and interpersonal relationships, these men have been groomed since childhood to be tactful and diplomatic—perfectly capable. I trust them.”
Emperor Chengde was silent for a moment before letting out a low sigh. His gaze grew deep and penetrating as he spoke slowly: “I understand your concerns. It’s fine. This arrangement may not be a bad thing. Since I have appointed you as imperial commissioner, of course I trust you.”
An Sheng was instantly moved, tears of gratitude welling up. He kowtowed several more times heavily. “Your Majesty’s grace is so profound. This minister shall shatter his bones and grind his body to repay your kindness!”
Emperor Chengde’s expression softened. He nodded with satisfaction. “Alright, rise now.”
An Sheng stood, then hesitated. He looked uncertainly at Emperor Chengde. “Perhaps this minister should remove Director Zhou of the Ministry of Rites from the list and replace him with someone else?”
Emperor Chengde shot him a look of mild exasperation, though his voice wasn’t truly irritated. “I can see how much thought you’ve put into this selection—you’ve even calculated in me and the Grand Princess. Let it be as it is. If you single him out now, how would you justify it to the others? But Xiang’er has been spoiled by my Grand Princess since childhood. A trip to gain experience won’t do him harm. Keep an eye on him along the way.”
An Sheng immediately grinned, utterly shameless. “Rest assured, Your Majesty! This minister will take good care of Junior Lord Zhou.”
Emperor Chengde: …
At that moment, a eunuch approached An Sheng holding a wooden chest, stepping softly to his side.
An Sheng looked questioningly at Emperor Chengde.
Emperor Chengde waved his hand, unwilling to explain further. “See for yourself when you get back. You may take your leave.”
A glint of keen intelligence sparkled in An Sheng’s eyes. He immediately knelt to express his thanks. “This minister thanks Your Majesty for your boundless grace. I take my leave!”
The An Residence.
“Husband, how dare you dodge! Why did you say such things about Amei? Just wait until I pinch you!”
Suddenly, a sweet, coquettish cry came from outside the hall—so loud that it made even An Gui, who was inside, raise his eyebrows.
Then, the coaxing, apologetic voice of An Sheng, his adopted son, reached An Gui’s ears.
“Oh, dear, this husband knows he was wrong. Madam, I didn’t mean it that way,” he said softly.
“Yes, you did! Hmph! I’m going to find my godfather to settle this!”
The words had barely left her mouth when An Gui watched as Amei came running in from outside, huffing and puffing.
“Godfather!”
Amei plopped down into a chair beside An Gui and began pouting and complaining: “Godfather, you need to have a talk with him! He was talking badly about me!”
An Gui’s gaze fell on An Sheng, who had just stepped through the door. His brow furrowed deeply as he felt a headache coming on. “What are you two lovebirds up to again?”
Amei first shot a glare at An Sheng, then let out a hmph and turned her head away, pouting and whining pitifully: “Husband said I don’t treat him well. He said women are fickle and changeable. He’s… he’s wronging me!”
“Godfather, you have to stand up for me!”
An Gui cast an impatient glance at An Sheng and then asked Amei, “What exactly happened?”
An Sheng had already sat down beside Amei, putting an arm around her shoulder and gently apologizing. “Oh, my little ancestor, I really didn’t mean it like that. I just said it offhandedly.”
“I truly was wrong.”
Amei turned her head away and ignored him, beginning to vividly narrate the incident to An Gui.
It had started when the court allocated the supplies for the upcoming journey the next day. Amei casually ordered Wu Da to go gather and organize them.
An Sheng, watching, had suddenly muttered a teasing remark: “They say women are fickle. The last time I traveled to the border, my lady personally took care of everything. Now you’re so perfunctory—does that mean you don’t care about your husband anymore?”
Amei was left speechless…
And then she refused to let it go!
The last time her husband didn’t take her along, it was to the borderlands—a bitterly cold and harsh place. She had been reluctant to let him go, so of course she had prepared everything for him herself. But now they were traveling together, and Lindong was in the south; this season was hardly freezing. What was there left for her to prepare?
Right now, she was chasing An Sheng around, scolding him. Though she knew in her heart that her husband was deliberately teasing her, she still refused to let it go easily.
An Gui furrowed his brow. His cloudy eyes fixed on the two of them for a long moment with an expression that spoke volumes, then slowly stood up and said to the servant attending nearby, “Go fetch a wooden rod.”
“Yes, Old Master!”
A Mei let out a sound of surprise, curious. “Godfather, what do you need a wooden rod for?”
An Sheng’s eyes flickered with a trace of light, the corners of his lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
Then they heard An Gui speak to A Mei with a perfectly straight face: “A Mei, you wanted me to settle things for you, didn’t you? Don’t worry. Since Sheng’er has upset you, I’ll give him a beating to vent your anger.”
This time, it was A Mei’s turn to be dumbfounded. She blinked blankly, as if she hadn’t quite processed what was happening.
An Gui turned to An Sheng and said, “Sheng’er, if I beat you, do you accept it?”
An Sheng immediately nodded, his attitude sincere, with the air of someone ready and even eager to be punished. “I accept it willingly. Since I angered my wife, I deserve to be punished. As long as it helps my lady calm down.”
An Gui was silent.
Just as An Gui hesitated, the servant quickly brought the wooden rod over. An Sheng promptly stood up.
An Gui picked up the rod, a look of exasperated disappointment on his face, and gritted his teeth. “You boy, you’ve certainly made something of yourself.”
With that, he raised his hand and prepared to swing the rod at An Sheng.
“No!”
A Mei suddenly let out a sharp cry. She leaped up from her chair and spread her arms to block An Sheng.
“Don’t hit my husband! Godfather, I—I’m not angry anymore. Really, I’m not. Don’t hit him! If you really beat him, then I’ll truly be angry!”
An Gui was silent.
