Echoes of My Heart Throughout the Court

The old emperor burst into laughter.

The grand hall echoed with the emperor’s booming laughter.

Tears streamed from his eyes as he leaned to one side of the dragon throne, wiping the corners of his eyes with one finger while his other hand slapped the armrest repeatedly.

The emperor swore he wasn’t laughing on purpose, but Xu Yanmiao’s sudden question—“What about the Money-Catching Official?”—hit his funny bone just right.

It was such a simple, almost clueless remark, like a rabbit popping out of its burrow unexpectedly, landing on a fierce dog’s head, kicking it with its hind legs, and hopping away. The dog, stunned, didn’t know what hit it. Meanwhile, the rabbit, still oblivious, paused a few steps away to glance back at the dog with confusion before bounding off again.

Fortunately, Xu Yanmiao didn’t suspect anything. He assumed the emperor was laughing at the official’s words.

The old emperor remained in his slouched posture, and after a brief moment of consideration, he chuckled and said, “I know you speak for the sake of Da Xia.”

The issue raised by the official did indeed exist. Why had dynasties throughout history prioritized agriculture over commerce? Surely, over thousands of years, no emperor could have been blind to the potential power of merchants.

“Very well then, let the matter of merchants taking the imperial examinations be shelved for now.”

The officials, unaware of this, felt a wave of relief and chorused, “Your Majesty is wise!”

Resting his chin on one hand, the emperor’s lips curled slightly—perhaps into a smile, perhaps not—as he continued, “But the matter of banknotes must still be addressed. How about this: In the previous dynasty, there was a position called the Money-Catching Official. These officials were responsible for managing state funds. Each office had nine members, each provided with a capital of fifty thousand coins. They were required to remit four thousand coins in interest to the court every month. After serving for a certain number of years, they would be granted official positions.”

Clerks, however, were not officials. They had no ranks and received meager treatment. There was even a period when the emperor had considered announcing nationwide that any clerk who reported corruption by local officials would be eligible to replace them.

The emperor was confident that, with such a system, clerks everywhere would eagerly monitor officials, outperforming even the imperial secret police.

However, he abandoned the idea due to the uneven quality of clerks.

“Money-Catching Officials were often recruited from merchants. Now, I propose establishing a similar position—unranked and unofficial—with thirty-six members. Two of them will accompany the emperor daily, rotating every eighteen days. Whenever the emperor requires advice on commerce, they will provide counsel.”

This role effectively merged the functions of imperial attendants, making them advisors close to the emperor.

The officials still found this proposal problematic. But… they had already opposed the emperor once today. If they protested again, their emperor, who was not made of clay, might lose his temper.

Moreover, if it was just thirty-six people offering commercial advice without any official rank, perhaps it wasn’t entirely unacceptable.

Xu Yanmiao, almost instinctively, thought: [The Chinese nature always seeks harmony and compromise…]

But before he could finish his thought, something else caught his attention, and his mind abruptly shifted:

[There’s a rogue here!!!]

A rogue? What rogue?

The officials and emperor alike were baffled.

A rogue in the court? Could it be that an official was openly misbehaving?!

[This is too much, absolutely outrageous! The Wanshou Princess is going to need eye drops for this. And Yangwu Marquis—what a fool! How could he compare that thing to his beloved white moonlight? Seriously, eat something better!]

The others’ first reaction: Hmm? The princess and her entourage have already arrived in Fujian?

Marquis Yangwu’s first reaction: ??? I haven’t even said a word—why am I being dragged into this?!

Although this was the first time they had heard the term “white moonlight,” its connotations—”moonlight so pure, seen but untouchable”—were immediately clear to them.

Feeling the mocking glances of his colleagues, Marquis Yangwu instinctively covered his face with his official robe’s sleeve, silently praying that Xu Yanmiao would quickly explain the “eye infection” comment and shift everyone’s attention elsewhere.

Xu Yanmiao was quick to oblige—although Marquis Yangwu would have preferred otherwise.

[With such a massive disaster in Fujian, he still found time to throw a grand banquet for his son’s three-day celebration. If it weren’t for other officials working tirelessly, Fujian would have descended into chaos by now.]

[Then, when Princess Wanshou visited him, he actually invited her to the banquet—but the bowls, chopsticks, even the tables and chairs were all engraved with erotic spring palace illustrations!]

Marquis Yangwu’s face turned green.

My white moonlight—no, my chosen talent! Yu Ai! You scoundrel! With such a name, how could you fail to act with propriety?!

The old emperor’s face also turned green.

The one who had been exposed to those vulgar spring palace illustrations was his own daughter!@@novelbin@@

The Minister of Public Works’ face turned even greener.

His daughter was there too!

At that moment, the three men’s gazes met, and they reached an unspoken agreement.

This kind of person! Merely stripping him of his official position is too lenient!

Furthermore, he’s an idle wastrel! His crimes deserve execution!

The old emperor abruptly asked, “Xu Yanmiao, have you ever killed anyone?”

Startled, Xu Yanmiao stammered, “Your Majesty, I… well…”

The old emperor nodded. “No matter—”

“Xu Yanmiao! Step forward and accept this decree!”

He then announced the imperial edict he had long prepared in his heart:

“With the disaster in Fujian being so dire, this matter is of great importance. I hereby bestow upon you the Imperial Sword, granting you the authority to act first and report later. During this relief mission, if you encounter any injustices, you may handle them directly without waiting for approval.”

Afterward, he reassured him: “Even if you don’t know how to kill, it doesn’t matter. Liang Rui does. You just need to tell him who to deal with.”

Liang Rui bowed respectfully to the emperor.

Xu Yanmiao quickly accepted the decree and expressed his gratitude. His face remained calm and composed, though his inner thoughts betrayed his confusion:

[Huh? Isn’t this sort of thing usually given to the highest-ranking official in the team? Why give it to me?]

Many officials silently answered in their hearts: Because they need a reason to promote you.

As for the Imperial Sword itself, there was no need for further explanation. After all, the emperor could do whatever he wanted—because he could, and he was willful.

Author’s Note:

The prohibition of merchants from taking the imperial examinations is inspired by the early Tang Dynasty:

“Merchants and artisans shall not join the ranks of scholars.”

— Old Book of Tang

[By the way, during the later Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties, most of the time, the children of merchants were allowed to participate in the imperial examinations. (The phrase “most of the time” is used because there were still periods of prohibition, such as at the start of the Song dynasty. This restriction was only lifted during the reign of Emperor Yingzong of Song.)]

Bai Juyi once spoke in defense of merchants:

*”Seek only the virtuous; what is there to despise in lowly origins? Among the outstanding scholars, how can one abandon them simply because of their lineage? For example, the local examinations might sometimes include those registered as merchants. If they are not of our social class, we may suspect they mix weeds with orchids. But how can one forsake the exceptional among them? It is true that some may be flawed, but one cannot disregard their talents because of this.

Just as one picks gold from gravel, should one reject it simply because of its unrefined origin? Just as one selects wood from mountain pines, should one abandon it merely because of its lowly growth? The fear should only be in selecting the unworthy; one cannot discard people due to their background.

Especially since there are precedents—some of the brightest minds of the age have emerged from humble origins, such as cattle doctors or merchant families. Their wisdom and accomplishments prove that these restrictions are unnecessary. To set limits on such people in the common examination process is inappropriate.”*

— Collected Writings of Tang Dynasty

The “buying deer to destroy Chu” anecdote refers to the story of Guan Zhong, the Prime Minister of the State of Qi.

Regarding the “Money Collecting Officials” (捉錢令史):

In the early Tang dynasty, merchants primarily entered officialdom through donations of wealth, being granted “sealed titles,” serving as “Money Collecting Officials,” or receiving recommendations and support from others.

“The Chinese disposition tends to favor compromise and balance.”

— Lu Xun

The anecdote about public behavior comes from:

*At the time, Li Bangyan, a subordinate prime minister known for ingratiating himself, would often perform as an entertainer at banquets, mixing market jokes and humor to amuse the audience. He was mockingly referred to as the “Profligate Prime Minister.”

One day, at a banquet, he had dragons painted onto raw silk clinging to his body. As he prepared to display his “artistry,” he removed his clothing, revealing his tattoos, and cracked crude jokes. The emperor raised a staff to strike him, but he climbed up a tree to avoid punishment. When the empress observed this from inside, she issued an order, saying, “You may come down now.”

Li Bangyan replied, “The golden oriole is peeking at me, so I dare not descend.”*

— The Anecdotes of the Xuanhe Era of the Great Song Dynasty

(Translation: During a banquet, Prime Minister Li Bangyan appeared naked to showcase his tattoos and cracked vulgar jokes. The emperor, enraged, tried to strike him, but Li climbed a tree and refused to come down. Even after the empress intervened, he continued his antics.)

[This is a hybrid work blending historical records and fictional anecdotes. It references many historical texts and poetry from the Song-Jin confrontation era, primarily in a chronological style. However, many of the historical materials are directly copied with little embellishment.]

About bowls with erotic illustrations:

“As a child, I visited the homes of some powerful and wealthy families and saw wine cups and tea bowls from the Longqing Kiln. All of them were painted with depictions of men and women engaged in intimate acts. It is said that Emperor Muzong [of the Ming dynasty] had a fondness for indulgence, which led to the imperial command to produce such items.”

— Miscellaneous Records of the Wanli Era