Ten days had passed since news of the Ningxia uprising reached the Capital.
During those ten days, messengers wove through the Capital's residences in an endless stream, and candles burned in every government office well into the night.
Some plotted impeachment memorials, some discussed memorial drafting, some dispatched men westward, and some shut their doors on snowy nights to whisper with their allies.
Now a single debate before the throne would decide the fate of half the Northwest.
The twenty-first day of the twelfth month, the Hall of Supreme Harmony.
The officials stood in their ranks, utterly silent, as though facing a vast abyss.
The day's debate was called "military farmland," but military farmland was merely its surface.
What they truly contested-Zhou Quan's appointment, the land clearance policy, Wei Nisheng's foundations, Shen Duan's authority, Kou Yuan's influence, and the edge of the Upright Officials-all hinged on this debate.
Moreover, Ningxia's flames had already burned the house of land clearance. Once news of the uprising reached court, whoever struck first would hold the advantage; whoever spoke afterward would face danger.
Thus every official in both ranks had a draft tucked into his sleeve and a barbed argument ready in his heart. They waited only for the Son of Heaven to open his golden mouth, then each would deploy his own arts: impeaching or defending, attacking or delaying.
"My ministers!" From the Imperial Throne, Emperor Jing of Zhou spoke in his usual even tone.
"In Ningxia's land clearance, veteran soldiers resisted over their fields. The mutiny has been quelled.
Today, we shall debate before the throne whether the military farmland policy should proceed or stop."
"Let each of you state his view."
His words had barely fallen when Kou Yuan, at the head of the Ministry of Revenue's ranks, stepped