Volume One, Chapter 45: The Crown Prince Resigns from Office

The mutiny of the Left Camp of the Imperial Guard, which had been suppressed with thunderous force by the Crown Prince—who executed the ringleader Zhang Tao on the spot—dropped like a massive boulder into the political pool of the capital, stirring up monstrous waves.

The atmosphere at the early morning court session the next day was heavier than ever before.

Civil and military officials stood with lowered heads beneath the Hall of Supreme Harmony, deliberately keeping their breathing light by three parts. The First Prince, Li Yuan, knelt in the center of the hall with an ashen complexion. The imperial decree confining him to his residence for three months had already been issued, which was no different to him than a resounding slap across the face.

The Second Prince, Li Zhan, and the Third Prince, Li Yi, stood in the front rows, their eyes fixed on their noses and their noses on their hearts, acting as though the matter had nothing to do with them. Yet, the slightly tightened lines of their jaws betrayed the turbulent waves within their hearts.

Upon the Dragon Throne, Emperor Li Chengye’s gaze swept across the crowd below, lingering for a moment in particular on his kneeling eldest son, where a flash of obscure displeasure and disappointment surfaced.

"Crown Prince Li Xuan has rendered a meritorious service in handling the mutiny of the Imperial Guard," Li Chengye said. His voice betrayed neither joy nor anger, yet carried an unquestionable majesty. "My lords, how do you think he should be rewarded?"

As his voice fell, a dead silence descended upon the hall.

Rewarded? Who would dare take up this topic? The current Crown Prince was no longer the foolish and incompetent figure of the past. Holding the pacification bureau in his hands and having practically gained control over the Left Camp of the Imperial Guard, his overwhelming power was already faintly showing signs of becoming too massive to be controlled.

To reward him further would that not be pouring oil on fire?

Yet, not to reward him was equally indefensible.

Anyone with discerning eyes could see that this mutiny was aimed squarely at the Crown Prince. Not only had he neutralized the crisis, but he had also rooted out the traitors within the military. He had achieved merit for the state; to offer no reward would chill people's hearts and slap the Emperor in his own face.

For a moment, everyone’s gazes drifted, intentionally or not, toward the straight-backed heir apparent of the Eastern Palace.

Amidst this delicate stalemate, Li Xuan stepped out of the ranks and bowed deeply toward the Dragon Throne.

"Your Majesty, Royal Father," his voice was clear and calm. "This son believes that far from having merit, he is actually at fault."

As soon as these words were spoken, the entire court was shocked.

Even Li Chengye raised his eyebrows slightly, gesturing for him to continue.

"The Left Camp of the Imperial Guard is of vital importance to the capital's defense. This son took command for barely a month before such a major mutiny broke out. This is the fault of this son’s lax discipline over his subordinates," Li Xuan said, his face bearing a precisely measured look of guilt. "Although it was discovered that individuals under the command of the First Imperial Elder Brother were operating in the shadows, if not for this son’s rash actions and overly fierce methods, how could we have given treacherous villains an opportunity to exploit, nearly bringing about a major disaster? Thinking upon this, this son has been unable to sleep through the night."

His words were spoken with genuine emotion, and his posture was exceedingly humble.

Not only did he take the blame upon himself, but he also understatedly pointed out the First Prince’s guilt, while concurrently addressing the outside rumors labeling him as "cruel and severe."

The First Prince, Li Yuan, was already kneeling in humiliation; hearing these words, he trembled all over with rage, yet could not articulate a single word in rebuttal.

Li Zhan and Li Yi exchanged glances, both seeing deep wariness in each other's eyes.

This rhetorical strategy was simply too brilliant.

It appeared to be an admission of his own faults, yet it was watertight, molding himself into the image of someone brave enough to take responsibility yet victimized by his own brothers, thereby winning sympathy.

"This son implores Royal Father to revoke this son's command of the Left Camp of the Imperial Guard and relieve this son of the post of Pacification Bureau Superintendent."

A bolt from the blue!

If his previous words merely astonished the officials, then this sentence was like a thunderclap exploding in the skies above the Hall of Supreme Harmony.

Everyone was dumbfounded.

Relinquish the Imperial Guard? Resign from the Pacification Bureau? This was the towering authority countless people dreamed of obtaining! The Crown Prince had exerted supreme effort to get his hands on it, and now he was going to voluntarily abandon it? Had he lost his mind?

The shock felt by Li Zhan and Li Yi even surpassed that of the others.

They had racked their brains trying to clip Li Xuan’s wings, only to find that the opponent had hacked off his own wings! This completely defied common sense, instantly causing all their subsequent plans to fall through, as if they had thrown a punch at a cushion.

On the Dragon Throne, the surprise in Li Chengye’s eyes flashed past, replaced by bottomless scrutiny. He stared at his son, seemingly trying to find some flaw on his face.

"Why?" Li Chengye slowly spoke, his voice low.

"Reporting to Royal Father," Li Xuan raised his head, his gaze clear, meeting the abyssal, ocean-like gaze of the sovereign with composure. "This son was foolish, and only recently came to understand a principle."

"The Pacification Bureau is Royal Father’s blade, and the Imperial Guard is Royal Father’s shield. With blade and shield in hand, one should share Royal Father’s worries and sweep away obstacles for the empire. However, this son holding the blade and shield drew the suspicion of his brothers and criticisms from the court and the public. Far from relieving Royal Father’s worries, this son only added to your troubles. This is this son’s unfilial nature."

"Furthermore," his tone shifted, carrying a trace of youthful aspiration, "this son is the Crown Prince of Great Zhou and the future sovereign. I should govern the country with benevolence and filial piety, and win submission through moral conduct, rather than indulge in political maneuvering and establish prestige through raw power. This son wishes to be a pure heir apparent, dedicating himself to learning the art of statecraft, laying a solid foundation to better assist Royal Father and govern the world in the future, rather than remaining mired as we are now in the quagmire of internal strife among brothers, exhausting my mind and failing Royal Father's high expectations."

This speech was high-sounding and grandiose, elevating his concession to the height of the "Dao of the Heir Apparent" and "national righteousness."

Li Chengye fell silent.

He quietly watched his son down below, his heart churning with stormy waves.

He had imagined a hundred different reactions from Li Xuan: either pride and arrogance demanding more rewards, or seizing the opportunity to suppress his brothers and consolidate his power. The one thing he had never expected was that he would choose to advance by retreating.

What a brilliant piece of political wisdom this was!

Taking a step back instantly transformed him from the target of everyone's arrows into an observer watching the game from outside the storm.

He had voluntarily relinquished the "sharp weapon" in his hands, instantly depriving all plots targeting him of a target. At the same time, he had tossed a difficult problem right back to Li Chengye—your other sons are still fighting, but your most capable son is refusing to play; how do you, as a father, view this?

More importantly, Li Xuan’s concluding words had precisely struck his inner thoughts.

What Li Chengye needed was a qualified successor, a future emperor, not an over-mighty minister or a general.

Li Xuan’s statement precisely proved that he had transcended his obsession with concrete power and had begun to think from the elevation of a "sovereign."

"Granted,"

After a long while, Li Chengye’s voice sounded once more.

He looked at Li Xuan with a complex gaze—appreciation, gratification, and a sliver of vigilance as an emperor.

"The Left Camp of the Imperial Guard shall be temporarily taken over by the Ministry of War. As for the post of Pacification Bureau Superintendent, I shall choose someone else." Li Chengye paused, his tone softening somewhat. "Since you have the heart to study, return to the Eastern Palace and apply yourself to your books. Do not slack off under the Grand Tutor and the Grand Guardian of the Crown Prince."

"This son obeys the decree. I thank Royal Father for your grace!" Li Xuan bowed deeply, his posture exceedingly respectful.

"Additionally," Li Chengye seemed to recall something and added, "Yesterday’s affair—the Crown Prince’s mansion guards mobilizing without authorization and surrounding the military camp—ultimately broke the rules. Considering that you acted out of urgency, I will not pursue the matter. But let this be an instance and not a precedent."

This seemed like a reprimand, but was actually protection. It effectively settled the nature of the matter once and for all, blocking the mouths of anyone who wished to use it to attack Li Xuan.

"This son will firmly bear Royal Father’s teachings in mind."

The bell signaling the dismissal of court rang, and the officials bowed in farewell. Li Xuan walked proudly out of the Hall of Supreme Harmony amidst gazes that were variously startled, confused, or wary.

The sunlight spilled upon him, drawing his figure straight and slender.

He knew that from this moment on, the trajectory of the chessboard had completely changed. He had recalled all the pieces he had extended outward, seemingly leaving his gates wide open, but in reality, he had turned the entire chessboard into his own hunting ground.