Chapter 1: Entering the Capital to Become Emperor

　　In April, the capital was warmed by the spring breeze. The yellow sands from beyond the frontier had receded, willow catkins and peach blossoms filled the air with fragrance.

　　In the bright spring sunlight, a mighty procession was heading north from the south, making straight for the capital.

　　Horses galloped, people moved like a dragon, the momentum was overwhelming.

　　Wherever they passed, the commoners by the roadside were so frightened they knelt on the ground, not daring to lift their heads for a long time!

　　In the middle of the procession, a special carriage stood out. It was over twelve feet two inches tall, nearly nine feet wide—compared to this carriage, all the others looked utterly inferior.

　　Officials familiar with court protocol knew well: this was the second most prestigious carriage in the realm, second only to the emperor's grand chariot, reserved for the crown prince.

　　As expected, inside the carriage, a young man sat with his head lowered, wearing a winged crown and a crimson robe, with golden coiled dragons embroidered on both shoulders.

　　He was thin and frail. The royal attire, meant to symbolize majesty and nobility, only made him look weaker and more helpless, even a bit comical—one couldn't help but wonder, could he really bear this weight?

　　Opposite the noble youth, another boy, slightly younger, lounged at an angle. This little fellow's face was pale, his expression weary and listless, as if he hadn't slept well in ages. His eyes were rimmed red, and he yawned dispiritedly.

　　As the road widened and the procession drew closer to the capital, an elderly high official rode up alongside the carriage.

　　Through the curtain, he called out in a loud voice, "Your Highness, we are about to enter the capital. Allow this old minister to mention a few matters—please remember them well."

　　There was no sound from inside the carriage, which seemed to be tacit consent.

　　The old man's voice rang out, "Please enter the city with the rites of the crown prince. The Ministry of Rites will select an auspicious day to hold the enthronement ceremony."

　　"The Grand Secretariat has drafted three possible reign titles. Of these, 'Shao Zhi' is the most suitable. If Your Highness agrees, it can be written into the enthronement edict, and the new era will officially begin next year."

　　"The third point: after Your Highness ascends the throne, you must set things right at the source, promote the good and eliminate the bad. Superfluous officials from the previous reign must be dismissed, border troops sent back to their posts. Loyal and innocent officials who suffered injustice must be rehabilitated and restored to their positions."

　　When the old man finished, there was a long silence inside the carriage.

　　After a while, a young voice finally spoke, faintly: "Secretary Mason is a man of top scholar's talent, loyal and devoted. Since you have arranged everything, just follow your plan—do you even need to ask me?"

　　He was angry.

　　The old man was unhurried, clearly prepared, and replied, "Your Highness, this old minister Stephen Mason has served in the Ministry of Rites for many years. Everything is done according to ancestral rules, never daring to act recklessly. If Your Highness is tired, you may rest for a while outside the city. Once I have explained everything clearly, we can enter the capital—one day more or less makes no difference."

　　Anyone could tell the old man had no intention of changing anything. His explanation was just to make the young man obey. His tone was no different from that of many parents: lofty and overbearing!

　　The youth's face gradually turned ashen, his lips trembled, and his whole body shook...

　　Suddenly, the other boy in the carriage opened his eyes wide, all fatigue gone!

　　Stephen Mason!

　　Welcoming the new emperor's enthronement!

　　With these two key points connected, anyone familiar with history would have reached a conclusion. This group was heading from Anlu to escort Charles Brooks to the capital, to inherit the throne left by his cousin William Brooks.

　　That's right, the famous Zhengde Emperor.

　　After leaving all the civil officials with sixteen years of nightmares, he departed, not taking a single cloud with him, not leaving behind a son... The throne thus fell to his not-yet-fifteen-year-old cousin, the heir of Prince Xing, Charles Brooks.

　　People have picked up all sorts of things, but to pick up the emperor's throne—such luck is rare in five thousand years of history. Aside from those unfortunates forced to wear the imperial robe in times of chaos, Charles Brooks was truly one of a kind.

　　To be able to follow this lucky fellow and become his trusted attendant—

　　As a transmigrator, Henry Foster was quite satisfied.

　　Other transmigrators ended up in barbarian villages, unable to find even a schoolteacher; some landed in official families, but nearly lost everything under the capital's scrutiny. But he, right from the start, clung to the new emperor's thigh, instantly becoming the most trusted of confidants—he couldn't imagine how many years of struggle that saved!

　　He was almost set for a life of effortless success, but as time went on, he felt more and more uneasy.

　　These ministers didn't act like they were welcoming the most noble person in the world to inherit the most dazzling profession. Instead, it was more like inviting a deity's statue home to be worshipped.

　　Though both were golden and radiant, even a fool could tell the difference.