Chapter 39 (Seeking Follow-up Reads) I Have My Own Qilin Son

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The palace examination had scarcely ended when Zhang Maoze went to the Ministry of Rites and copied out every detail of Zhao Han’s record.

As soon as the candidates arrived in the capital to sit for the metropolitan examination, officials of the Ministry of Rites would conduct a thorough verification of their identities.

This included records of their family lines for three generations, their ancestral origins, their ages, and the dates and locations of the examinations through which they had advanced from licentiate to provincial graduate.

“Zhao Han, not yet granted a courtesy name, childhood name Han-ge, nineteen years old, born on the twenty-sixth day of the seventh month between seven and nine in the morning. Maternal family: the Hu clan… Father: Zhao Shouzhen…”

Zhang Maoze studied the register closely, and once again his heart was thrown into turmoil.

A moment later, he folded the record neatly, tucked it into his robe, and returned to attend the Emperor as though nothing had happened.

The Hall of Literary Glory was where the Emperor reviewed memorials.

At present, Zhao Zhen was concentrating on the examination papers of the successful candidates. From time to time, he nodded, a look of satisfaction crossing his face.

“This answer is excellent. It is reasoned and well supported, grounded in reality, and every proposal is practical.”

“Yu Sixian—is he a member of the Yu family?”

Han Zhang, seated below, nodded. “Replying to Your Majesty, he is indeed the distant nephew of Grand Preceptor Yu.”

Grand Preceptor Yu of the Yu family had served as chief minister under three emperors, and his former students and associates in office could be found throughout the realm.

He had four sons. His second son had died young, while the third and fourth sons were indifferent to fame and wealth, preferring poetry and refinement. Only the eldest had entered officialdom through the imperial examinations; he currently served in the Ministry of Revenue.

“So Grand Councilor Yu has raised another capable young man!”

The Emperor smiled, then turned his gaze to Zhao Han’s examination paper.

“I have considered the matter several times. The titles of top laureate and third laureate should be chosen between these two.”

Han Zhang nodded. “Your Majesty is correct. To speak frankly, Grand Councilor Shen and I reached the same conclusion earlier.”

“It seems my judgment is still sound.”

“Since their scholarship is so evenly matched, let us decide the matter by their appearance.”

The title of top laureate was a recognition of learning, while that of third laureate was a dual affirmation of both scholarship and appearance.

Compared with the top laureate, the third laureate was often the more popular figure.

Standing to one side, Zhang Maoze’s eyes shifted slightly. Beneath his broad sleeves, his fingers twisted restlessly together. His lips parted several times, only to press tightly shut again.

Leaning back against the imperial throne, Zhao Zhen gazed out the window, carefully recalling the faces of the two men.

Yu Sixian was twenty-seven; Zhao Han was only nineteen.

One had an ordinary appearance, with nothing remarkable about his features. He walked, sat, and carried himself like any other man; once lost in a crowd, he would be impossible to find again.

The other had a clear and handsome face, a dignified bearing, swordlike brows, and bright, starry eyes—a figure of refined elegance, like an orchid or a jade tree.

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By comparison, everyone already knew into whose hands the title of third laureate would fall.

“Strange. Why do I feel that this third laureate carries with him such an overwhelming sense of familiarity…”

After murmuring this to himself, the Emperor picked up his vermilion brush and wrote three bold, sweeping characters on Zhao Han’s examination paper: “Third Laureate.”

Seeing this, Han Zhang respectfully cupped his hands.

“Your Majesty’s wisdom shines like the sun, penetrating all things and seeing to the farthest reaches. I shall now go with the officials of the Ministry of Rites to arrange the rankings and make them public tomorrow morning.”

With that, he bowed deeply once more before slowly departing the Hall of Literary Glory.

Zhao Zhen immediately turned his gaze toward Zhang Maoze.

The two had been together for many years, and Zhang Maoze had now become the person the Emperor trusted most.

“Maoze, Minister Han has left, and there is no one else here. We have accompanied each other for decades. Whatever you have to say, speak freely.”

Zhang Maoze’s expression was grave. After hesitating again and again, he stepped forward and knelt directly before Zhao Zhen.

“This old servant has an important matter to report to Your Majesty.”

“But it concerns a matter of the greatest consequence. Men must first be dispatched in secret to investigate it thoroughly.”

Zhao Zhen raised his brows and fixed his blazing gaze upon Zhang Maoze, who was kneeling before him. In a gentle voice, he said, “What could possibly make you so cautious? Rise and speak.”

Zhang Maoze drew a deep breath, took Zhao Han’s personal history from inside his robe, and presented it to the Emperor with both hands.

“Please examine it, Your Majesty.”

Zhao Zhen accepted it, his eyes filled with confusion, and scanned the document carefully.

A moment later, his expression changed dramatically, and he could not help recalling an event buried for many years.

In the autumn of the second year of the Jingyou era, he had traveled incognito through Jiangnan. When passing through Yangzhou, he had happened by chance to meet a merchant’s daughter named Hu Wanrong.

She possessed such graceful beauty that anyone who saw her would forget the vulgar world. Young and impetuous at the time, Zhao Zhen had assumed the name Zhao Shouzhen, claiming to be a silk merchant from Bianjing, and gone boating with her.

After spending one night together, he had intended to take her back to Bianjing and then reveal his true identity.

But the merchant’s daughter had insisted on remaining in Yangzhou, saying that her elderly father needed someone to support him. Just then, the Little Empress, Empress Yang of the Zhanghui reign, had fallen gravely ill, leaving him no choice but to hurry back to Bianjing day and night.

The only person who knew of this affair was his personal eunuch, Zhang Maoze.

“Zhao Han… Zhao Han…”

“When our passion was at its height, I told Wanrong that if she bore me a son, his name should belong to the Zhao generation.”

“I never imagined that she truly gave birth to a son for me!”

As he spoke, Zhao Zhen’s brows drew tightly together. His knuckles tapped unconsciously against the table, and his voice carried a barely restrained excitement.

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He had once had three princes, yet every one of them had died mysteriously before reaching the age of three.

Over the years, his health had steadily declined, and the matter of having no son had kept him tossing sleeplessly through the night.

Meanwhile, the officials at court submitted memorial after memorial, urging him to appoint a crown prince without delay and establish the foundation of the state.

Gradually, his fixation on passing the throne to his own son had faded.

Just as he had recently begun considering adopting a nephew from among the imperial clan, he had never imagined that Heaven would send him a son of his own flesh and blood.

Not only had the boy lived to nearly twenty, he was handsome and dignified, richly gifted in scholarship, and had passed the palace examination as the third laureate at his very first attempt.

“I… I truly am not dreaming, am I?”

Zhao Zhen clenched both fists, still gazing at Zhang Maoze in disbelief.

Zhang Maoze was likewise overcome with emotion. Seeing the Emperor’s eyes redden, he said in a trembling voice, “Your Majesty, this is no dream. The third laureate of this year’s examination is none other than Your Majesty’s own son!”

“Good! Good! Good!”

“I shall issue an edict at once, bring him back to acknowledge his ancestry, and immediately make him Crown Prince!”

“Let all those ministers who clamor every day for me to adopt a nephew see that I already have a heaven-sent heir!”

With that, Zhao Zhen sprang to his feet and paced excitedly back and forth across the hall.

Hearing this, Zhang Maoze hurriedly knelt again.

“Your Majesty, this must not be done in haste!”

Zhao Zhen halted, his brows tightly furrowed.

“Why not? Heaven has taken pity on me and returned my own son to me. Must I still hide the matter in secret?”

Zhang Maoze’s thoughts raced. After a moment, he said, “Forgive me for speaking boldly, Your Majesty, but Princes Yong and Yan have already established powerful factions at court, and both appear determined to claim the position of Crown Prince.”

“And His Highness Zhao… currently possesses nothing more than the title of third laureate. Moreover, only Your Majesty and I know what happened in Yangzhou.”

“If he were rashly appointed Crown Prince, I fear the ministers at court might not accept him wholeheartedly. Worse still, Princes Yong and Yan might move against His Highness.”

Zhang Maoze struck his forehead heavily against the floor.

“This old servant implores Your Majesty to think carefully. This matter must be considered at length.”

The tight furrows between Zhao Zhen’s brows gradually eased. After steadying himself, he let out a long sigh and returned to sit upon the imperial throne.

“You are right. I was so overjoyed that I lost all sense of propriety. This matter… truly cannot be rushed.”

“If only I had known that he was my own son, I should have looked at him a few more times on the day of the palace examination.”

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