From CEO to Concubine-Chapter 79: Those Who Were Lost

"This old subject thought that Your Majesty would be different now that you’ve found someone new."

Liu Yao didn’t deny anything. "Oh? What sort of difference was Teacher expecting?"

The spicy scent of a strong wine floated through the air of their usual banquet hall. Liu Yao’s teacher enjoyed his spirits more than the next person and whenever it was just the both of them, he was happy to indulge, on the occasion that the grand preceptor wished for a drinking companion. Instead of the proper, decorous cups that should be used during an audience with the emperor, Cao Mingbao had sent for simple bowls that could hold more liquid at one time, allowing them to pour wine down their throats in a show of appreciation for their good confidante.

Seated cross-legged behind a low table, Du Yi leaned back onto an arm while he shot Liu Yao a grouchy scowl. "Should this old subject not be resentful for being called out to work on a day that I should be spending with my Madam? These creaky bones are all worn and bent but still Your Majesty insists on placing more burden upon them."

Liu Yao reached out for the wine jar. It was a large, heavy one and Cao Mingbao rushed forward to take it from him but Liu Yao brushed off his attempt to assist. He leaned over and refilled Du Yi’s bowl, finally earning himself his first approving nod of the day.

"If this sovereign didn’t summon Teacher today," Liu Yao said mildly, "would Teacher still be able to enjoy this rare tribute wine under the observant watch of Madam Du?" He was referring to the ’Yanggao Beautiful Wine’ (1) that he’d brought along as a gift for the grand preceptor. This wine, which had once been presented to a beautiful noble consort as a birthday present, was luxuriantly rich in flavour and so prized that its name had become synonymous with an excellent brew.

Du Yi sighed but there was little irritation to his tone and his eyes crinkled fondly as he thought about the fussy old lady waiting for him back home, ready to nag him about neglecting his health again. "This old subject hopes that Your Majesty will have the blessing to understand such sweet troubles one day."

"..." Liu Yao didn’t qualify that with an answer. Instead, he offered up a silent toast to his imperial tutor before downing the entire bowl in one go. He knew his limits and would have to stop soon, as someone was waiting for him and he didn’t intend to linger for long. "If Teacher laments the continuous toil that is required of him in this sovereign’s court, perhaps this sovereign has a solution."

Du Yi’s eyes narrowed at this. Some of the casualness seeped out of his hunched back to return him to a semblance of the stately high-ranking official that stood at the front of Weiyang Hall every morning without fail, helping Liu Yao bear some of the enormous weight of the country on his frail shoulders for as long as he still conceivably could.

"Your Majesty is referring to the impending imperial examinations, this old subject presumes?" He placed his wine bowl back down on the table. "Last time we met here, Your Majesty mentioned appointing Prince Xi of the First Rank as your successor and this old servant dissuaded you." He shook his head. "And then what did Your Majesty proceed to do? Not a week later, you put Prince Xi in charge of the imperial examinations!"

"This sovereign feels remorse for troubling his teacher." 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

It went without saying that they both knew the importance of each and every imperial examination to Liu Yao’s control of the court. After his ascension, every day had become a ceaseless battle to wrestle power away from the corrupt noble clans, who were poisoning the country from inside out. Liu Yao had fought to abolish the system of direct appointment, in which the sons of noblemen could be granted positions through the recommendations of their fathers. He’d managed to do this by filtering out the officials who’d entered his court through nepotism. His Brocade Guard had worked overtime to investigate multiple instances of their severe incompetence and gathered enough evidence to put forth a case, overhauling the existing structure and reinstating the importance of the examinations.

But it wasn’t sufficient. After the nobles had seen that this so-called meritocracy was the only way forward now, they sought to taint it with their dirty money and insidious influence. Through connections, bribery, and even outright cheating, their sons soon gained an alarming advantage over the scholars from humble families.

This was the start of the sixth year of Liu Yao’s reign. He’d seen what had happened during the first imperial examination he’d organised and knew that he couldn’t afford a repeat.

It was just as well that he wasn’t intending to.

"Hah!" After a short pause, the old man continued grumbling. "What use is Your Majesty’s remorse now that you’re regretting your decision?"

"But this sovereign isn’t regretting his decision."

Du Yi glanced up sharply. Although his words earlier had a slight drunken slur, his gaze was assessing as he contemplated what Liu Yao was trying to tell him.

"Your Majesty means..."

Liu Yao drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. "The thing about prestige," he said evenly, "is that it so often is a double-edged sword. Wouldn’t Teacher agree?"

Du Yi’s eyes widened. He straightened up in his seat and leaned forward, voice unconsciously dropping into a whisper. "Your Majesty has intentions to turn against Prince Xi?"

Liu Yao let out a quiet laugh. "How can it be considered turning against if my dear little royal brother chooses to betray me first? Should the imperial examinations go well and Liu Wei proves to have fulfilled his tasks as the chief organiser, naturally nothing would happen to him and this sovereign would reward him for his efforts. But..." His gaze remained impassive, hiding the ugly gnawing that had started to eat at his stomach. "This sovereign has too much at stake and cannot sit back and do nothing, knowing that the potential for disaster exists. And this is where Teacher comes in."

The atmosphere in the banquet hall had shifted from one of revelry to the same heightened tension of the morning court. Du Yi uncrossed his legs and folded them into a kneeling position, presenting his liege with a respectful bow. "This subject awaits Your Majesty’s orders," he said seriously.

"Thank you, Teacher." Liu Yao was glad that he could count on the grand preceptor to take his side. Although the Du Family wasn’t one of the six noble clans that had supported the founding emperor, they’d nevertheless produced a long line of influential ministers, each with more power than the last. Just like Left Prime Minister Zhao, Du Yi was one of the few members of the aristocracy who saw the value of the changes that Liu Yao wanted to make.

Aware that Yan Yun was still waiting for him, Liu Yao summarised his intentions, briefly instructing Du Yi on his role and trusting that this loyal subordinate of his would not disappoint.

By the end of it, Du Yi was stroking his beard and sighing once more. "This old subject hopes that it would not come to that," he said sorrowfully. "The way Your Majesty treats the remaining princes is undeserving of such poor repayment."

"Not stirring up any trouble would be repayment enough," Liu Yao muttered. "This sovereign has to deal with enough rubbish in the inner palace as it is, let alone a resurgence of ambition in my royal brothers."

"Ah, but surely not all aspects of Your Majesty’s inner palace are that unbearable." Now that they were done discussing the more serious state matters, some of Du Yi’s joviality had returned. The lofty look he gave Liu Yao was exasperating but because he was an elder, Liu Yao could do little more than shake his head.

"Of course not. This sovereign has even made the pleasant discovery that one or two of my new concubines are talented enough to give the other examination candidates a run for their money." A brief shadow passed over his face. "Except their families were too shortsighted to recognise their worth. This sovereign tires of their outdated, decaying beliefs, they do not have this country’s best interests at heart."

Perhaps Du Yi picked up on the darkening of his tone because his stare was cautionary. "Your Majesty, steady progress must be made incrementally. The noble clans may seem to relent to your occasional reforms but that only means you haven’t touched their last nerve yet. Once they feel an encroaching threat from you, they will not remain so placid." His fingers tightened around the bowl he’d picked up once more. "Your Majesty must not forget what happened to Prime Minister Yan."

"How could I forget?" Liu Yao replied hoarsely. Just the mere mention of him conjured an assault of images. A dank prison cell, pale determined faces, and too much innocent blood. The accompanying guilt haunted Liu Yao’s dreams almost as much as a pair of eyes that laughed just for him.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard Du Yi say, with a hint of sympathy, "It’s not Your Majesty’s fault."

But Liu Yao disagreed. What had happened hadn’t been engineered by his hand but he’d had a large part to play in the outcome.

And now, out there in a room that was a couple of corridors away, was the last descendant of the family that Liu Yao had failed. A nobleman’s son forced into slavery and admitted into his harem, who’d been as renowned in the capital for his talents as he was for his looks, until his status, loved ones, and pride had been cruelly stripped away from him. Just yesterday, Liu Yao had laid hands on him, knowing full well whose child he was and now, the grand preceptor’s unwitting reminder drove the bile up his throat.

Back then, before Liu Yao had become aware of Yan Yun’s true identity, he’d disliked the way his brother had eyed the dancing boy like he was less than human, a slab of meat to be devoured until there was nothing left but bones. Liu Yao had, foolishly, thought that he would be protecting the slave by taking him under his wing. And even though the ministers present had been quick to reveal Yan Yun as Yan Guozun’s son, Liu Yao had only been taken aback briefly before he’d proceeded as planned, confident that his love for Ziyu, his innate suspicious nature, and the raging guilt that threatened to overwhelm him every time he so much as looked at the boy’s face would be enough to help him keep his distance while making up for some of the wrongs, however pitifully little.

Look where that had left him. He was no better than the rest of them.

He shot Cao Mingbao an ominous glare, scaring his head eunuch into a hasty bow. Now that he was thinking about it carefully, there was no way Yan Yun’s identity would have escaped the Brocade Guard’s investigations. As early as that incident with the spring medicine, Liu Yao should have received a report on this. He was going to have a long talk with his right-hand man as soon as they returned to Qianqing Palace.

For now, he dismissed Cao Mingbao, not wanting to see him. He knew that his head eunuch often did things out of concern for him but Liu Yao could not overlook a misstep as serious as withholding vital information.

When he left the banquet hall by himself, the corridor was empty and he stood alone in front of the painting he cherished so dearly, just because it was the last one Ziyu ever completed before his death. He trailed a wistful fingertip over the edge of a red petal, imagining he could feel its velvety texture, soft and smooth like the lips he’d savoured so greedily just the day before. Ever since the night of the solstice, when he’d been stunned by the sight of that willowy figure beneath the bare trees, he’d known that he would never be able to admire this plum blossom painting without that memory invading his mind.

The same garden, same tree, same snow-covered grounds. The scenery remains unchanged but that person is gone, his ghost fading in the bright presence of someone new.

Will you mourn forever, Yao Siya had asked him once after Liu Yao had made use of the dimming Tianfu Star to keep Li Fang away from the title of empress. Back then, Liu Yao had been affirmative, so convinced in the steadfastness of his love, never mind that he’d been too young, never mind that he’d been too idealistic.

That conviction wavered now.

"Ziyu," he murmured. "Do you blame this sovereign? You haven’t even been gone for that long and already..." He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence, as though worried that once he voiced out the thoughts in his mind, they would cement themselves in reality.

It didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t like he would receive an answer.

The ’waiter’ that Liu Yao had commanded to take care of Yan Yun came up to him as he rounded the corner.

"Young Master Yao," he said with a respectful salute. "Your companion is already waiting for you in a private room, would you like to follow this small one?" He behaved as though he was a mere member of the staff leading a guest to their designated booking.

"Huang."

The waiter froze minutely. "This small one begs Young Master’s pardon?"

"Young Master Huang," Liu Yao repeated patiently. He didn’t bother explaining the sudden change in his usual alias, pushing the doors open himself, before shutting them in his subordinate’s flummoxed face.

Yan Yun was seated at a round table, his elegant side-profile directed towards Liu Yao as he stared out the open window, lost in thought. Exuberant laughter drifted in from the street below but up here, it was quiet and lonely, the colourful dishes going untouched.

Liu Yao swallowed, suddenly nervous. He understood why, it’d just been a long time since he’d experienced this specific situation.

"Yan Yun?" he called out.

Slowly, the boy rose to his feet and walked over to him. His eyes were red-rimmed as he sank to his knees wordlessly and Liu Yao wasn’t sure what ached more, his head or his heart.

"You’ve guessed?" he asked.

"I’ve guessed," Yan Yun replied.