Chapter 920 - 97: Gu Hui Passes Away

Even Gu Hui, who single-handedly propelled this "Prosperous Era of Qi Huan" and was revered or feared by countless people as "Grand Tutor Gu," could not resist the gray that crept upon his temples, and that always upright spine, after handling mountain-high documents deep into the night, would reveal a barely perceptible curve of fatigue.

The chisel of time treats both emperors and commoners alike.

And it will eventually take everyone with it.

In the thirteenth year of the Qi Huan era, with the passing of Yue Fei, the story of a generation finally reached its end.

For Gu Hui,

Yue Fei could be considered his only confidant.

His life’s philosophy was too far-reaching, incompatible with the thinking of people in this world, even within his own family of the Gu Clan.

Though the thoughts across Kyushu were continuously transforming.

For Gu Hui, this did not signify success.

Simply put, it was not enough.

Gu Hui’s true thoughts would even shock Gu Yi.

He truly wanted to abolish the Emperor.

He wanted the Emperor to become a concept, a symbol, while real power would be distributed among various departments.

Of course, at least for now, all of this was impossible to achieve.

His life was lonely.

From start to finish, it seemed only Yue Fei could keep pace with his thoughts, accompany him through this thorny path.

On the day of Yue Fei’s reburial, Gu Hui personally went outside the city and stood silently before Yue Fei’s grave for a full hour, not uttering a word.

The court and the public knew of the deep friendship between Grand Tutor Gu and Yue Fei, but no one could fully comprehend the vast, almost suffocating emptiness and chill that spread within after the passing of a confidant.

The deeper the reform went, the more invisible and densely packed the resistance became; comrades who once stood by his side gradually fell away, and those who could understand his nearly heretical ideals were exceedingly rare.

The Emperor on the throne, Zhao Bozong, who had passed the threshold of his thirties, under Gu Hui’s careful guidance and institutional constraints in recent years, had become more composed and proficient, with an increasingly profound insight into governance.

He respected Gu Hui, relied on this system, and even in some ways, showed enthusiasm and talent beyond Gu Hui’s expectations.

However, Gu Hui was clearer than anyone else that this good-natured, advice-tolerant monarch, deep down, shared the same understanding and attachment to imperial power as most people in this world.

He could accept the "power-sharing cabinet" and "rule-based governance," for it brought national strength and stable order, but he would never agree to, much less promote, that ultimate step — the complete retreat of the "Son of Heaven" to a ceremonial symbol, fully ceding supreme authority to systems and laws.

This chasm, Gu Hui understood well, and he felt powerless to bridge it.

The stage he had built throughout his life ultimately required a "protagonist" to take the stage, and the mind of this "protagonist" was no longer something he could completely control.

Yingtian Prefecture, inner cabinet.

The moonlight was washing.

The room was bright with candlelight, illuminating the documents and maps piled like mountains. Gu Hui sat alone behind the large desk, his posture still upright, yet under his dark robe, his shoulders and back seemed slightly gaunt and bony.

His fingers slowly traced over a report on newly opened sugarcane fields in Lingnan and the export of icing sugar, his brows furrowing slightly.

His mind was no longer as agile as it once was.

Only after a moment did he finalize everything in his mind and silently completed his approval.

And after a long time, he was reminded by an attendant to rise and return home, although his figure swayed almost imperceptibly when he stood up, he quickly steadied himself.

Gu Mansion, study room.

In stark contrast to the solemn grandeur of the inner cabinet, Gu Hui’s study was simple to the point of being austere.

At this moment, nearly all the core young members of the Gu Clan were present, each standing with hands lowered, the atmosphere solemn.

Among them were capable talents who had honed themselves for years at the "Cao Sea General Control Department," young Imperial Censors who had made their mark within the inspection system, and scholars devoted to the Gu Academy, researching philosophical principles and education.

These people were the backbone of the new generation of the Gu Clan, though each had talents slightly lacking, within them flowed the bloodline of the family legacy.

Gu Hui did not sit at the main seat, instead leaning on an old rattan chair by the window, holding a yellowed book scroll in his hand.

"What we are discussing today is not state affairs, but family matters," his voice was not loud, with an authority that comes from long-held power and a hint of lingering fatigue, "You all hold important positions, either handling practical affairs, overseeing laws and regulations, or imparting knowledge."

"You must understand, the current position of the Gu Clan is not due to noble blood, but relies on two points."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, "The first point is the perseverance of ancestors through harsh conditions, focusing on practical matters, upholding trust, and building reputation and prestige both at home and abroad."

"This is the power of our clan, intangible yet heavier than a thousand pounds."

"The second," his tone turned somber, "is from my own era, using national power as a chessboard, forcibly pushing new policies, tightly binding the strength of the Gu Clan with the system of the Imperial Dynasty."

"Cao Sea, mining exploration, inspections, communication, and even elements of military supply, everywhere bears the imprint of our clan’s efforts."

"You should understand the benefits and drawbacks of this."

A cautious voice from a family member employed at the General Control Department spoke, "Granduncle, the new policies have indeed yielded results, with maritime trade and transport thriving, and the nation’s resources gradually increasing."

"However... criticisms within the court have never ceased, especially after Lord Yue’s passing, there have been undercurrents."

"Nephew fears..."

"Fear of future reckoning?" Gu Hui completed the sentence for him, his tone calm and steady, "This concern is valid."

"I have linked the reputation of the Imperial Censorate’s authority and the prestige of the Gu Clan, and requested the Emperor to issue a decree allowing civilians to voice their grievances directly, as a precautionary measure, to leave an outlet for ventilation and a talisman for protection."

"However, this is not a foolproof strategy."

He put down the book and sat upright, though showing signs of age, he exuded an air of unyielding authority: "But you all must remember, the future survival of the Gu Clan does not hinge on power struggles within the Central Hub for mere days, but rather on defensive strategies and adherence to law."

"Defense does not mean relying on power to oppress others, but rather to work diligently in your respective areas, achieving tangible accomplishments, and maintaining the Gu Clan’s reputation for being pragmatic, efficient, and trustworthy."

"Our Gu Clan will remain standing strong."

"Beyond that, adherence to law is even more crucial." His gaze suddenly became sharp, "Our initial intention to promote legislation and institution-building was to replace personal rule with regulations."

"As you’re deeply involved, you must lead by example and strictly adhere to protocols."

"Do not, due to your Gu Clan background, become arrogant and attempt to place family power above the law."

"The Imperial Censorate’s ’direct grievance’ authority is both a talisman and a sword hanging over your heads."

"......"

He thus methodically explained everything to the younger members of the family.

This had already become part of Gu Hui’s daily routine.

He, like the ancestors of the Gu Clan for generations, seized every opportunity to educate and uplift the family’s descendants.

And as the days passed by;

Time finally revealed its most merciless side.

In the winter of the sixteenth year of Kaihuan, a sudden cold struck down this seemingly tireless old man.

The best Imperial Physicians of the Imperial Medical Bureau took turns diagnosing him, and medicinal decoctions flowed continuously into the Gu Mansion, but Gu Hui’s body had long been exhausted from decades of intense labor.

On his sickbed, he was delirious with a high fever, occasionally waking, his gaze unexpectedly clear and frightening, briefly inquiring about important state affairs, or advising the core young members attending by his bedside on specific matters, before slipping back into a weary sleep.

The news quietly spread, casting an invisible cloud over Yingtian Prefecture.

In the streets, the clamor of teahouses and taverns seemed to dim a little, and the faces of travelers at the docks bore an imperceptible hint of worry.

And this situation quickly spread across the entire world.

In an instant, the whole world seemed to fall into silence.

Gu Hui’s influence over the entire world was immense.

Yet it could not stop the inevitable conclusion.

Just on the evening of the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month, on the eve of the Lunar New Year.

A piece of news that could be described as earth-shattering shattered the festive atmosphere near the year’s end.

Gu Hui passed away at the Champion Marquis Mansion.

He left no shocking last words, nor did he discuss the ultimate ideal about the ’Emperor’ again.

He merely sighed lightly, as if talking to himself: "The rules... have been established, that’s good."

"The rest... depends on future generations."

The news, like a biting north wind, swiftly swept through the court and commonwealth.

The Emperor suspended court for seven days, personally attended the sacrificial ceremony, conferred him the highest posthumous honors, ordered national mourning, and the cabinet, in accordance with his pre-agreed plans with the Emperor, swiftly initiated emergency procedures to ensure the normal operation of key departments such as Cao Sea, frontier defense, and taxation.

And within just a few days, Gu Hui’s posthumous title was determined.

In fact, given Gu Hui’s achievements.

There were not many choices for his posthumous title.

And the final result, there was only one that could match his stature.

Posthumous Title—

Wenzhong!.....

....

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