Chapter Ninety-Six: The Censorate Court

Returning to the Eastern Capital Luoyang, the spring holiday had long passed, yet Empress Wu showed no sign of departing for Chang’an, seemingly intent on making Luoyang her permanent residence.

The Censorate’s office in the Eastern Capital was located within the Tai Chu Palace’s morning court, inside Lijing Gate. It stood independently from the Phoenix Pavilion and the Phoenix Terrace, neighboring the Secretariat, positioned to its northeast. The establishment was sizeable, featuring not only official chambers but also left and right Chunfang quarters to accommodate officials temporarily.

The Censorate was divided into three sections: the Office, the Hall, and the Inspection Division. The Office held complex responsibilities, staffed by four Attendant Censors. The Hall chiefly oversaw ceremonial supervision, with six Hall Attendant Censors. The Inspection Division was tasked with monitoring the Six Ministries and local customs, employing ten Inspecting Censors. The head of the Censorate was the Grand Censor, a position not always filled; typically, the chief official was the Deputy Chief Censor, of the fifth rank, holding modest status but considerable authority.

Since the Eastern Capital was merely a secondary capital, in the absence of the Emperor and Empress, only one Attendant Censor with the rank of Deputy Chief Censor managed all supervisory affairs. This official also oversaw prison affairs at Lijing Gate. The current officeholder was Hou Sizhi.

When Quan Ce came to report, the Censorate was gathered in full. The three Deputy Chief Censors—Lai Junchen, Xu Yougong, and Hou Sizhi—were all present. Of these, two were familiar faces; the only newcomer was Xu Yougong, the eldest, whose modest demeanor bore the grace of a senior statesman.

Beyond these three, nearly ten other censors were on duty across the divisions. Quan Ce greeted each with a respectful bow. Being new, their interactions were polite but formal. Only one, fellow Attendant Censor Fu Youyi, was particularly friendly. He frequently praised Quan Ce’s reputation and invited him to a banquet at Forgetfulness Valley, even mentioning the Hanlin Academician Song Zhiwen, showing a keen interest.

“Since everyone has been introduced, I ask those in the Office to remain. The others may disperse,” said Lai Junchen from the center, his tone firm and decisive. Upon his command, the censors bowed and withdrew.

“Please be seated,” Lai Junchen gestured, taking the central kneeling position. Xu Yougong sat to his left, Hou Sizhi to his right. The four Attendant Censors knelt on either side, completing the Censorate’s highest echelon.

Among the Attendant Censors, besides the well-appointed Hou Sizhi, Quan Ce, and Fu Youyi, there was Yan Baili. Yan was over forty, stern and taciturn, short and lean, his gaze suspicious, as if always doubting others’ motives. Yet his façade did not fool his longtime colleagues nor the newcomer Quan Ce, who, via Jade Maid’s intelligence, knew Yan was a man of outward rectitude but inward greed, feigning integrity while craving profit.

“New Attendant Censor Quan, allow me to explain your duties,” Lai Junchen spoke calmly, showing no bias. “The Office Attendant Censors handle petitions, reporting rumors, impeaching officials, receiving imperial edicts, and investigating criminal cases. The responsibilities are weighty but personnel limited, so each of you must handle tasks independently. Currently, Deputy Chief Hou oversees criminal investigations, Attendant Fu manages the reception of edicts, and Attendant Yan handles impeachments. They have long held these posts and should not be disturbed. The remaining task—petitions and reports of rumors—will be assigned to you, Quan. Once you are familiar with the operations, adjustments may be made. How do you find this arrangement?”

“Thank you, Deputy Chief, for your consideration. I accept gladly,” Quan Ce responded promptly. Handling petitions and rumors was a subtle role—no rumors meant no reports. It was a perfect blend of deterrence and convenience, allowing for both vigilance and occasional idleness.

Lai Junchen, seeing Quan Ce’s enthusiasm, pursed his lips, his goatee trembling slightly. He had expected the young man to bristle at such a seemingly trivial assignment, meant to temper his ambition. Instead, Quan Ce embraced it wholeheartedly. Though displeased his show of authority did not intimidate, he waved dismissively. “So be it. We shall convene every five days. Do not miss the appointed time, Quan. You may proceed.”

With that, Lai Junchen swept his sleeve and rose, leading the way out. Yan Baili bowed silently and left without a word.

Xu Yougong, warmhearted, stepped forward to welcome Quan Ce. “Forgive my many words; I speak as an elder. I hope you take no offense.”

“Not at all. I humbly receive your guidance,” Quan Ce replied with proper courtesy. Jade Maid’s reports confirmed Xu’s wealthy background and fair, lenient enforcement. His only flaw was a penchant for lecturing.

True to form, Xu elaborated on the Censorate’s procedures, repeatedly advising Quan Ce to enforce the law with moderation, avoiding harshness that could disrupt the natural order and bring misfortune.

Quan Ce smiled and nodded, though inwardly he sighed. Such orthodox ideals were unlikely to be favored under Empress Wu’s reign.

After Xu’s lengthy departure, only Fu Youyi and Hou Sizhi remained. Fu, intending a private invitation, lingered, but Hou’s inscrutable gaze unsettled Quan Ce, who chose not to press the matter.

“Quan, if you have questions or difficulties, come to me,” Hou said kindly. “I also handle the Censorate’s mundane affairs. Whatever you need, just ask.”

“Thank you, Attendant Fu. I will not hesitate to trouble you,” Quan Ce replied, seeing him off before turning to Hou with a jest. “Deputy Hou, lingering so long—is it to invite me for a drink?”

Hou’s features sharpened. “Tsk, I’ve done you a favor, yet you won’t invite me for a drink but have designs on me? Have you no shame?”

He referred to the matter involving Wu Yanyi.

“All right, all right, my apologies,” Quan Ce hurriedly apologized. “I’ll make it up to you. If you have any close friends, invite them too. Don’t say I’m stingy.”

Hou’s smile faded, replaced by a wistful look. “No need for that. Let’s find a quiet place and share a small drink, just the two of us.”

As they strolled from the Censorate, Quan Ce noticed that while subordinates showed Hou some fear, they lacked respect; to him, they were coldly distant. Curious, he asked why.

Hou smiled wryly. “Though I bear the Censorate title, I actually oversee the prison at Lijing Gate, reporting directly to the Empress Dowager. I have little to do with the Censorate itself, which Lai Junchen manages personally. Though originating from the same source, we often clash. Were it not for your report today, I wouldn’t have bothered enduring Lai Junchen’s chatter.”

Quan Ce glanced at him softly. “Brother Hou, as the saying goes, rigidity breaks easily.”

“Wise brother, I know that well,” Hou sighed. “These days, it feels especially true.”

Seeing his troubled expression and sensing this was no place for talk, Quan Ce said no more. They went to a quiet vegetarian restaurant, ordering meat dishes and tea but no wine.

Hou was displeased. “Brother, how can a feast have meat but no wine?”

“Brother Hou, drowning sorrow in wine only deepens it. We can drink freely another day. Today, let’s abstain.”

Hou clicked his tongue. “Very well. If I had half your talent, I wouldn’t be so unlucky. You should know, I come from a lowly background, a mere commoner. Yet my elderly mother’s ambitions soar to the heavens. She insists I marry into a noble family. The world values noble daughters, but such a thing is rare and difficult. Time slips by, and her demands only grow more severe...”

Quan Ce listened quietly, offering only a wry smile. Every family had its burdens. Approaching thirty and still unattached, Hou was trapped by his mother’s threats: if he failed to wed a noblewoman by his thirtieth birthday, she vowed to die by his hand.

Moved with sympathy but unsure how to console, Quan Ce ate heartily, hoping to lift Hou’s spirits.

“Actually, I haven’t been idle,” Hou’s cheeks flushed. “Last year, while on official duty in Pingji County, Zhao Prefecture, I met the Zhao family’s daughter. We confessed mutual feelings, but her father, a powerful noble, rejected me outright for my lack of education and literary skills. Thus...”

So that was the matter. Quan Ce exhaled, though his brow furrowed. Handling an overbearing father-in-law was a challenge as old as time.