Chapter 54: Review and Reflection

Imperial bodyguards were all scions of noble houses or descendants of high-ranking officials who inherited their positions through imperial grace. Their duty was to stand guard in the presence of the Emperor, the most important aspect being to familiarize themselves with the sovereign and earn his trust.

Whenever the imperial court faced a crisis and the Emperor distrusted the regular officials, or when various government departments locked horns and failed to maintain an even-handed approach, the Emperor could directly dispatch the imperial bodyguards to intervene.

Acting as the Emperor's eyes and ears, they could also independently shoulder the responsibilities of imperial commissioners.

There was also an unwritten rule: once an imperial guard began participating in a specific affair, it meant he was about to be transferred away.

The moment a bodyguard became involved in external matters, his ambitions would be stirred, making it difficult for him to stand guard with a tranquil mind. At the same time, having become entangled with the outside world, he was no longer a blank slate.

Generally, wherever he was sent on assignment, that was where he would eventually take up office—at the very least, receiving a lateral transfer.

If the Emperor ordered him to investigate the Bureau of Military Affairs, then barring any accidents, he would be reassigned there.

The Commissioner of Military Affairs and his deputies held the second-rank status. As a third-rank commander of the bodyguards, he would instantly become a figure of real power within the Bureau. Although he was still far from securing a seat for the Zheng family in the agency, it was a very promising beginning.

At the same time, Zheng Bangcheng was no fool. He was well aware that the Emperor would not choose him without a reason.

His backing of He Chong'an in pitting himself against the Duke of Ningguo was something that could not be concealed from others.

Zheng Bangcheng quietly pondered in his heart: "Could it be that the Emperor is displeased with the Prince of Jin? He Chong'an made the right bet. Is this a reward for my support of He Chong'an?"

For a moment, his thoughts raced wildly, but one thing was certain.

No matter what He Chong'an had done, he now had to express his sincere gratitude to him. Furthermore, he should avoid offending the young man whenever possible. That fellow bit with a ferocity and precision that meant he must never be allowed to turn around and bite back in the future.

"He Chong'an," the Emperor said, a trace of warmth in his tone, as if he were not the person who had just intended to execute him. "For He Zizhong to have a son like this, he may truly be considered fortunate."

He Chong'an breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that this hurdle had finally been cleared.

"This is nothing more than what your subject ought to do."

"Well said, but the He family has served the country well, and such efforts cannot go unrewarded," the Emperor declared. "The Prince of Jin must not contend with the common people for profit. This Fengyu Firm shall be bestowed upon the He family. It is my hope that the He family will live up to the name of 'Fengyu' and help the people lead a more affluent and prosperous life."

As the sovereign who held the hearts of all under heaven, the most crucial tools were the twin levers of reward and punishment.

He could not let an honest man suffer a loss.

Marquis Wuning, He Zizhong, was precisely such an honest man, and thus he had to be rewarded. At the same time, this effortlessly forged a mortal enmity between the Marquis of Wuning's estate and the Prince of Jin.

It served two purposes with a single stroke.

He Chong'an was overjoyed.

With assets worth hundreds of thousands, the Fengyu Firm held a significant position even in the capital, where nobles gathered like clouds. Naturally, it was a lucrative piece of fat.

Yet, what He Chong'an valued even more was the firm's control over the coal industry.

As mentioned earlier, Mentougou was the capital's largest coal-producing region simply because of its proximity to the city.

While He Chong'an could certainly locate numerous other coal mines, none could overall match the convenience of Mentougou.

He could forgo the other assets of the Fengyu Firm, but by keeping the coal mines firmly in his grasp, he completed his control over the entire industrial chain of coal mining and coal briquettes.

And the coal industry could spawn many other ventures.

Coupled with the conventions of this era:

Since the Emperor had personally bestowed the property upon the He family, most nobles would deliberately refrain from competing with them in this domain.

To many at present, the coal industry was merely a means of keeping warm. Only He Chong'an understood how massive an industrial chain it truly was, and how vast the profit margins it represented.

As for offending the Prince of Jin on this account:

He Chong'an had made thorough preparations for such an outcome.

First, he had no choice.

From the moment he began opposing the Fengyu Firm, the offense had already been given.

Second, an imperial prince who was widely regarded as the rightful heir to the throne, yet remained unappointed as the Crown Prince, spoke volumes in itself.

If the Prince of Jin were ever going to become the Crown Prince, he would have done so long ago; why wait until today?

Since he could never ascend to the position of Crown Prince, his future standing would be no different from that of the Duke of Ningguo.

What, then, did He Chong'an have to fear?

"Your subject thanks Your Majesty for this boundless grace."

This Laba banquet, fraught with matters concerning both the He and Pei families, finally drew to a close.

The Imperial Noble Consort also bestowed upon Lady He various silk fabrics, embroidery patterns, and other gifts, which need not be detailed at length.

Lady He was, after all, a conventional woman. Today's events had been filled with hidden daggers, and He Chong'an had danced on the edge of life and death several times over, none of which she could comprehend. She could only repeat mindlessly, "His Majesty is wise and brilliant, and the imperial grace is boundless," seemingly incapable of saying anything else.

When the rest of the He family learned of the outcome, they were likewise overflowing with joy.

He Chong'an understood that this was only natural.

He Chong'an held no rose-tinted illusions about the Great Xia court, viewing the Emperor purely as a political figure. But the He family was different.

Although the family originated from surrendered generals, they had served the court for generations, and countless members had shed their blood and died on the battlefield for the dynasty. Their emotional attachment to the Great Xia court was naturally of a different order. To put it simply, as long as the Emperor committed no gross moral failing, the He family would remain loyal ministers of Great Xia.

At a single command, every male of the clan would willingly fight and die for the Emperor to the very last man.

He Chong'an had no intention of explaining these political maneuvers to them.

Most of them would likely fail to understand and might instead view He Chong'an as a dark and scheming individual.

Lady He, however, remained worried that offending the Prince of Jin would bring future calamities, but He Chong'an placated her with a few brief words and dropped the subject.

After the commotion finally subsided,

He Chong'an lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

It seemed that his nervous system still retained the lingering adrenaline of the court's fierce struggles.

Though it had appeared to be merely a brief exchange of words, He Chong'an's brain had been operating at absolute maximum capacity. The energy consumed in the process was no less than that of a physical brawl.

Even at this moment, he could not simply shut off his mind.

"In this game of chess, I was too careless."

"What seemed accidental was, in truth, inevitable."

This confrontation was not something He Chong'an had desired to see, yet it was bound to happen.

He had naively believed that by introducing inventions and improving efficiency, he could allow the He family to gain the first-mover advantage and reap profits in a blue ocean.

The reality of the situation, however, struck him a ruthless blow.

The realm of Great Xia had reached the very pinnacle of its prosperity.

The Founding Emperor and his successor had established the enterprise, while the Ming and Xuan emperors had maintained it. The current sovereign was exceptionally astute and resolute, pushing Great Xia to the absolute zenith where prosperity gives way to decline.

The essence of the cyclical pattern of history is, in truth, that the upper strata consume too much meat, leaving insufficient beasts of burden for the lower strata.

For the privileged upper class, fighting to the death among peers of the same social tier was highly uneconomical. Colluding with one another to peacefully feast upon the flesh and blood of those below was always the optimal choice.

Why, then, did middle and late-stage dynasties invariably experience intense factional struggles? Did they not understand this principle?

It was precisely because the beasts of burden were no longer sufficient—there was simply not enough to eat.

They had no choice but to seize the beasts of burden belonging to others.

And Great Xia was now in this very predicament.

Looking across the entire dynasty, every single tier was crawling with blood-sucking parasites—or rather, vested interests.

His prior expectation of enjoying a share of the meat through scientific and technological prowess was an absolute impossibility.

If they were to try again, it would merely be a repetition of the present scenario.

Did He Chong'an unify the coal market in Beijing this time through technological superiority and market competition? No, he did it through raw political power.

This truly proved that even if Isaac Newton were to transmigrate here, he would still have to learn how to drink a toast of submission.