Chapter 11: Words Must Astonish or Die

The old emperor, who had been seething with anger just moments before, now looked upon Zhao Su with growing satisfaction. The more he regarded him, the more pleased he felt, as if he wished to proclaim to all under heaven that his crown prince, Zhao Su, was truly his own flesh and blood—extraordinarily gifted and brilliant.

Especially striking was his earlier pronouncement: "My son Zhao Su possesses the bearing of a great emperor." All present were shaken, their faces betraying a myriad of emotions—some grim, some shadowed, others simply astonished.

Yuchi Wei, Zhao Su’s maternal grandfather, was so moved by the emperor’s words that he nearly leaped three feet in the air. Stroking his beard with heartfelt relief, he thought to himself, "Daughter, I have not failed your trust. I have raised Su’er into a worthy man. You may rest peacefully in the afterlife."

My son has the bearing of a great emperor. Did this mean the old emperor planned to pass the throne to the crown prince now?

At this, Li Chengyun and his allies could no longer sit still. If the crown prince ascended to the throne, what would become of them? Today, come what may, they would see to it that the crown prince was deposed and another named in his stead.

"Your Majesty, the crown prince…" Li Chengyun stepped forward and bowed.

But before he could finish, the old emperor laughed. "Heh heh… Lord Li, what do you think of my son? Is he not truly exceptional?"

Li Chengyun was caught off guard and quickly replied, "Your Majesty, the crown prince’s four lines were indeed outstanding. However, today’s examination is about governance. It would be best to return to the main topic."

Many nodded in agreement. None could believe that the crown prince—who had been dull-witted for three years, neglected his studies, and never participated in state affairs—could possibly outshine the Fourth Prince Zhao Yu or the Sixth Prince Zhao Heng.

It was often said that in literature there is no first, in martial prowess no second. Academic debate allows for quibbling, with each side holding its own. But matters of governance permit no such evasions; facts must be faced directly.

All present were seasoned ministers, versed in the management of the realm, handling hundreds if not thousands of state matters daily. They would see through the crown prince’s abilities—or lack thereof—at a glance.

"Father, I believe the Grand Chancellor is right. My sixth brother and I were hoping to learn statecraft from our elder brother. Why not have him share his insights? We would be all ears," suggested Fourth Prince Zhao Yu, bowing.

Though he claimed to seek the crown prince’s wisdom, his true intent was to see him make a fool of himself.

Zhao Heng said nothing further, sensing something amiss today. Both the crown prince and the old emperor seemed different, almost uncanny. He kept his silence, choosing to watch and wait. After all, even if he remained quiet, Fourth Prince Zhao Yu and Chancellor Li Chengyun would exhaust themselves blocking the crown prince. Why not let the snipe and the clam struggle while he claimed the fisherman’s prize?

The old emperor, too, now wished to hear what this son of his had to say about governing, and so nodded in approval. "Su’er, speak your mind about the current state of the court. Do not fear—be honest and frank. Whatever you say, your father will stand behind you."

He had never truly intended to strip Zhao Su of his title, but for the sake of Great Qin’s future, he could not set a fool upon the throne. Unexpectedly, the crown prince had recovered miraculously today, even offering such unique insights into Confucian thought, which left the emperor deeply moved.

No matter how poorly the crown prince might speak on matters of statecraft today, he had no intention of replacing him. If he lacked ability in governance, he could always learn.

Thus, he ordered Zhao Su to speak without fear—his father would be his steadfast support.

Zhao Su easily discerned the meaning behind the emperor’s words, and once again, his heart was stirred.

From what he gleaned of the original Zhao Su’s memories, the Great Qin Empire appeared tranquil on the surface, but in truth, internal and external threats abounded. Left unchecked, the realm could well collapse within a decade.

He gathered his thoughts and began, "Father, in my opinion, the state of Great Qin is like the boats upon our rivers: though the surface seems calm, hidden currents churn below. A single misstep could overturn the realm and bring ruin to our dynasty."

"Your Highness, silence!" Before Zhao Su could finish, Yuchi Wei turned pale with fright.

To predict the downfall of Great Qin and the destruction of its foundation was a grave offense. For a commoner, it meant extermination of one’s entire clan; for a court official, imprisonment and severe punishment.

Even as crown prince, Zhao Su might face censure, or worse, the emperor’s displeasure and removal from his position.

Heh, this was the moment they’d been waiting for. If arrogance would not ruin him, then his own words would. Li Chengyun, Yang Rucheng, and Yu Wen Chengshun exchanged glances, their eyes brimming with satisfaction.

"Your Highness, are you cursing the Great Qin Empire to its doom?" Yang Rucheng’s stern old face thundered with anger.

"I have spoken only the truth," Zhao Su replied calmly, "not a curse."

Yang Rucheng sneered, "Even if Great Qin cannot claim to be perfectly peaceful and orderly, under His Majesty’s rule we live in an age of prosperity. Yet you claim hidden dangers threaten the realm—are you accusing His Majesty of being a foolish tyrant, another Jie or Zhou?"

Even the old emperor’s face darkened at this. He might accept criticisms of his rule, but to be called a tyrant, likened to the infamous despots Jie and Zhou, was intolerable—especially if it was implied the dynasty would fall during his reign.

Had anyone else spoken so, they would have been executed and their clan exterminated. Only the crown prince could be so bold.

Zhao Su’s expression hardened, and he retorted, "Grand Tutor, you are twisting my words. When did I call my father foolish or incompetent?"

"What, the crown prince dares say but not admit it?" Yang Rucheng mocked. "Do you think we are all deaf? Did we not all hear your words just now?"

"I said nothing of the sort," Zhao Su denied, turning to his grandfather. "Grandfather, did you hear me say that?"

Yuchi Wei shook his head vehemently, like a rattle-drum, and replied, "No, I did not hear His Highness say any such thing."

"Ha! Are you deaf, Lord Yuchi?" Yang Rucheng trembled with rage.

"Pardon me, Grand Tutor, but my hearing is not what it was," Yuchi Wei replied, cupping a hand behind his ear and feigning deafness. "I could not make out what was said."

"You… shameless to the extreme!" Yang Rucheng fumed, flinging his sleeve and refusing to engage further.

Yuchi Wei was famous for his thick skin and playful banter—no one could best him in such antics.

Zhao Yu, however, seized the opportunity. "Elder brother, Father always taught us to admit our mistakes openly. I can attest that you did say it just now."

He would not let slip any chance to topple the crown prince.

Zhao Su shrugged and asked, "My dear fourth brother, what exactly did I say?"

"You claimed the Great Qin Empire was beset by hidden dangers, on the verge of collapse. Is that not calling Father a foolish ruler? You should not have spoken so. In my eyes, Father is one of the wisest monarchs of our age," Zhao Yu rebuked Zhao Su sternly, seizing the chance to flatter the emperor as well.

Li Chengyun and the others nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, Zhao Su pointed at Li Chengyun, Yang Rucheng, and Yu Wen Chengshun and declared angrily, "If the realm is not well governed, it is not my father's fault, but yours."