A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

Fang Fuyao knelt very steadily.

"Your subject, Fang Fuyao, thanks Your Majesty."

Her kneeling made the faces of several former officials in the Hall of Supreme Harmony even more unpleasant than before.

Imperial Advisor.

These two words sound vague, but it is precisely because they are vague that they are the most troublesome.

The ministers of the Six Ministries could use their official positions to exert control, the censors could use ancestral rules to challenge officials, and the prime minister could be restrained by court discussions. But what about the Imperial Preceptor?

Although he was an official, he was not among the Six Ministries.

Although they were not officials, they were personally appointed by the emperor and could stand before the imperial desk to discuss important military and national affairs.

Wei Zhao saw it clearly.

These people were scared.

Just be afraid.

What the new Wu Dynasty needs most right now is not to reassure the old officials, but to keep them from sleeping soundly.

They only become agitated when they can't sleep soundly.

It's all in chaos. It's easy to investigate Hua Jieyu, easy to copy Nie Yinniang, and easy for him to kill.

"Step back."

Wei Zhaodao.

Fang Fuyao nodded.

"Your subject takes his leave."

She turned and walked out.

As he passed by the Vice Minister of Rites, the minister lowered his head even further, his sleeves taut.

Wei Zhao almost burst out laughing.

They dared to jump out and say that someone was young and had no official position, but now they don't even dare to look at them.

That's how the imperial court is.

If you have prestige, the emperor's backing, and the ability to pierce their throats, they will be afraid.

If you have nothing, no matter how right you are, they will just use the word "ancestral rule" to suppress you.

Fang Fuyao left the hall.

The former officials remained kneeling, and no one dared to move.

Wei Zhao glanced at them.

"Did you hear everything?"

The Vice Minister of Rites pressed his forehead to the ground.

"We have heard that."

"Then remember it clearly."

Wei Zhao tapped his fingers lightly on the imperial desk.

"The new Wu Dynasty has no shortage of people who know how to kowtow. From now on, if anyone tries to use ancestral rules to prevent me from appointing people, I will make them kneel before the ancestral tablets and copy the edict of the fall of the old Wei Dynasty a hundred times."

The backs of several former officials tensed even more.

it is good.

I understand.

Wei Zhao waved his hand.

"roll."

This time, no one dared to think the word was too bold.

They retreated very quickly, as if there were knives behind them.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony finally quieted down.

Wei Zhao leaned back in his chair and raised his hand to press his temples.

When fighting Wang Jing before, the enemy was in front, and he only needed to aim at where the tip of his spear would strike.

But now, sitting in this chair, I have to think before I speak.

If Fang Fuyao is appointed as the Imperial Advisor, what will the old ministers think?

What will the powerful families think?

Will those from humble backgrounds who received the talent recruitment notice think that Emperor Xinwu was truly bold in employing people?

Would veteran soldiers feel that the emperor was beginning to favor civil officials over military ones?

Every step needs to be calculated.

Killing is easy.

Sitting on the dragon throne is no simple matter.

The real thrill comes from beating people up, not from reviewing official documents, and certainly not from going around in circles with these old fogies.

Soft footsteps came from the side of the hall.

Su Qingyun walked over.

She did not bow like a foreign official, but simply placed the account book in her hand on the side of the imperial desk and looked down at him.

"Tired?"

Wei Zhao glanced at her.

"It's alright. If you bring two more account books, I really won't be able to handle it."

Su Qingyun's eyes crinkled into a smile.

"Your Majesty has now learned to cheat."

"It happened before."

"I used to only dare to play at home."

She walked around the imperial desk and came to his side.

Before Wei Zhao could speak, Su Qingyun had already raised her hand to press down on his shoulder and sat down on his lap.

The dress brushed against the dragon robe, very lightly.

Wei Zhao paused for a moment.

Good guy.

Is Su Qingyun here to inquire about politics, or to disrupt the morale of the army?

Su Qingyun, however, seemed oblivious and reached out to straighten a rumpled corner of his collar.

She was close by, carrying a faint scent of ink and account books, yet her voice was incredibly gentle.

"How is it?"

She moved closer, her voice so soft that only the two of them could hear it.

"Available?"

Wei Zhao looked down at her.

Su Qingyun still had that gentle smile on her face, but her eyes held a calculating look, as well as a hint of intimacy that only he could understand.

The slight irritation in Wei Zhao's heart was greatly suppressed by her sitting down.

This palace is too cold.

He's so cold that everyone is calculating against him, afraid of him, and even kneeling before him.

But when Su Qingyun sat on his lap, he felt that he was no longer the new Emperor Wu on the dragon throne, but still Wei Zhao of the Wei family.

"Available".

Wei Zhaodao.

"It can be put to great use."

Su Qingyun paused for a moment.

"Such high praise?"

"high."

Wei Zhao made no attempt to hide it.

"She didn't just see the chaos in front of her. She saw the path beyond the chaos."

Su Qingyun didn't speak, but listened quietly.

Wei Zhao continued, "The supply of money and provisions, the rebel kings and powerful clans, the refugees from the sacred fire, the granting of land based on military merit, and the recruitment of talented individuals regardless of social status. She connected all these things in just a few words."

That's what's truly precious.

There are too many people who know how to say nice things.

The entire court of former officials were all capable of writing eloquent and beautiful articles.

What talk of the people suffering, what talk of recuperation and restoration, what talk of His Majesty's benevolence?

When they actually asked him to come up with a solution, they started advising him to blame himself, to bow his head, and to wait.

Wait?

Wait until Han Dashan has completely emptied the Bianzhou granary?

After the powerful and wealthy families have hidden their grain in cellars, they will turn around and laugh at the new emperor who has no grain to use.

Wei Zhao disliked waiting.

What he wanted was a knife.

What Fang Fuyao handed over was not just empty words, but a knife that could pry open a deadlock.

Su Qingyun leaned against his chest and asked softly:

"If that's the case, why not just give her the position of Prime Minister? What's the meaning of appointing her as the Imperial Preceptor?"

Wei Zhao smiled.

"You're the prime minister now, but what about later?"

Wei Zhao looked at her.

"If she can truly do as she said today, help me exonerate the king, scatter the sacred flame, establish a military merit system, break the old Wei family system, and open up a path for the poor families of the world."

He paused for a moment.

"What official position do you think I should bestow upon her?"

Su Qingyun's eyes curved slightly.

"So His Majesty still leaves a path for people to get promoted."

"I am not Lu Song."

Wei Zhao twitched the corner of his mouth.

"Lu Song treats people like dogs when he uses them. When I use people, I make sure they see that there is still a way forward."

He himself was somewhat moved when he said this.

This is the most troublesome part of being an emperor.

Even if you admire someone, you can't just give them everything right away.

If you give too much, you'll put people on a hot seat.

Former officials will be jealous.

The powerful families will surround them.

Shihlin would scrutinize every word she uttered, looking for mistakes.

She herself had no way out.

Fang Fuyao is clever, but cleverness doesn't mean she can shield herself from the swords of the entire court.

She had just arrived in the capital and hadn't even settled down yet, but to put her in the position of prime minister was not an act of kindness, but rather a betrayal of her.

The Imperial Advisor is just right.

She's tall enough that she can speak.

It's quite a stretch, so much so that the old ministers aren't sure how to proceed.

Only after she gets things done can she secure the position of prime minister.

Su Qingyun nodded gently.

"I see."

She then asked, "What about the imperial court? Fang Fuyao doesn't serve in the Six Ministries, and the Imperial Advisor only offers advice. But these old officials can't be kept indefinitely, can they?"

Wei Zhao narrowed his eyes.

coming.

This is what Su Qingyun really wanted to ask.

Whether Fang Fuyao can be used is only the first step.

The second issue is who will reorganize the court.

There are ten rebel kings outside the Xinwu Dynasty, the Holy Fire Cult in Qingzhou, and a group of insects dressed in official robes in the capital.

If the insects aren't clean, the imperial edict won't even leave the palace gates. Even if it does leave, it will be gnawed to pieces on the way.

But the task of cleaning up the insects cannot be entrusted to Fang Fuyao.

She was new to the area and her foundation was not yet solid. Her reputation in the Fang family was strong in the academic community, but not in the front lines.

If she were to immediately take charge of the court, it would only draw the ire of all the old officials to her.

This is not about employing people.

This is using someone as a shield.

"Those who want to reform the court must be ruthless enough."

Wei Zhaodao.

"You also need to have a strong background."

Su Qingyun's eyes flickered.

"Fang Fuyao is new here, so it's really inappropriate for her."

"Um."

Wei Zhao nodded.

"What she should do most now is to establish a merit-based military system. The court needs a new approach."

Su Qingyun looked at him.

"Have you made your choice?"

Wei Zhao did not answer immediately.

He raised his hand and patted her head.

Su Qingyun's smile froze for a moment.

"Wei Zhao".

"Um?"

"You are the emperor now, not a three-year-old child."

"so?"

"So don't pat my head."

Wei Zhao couldn't help but laugh.

it is good.

It's more comfortable to talk like this.

Outside, a single word from him could sway the entire court.

When it comes to Su Qingyun, even a pat on the head will get you scolded.

That's more like a living person.

He was not the new Emperor Wu, the one everyone was watching and whose every word was to be etched into history.

Wei Zhao looked down at her, his voice softening.

"Pure and elegant".

"Um?"

"Among the eighteen rebel armies, there were ten rebel kings."

Su Qingyun's gaze slowly changed.

She followed Wei Zhao's gaze to the military map in the distance.

Chenqiao, Bianzhou, Qingzhou, and the capital—the places circled in vermilion ink resemble an unfinished blood feud.

Wei Zhao gently tapped her waist with his fingertips, his tone calm.

"But there are still eight left that haven't been countered, are there?"