Chapter 47: Lingering Concerns

Regarding Cai Jing’s resignation, Zhao Huan was not surprised. He nodded and said, “You left home when you were young and return now in old age. Grand Preceptor, you have devoted most of your life to the court. It is time to go home and enjoy your twilight years in peace.”

Upon hearing this, Cai Jing’s body trembled. As fine as his hometown might be, it could not compare to the splendor of Bianjing. Yet the new emperor had accepted his resignation; it was clear there was no avoiding his departure.

When Cai Jing left the palace, it was as if he had aged a decade in an instant. Although he had long foreseen that Zhao Huan would eventually move against him, he had not expected it to come so soon.

When Cai Jing arrived home, he found a crowd of Imperial Guards stationed at his gate.

Seeing Cai Jing return, Zhang Xian stepped out from the crowd, saluted him, and said, “Grand Preceptor Cai, by imperial command, we are here to assist you in gathering your belongings.”

At these words, Cai Jing’s eyes widened in shock as he looked at the Imperial Guards before him. He understood then that Zhao Huan was utterly determined to send him away. To prevent any last-minute mischief, the emperor had even dispatched the Imperial Guards.

“Thank you for His Majesty’s favor. Gentlemen, please wait outside the residence for a moment while I gather my personal effects. We will depart shortly,” Cai Jing said, his voice laced with boundless sorrow.

Zhang Xian did not make things difficult for him. His orders were simply to oversee Cai Jing’s departure and prevent any secret unrest. At this time, Cai Jing was not permitted to contact anyone.

“Grand Preceptor, you should make haste. The enemy is at our gates, and my brothers cannot linger here for long,” Zhang Xian said.

“You’re free to attend to your duties. It’s not as though I asked you to stand guard here,” Cai Jing thought bitterly, though he dared not utter such words. He knew that the intentions of the Imperial Guards were none other than Zhao Huan’s own.

When Cai Jing entered his residence, the steward, Cai Gui, hurried to meet him. “Master, something is wrong. The Imperial Guards arrived at noon and have not allowed anyone to enter or leave. What should we do?”

Cai Jing waved his hand and replied, “Pack up our valuables. Tonight, we leave Bianjing and return home!”

The final words, “return home,” were forced from Cai Jing’s lips, filled with bitterness and resignation.

Cai Jing’s household had accumulated far too many belongings over the years; it was impossible to take everything. Pressed for time, he could only bring with him the wealth and treasures amassed over many years, thinking simply that so long as he had money, he could buy anything he might need.

But this notion was naively optimistic, and it would ultimately become the direct cause of Cai Jing’s death.

By dusk, Cai Jing had finished packing. The gold, silver, and jewels alone filled ten large carts.

“General Zhang, my valuables are ready, and we can depart at any time. However, my wayward sixth son has not yet returned. I have sent men to find him. Once he arrives, we will leave,” Cai Jing said to Zhang Xian.

Zhang Xian saluted and replied, “Grand Preceptor, Lord Li Gang has already led troops to West Market to arrest all members of the East River Gang. If your sixth son is implicated, I advise you not to wait for him, lest you delay your departure and incur His Majesty’s displeasure.”

At this, Cai Jing looked up in alarm and asked, “Is my sixth son involved as well?”

Zhang Xian shrugged and said, “Grand Preceptor, you are asking the wrong person. Whether or not he is involved, you should know better than I. I am but a soldier—I know nothing of the court’s affairs.”

Hearing the veiled sarcasm in Zhang Xian’s words, Cai Jing wanted to retort but could not. In his days of power, he had often declared that military officials should not meddle in court politics—now, his own words were being used against him.

“General Zhang, would you allow this old man to go to Lord Li and inquire about my son’s situation?” Cai Jing lowered himself, referring to himself as “this old man.” Though his sixth son had always been unruly, at this moment, Cai Jing’s heart as a father longed to save his child.

“Grand Preceptor, I urge you to leave quickly. You know full well the nature of your son’s crimes. Do not bring yourself to a wretched end because of them,” Zhang Xian said.

With these words, Cai Jing stiffened where he stood.

A few years prior, who would have dared speak so to Cai Jing? But now, thirty years on the east bank, thirty years on the west—a mere military supervisor could curse him to his face.

In the end, Cai Jing had no choice but to depart. After boarding his carriage, he lifted the curtain to look out, and two streams of bitter tears rolled down his cheeks.

Zhang Xian and his men escorted Cai Jing out of the southern city before reporting back to Zhao Huan.

Li Gang and Zhu Shengfei were in the imperial study with Zhao Huan. Li Gang advised, “Your Majesty, allowing Cai Jing to leave at this crucial moment of battle is risky. If he defects to the enemy, it would be greatly to our disadvantage.”

Zhao Huan waved his hand and replied indifferently, “It matters not. Cai Jing is already in his twilight years. Even if I do not kill him, he will not live long. Besides, justice lies in the hearts of the people—whether he can even make it home alive is uncertain.”

Li Gang, hearing this, understood that Zhao Huan had secretly ordered Cai Jing’s death on the road home, and so nodded, saying no more.

Zhao Huan realized that Li Gang and Zhu Shengfei had misunderstood his intention, so he explained, “Cai Jing held power for seventeen years, earning the people’s bitter resentment. Now, on his long journey home, he is taking only the gold and jewels he has plundered over the years. Whether he can buy food from the common people along the way is doubtful.”

It is said that with money, one can make ghosts turn the millstone, but neither Zhu Shengfei nor Li Gang paid much heed to Zhao Huan’s words, thinking he simply wished to let Cai Jing off lightly. Only when Cai Jing truly starved to death en route did they realize Zhao Huan’s foresight, and their respect for him grew—though that is another story.

At present, the two of them had come to discuss with Zhao Huan the matter he had raised earlier that morning, concerning the future livelihoods of wounded and disabled soldiers.

“Your Majesty, it is not that I wish to shirk responsibility,” Zhu Shengfei said with a troubled expression, “but with the ongoing wars and troubles at home and abroad, the Ministry of Revenue truly has no surplus funds to support these men.”

Zhao Huan listened to Zhu Shengfei’s complaints and understood his difficulties. After all, his own father had squandered the treasury’s wealth over decades of rule, and now, the empire was truly impoverished.