# Chapter 1
The eighteenth generation of the Da Shao Dynasty, twelfth year of the DeZhi reign.
In the great hall, a certain minister at the front of the line was enumerating the crimes of another minister—taking bribes, selling official positions, bullying the common people—requesting the emperor seated high on the dragon throne to deliver the final verdict. Then another minister stepped forward to plead for the accused, saying the man had given his entire life to the service of the state, that if not for his contributions, he at least had his hard work, that he had simply made a momentary mistake and was hoping for imperial mercy, and so on. The first minister immediately retorted that the other minister's evil deeds had persisted for a long time and were far from a momentary lapse, and so forth.
In short, they were arguing over a fat old man kneeling on the ground, debating whether to send him up the sword mountain or kick him into the oil cauldron.
Standing at the very back, Li Congqing would nod along every so often, as if in full agreement, though one could never tell which side he was agreeing with—all nods, foolproof.
"Your Majesty, this old minister has been framed by villains!" The fat old man cried with tears and pleas.
The young emperor, who had been listening quietly to both sides, raised the corner of his mouth slightly, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. He spoke unhurriedly in his clear voice: "Oh? Which villain dares to fabricate such well-evidenced charges to frame you? Speak, and I shall do you justice."
The emperor's single sentence silenced the bickering ministers. They all fell mute, too terrified to speak. Anyone who couldn't see the emperor's displeasure wasn't fit to be an official.
Li Congqing continued nodding, even more frequently now, his head dropping lower and lower, almost touching the ground.
The emperor's sharp gaze swept across the ministers and paused on the back of Li Congqing's head.
"Li Congqing." The emperor called softly.
Li Congqing nodded again but didn't respond.
Geng Baizuo, standing closest to Li Congqing, urgently poked him with his elbow, but still got no response. Geng Baizuo was practically dying of anxiety.
This airhead was actually falling asleep again!
"Vice Minister of Rites Li Congqing." The emperor called again with patience, his mellow voice soft and deep, not sounding particularly angry.
But the ministers were still breaking out in cold sweats, all thinking blackly: just where did this Li Congqing get the nerve to repeatedly fall asleep in the court hall? He really was courting death!
Yet this courting-death Li Congqing had stood in that position for six years. The emperor neither wanted his life nor could find a reason to demote him, driving him out of the great hall. He just muddled through as an idle official with neither merit nor fault—never promoted, never demoted, stuck in the middle.
The emperor subtly gestured to his personal attendant, Wei Xiaomiao, who walked over from the side of the hall to Li Congqing's side and said gently: "Minister Li, His Majesty is calling you."
Geng Baizuo used even more force with his elbow, nearly shoving Li Congqing off balance. Wei Xiaomiao reached out to steady him.
Li Congqing raised his head slowly, blinking his perpetually tired, dazed eyes, and noticed the emperor looking down at him from above.
What?
"Li Congqing." The emperor called again.
Li Congqing straightened up and respectfully responded: "This humble official is here."
"What do you think?"
Think what? Li Congqing blinked his confused eyes again, looking at the ministers who had stepped forward. He gave an equivocal answer: "Your Majesty, Minister Huang's words are most correct, and Minister Gao's arguments are also quite reasonable. This humble official greatly agrees with both ministers' statements. As for Minister Chen..."
What exactly was making that guy kneeling there shaking so hard that even his fatty flesh was splashing water?
"How so?" The emperor's smile deepened at the corners of his mouth.
All the ministers thought the emperor clearly wanted to make things difficult for him, and couldn't help but feel a bit gleeful, wondering whether the emperor would let him off this time, or strip his official hat on the spot, or drag him out for a beating and demotion?
"Minister Li, His Majesty is asking for your opinion on Minister Chen's crimes of taking bribes, selling official positions, and bullying the common people." Wei Xiaomiao reminded him, restating the emperor's question clearly.
Only then did Li Congqing realize what all the noise was about that had been disturbing his nap. He slowly deployed his old trick, using subtle deflections: "Your Majesty, as the saying goes, 'Not in one's position, don't discuss one's affairs.' This humble official dares not, nor should he, have any opinion on Minister Chen's matter."
It was the same as saying nothing—rubbish! The ministers all thought in unison.
The emperor didn't get angry or continue to make things difficult. He just smiled, withdrew his gaze, and continued discussing with the other ministers, no longer bothering with him. In the other ministers' eyes, the emperor simply brushed Li Congqing aside with a laugh, not regarding him as worth their attention.
And Li Congqing also didn't seem to mind the situation at all—no embarrassment, no panic. He stood obediently, minimizing his nodding as much as possible, secretly making his one hundred and first resolution: to master the art of dozing to perfection, flawlessly!
Now, about this person Li Congqing—he had no great virtues, no great flaws either. His appearance was average, his intelligence average, his character average, even in the court he held an average position. In short, he was an all-around mediocre person, perfectly embodying the "Doctrine of the Mean."
By rights, such a person with no achievements and no mistakes shouldn't be able to rise in rank or enter the great hall. Had it not been for saving the emperor's life six years ago by taking a sword from an assassin, earning merit for the court, he would never have been promoted from a fifth-rank officer in the Ministry of Revenue to a third-rank Vice Minister of Rites, gaining access to the morning court sessions.
Though he'd nearly lost his life from that sword thrust, entering the great hall was undoubtedly a prime opportunity to shine. Yet he never sought speaking opportunities, always drifting away or dozing off instead. This made countless ambitious, talented young men burn with jealousy, publicly denouncing him for "occupying a seat without doing the job."
When someone mentioned this low opinion to him, he just sighed: "Ai, how can you call the court a toilet? If the court really is a toilet, then court officials would become a kind of... white, chubby, wiggling little creature, right?"
This saying spread, and those indignant young men were so agitated they beat their chests and stamped their feet. They wrote a joint petition to impeach him, charging him with "defaming the court," and begged the emperor to punish him severely.
The emperor summoned him to the study specifically to ask whether he had indeed said such highly disrespectful words—that the court was a toilet, that court officials were dung worms.
"Your humble official would never dare defame the court or its officials in such a manner. The person who said the court was a toilet wasn't me." Li Congqing's face showed complete innocence, yet he showed no sign of feeling wronged either.
Logically speaking, his answer was indeed correct.
The emperor smiled dismissively and said, "You person—should I call you clever or foolish?"
"Your Majesty is wise." Li Congqing lowered his brows, his expression as sincere as could be.
"Fine then." The emperor dropped the matter, writing directly on the petition: "The speaker was unintentional; the listener took it to heart."
Those eight red characters made those angry young men slink away with flat noses, realizing that if things went badly, the charge of "defaming the court" might come back to haunt them. Though still dissatisfied, they continued their grumbling but stopped writing joint petitions, letting the matter drop quietly.
Li Congqing emerged unscathed, continuing his peaceful life as an idle official.
Now, the eighteenth generation of the Da Shao Dynasty enjoyed prosperity within and stability without, with the nation at peace in all directions, no internal troubles or external threats. Major matters besides unavoidable natural disasters were at most like Minister Chen's crimes of taking bribes and selling positions. Besides, there weren't corrupt officials kneeling there every day for fresh gossip, so the daily morning court was actually quite dull, mostly repetitive routine reports, rarely any dramatic palace intrigue. One really couldn't blame the Duke of Zhou for always seeking out Li Congqing.
Those standing below could doze off, but those sitting above couldn't—no matter how boring, they had to remain spirited and majestic. The Da Shao Dynasty's ancestral laws clearly stipulated that the emperor must personally hold morning court daily and could not be negligent. Fortunately, every reigning emperor had fulfilled this duty diligently, governing with benevolence, resulting in Da Shao's unshakeable national strength for several hundred years.
A flourishing era doesn't need heroes of overwhelming power, and such peaceful days had cultivated an idle official like Li Congqing with no grand ambitions—nothing strange about that.
Such an unremarkable idle official should by rights not catch the emperor's eye, yet the emperor had from some unknown time begun occasionally summoning Li Congqing alone for unknown discussions, and during outings, banquets, or hunts, he would keep Li Congqing at his side. Though the two rarely spoke, and their interactions couldn't be called warm or intimate, the emperor sometimes seemed to almost ignore his presence, as if there were no such person beside him.
Some perceptive ministers felt this was strange, sometimes sensing something off, yet couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Why would the emperor keep this "extra person" at his side? If anything, it should be noble lords and senior ministers, or even a handsome man like the Grand Scholar Lou Chuyun, which would be an elegant and pleasant sight. But Li Congqing was neither a noble lord nor a senior minister—his appearance was at best mediocre and refined, far from Lou Chuyun, who was called "the Pan An of the Age." Even Wei Xiaomiao was more handsome than him.
Hard to understand, truly hard to understand.
One suspicious minister happened to mention this to the Sixth Prince, the emperor's most beloved younger brother. The prince bluntly replied: "If you ministers could fathom the emperor's thoughts, you might as well be the emperor yourselves."
"This official is terrified, this official is terrified." From then on, the ministers dared no longer freely speculate or discuss the emperor's relationship with Li Congqing. After all, from any angle, Li Congqing appeared harmless and couldn't possibly obstruct anything.
That said, from the emperor's perspective in the great hall at this moment, Li Congqing, though no longer nodding frequently, appeared somewhat restless—frowning, biting his lower lip to suppress a yawn, occasionally rubbing his waist, secretly pinching his legs, as if he could barely stand.
After discussing the summer flood prevention of the Bai River, the emperor said: "Today's session ends here. Court is adjourned."
"This official and others respectfully see off Your Majesty."
The emperor departed amid the orderly chorus of farewells.
*Whew—* Finally can relax. Li Congqing eagerly stepped out of the great hall, wanting nothing more than to rush back to his office and immediately sleep.
He had barely taken a few steps when Wei Xiaomiao's voice came from behind: "Minister Li, please hold."
Li Congqing frowned, really wanting to pretend he was deaf, but he reluctantly stopped and turned. "Minister Wei, is there something?"
"His Majesty summons you to the imperial study."
"Now?"
"Yes, please go immediately. Do not keep His Majesty waiting."
Li Congqing wanted to complain that he could just let him sleep first before coming, but who would dare delay an imperial summons? He wasn't tired of living. So he followed Wei Xiaomiao toward the imperial study.
"Minister Wei, thank you just now." Li Congqing said sincerely.
"Just call me Xiaomiao, no need for 'Minister Wei.' It's awkward to keep calling me 'Minister' like that—it embarrasses me." Wei Xiaomiao said.
"Minister Wei is the chief of palace internal affairs and His Majesty's closest personal attendant. Asking a mere Vice Minister like me to address you by name would be the real embarrassment."
"Minister Li is joking with me again."
"Seriously though, Xiaomiao, do you know why His Majesty summoned me?"
"Minister Li will naturally know soon enough."
"Can I just not want to know anything?" Li Congqing still couldn't help but苦着脸 mutter, now he just wanted to sleep!
"The emperor's thoughts, Minister Li should understand better than I do."
"I have no desire whatsoever to understand what he's thinking." Li Congqing murmured under his breath, though this sentence really couldn't be said aloud.
Soon, the two arrived at the imperial study.
"Your Majesty, Minister Li has arrived." Wei Xiaomiao announced at the door.
"Let him in."
"Yes. Minister Li, please enter."
Li Congqing didn't perform the grand kneeling salute, only bowing respectfully to the emperor Song Yu seated behind the imperial desk. "This humble official pays respects to Your Majesty."
After he entered the study, Wei Xiaomiao closed the door from outside, leaving him alone with the emperor.
"Come to my side."
Li Congqing walked to Song Yu's side as instructed, respectfully half-lowering his eyes.
Song Yu looked up at