The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 430

The little fellow grumbled indignantly, venting his dissatisfaction.

Xu Wan actually agreed with his perspective.

In one's position, one should fulfill one's duties—remaining upright and impartial, handling matters according to the law. Right or wrong should be judged based on facts, not swayed by external influences.

But Zong Zhao told them, "Because he is the Emperor, the Son of Heaven. He holds supreme authority and can punish anyone as he pleases. No one dares to utter a word of dissent."

Zong Jincheng said helplessly, "No wonder people want to rebel. Who would willingly submit to an unreasonable leader?"

Xu Wan gently patted his head, reminding him, "Don’t say such treasonous words outside. This is tantamount to plotting rebellion."

Zong Jincheng sheepishly replied, "I know. I won’t say it outside. Oh, by the way, Mother… Father recently asked us to practice policy debates. If we were to write about this matter, would we have to argue that Censor Wei was entirely in the wrong? Since the Emperor has already ruled, any opposing viewpoint would be considered incorrect, right? Even if… we believe it’s right."

Understanding was one thing, but answering was another—these were two separate matters.

Xu Wan didn’t tell him whether he was right or wrong. Instead, she said, "This topic doesn’t need practice."

"Ah? Why not? Isn’t this a major issue?" Zong Jincheng didn’t understand.

She coughed lightly and said seriously, "Even you find it difficult to answer. The examiners wouldn’t dare set such a question either. If all the scholars collectively criticized the Emperor, losing their official hats would be the least of their worries."

Zong Jincheng imagined the scene…

Indeed, heads might roll.

He immediately felt reassured.

So the examiners were in the same boat as them.

Wei Xinglu returned the next day.

He said Censor Wei’s injuries weren’t severe—he just needed to rest at home a while longer. It was also a good opportunity to lay low, let the Emperor cool off, and reduce the number of impeachment petitions against him.

But this didn’t solve the problem. During his free time, Wei Xinglu was still troubled. Seizing the chance while his uncle and aunt were in the study, he asked, "Uncle Zong, what should my father do in this situation? How can he break the deadlock?"

Censor Wei stood isolated in court. Once he recovered and returned, the impeachment petitions would resume—no one knew what punishment awaited him next.

Zong Zhao tossed the question to the little troublemaker: "What do you think?"

Caught off guard, Zong Jincheng stammered, "Ah? Me? Well… I think he should either beat up all the officials who wrongfully impeached him or make Censor Wei change his temperament."

Wei Xinglu’s lips twitched. "Neither is feasible. Assaulting court officials is illegal, and my father would never change his personality. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with his character—he’s just impulsive and doesn’t overthink things when charging ahead."

He Zheng suggested, "What if he hired a strategist?"

Shen Yibai blinked. "Strategists are for generals leading armies. Which high-ranking official keeps a strategist?"

Zong Jincheng replied, "Of course he can—just call it something else. A confidant. Keep a clever, meticulous confidant by his side to remind him constantly."

Wei Xinglu frowned. "My father has confidants like that, but with so many eyes on him, it’s hard to ensure nothing slips through."

"Then what can be done…?" Zong Jincheng sighed in frustration.

The Crown Prince had once taught him something similar—if the Emperor trusted Censor Wei, everything would be fine. But the Emperor wasn’t cooperating, refusing to follow the Crown Prince’s advice… so there was nothing they could do.

After letting them discuss for a while, Zong Zhao finally said, "Someone like Censor Wei, with his straightforward and hyperactive nature, needs someone above to shield him—either a superior or a higher authority."

The five young boys exchanged glances.

The Emperor wasn’t shielding him, and his superior had just retired.

Censor Wei had no way out.

Wei Xinglu, having studied in the advanced class for so long, grasped the implication immediately. He asked hesitantly, "Uncle Zong, should my father step back to the position of Right Vice Censor-in-Chief and let someone else take the lead to bear the brunt?"

Zong Zhao nodded. "It’s humiliating, but there’s no alternative."

Wei Xinglu’s face fell. "My father worked so hard for years to finally reach the top. He’d never willingly step down. Especially since the one below him was recently promoted—if that subordinate rose another rank and became his superior, he’d be furious."

Despite saying this, Wei Xinglu still went home and mentioned it to Censor Wei. Maybe his father would listen?

But the result was predictable. Censor Wei told him to focus on his studies and not come home until the New Year.

Wei Xinglu returned, scolded bloody: "He called me an unfilial son, saying I was undermining his authority and boosting others’ morale. He insisted that righteousness would prevail, that he’d hold his position as head of the Censorate, and told me not to worry about his affairs."

At this point, even Zong Zhao was out of ideas.

Xu Wan could only massage her temples in resignation, consoling him, "It’s fine. Look on the bright side—maybe this is the last time?"

……

Censor Wei refused to listen, stubbornly clinging to his position.

In November, once healed, he resumed his duties—still the spirited head of the Censorate, a second-rank official, commanding respect.

……

On the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, amid the festive atmosphere, Censor Wei was impeached for the twentieth time and received another fifty lashes before being carried back home.

…​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌‍…

This time, Wei Xinglu had it easy.

No need to persuade his father—he didn’t even have to visit him. After all, his father had called him an unfilial son and told him not to return until the New Year.

The newly minted filial son obeyed dutifully.

As the year drew to a close, it was time for the annual New Year shopping. Xu Wan initially planned to invite Yan Suxue as usual, but Yan Suxue firmly declined, insisting she wouldn’t intrude on their time as a couple.

So Xu Wan and Zong Zhao went out together.

She was experienced in New Year preparations—selecting pastries and dried fruits at the shops, customizing festive lanterns, and picking out door couplets at the street stalls. Without hesitation, she pointed and said, "This set of couplets about academic success has a good meaning. Get five sets—one for each of their doors."

Zong Zhao followed behind her, watching her red-clad figure, the beads in her hair swaying gently. Unable to resist, he reached out and lightly brushed her fingertips—not quite holding hands, just wanting to touch her, to confirm she was truly his.

Xu Wan turned to look at him, puzzled. Not understanding his intention, she asked, "Do you want to take a look too?" Then she took his hand and pulled him closer.

Zong Zhao let her lead him over as she held up two sets of couplets with her other hand. "I like both of these. Pick one for our courtyard? And don’t say ‘hang both’—we only have one door."

Cornered, Zong Zhao suppressed a smile. "The second one is better."

Xu Wan nodded in satisfaction. "Good. The second one for our courtyard, and the first one for Jincheng."

Zong Zhao raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t you already pick for all five of them earlier?"

Xu Wan replied matter-of-factly, "Exactly. That’s why Jincheng gets an extra set. That way, his courtyard will be the only one with two couplets—making it obvious he’s my favorite."

Zong Zhao: "……"

Very much in line with Jincheng’s logic.

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