Rong An

The Office of Transmission, known as the Silver Terrace, was said to be an unimportant office, yet it oversaw the documents sent to the imperial capital from every region. The grievances and unlawful acts reported in them were too numerous to count.

That position gave its holder a grip on the throat through which matters reached the emperor's ears. Wen Hong would only put someone he trusted there.

"It seems Wang Quan intends for his son to succeed him."

Zhao Huiluan chuckled. She moved the tip of her brush over the slip of paper in the middle and circled the name "Wang Wenhua."

"In recent years, His Majesty has been especially fond of Daoist ceremonial verses. The ones he has praised most are Grand Secretary Wen's. Most likely, they came from this young man's hand."

"He has talent."

Zhao Huiluan was generous with her praise, but she drew a vertical stroke of ink from top to bottom, crossing out Wang Wenhua's name.

"What about him?"

Zhao Huiluan placed a dot of ink on the slip to her right.

The name "Wang He" was written on it.

Xiao Qinglan said, "Wang He comes from Yanguan City in Jiangnan. He was born to a humble family. He is devoted to the pursuit of rank and fame and strives to advance."

"Oh? Did he pay his respects to his honored teacher?"

"After scholars pass the metropolitan examination, they all pay their respects to the chief examiner as their honored teacher and cultivate ties with those who passed in the same year. It is an ancient custom."

Zhao Huiluan remembered. "This year's chief examiner was the Chief Censor, Xie Shangxiu. I recall that he and the Wen Faction are at odds, aren't they?"

"Your Highness has an excellent memory."

Xiao Qinglan said, "The door Tanhua Wang paid his respects at was not Censor Xie's, but the Wen residence's."

"Yesterday, three quarters into the hour of the rooster, he arrived at the Wen residence in a small, green-topped sedan chair."

Zhao Huiluan nodded inwardly.

"I have heard as much. Grand Secretary Wen's students are everywhere. Ever since he lost his son in middle age, he has had adopted sons aplenty throughout the realm."

As she spoke, she crossed out "Wang He" as well.

Chapter 13: Rong An

Zhao Huiluan set down her brush, her gaze falling on the only slip of paper left.

Rong An—she had known something about him in her previous life.

Unexpectedly, however, Xiao Qinglan said, "Zhuangyuan Rong An is not the biological

son

of the Rong family of Jiangling."

"What?" Zhao Huiluan was deeply shocked.

Xiao Qinglan seemed quite surprised by such a strong reaction from her, but he did not show it and continued.

"This is no secret in Jiangling."

"Zhuangyuan Rong's ancestral home should be somewhere around Tongren Prefecture. It is said that when he was seven, disaster struck his hometown, and his family fled the famine, unable to fill their stomachs."

"To find a way to survive, he wrote his own contract of sale and sold himself as a son to a wealthy family in Jiangling. He left the ten taels of fine silver he received to his parents, as repayment for the gift of life."

Zhao Huiluan stared blankly for a long while, then suddenly broke into a smile.

"He's an interesting one. What do people in Jiangling say about him?"

Xiao Qinglan shook his head. "It was twelve years ago, after all. He was bright from a young age and earned some renown in Jiangling. Moreover, he served his adoptive parents with the utmost devotion and filial piety, so there was only praise for him, and no criticism."

"And after he passed the examination?"

"After yesterday's procession through the streets ended, he visited Censor Xie's residence. Before long, he returned to the house he rented in the West Ward and read through the night."

Zhao Huiluan could not help raising a brow.

He really was a bookworm!

She stuffed the slips bearing "Wang Wenhua" and "Wang He" into the incense burner and burned them, then asked Xiao Qinglan mildly, "Is there something else you have to say?"

Only one slip of paper remained on the desk.

Xiao Qinglan withdrew his gaze without betraying a thing, took a small sandalwood box from his belt, and presented it.

"This is..."

Zhao Huiluan took a delicate little gold hairpin from it.

"Careful, Your Highness."

Seeing that Zhao Huiluan was about to touch the mechanism on the head of the hairpin, Xiao Qinglan hurriedly warned her.

"As Your Highness requested, five poisoned silver needles are concealed inside the hairpin, each as fine as an ox hair. This servant has tested it. This concealed weapon lacks range at a distance, and its use is easily hampered at close quarters. Around five paces is most suitable."

"This poison..."

Xiao Qinglan recalled Zhao Huiluan once telling him, "I only want the deadliest poison. As long as it can kill when the crucial moment comes, that will do." He added:

"One drop in the blood seals the throat."

Zhao Huiluan was very satisfied. She put the hairpin back in the box and snapped the lid shut.

"Jingzhi."

She looked up at Xiao Qinglan. At her voice, he bent his back a little more reverently.

"You tested it? On whom? A prisoner in the Eastern Depot's prison, or one of those five from yesterday?"

Her voice was clear and cold, without the slightest trace of feeling.

"This servant is guilty."

Xiao Qinglan knelt and prostrated himself on the floor.

Zhao Huiluan looked away from him, folded the slip on the desk twice, and put it away. "Xiao Qinglan, I will not punish you."

"Back then, you asked me whether I wanted a trusted confidant. What is a trusted confidant? Someone who obeys my commands alone. Right or wrong, without asking why, they obey me."

"This servant knows his error."

"I could save you from that filthy place and raise you ninety thousand li high. I can also send you back to destitution in a single day. Do you remember that?"

"This servant will remember."

Zhao Huiluan lowered her eyes to the palace attendant prostrated at her feet and finally sighed.

"You may go back."

"Yes. This servant takes his leave."

Zhao Huiluan left the room and went to the flower trellis in the southeast corner.

She lay down in a reclining chair, the flower-laden branches casting mottled shadows across her face.

She closed her eyes, and the slip of paper in her hand grew hot in waves.

All these years, she had understood one thing.

If she wanted to change the ending of her previous life, she had to possess power—not merely the authority of a princess, but a force capable of contending with the Wen Faction, the Grand Secretariat, the court officials, and even her imperial father and uncle.

That meant she needed her own people at court.

But what kind of people should she choose to serve her?

Most of the court belonged to the Wen Faction, and how could the pure faction stand by and watch a princess from the inner palace meddle in politics?

Since taking Xiao Qinglan into her service, she had found nothing wrong with employing people who lacked a foothold.

Precisely because they had no foothold, they were easy to control and obedient when promised benefits. And when she associated with people who had no foothold, others would not grow suspicious.

But humble-born men like Wang He were fiercely ambitious, and their first choice was to join the Wen Faction.