Chapter 62

Xue Jin'an had only made that casual remark about opening a shop because he saw how seriously they took selling board games yet completely lacked any proper method. He had not harbored any expectations of receiving feedback or a return.

However, Cui Zui and the others did not think that way.

While Xue Jin'an went to recharge (eat), Cui Zui, Fulu, Shouquan, and Lingzhi exchanged simultaneous, knowing glances. With tacit understanding, they avoided the rest of the crowd (primarily Xuan Eleven) to discuss the matter in private. To ensure complete privacy, Lingzhi even ordered Fuling to stand guard outside.

"Do not let a single mosquito in," Lingzhi instructed.

"Understood." Fuling felt no sense of being excluded from the small inner circle and executed her assignment with utmost dedication.

Inside the room, the discussion was carried out mainly by the three of them. Shouquan, being very sensible, took out paper and brush to help record the key points so that nothing would be forgotten during the subsequent review.

Fulu was the first to speak, unable to contain his eagerness, his excitement plainly visible on his face.

"If this board game parlor is truly established, with people constantly coming and going, it might just be an excellent place to gather intelligence." Fulu was now Xue Jin'an's ears. Through his unremitting efforts during this period, he had transformed into the palace's living encyclopedia of gossip. At times, even Lingzhi was astonished at the sources of his information—for instance, the intelligence that the Emperor had recently grown somewhat devout toward gods and Buddhas.

Since ancient times, Confucianism had been the instrument by which emperors consolidated their rule. Yet, there was actually another organization that served a similar purpose, and that was Buddhism. As a foreign sect, Buddhism had successfully managed to rival native Taoism, and in many dynasties, it even managed to suppress other schools to become deeply favored by those in power. The reason lay in the fact that, through centuries of evolution, Buddhism had become exceedingly well-suited for those in power to brainwash the lower classes.

Buddhism advocated for the afterlife, whereas Taoism placed greater emphasis on the present life. Buddhism claimed that current hardships and sufferings were merely a means to accumulate blessings for the next life, and that one should simply endure them. Taoism, on the other hand, proclaimed that wrongs must be avenged and grudges repaid—that if a dog bit him, he would stew the dog, or else his Daoist heart would become unstable and hinder his cultivation.

With such a contrast, it was not hard to understand which one the rulers of feudal dynasties, who favored policies of keeping the people ignorant and herding them like sheep, would prefer.

Yet, while it might aid in governance, it was by no means a good thing if the ruler actually played along and deeply believed in it himself. Historically, emperors who fell into blind devotion to religious sects were mostly mediocre and incompetent monarchs.

Although the current Emperor's political performance was somewhat overly benevolent and weak, he could not yet be called a foolish ruler. In fact, if he maintained this governing philosophy, provided that no extremely wicked villains appeared among his court ministers, no major errors occurred in state affairs, and he was lucky enough to avoid major natural disasters during his reign, he might even be granted the posthumous title of a benevolent emperor upon his death.

Therefore, even if the Emperor truly believed in these things, he would never let such news leak out, especially now that the Grand Empress Dowager was already somewhat dissatisfied with him.

The facts indeed bore this out. Lingzhi had heard no whisper of these rumors, indicating that the matter had not even spread out of the Qianyuan Palace. To verify the authenticity of the information, Lingzhi had deliberately let slip a hint to Xuan Eleven, and Xuan Eleven's reaction precisely suggested that the news was likely true.

Lingzhi could not help but be astonished, and because of this, she thoroughly acknowledged Fulu's capability in gathering intelligence. She had even pondered in her heart just how formidable Fulu must be to manage to plant people inside the Qianyuan Palace when it was currently guarded like an iron bucket. Such a person truly needed to be firmly reeled in; otherwise, the consequences of a betrayal by him would be unthinkable.

If Fulu knew what she was thinking, he would certainly have smiled wryly and said, "Elder sister, you give me far too much credit."

Far from planting agents inside the Qianyuan Palace, Fulu couldn't even get close to its perimeter. To put it accurately, the people he used to gather intelligence were merely bottom-tier individuals whom no one would ever notice. Currently, the most eye-catching among them was probably the person granted an exception to stay and do odd jobs in the Imperial Hospital.

Because of this, Fulu had honed the skill of unearthing major intelligence from trivial, seemingly useless details.

He only knew that the Emperor had recently grown somewhat devout toward gods and Buddhism entirely because Chu Wenwan was dead and the Buddhist shrine in the Yihe Palace had been torn down; yet, on this month's palace procurement requisition list, the quantity of incense ordered had not decreased but rather increased.

Fulu sensed something amiss and sent someone to investigate closely, discovering that most of these extra joss sticks were sandalwood, and high-grade ones purchased directly from temples at that.

Thus, Fulu formed his hypothesis. Telling Lingzhi was merely meant to help him verify it, and facts proved that his guess had been entirely correct.

In short, Fulu had transformed into a qualified intelligence merchant. Upon hearing the idea of opening a shop, his very first thought naturally was that it would become a stable source of intelligence.

Lingzhi agreed with Fulu's idea and simultaneously offered her own perspective: "If those noble clans and aristocratic families are managed well, they might eventually become a pillar of support for His Highness. His Highness cannot stay in the Zhaoyang Palace for the rest of his life; sooner or later, he will have to step out. As the legitimate imperial son, His Highness is bound to face attacks and suppression, so we must make preparations early."

Having steeped herself in power for many years, the Grand Empress Dowager remained a politically astute individual even in her retirement, as could be seen from her summons of court matrons to witness the cremation of the sarira. Lingzhi, having emerged from under Lu Bingzhu's command, naturally carried the distinct flavor of the Cining Palace in her thoughts and actions.

Lingzhi and Fulu were thoroughly satisfied with each other's proposals. Bouncing ideas back and forth, they basically finalized a rough plan, and then simultaneously cast their gazes toward Cui Zui, who had remained silent all this time: "What do you think? Is there anything that needs supplementing?"

Shouquan immediately handed over the neatly written manuscript he had compiled.

Cui Zui, who merely had a vague sense that opening a shop could be exploited for some advantage but had not yet figured out the specifics: "..."

Good heavens, were the eunuchs and palace maids around his master all such formidable figures? He felt completely outmatched! Fortunately, he had already abandoned the civil path for the martial one. Phew, close call.

With a profound sense of relief, Cui Zui took the manuscript. Upon reading it, he discovered he wasn't entirely useless after all; at least he had real-world experience mingling outside, read extensively, and possessed a broad scope of knowledge. Picking up a writing brush, he directly circled several points and began asking about ambiguous details.

The three of them discussed for nearly the entire afternoon, and Shouquan wrote for the entire afternoon as well, effectively producing a complete and comprehensive proposal.

Through the discussion, Cui Zui had fully grasped the importance of this mission. The moment he thought that this was the very first task his master had entrusted to him, he swelled with grand ambitions, and his long-dormant political aspirations were reignited.

Although he was currently only a Licentiate scholar, the person he served was still young and far from the point of formally recruiting political aides. Moreover, he had lowered his own generation by acknowledging the other as his master. Yet, as the saying goes, beauty lies in the bone rather than the skin; the same logic applied here. What he was doing fit the definition of a political aide—who could say he hadn't achieved his heartfelt wish?

Cui Zui took this matter to heart, treating it as his inaugural assignment and as a test from his master. Intent on executing the task to absolute perfection, he rushed out of the palace immediately, departing without even bidding farewell to Xue Jin'an.

Watching his figure vanish in a flurry of haste beyond the gates of the Zhaoyang Palace, Xue Jin'an raised an eyebrow slightly: "Just like that?" Did he not plan to ask for the funds to open the shop?

Cui Zui genuinely had no intention of dipping into Xue Jin'an's private treasury. Or rather, in his perception, his master was an unfavored imperial prince living a hard life—where would he possibly get money? When he volunteered to take on this task, part of his motivation was precisely the thought of advancing the funds for Xue Jin'an.

Of course, Cui Zui himself didn't have much money either. The Cui family scarcely regarded him, especially after he repeatedly failed the provincial examinations. The silver he used to travel to the capital had been earned himself by working as a bodyguard escorting caravans.

However, Cui Zhuo, the Jiangnan provincial top scorer who held the highest promise of achieving the metropolitan top rank and served as the apple of the Cui family's eye, *did* have money! And failing that, wasn't there Cui Pengfei? With a single word from Patriarch Cui, the entire wealth of the Cui family was his for the taking.

Yet, barring absolute necessity, Cui Zui would not approach Cui Pengfei regarding this matter. The reason was simple: Cui Zui secretly intended to pull Cui Zhuo into the Seventh Prince's faction. Cui Zhuo possessed a somewhat proud and innocent disposition, worthy of being described as bright and lofty, with a spine of unyielding iron. He would make fine material for an upright censor, but he utterly lacked the aptitude for the dark intrigues of officialdom.

At the same time, Cui Zui had to admit that Cui Zhuo's talent and ability were exceptionally brilliant, having fully inherited their grandfather's true legacy.

As the saying goes, household water should not flow to foreign fields. Since Cui Zui had already entered the Seventh Prince's camp, upon spotting such fine timber, he naturally wanted to haul it into his own bowl.

However, he dared not let his grandfather discover this ambition. While his grandfather did appreciate the Seventh Prince—every time he looked over the Seventh Prince's examination papers, he would marvel at how unprecedented and brilliantly dazzling they were—appreciation did not mean his grandfather was willing to stake the entire Cui family's fortune on the Seventh Prince.

Do not put all your eggs in one basket; this was the truth his grandfather had learned from the Grand Empress Dowager, and it was the empirical wisdom that allowed him to successfully retire from officialdom as the sole surviving grand secretary who preserved his family's influence.

Regarding Cui Zhuo, his grandfather probably desired him to become a purely pro-regime loyalist—a pure official who obeyed only the Emperor's commands and took no sides, thereby safeguarding the Cui family whenever court politics underwent further upheaval.

Cui Zui, however, felt this approach might not work. Not because his grandfather's logic was flawed, but because the Emperor up above might be problematic.

Previously, Cui Zui's grievances were directed mostly at the corruption of court officials; he felt the Emperor might simply be overly benevolent, which was forgivable. After all, harsh governance was bound to be followed by lenient governance—that was the inevitable trend. Coupled with the Emperor's desire to break free from the Grand Empress Dowager's influence and demonstrate his own political stance, going to the opposite extreme was understandable.

Take the burning of the sarira for Chu Wenwan, for instance. Cui Zui had found it exceptionally gratifying. Yet, viewed through the lens of a great aristocratic clan like the Cui family, he could also see that the Grand Empress Dowager had been excessively ruthless. Thus, the Emperor, who attempted to bestow grace upon Chu Wenwan, stood out all the more for his benevolence and harmony.

The deeper the gentry families loathed and resented the Grand Empress Dowager and the Seventh Prince, the closer they would naturally lean toward the Emperor.

Yet ever since playing that board game with Xue Jin'an, Cui Zui's perception of the Emperor had grown exceedingly complex, making his retrospective view of the recent incident rather subtle.

Well, to use Xue Jin'an's words: Your Majesty, how utterly useless you are.

Though such a thought was horribly rebellious, Cui Zui could not help it. He believed anyone who witnessed the Emperor's combat capability in that game would generate similar sentiments.

All in all, Cui Zui had no intention of disclosing this matter to his grandfather. Knowing that if Cui Zhuo learned the Seventh Prince was behind it, he would surely consult their grandfather, Cui Zui simply decided to tell Cui Zhuo only that he wanted to do business in the capital.

Ever since arriving in the capital, Cui Zhuo had harbored deep anxieties on behalf of his cousin Cui Zui, especially since Cui Zui had long ceased accompanying their grandfather to social gatherings. Yet Cui Zhuo also knew that given his own status, questioning Cui Zui about this might cause misunderstandings, making the other suspect he was mocking and ridiculing him.

Thus, Cui Zhuo had endured, waiting for Cui Zui to bring it up himself so they could talk through the night. Instead, the Cui Zui he waited for arrived with an expression of boundless excitement, opening his mouth only to announce he wanted to go into business.