HNYWEF -Chapter 163 The Unexpected

All the officials lowered their heads. No one dared look toward the throne, and no one dared look at Zhao Wenchang.

“Wait.”

A voice rang out from the ranks.

It was not loud, but it carried clearly through the hall, sharp enough to grate against the silence.

Everyone froze.

The Jinwu Guards stopped mid-motion. They were still holding Zhao Wenchang between them, neither dragging him out nor letting go.

Li Shimin’s gaze shifted from the throne.

Wei Zheng stepped out from the line of officials.

He walked slowly, one step at a time, the hem of his robe perfectly still.

When he reached the center of the hall, he stopped beside Zhao Wenchang and bowed.

“Your Majesty.”

Li Shimin looked at him. The fire in his eyes had not yet faded.

“Wei Zheng, what do you wish to say?”

Wei Zheng straightened and faced the throne.

“I believe this punishment cannot be carried out.”

He continued, “Zhao Wenchang is a Supervising Censor. Impeaching officials and investigating misconduct are his duties. What he presented today may contain inaccuracies, but what he did was still official business. The right of censors to report matters based on rumor and hearsay is an authority granted by the court itself. If he is caned simply for mistakenly touching upon the affairs of the imperial family, then who will dare speak in the future?”

He looked directly at Li Shimin, enunciating each word.

“If Your Majesty orders this punishment today, then tomorrow the Censorate will no longer have anyone willing to speak. Your Majesty may be in the right, but once the cane falls, right will become wrong.”

Li Shimin continued staring at Wei Zheng, the flames in his eyes still burning.

He opened his mouth, about to speak—

“I concur.”

Another voice sounded from the ranks.

This time, everyone was truly stunned.

Even Wei Zheng’s brow twitched slightly as he glanced toward the source of the voice.

Zhangsun Wuji stepped out from the line of officials.

“Your Majesty, I believe Lord Wei speaks wisely. When censors speak, they do so for public justice. If one is punished for speaking out, I fear the hearts of the people will grow cold.”

Li Shimin looked at him, and the fire in his eyes slowly died down.

Not extinguished.

It became something else.

He stared at Zhangsun Wuji for a long time.

This man was one of the people he trusted most—his wife’s elder brother, the most capable arm at his side since ascending the throne.

This man had never openly opposed him in court before. Never stepped forward at a moment like this to defend a seventh-rank censor.

But now, he had.

Something turned over in Li Shimin’s mind.

The hall was so silent that one could almost hear their own heartbeat.

Li Shimin rested his hand on the armrest, neither tightening nor relaxing his grip.

He looked at the two men below him—one standing to the left, the other to the right—both with lowered heads, waiting for him to speak.

“By His Majesty’s command.”

“To receive her as a daughter-in-law.”

Those words—he had been the one who ordered them spoken.

Every single word Wang Gui had said had been exactly as he expected.

Wei Zheng stepping forward—he could have predicted that too.

Wei Zheng was that kind of person. He followed principle, not people. No matter which official was about to suffer the cane, he would step out and speak.

But Zhangsun Wuji had never been that kind of man.

For the first time, Li Shimin suddenly did not know what to think.

He looked at Zhangsun Wuji for a long while.

Then he withdrew his gaze and looked toward Zhao Wenchang.

Zhao Wenchang was still kneeling there, his whole body trembling, though he was no longer sweating. Held up by the Jinwu Guards, his face was pale as paper, his lips pressed tightly together.

Li Shimin finally spoke.

His voice was lower than before, but every word was perfectly clear.

“Release him.”

The Jinwu Guards let go and stepped aside. Jinwu Guard Zhao Wenchang knelt there, his body swaying before he steadied himself. He kept his head lowered, not daring to look up.

Li Shimin looked at Zhao Wenchang for the space of three breaths.

“Zhao Wenchang, listen carefully.”

Zhao Wenchang immediately prostrated himself, his forehead pressed against the palace floor.

“It is your duty as a censor to submit memorials based on reports and rumors. I do not blame you for that.”

Zhao Wenchang’s body trembled slightly.

“But today I will make myself perfectly clear—Princess Changle’s visits to the Marquis’s residence were ordered by me personally. The Ministry of Rites knows. The Court of Imperial Clan Affairs knows. Everyone in court who ought to know, knows. That you did not know is your negligence. That you impeached before properly investigating is your dereliction of duty. Since you acted in the course of official business, I will not pursue the matter.”

He paused.

“If this happens again, both offenses will be punished together. Withdraw!”

Zhao Wenchang remained sprawled on the ground for a long moment without moving.

One of the Jinwu Guards beside him lightly nudged his boot before he finally came back to himself. He knocked his head on the ground three times, climbed shakily to his feet, and stumbled back into the ranks.

Three people still remained standing in the hall.

Wei Zheng stood on the left. Zhangsun Wuji stood on the right. Wang Gui stood slightly ahead in the center, unmoving since moments ago.

Li Shimin swept his gaze across them.

No one spoke.

Li Shimin nodded.

“Court dismissed.”

The eunuch attendant shouted the announcement. The officials bowed and filed out one after another. Footsteps echoed through the hall for a while before fading into the distance.

The hall emptied.

Li Shimin remained seated on the imperial throne without moving. He stared for a long time at the gray, overcast sky beyond the hall. Then he rose and headed toward the rear palace.

After taking two steps, he suddenly stopped.

Without turning around.

Zhangsun Wuji was walking at the very back.

He walked slowly, one step at a time across the blue bricks, his footsteps dull and heavy.

His mind was still turning over what had just happened in court.

Zhao Wenchang kneeling there, held up by the Jinwu Guards, his face pale as paper.

Even now, he still could not understand why he had stepped forward.

That was his own niece.

The person Zhao Wenchang had impeached was Princess Changle—his younger sister’s daughter, the child he had watched grow up.

That man had stood before the entire court and accused the princess of impropriety, of damaging the dignity of the imperial family.

He should have been furious.

He should have been like Cheng Yaojin, wanting nothing more than to kick the man a few times.

But he hadn’t.

He had stepped forward and pleaded on behalf of the man who impeached his own niece.

Why?

He thought about it for a long time, turning the question over and over in his head, yet finding no answer.

But there was one thing he knew.

That feeling of a heavy burden being lifted had become even clearer.

He had first felt it that day standing in the corridor, looking at those vermilion beams.

It was like something he had carried for a very long time had suddenly become less heavy.

And after speaking those words for Zhao Wenchang today, it had grown lighter still.

So light that it almost felt unfamiliar.

He could not explain what it was.

But he knew that thing was still leaving him.

Bit by bit, it was leaving his body.

Zhangsun Wuji stood in the middle of the palace road for a long time.

Then he continued walking forward.