The Nine Gates Commander's Residence.
An official entered the study. He was the Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites.
"Lord Wang!"
Wang Ziteng invited him to sit, poured the tea himself, then asked without preamble:
"Vice Minister Qiu, has the succession to the title been settled?"
It would be either Baoyu or Jia Zheng.
Although a title bestowed on Jia Zheng would sooner or later pass to Baoyu, that "sooner or later" left room for complications. Only with it safely in his pocket could he enjoy its benefits.
Vice Minister Qiu smiled.
"Put your mind at ease, Lord Wang. The Retired Emperor informed the Hanlin Academy and the Ministry of Rites long ago. His elder brother will be granted a viscountcy in recognition of his service, hereditary in perpetuity."
Wang Ziteng brightened, yet deliberately sighed.
"My nephew still cannot accept the terrible news. He cries himself half to death all day long. Perhaps the court's grant of a title will help him pull himself together, strive to better himself, and enter official service through the imperial examinations."
Vice Minister Qiu nodded with a smile, then asked in puzzlement:
"For some reason, Director Shen, who oversees the funeral rites, actually crossed Jia Huan's name off the list."
Wang Ziteng suddenly frowned.
This was far too unusual!
Yet the men he had sent to watch the coffin along its route reported that it was almost in the Capital Region.
The court had actually canceled the funeral rites?
Had the little bastard committed some monstrous offense before dying and enraged the emperor?
Almost instantly, Wang Ziteng's expression grew grave.
If there would not even be a funeral, how could there be a grant of nobility?
Just then.
His confidant pushed open the door, his face clouded with gloom. He glanced at