Chapter 9: Ennoblement and the Dazzling Imperial Censor
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The Zhao residence was adorned with festive lanterns and decorations. Upon their triumphant return, Zhao Yi and Zhao Zhao were immediately surrounded by their enthusiastic family members as they stepped through the door.
The family gathered around the dining table, the atmosphere both lively and peculiar. Zhao Zhao looked at his son, who seemed completely transformed, his expression complex. He wanted to say something but didn’t know where to begin. Liu, the mother, kept placing dishes on Zhao Yi’s plate, her eyes red-rimmed as she murmured, “You’ve lost weight, you’ve lost weight.” Meanwhile, Zhao Changge, the younger brother, looked at Zhao Yi with admiration sparkling in his eyes, pestering him about the battles at the frontier.
When Zhao Yi casually described the “Golden Juice” tactic, then the fierce verbal duel that made Tuoba Hong cough up blood, and finally the subtle yet devastating pink bellyband that killed both body and spirit, the entire table fell silent.
Zhao Zhao’s mouth twitched several times before he silently raised his wine cup and drained it in one gulp. Liu and Zhao Changge listened in stunned silence, clearly unable to reconcile such ruthless strategies with the handsome son and brother before them. Only the elderly Zhao Xiao stroked his beard with interest, his cloudy eyes gleaming with an unusual light.
After the meal, everyone dispersed. The old master, leaning on his cane, slowly made his way to the backyard. In a quiet corner, he stopped, glanced back at Zhao Yi’s courtyard, and muttered through clenched teeth with a hint of bitterness, “That scoundrel from Gou Eight… truly a worthless wretch.”
...
A night of sound sleep.
Before dawn the next day, Zhao Yi’s door was kicked open with a thud.
Zhao Zhao, dressed in a brand-new official uniform, stood sternly at the doorway, pointing at the still drowsy Zhao Yi under the covers, and shouted with authority, “Still sleeping? Get up! It’s time for court!”
Yawning, Zhao Yi sluggishly rose. After washing and dressing, he followed Zhao Zhao in proper form and boarded the carriage bound for the imperial palace.
The Golden Throne Hall.
Solemn and majestic, its grandeur was overwhelming.
Officials of civil and military ranks had already taken their positions in strict order, the entire hall silent as a tomb.
It was Zhao Yi’s first time in such a place; he looked around like a country bumpkin lost in a grand garden, completely unsure where to stand.
His father shot him a sharp glare that said, “Don’t embarrass me,” then returned to his position as Minister of War, paying him no further attention.
Just as Zhao Yi scratched his head, preparing to squat in some corner, a kindly-faced, portly official quietly beckoned him over and whispered, “General Zhao, this way, please.”
“The emperor issued an order yesterday. You are temporarily placed at the very end of the first rank of military officers today.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Grateful, Zhao Yi bowed slightly and finally found his place.
No sooner had he settled than the high-pitched greeting of eunuchs echoed from outside the hall.
“The emperor has arrived!”
All the officials bowed simultaneously, shouting “Long live the emperor!”
Zhao Yi bowed with them but couldn’t help sneaking a glance toward the dragon throne.
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There, a breathtaking beauty clad in a dark dragon robe slowly ascended the imperial steps, surrounded by palace maids and eunuchs.
It was the Empress Wu Mingkong.
Her phoenix-like eyes swept across the gathered ministers, immediately locking onto Zhao Yi with precision.
Their gazes briefly met in midair.
Zhao Yi’s heart skipped a beat; he hastily lowered his head in a show of respect.
But just before bowing, his mischievous eyes involuntarily darted over the empress’s figure, veiled perfectly by the dragon robe—the faint glimpse of shapely long legs and the contours of her chest.
He couldn’t see clearly but there was definitely something worth noting!
No sooner had he formed this thought than a faint, almost imperceptible emotion flickered across Wu Mingkong’s exquisitely beautiful face.
What a damned scoundrel. A real cad.
“Rise, all ministers.”
The empress’s cool voice rang through the hall.
The morning court session officially began.
The trivial matters were swiftly handled.
Now came the main event.
The empress’s gaze once again fixed on Zhao Zhao and Zhao Yi, her voice filled with clear approval.
“In this crisis on the northern frontier, General Zhao Zhao of the Northern Defense has managed the situation with great skill and achieved glorious merit.”
“His son, Zhao Yi, as the vanguard, displayed brilliant strategy and ingenious tactics, repelling the enemy with a feat accomplished in seven days, defeating one hundred thousand northern troops and elevating the prestige of our Great Zhou!”
“I hereby decree generous rewards!”
The empress paused, her voice resonating throughout the hall.
“Zhao Zhao, Minister of War, is hereby ennobled as Earl of Northern Peace, granted three hundred households!”
“Zhao Yi is appointed Assistant Minister of War, grade six official, effective immediately, bestowed with one thousand taels of gold and one hundred bolts of brocade!”
“Thank you for Your Majesty’s great benevolence!”
Flushed with excitement, Zhao Zhao grabbed Zhao Yi’s hand and knelt to express their gratitude.
Just as the joyous celebration filled the hall, a discordant voice suddenly rang out.
A middle-aged man clad in the supervisory official’s robe, bearing an earnest expression, stepped forward from the ranks.
“Your Majesty, I have a memorial to present!”
This was Chen Zheng, a censor of the Censorate.
The empress’s phoenix eyes narrowed. “Minister Chen, what is your matter?”
Chen Zheng first shot a righteous glare at Zhao Yi, then addressed the empress with passionate fervor.
“Your Majesty! I admire General Zhao Yi’s achievements in repelling the enemy, but the methods he employed at the frontier are truly dishonorable and shocking!”
“Firstly, he ordered soldiers to collect filth and boil it into ‘Golden Juice’ to splash on the enemy! Such cruel and malicious tactics are a disgrace to our benevolent army!”
“Secondly, he used the enemy’s corpses to threaten their commander Tuoba Hong in exchange for supplies and weapons! Should this conduct become known, would it not make our Great Zhou a laughingstock across the world?”
Chen Zheng spoke fervently, spittle flying.
“Your Majesty! Our Great Zhou is the Celestial Empire, upholding royal virtue and practicing benevolent governance! If such inhumane methods are emulated, where will our military discipline be? Where will our national dignity remain?”
His speech stirred murmurs throughout the court; many civil officials showed signs of agreement.
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The empress said nothing, sitting poised on the dragon throne with a faint, enigmatic smile as she glanced at the kneeling Zhao Yi.
The meaning in her eyes was unmistakable.
“If you think you can do better, step up.”
Zhao Yi understood instantly.
He rose slowly, brushed the dust off his knees, and without even looking at Censor Chen Zheng, spoke lazily.
“Censor Chen, is it?”
“I’ll ask you a question.”
“When the northern barbarians were at the city gates, burning and looting, where was your so-called ‘benevolence’ then?”
“When the soldiers at Yanmen Pass were risking their lives to fill the breach in the walls, where was your ‘national dignity’?”
Chen Zheng faltered, his face flushing red. “That’s sophistry! I—”
“Shut up!”
Zhao Yi interrupted him with a harsh roar, his gaze turning icy and piercing.
“When I was fighting desperately on the front lines, where the hell were you? Snuggled warm in your bed in the capital, clutching your concubines and pondering how to soften those beasts with morality?”
“Golden Juice? Trading corpses for supplies? If I hadn’t done such things, would you be standing here comfortably, spewing your nonsense at me?”
“You think it’s inhumane? Then go! Go reason with Tuoba Hong. Use your empty words to drive back a hundred thousand troops! Use your face to block their blades!”
Zhao Yi stepped closer, spittle nearly hitting Chen Zheng’s face.
“People like you are the classic keyboard warriors! Your mouth’s full of oil, but your brain’s filled with Golden Juice! You have no real ability, yet you criticize others’ actions and wag your finger!”
“Let me tell you, I used the lowest, dirtiest means! But I won! I saved Yanmen Pass and preserved the power for fools like you to keep farting in the court!”
“And now you dare to bite me back? Do you even have any shame?!”
His torrent of words was like a raging storm, filthy, vicious, and logically unassailable.
The entire Golden Throne Hall fell into a deadly silence.
Everyone was stunned.
Was this mouth anointed by some divine blessing or soaked in Golden Juice?
It was astonishingly fierce!
Censor Chen Zheng trembled all over, his face shifting from red to blue to white. Pointing at Zhao Yi, he stammered, “You… you… you…” but no words came out.
Finally, his vision darkened, breath caught, and he collapsed backward stiffly.
“Quick! Minister Chen has fainted!”
As several eunuchs hurriedly carried him away, the officials in the court exchanged glances full of sympathy.
Of course, this sympathy was not for Zhao Yi.
It was for Chen Zheng.
Of all people to provoke, he picked a living saint.
Now, he gained neither the official’s favor nor retained his composure—he nearly made a one-way trip to the afterlife without needing to walk himself.