A Scummy Alpha Emperor Transmigrated and Marked the Powerful Prime Minister - Chapter 9

Today is the day for the Grand Secretariat’s deliberative session. Because the Emperor is young, aside from the Grand Court Assemblies held on the 1st and 15th of each month, the young Emperor originally did not participate in the regular daily court sessions.

In the past two years, however, she has begun attending once every three days. There was no early morning court session today, but Lin Jiayue still rose early.

How early, exactly? The sky was still pitch black; by the look of it, it was around five or six in the morning.

There was no helping it—even after transmigrating to ancient times, one still had to attend classes.

Lin Jiayue’s schedule involved rising “earlier than a rooster.” Before winter, classes began at five o’clock; after the onset of winter, they were moved to six. The morning began with a lecture from the Hanlin Academy instructors, followed by participation in the court deliberations. Once the deliberations concluded, it was time for Lu Siling’s lesson, followed by rotating lectures from the other four Grand Secretaries.

After lunch, starting from one o’clock, she would review what she learned in the morning. At three o’clock, she would head to the martial arts field to study horsemanship and archery. From four to five o’clock, she studied etiquette and calligraphy.

Only then was a day’s study considered complete—and that process included “administrative internships” in between.

After dinner, she was forced to go for a walk. While walking, a eunuch would read aloud certain memorials specifically selected by Lu Siling for her to hear. She then had to provide her reflections, which the eunuch would report back to Lu Siling. After the walk, she returned to bathe and change; she was required to be in bed after the curfew and was strictly forbidden from staying up late.

She was granted two days of rest per month, on the 1st and 15th. Because these were the days of the Grand Court Assemblies, the Emperor had to attend and also rise early. Since no one knew what time the court would adjourn, these were designated as her rest days.

In essence, Lin Jiayue’s time was micromanaged to death by Lu Siling. The original owner loathed this arrangement; she wanted to indulge herself.

Lin Jiayue simply felt that getting up this early was miserable. She was woken in the morning by Wei Jinming, and the moment she painfully climbed out of bed, she began to miss the “bliss” of an 8:00 AM college class. She used to think a winter 8:00 AM class was the most painful thing in the world; turns out, there’s such a thing as a 5:00 AM class.

She felt like a total idiot.

There was no way around it; she had skipped class yesterday, and Wei Jinming had lied, saying she was in poor health. Since she was determined to excel at the “profession” of being Emperor and raise Lu Siling’s favorability, she had to consider: what kind of student does a good teacher love most?

A top student—and specifically, an obedient, rule-abiding top student.

It was just studying. In her previous life, she had gotten into a 985 university (top-tier in China) as a medical student. If nothing else, her rote memorization was world-class. Besides, without a talent for learning, she never would have made it to graduate school. Her university had offered her a guaranteed recommendation for grad school, but she turned it down because she wanted to switch majors, though she still passed the entrance exams through hard work.

In short: If studying hasn’t killed you, study until it does.

She didn’t believe for a second she couldn’t be a good Emperor—at the very least, she’d be better than her predecessor. Lin Jiayue pumped herself up mentally, building psychological defenses against the agony of a 5:00 AM start.

A grand Emperor, shivering miserably in the cold wind—who would believe it if word got out?

She straightened her crimson, round-collared robe embroidered with gold silk and allowed Wei Jinming to help her into a white fox-fur cloak. Winter in the Great Zhou was quite cold; this was the north, and she only felt a hint of warmth once the fox fur was on her body.

As she stepped out, several waiting palace servants hurried forward. “Long live the Emperor, peace be upon you.”

These people looked as high-spirited as fighting crickets; they looked like they could pick a fight with a dog on the street. It was just dawn—how did they have so much energy?

“What’s wrong with them?” Lin Jiayue asked curiously, leaning toward Wei Jinming as she sat in her palanquin.

Wei Jinming squinted with a look of pure joy. “Your Majesty is wise; everyone is happy to follow a master like you.”

Tsk, a total flatterer.

Lin Jiayue looked to the sky, speechless. Forget it; what could she possibly get out of a conversation like this? She finally understood what it meant to be “The Lonely One.” When talking to those around her, they only ever offered flattery. It was too easy to lose oneself.

But she liked it—Wei Jinming and the others provided top-tier emotional value.

Wei Jinming was genuinely excited. Life had been hard for the servants of Daming Palace; despite serving the Emperor, everyone looked down on them. Wei Jinming should have been the most powerful eunuch in the palace, yet she had so many people above her she could barely count them. Everyone’s hope was that once the Emperor took full power, they could finally reap the benefits. Now that those days seemed within reach, everyone was radiant with joy.

Regarding yesterday’s confrontation with the Empress Dowager, everyone assumed it was the Empress Dowager who had blinked. In reality, Lu Siling had won, and Lin Jiayue was just a support—not even a top-tier one, a Bronze-tier support at best.

However, successfully keeping Cui Bai and throwing Wang Duoshi into prison meant the outer court would have to reconsider whether they could continue to “infantilize” the Emperor. Lin Jiayue’s participation wasn’t for nothing; winning a team fight comes with rewards.

For instance, a vacancy had opened in the Directorate of Ceremonies. If Cui Bai were convicted, the position of Commander of the Imperial City Guard would also be vacant. Once the City Guard was purged, who knew how many more positions would open up.

Just as Lin Jiayue was about to ponder how to negotiate terms with Lu Siling, the palanquin suddenly stopped. She blinked. We’re already here?

Wait, why the heck was she taking a palanquin for such a short distance? She had subconsciously assumed Daming Palace was so massive that traveling between halls required a long journey, but in reality, it wasn’t that far.

Lin Jiayue stepped down and entered Wenhua Hall. The officials from the Hanlin Academy immediately knelt to pay their respects. She waved them off. “Begin.”

The perk of being an Emperor in class was that she didn’t even have to flip the pages; someone was there to turn the book and take notes for her. She kept her hands on a hand-warmer wrapped in fur, with charcoal fires burning nearby. Even after taking off her cloak, she didn’t feel the slightest bit cold.

The three teachers from the Hanlin Academy only dared to lecture; they didn’t say a single extra word, let alone dare to quiz the Emperor. Only the Grand Secretaries had the status to question the Emperor—and in truth, only Lu Siling actually did so. These officials were terrified that any question they asked or word they said might not be permitted by the Grand Chancellor. The content of the Hanlin officials’ daily lectures was vetted and approved by Lu Siling beforehand.

Lu Siling wanted to mold the young Emperor into a sage-like monarch who could inherit the reforms; she was unwilling to allow even the slightest error. Once, the original owner had asked a question the Hanlin teacher didn’t dare answer. In her confusion, she had Wei Jinming investigate, only to find the teacher was terrified of the Grand Chancellor. For a subject to refuse an answer to a sovereign out of fear of a minister was a direct slap to the Emperor’s face. In her fury, the original owner had taken three days of sick leave—until Lu Siling appeared at her bedside with a cold face, watching the physicians treat her, before “escorting” her back to Wenhua Hall.

The seeds of conflict were sown then; the sovereign began to suspect the subject.

If the original owner felt exhausted, Lu Siling was certainly more so. She rose even earlier, taught classes after the morning session, and handled Grand Secretariat affairs in the afternoon—the lights in the Secretariat often burned through the night. The two were like an older sister and a younger sister; the younger sister didn’t understand the older, while the older sister felt everything she did was for the younger’s own good.

As class ended and Lin Jiayue was preparing to leave, a question suddenly occurred to her.

“According to the Rites of Zhou, King Wen was capped at fifteen and began to rule upon being capped. How old am I?”

Today, the three scholars had lectured on the Rites of Zhou. Since they wanted her to learn the Rites, they had to be prepared to be convinced by them. She just wanted to ask these people, who sanctimoniously told her to follow the Rites, how they justified an eighteen-year-old sovereign still not having personal rule.

The “Pure Stream” faction in the court spoke of Rites, and the Hanlin scholars spoke of Rites, but they only required the Emperor to follow them. More importantly, if her remark spread, she would find out who supported her personal rule and who opposed it. It would also let people know she had the ambition to advance.

The original owner had tried too hard to please the “Two Palaces,” often saying that with the Empress Dowagers and the Grand Chancellor present, she could rest easy leaving the court affairs to them, hoping to lower their guard. But that method only showed her weakness as a ruler—and a weak ruler is not worth following.

Lin Jiayue thought: If I can rule early, why wait until twenty? She needed power, whether for self-protection or for her future life in seclusion. Being trapped in the deep palace, every word she said had to be relayed by Wei Jinming—and in the past, even Wei Jinming’s loyalty had wavered.

Lin Jiayue left immediately after asking the question, leaving the three scholars to deal with the fallout. She didn’t care what happened to them; she had made her point. It wasn’t as if there were no voices in the court saying she should take power already. If the Empress Dowager and the Grand Chancellor held the reins and refused to let her ascend, were they not usurping imperial authority?

She didn’t expect an immediate answer; she was just expressing her stance. Surely this news would soon spread through the palace and out to the streets. She was curious to see what Lu Siling would think once she heard.

After finishing breakfast, she couldn’t wait to head to the Grand Secretariat. The Grand Secretaries were busy deliberating and wouldn’t have time to teach her, otherwise she might not have been able to “audit” the session.

Lin Jiayue casually ate two beef buns, three roasted cakes, and a bowl of mutton soup. Tsk, my appetite has really gone down since transmigrating.

Having just eaten, she was afraid of indigestion and gaining weight if she took the palanquin, so she walked to Zichen Hall. She heard faint voices from outside the hall. Just as she was about to step in, a refined, slightly aged voice spoke up unexpectedly.

“Is the Sacred Person at peace?”

“I am at peace.”

She glanced over and remembered from her memories that this man was Zhou Shouzheng. Usually, he arrived late and left early, specializing in “slacking off” at work. Now that he was old and on the verge of retirement, he was even more brazen; showing up for even half a day was considered diligent. For today’s session, Lu Siling had given prior notice that not one of the five Grand Secretaries could be missing, which was why Zhou Shouzheng had finally deigned to show up, albeit late.

“Good morning, Teacher Zhou.” All five Grand Secretaries were her teachers; calling them “Teacher” was only proper. “Teacher Zhou arrives just in time; you aren’t late yet.”

Since the Emperor hadn’t arrived, it wasn’t technically late. Lin Jiayue didn’t realize that subjects weren’t supposed to arrive after the Emperor, let alone chat outside the door.

Zhou Shouzheng: “…” He really wanted to gag the Emperor.

At that moment, Guang Wei walked out from inside, a look of indignation still on her face. Seeing the young Emperor, she immediately regained her composure. Her salute was seamless: “Long live Your Majesty, peace be upon you.”

“Mhm.” Lin Jiayue nodded, curious about what had happened inside.

Zhou Shouzheng followed silently behind her, devoid of curiosity, his eyes as calm as an ancient well—like someone who had seen through the red dust of the world and was ready to become a monk at any moment. He had long since lost all expectations for the young Emperor; only that fool Lu Siling thought the kid could still be taught. Sigh, Lu Siling is truly hateful—why won’t she approve my retirement papers?

The two walked into Zichen Hall together. Just as Lin Jiayue was about to turn back to speak, the little old man, Zhou Shouzheng, had vanished. Looking again, he had already hidden himself behind the other Grand Secretaries. He runs fast—with a body that healthy, he could work another thirty years.

“Is the Sacred Person at peace?” The Grand Secretaries bowed under Lu Siling’s lead.

Lin Jiayue waved her hand. “I am at peace.”

Lu Siling was dressed no differently than yesterday, but the aura she radiated was even colder and heavier. It felt like the Lu Siling from the later parts of the novel—her eyes were perfectly calm, revealing no emotion, making those who looked at her feel a chill in their hearts.

It made Lin Jiayue subconsciously wonder if she had done something wrong again.