FYM - 140

—What to do?

The Song family of Jinling was her maternal clan and the biggest obstacle behind the land inspections. Everyone was watching her; if she didn’t make a decision, the officials wouldn’t know how to execute her will. And if she showed any leniency, the new policies would become worthless and be abandoned forever.

“Destroying kin for the greater good…”

…It seemed to be the only path left for her.

She no longer harbored resentment toward the Song family. Ever since she had severed ties with her father eight years ago, they had been as strangers, with no further connection. Yet they likely still hoped to bind her through so-called blood ties. If she acted impartially, it would be labeled “ungrateful” or “settling personal scores.” She could already foresee the backlash: the Song clan’s endless criticism and resistance to her decisions, and her father…

She closed her eyes briefly, feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and helplessness. When she opened them again, her gaze met his. She knew all too well that the man before her had always walked a harder and lonelier path than her, yet he had silently endured and persevered, never shifting even a fraction of his responsibilities onto others.

“One step at a time…”

She smiled faintly, unwilling to say more.

“Xu Qing has already achieved much. He should return to Jinling to rest for a while.”

He raised an eyebrow, realizing she didn’t want to discuss the matter further. A moment later, she suddenly hugged him tightly, her soft, plaintive voice near his ear. “Why must we talk about politics now? We can discuss these things every day normally, but now we only have a short while to speak privately, and you’re still talking about this…”

Her complaint was half-real, half-feigned, but it immediately stirred his guilt again—their moments together were precious and scarce, not to be wasted in the slightest.

“Can you trust the people around you?”

He suddenly asked.

She was taken aback, not expecting him to bring this up. Leaning against his shoulder, she thought for a moment before replying, “You mean Chaohua and Xixiu? They’ve been with me for a long time, personally assigned to the Central Palace by the late emperor. They handle matters reliably, but as for whether they’re trustworthy…”

They were efficient in relaying messages and handling affairs, but unlike Zui’er, who had been by her side since childhood, there was still a layer of distance between them. For instance, she dared not let them know anything about her relationship with him…

He acknowledged her response with a hum, understanding fully. After pondering for a moment, he lowered his voice and asked, “If I arrange for some people to enter the palace to serve by your side… would you dislike it?”

She blinked, not immediately grasping his meaning. He cleared his throat awkwardly, his expression tinged with subtle discomfort. After a pause, he continued, “Don’t you always complain that I can’t stay by your side? There are too many prying eyes here and in Fuqing Hall—I can’t come and go freely. But if we change the location, perhaps…”

—Change the location?

She finally understood—he was planning for their future meetings. The people around her couldn’t be easily replaced without drawing attention, but arranging for others would be simpler. He had capable individuals at his disposal, which would make things more convenient for her.

“That would be wonderful—”

She agreed instantly, her beautiful eyes lighting up, regaining some of the youthful vibrancy she once had. Like a cheerful oriole hopping on his fingers, every flutter of her wings brought him genuine joy.

“How could I dislike it? I’m only afraid they’ll come too late. When will you send them in? Tomorrow? The day after?”

She sounded impatient, her trust in him pure and absolute, almost to the point of being helpless. He sighed, chuckling softly as he stroked her cheek. “In a few days. We’ll need to find the right opportunity.”

She nodded, knowing that this matter could not be rushed. But everything about him had a way of tugging at her heartstrings. The vast and once-terrifying depths of the palace now seemed warm and enchanting with him by her side. There were so many palaces within Taicheng, each as splendid as a celestial realm, and any one of them could become their secret haven of intimacy. She longed to spend every moment with him, even if it meant never seeing the light of day again—it would be no sacrifice at all.

“I’ll wait for you…”

She couldn’t resist kissing him again, taking advantage of being cradled in his lap to enjoy a rare moment of intimacy from above.

“But… don’t make me wait too long…”

Her last words were so endearing they softened his heart completely. The ironclad rules and rigid discipline that had bound him for the past eight years seemed to melt away like spring water. Perhaps neither of them had ever sought an outcome; just a fleeting fulfillment was enough to satisfy their hearts.

“Shall we break something?”

He suddenly asked.

Her dazed body went limp, unsure what he meant. He chuckled, gently pinching her chin. “Aren’t we supposed to be estranged? Breaking something will make it seem more real.”

She finally understood and couldn’t help but burst into laughter. After giving him a playful glare, she scanned the imperial desk, picked up a celadon brush washer, and turned back to whisper mischievously in his ear, “I didn’t know you could be so deceitful…”

With that, she raised her hand and dropped the brush washer, its shattering sound echoing crisply through the hall. They both heard the low gasps of the palace attendants outside, seemingly startled by the noise. She nestled into his arms, giggling like a mischievous child who had just gotten away with something. He affectionately flicked her nose and gently wiped away the smudged rouge from her lips where he had kissed her.

She half-closed her eyes, savoring his touch, but she knew the quarter-hour limit had arrived—he was bidding her farewell. He seemed skilled at parting, offering her tender comfort even in moments of regret.

“Don’t shoulder everything alone when it comes to your maternal clan…”

Even his parting words were beautiful.

“Always remember… I am always by your side.”

________________________________________

Two days later, Xu Zongyao returned to court. The grandeur of a fifth-rank official from the Ministry of Revenue wasn’t much to speak of—a single green donkey and two sleeves full of wind accompanied his solitary return.

Lately, the attention of both the court and the common people had been focused on Lord Fang’s pacification of the southern territories. In truth, without this distraction, Xu Zongyao’s battle of wits with the powerful clans of Jiangnan would have been the most fascinating spectacle. This young scholar-official, brimming with bookish zeal and ignorant of worldly affairs, had indeed backed himself into a corner. When he left Jinling, he was still the glorious protégé of the emperor, but after only half a year, his ancestral home had been burned down, and he had lost the use of one leg—a story that evoked sighs of pity.

On the day of his return, the palace had sent someone to welcome him, saying that the Empress Dowager, mindful of his hardships over the past months, had specially granted him a new residence south of Qingxi to settle his mother and recuperate. Despite his injured leg, he knelt to thank her graciously, but after moving his mother in, he didn’t linger a moment longer. Instead, he insisted on entering the palace to request an audience with the Empress Dowager.

“Master Xu, can’t you take some advice…”

The palace envoy sighed in exasperation, lamenting how stubborn this young scholar was.

“The Empress Dowager has too much on her plate right now—it’s not yet your turn. Entering the palace now would only harm you and put Her Majesty in a difficult position…”

This advice was generous, but Xu Zongyao, far from showing gratitude or slipping a bribe into the noble’s hands, instead bowed deeply in public and declared loudly, “I have urgent matters to report to Her Majesty. Please inform her of my request.”

His unyielding nature infuriated the envoy, who stormed off in frustration. After relaying the message, word came from Fuqing Hall that the Empress Dowager was too busy with state affairs to see him that day. Yet Xu Zongyao simply knelt before the palace gates without hesitation, persisting until sunset, when he finally secured permission for an audience.

He was greeted by Xi Xiu, one of the Empress Dowager’s attendants, who brought along a sedan chair, explaining that the Empress Dowager had compassionately provided it due to his injury. Xu Zongyao declined the gesture, insisting on walking into the inner palace despite his limp, drawing curious glances and whispers from the palace staff.

By the time he reached Fuqing Hall, sweat dripped from Xu Zongyao’s brow, and the leg injured in the cliff fall trembled uncontrollably. After adjusting his attire outside the doors, he entered the hall with Xi Xiu. The Empress Dowager was dining in the outer chamber, the room filled with the faint aroma of sandalwood.

“Your servant Xu Zongyao pays respects to Her Majesty.”

He kept his head bowed and performed a deep kneeling bow, not daring to look at the most exalted woman under heaven. She responded indifferently with a brief “Rise,” then added, “Master Xu has traveled far to return to Jinling—you must be weary. You’ve likely not yet dined. Join me for supper today.”

“Bring a seat for him.”

The palace attendants moved to obey, but Xu Zongyao remained kneeling, his face pale and drenched in sweat from the pain in his leg. Still, he stubbornly bowed deeper, refusing to rise.

“Your servant’s efforts in the land inspections bore no fruit. Returning to Taicheng, I have no face to accept the grace of heaven…”

His voice was clear and resolute, as steady as it had been six months ago in Qianding Palace.

“And I have a question for Her Majesty: if the results do not align with expectations, should one not refrain from consuming the stipend of the imperial household?”

The first part of his statement could be considered ordinary, but the latter was audacious—how dare a mere subject question the sovereign? The final phrase, “should not consume the stipend of the imperial household,” sounded almost like a threat, as if the Empress Dowager were being tested and would face consequences if her answer displeased him.

Everyone present was shocked. Only Song Shuyan smiled faintly, setting down her jade chopsticks gracefully. Her voice remained calm as she said, “You may speak freely.”

Xu Zongyao bowed again and continued, “The land inspections are of great importance. Every seven days, I submitted reports on the latest conditions in each province for Your Majesty’s review. You must be aware of the changing situation and the current obstacles. Now that you have summoned me back to court, is it because you deem me incompetent and unworthy of shouldering the nation’s burdens, or is it merely because you fear losing the support of your maternal relatives and facing betrayal?”

His words stunned everyone, especially the mention of “maternal relatives,” which was outright treasonous. His words linked the Song family’s land acquisitions with the Empress Dowager’s regency, essentially accusing her to her face. The atmosphere in Fuqing Hall grew deathly silent as all present were terrified by this fifth-rank official’s outrageous speech. After a long pause, the Empress Dowager finally spoke, her tone noticeably colder. “Xu Zongyao, you are out of line.”

The young scholar showed no fear, maintaining his composure even after her rebuke. A moment later, he rose, looked directly into the Empress Dowager’s eyes, and continued calmly, “When I entered the palace to take the examinations, I made a solemn vow in front of all the ministers in the grand hall. I promised that if I were to serve as an official, I would dedicate myself wholly to the public good, sparing no effort, and would remain loyal to the throne, avoiding factionalism. In the countryside, I vowed to treat the people with compassion and seek counsel from the common folk, enduring hardship without regret—even unto death.”

“As long as I draw breath, I will not shy away from danger or sacrifice for the sake of the nation. If Your Majesty still has the resolve to uphold justice for the people, I will gladly brave fire and water. But if you no longer possess the courage to act impartially, please inform me early so that I may retreat to the mountains and cleanse myself of this futile existence, rather than wasting my days in vain.”