PM - 13

What kind of talk is this! If he had entertained even the slightest thought of entering the palace to be by her side, those thoughts were completely dashed upon hearing the word “concubine.”

After being forced to spend a night in Zhangde Hall a few days ago, did she know what the outside world was saying? The Chancellor’s reputation was already tarnished. Most people assumed that he had coerced the young emperor into submission, plotting how to become the emperor’s father-in-law while lusting after his body. These rumors were so convincing, it was as if they had really happened. But heaven knew the truth about that night. If she hadn’t ordered all entrances to the Eastern Palace sealed and if he hadn’t been too proud to climb over the walls, how could they have spent the night together by mere coincidence!

Did she know how terrifying it was for him to wake up and find her nestled in his arms? No matter how weak she might seem, an emperor was still an emperor. Moreover, she had recently mentioned wanting to bear his child. The first thing he did after gathering his wits was to check if he was still intact. He couldn’t shake off some strange premonitions—why did he feel that once he entered the palace, he would become the so-called “forbidden delicacy”? Of course, this thought was absurd; even with all her power, a young girl like her couldn’t possibly do anything to him… Yet, he felt uneasy. Seeing her face made him sense danger, even her worried expressions seemed to conceal ulterior motives.

He tried to retract his hand but was abruptly pulled back by her. “What? Does my Lord Chancellor not care for me at all?”

Cold sweat broke out on the usually composed Chancellor’s forehead. “This lowly one reveres you as I would revere heaven and earth. If we set aside matters of state and discuss personal feelings...”

The young emperor across from him slapped the table lightly and exclaimed, “Good! ‘Personal feelings’—that’s well put!”

The Chancellor paused, taken aback. “Please allow me to finish, Your Majesty. Though I am not blood-related to the late emperor, we grew up together studying and training in martial arts, forming a unique bond. Whatever the late emperor entrusted me with, regardless of who sits on the throne, I will carry out my duties faithfully. I remember when Your Majesty ascended the throne at the age of five. For a long time—more than two years—you stood among the princes, and I could barely recognize your face. So…”

It was maddening how the Chancellor kept harping on her appearance! How much importance did this Chancellor place on looks?

Fu Wei wanted to flare up but restrained herself. Now was the time for strategy, leveraging his small reserve of sympathy to create opportunities for herself.

She reluctantly withdrew her hand, sat upright, bowed her head, and said, “I know I don’t meet your standards, Lord Chancellor. But even the ugliest person has the right to fear death. With Mars guarding the heart, ominous signs foretell the king’s downfall. Do you not wish to discuss with me the succession of the next emperor? I still think you should move into the inner palace. That way, if anything goes wrong in the Eastern Palace, you can quickly step in to stabilize the situation. My death is imminent, and if you cannot fulfill even this last request before I die, it seems heartless indeed.”

The Chancellor’s heart involuntarily shuddered. She spoke truly; even the ugliest person has the instinct to survive. Besides, she wasn’t ugly at all—compared to her younger self, she had grown into a breathtaking beauty.

But moving into the palace remained impractical. After a brief pause, he replied, “The claim of Mars guarding the heart comes solely from the Grand Tutor and the Astronomer Royal. Without seeing it myself, I cannot believe it. Please calm yourself, Your Majesty. Tonight, I will join officials from the Astronomical Bureau to observe the celestial phenomena. If blessed by our ancestors, Mars will shift three degrees, and all will be well. You may rest assured then.”

Fu Wei nodded after listening. “Your prudence is appreciated, my Lord Chancellor. I will follow your advice. However, observing celestial signs is the Astronomical Bureau’s duty—you need not go personally. Mars stationed over the Heart constellation concerns my life and death. I cannot sit idly in Zhangde Hall waiting for news. Tonight, I will ascend to the Vermilion Bird Tower. I invite you to accompany me, so we can confirm the situation ourselves and find peace of mind.”

This request was reasonable, leaving the Chancellor no grounds for refusal. He rose and bowed. “I accept your command, Your Majesty. I will accompany you to the Vermilion Bird Tower tonight. In the meantime, please remain at ease. As I’ve told you before, even what we see with our own eyes isn’t always true, let alone secondhand accounts.”

Fu Wei appeared genuinely reassured. “Thank you, Lord Chancellor. You are my wise mentor. Your words have dispelled the troubles weighing on my heart.”

At all times and places, she meticulously calculated every move—a skill she’d honed over ten years. Creating opportunities to be near him might, over time, lead him to develop feelings for her. She understood his type well: cold and unfeeling when indifferent, but utterly devoted once enamored. Compared to battling wits with him, making him submit would be far more efficient in the long run.

But the process was arduous. What was going on with that inexplicable Lian Zheng? Rumor had it they often swapped clothes. Given the Chancellor’s personality, such casualness wouldn’t happen unless they were close.

It was awkward to bring up, but after carefully choosing her words, she asked, “Was that Lian Zheng, Marquis of Brocade, in your bed earlier? I recall receiving his report of returning to the capital during the Dragon Boat Festival. I thought he had already returned to Tianshui, so why is he still here?”

Just thinking about Lian Zheng gave the Chancellor a headache. He couldn’t directly admit that Lian didn’t want to leave the capital, so he said, “He’s here to request reinforcement of Tianshui’s defenses and to address troop expansions, adjustments to military salaries, and supplies. Sending a lesser official might result in mishandling, so he came in person.”

Fu Wei had her own suspicions. This wasn’t about fearing incompetence—it was clearly an excuse to visit the Chancellor. Officials stationed outside the capital required imperial orders to stay in the capital for extended periods. Without the Chancellor’s protection, Lian Zheng wouldn’t dare overstay.

She sighed softly. “Tianshui is far from the capital. He must have endured much hardship there. Though he’s technically my elder, I shouldn’t make demands of him. However, Tianshui borders the Hexi Corridor, a strategic battleground since ancient times. Without a trustworthy person to guard it, trouble may arise in the west. Many eyes in court are watching the royal family. Lord Chancellor, you understand better than I do. If he neglects my appointment now, what do you think...?”

The Chancellor seized the opportunity. “Your Majesty is wise. I will immediately inform him and order him to depart for Tianshui tomorrow morning.”

Fu Wei had expected the Chancellor to defend Lian Zheng, so she was pleasantly surprised by his swift agreement. She stole a glance at him, secretly delighted, though her face remained an impenetrable mask of ice. “That’s best. Please convey my admonishment to him as well. The safety of millions rests on his shoulders. I hope he doesn’t betray my trust and guards the territory well.” Rising, she paced the room and sighed deeply. “Mars is the star of war. Its presence in the southeast portends conflict. As a member of the royal family, he should remain steadfast in his jurisdiction to prevent exploitation. I… am a woman, naturally fearful of war. At this time, if I cannot rely on my closest kin, whom can I depend on?”

Her words carried a kernel of selfishness cleverly cloaked in noble-sounding reasoning. Even to her own ears, they sounded convincing. The Chancellor naturally accepted the mission. She observed his expression—calm and unwavering, without a trace of hesitation. Relieved, she realized there was still hope. At least, he harbored no attachment to Lian Zheng, which suited her intentions perfectly.

Avoiding any mention of the earlier awkward moment, Fu Wei gently asked, “Have you reconsidered moving into the inner palace to live with me?”

The Chancellor replied firmly, “It’s inconvenient. It’s not only interactions between men and women that require discretion—even between men. My staying out of the palace is to protect Your Majesty’s reputation. Please understand my intentions.”

Reputation mattered little to her. He was more concerned for himself—fearing he’d walk into a trap with no way out.

Fu Wei tucked her wide sleeves and smiled. “If that’s the case, I won’t insist. We can discuss it later.” Pausing, she turned back and asked, “That day I summoned Lingjun to the palace. Did he mention anything to you after returning?”

The Chancellor looked up. The young emperor before the landscape painting possessed a delicate, innocent beauty. Even while scheming against him, she wore a faint smile.

He recalled that Lingjun had indeed spoken to him that day. All she sought was a nominal marriage. Her target was clear—it was him. How amusing that someone so young had such audacious ambitions. No one in the court dared challenge him, yet she had set her sights on him. This wasn’t love—it was a voracious, obsessive desire to consume him.

He shook his head. “He said nothing except that Your Majesty had made up her mind and would announce the edict publicly.”

“What a pity,” she sighed, shrugging helplessly. “No matter how well-prepared, plans can’t keep up with changes. Let’s wait a few more days. Once this crisis passes, we can’t delay lifelong matters any longer.” She glanced at the sky. “I should return. Coming and going in haste—it’s unavoidable.”

With a light turn of her head, her brows conveyed longing. The Chancellor, momentarily stunned, finally bowed deeply. “I respectfully bid farewell, Your Majesty.”

Yet she refused to take a step. “Won’t you see me off? Those retainers are still waiting for me outside. If you don’t appear, they might think I’ve poisoned you, and chaos will ensue. That would fulfill the omen of Mars guarding the heart.”

Helpless, the Chancellor gestured outward. “Your Majesty, please proceed.”

Fu Wei lifted her robe and stepped out, pausing briefly under the eaves. Turning back to him, she remarked, “I don’t know why, but standing shoulder to shoulder with you brings such peace to my heart.”

Shouldn’t she be consumed by turbulent emotions, desperate to drown him? Yet the young emperor’s ability to say one thing while doing another was impeccable. If traces of innocence remained in her youth, years of experience had forged her tender frame into a weapon of steel.

He understood fully—the pretense of polite formalities between ruler and subject was never dispensable. Smiling, he said, “As do I.”

The Chancellor’s smile was truly captivating. Though it concealed daggers, it reminded Fu Wei of King You of Zhou’s madness in igniting beacon fires to fool his vassals. What a pity she wasn’t born male—if their genders were reversed, he wouldn’t stand a chance of escaping her grasp! As she walked, she struggled to avoid looking at him, catching glimpses of the dragon patterns on his shoulders. His proximity, as she had said earlier, brought unexpected tranquility. Sometimes fear stemmed from distance—like sitting alone in the deep palace as a child, unsure of his next move, always trembling with apprehension. Now, standing before him, seeing his expressions and hearing his words, she felt oddly at ease.

The two walked slowly out of the courtyard. True enough, the retainers were still gathered. Seeing the Chancellor unharmed, they all bowed deeply. Fu Wei said nothing, merely twitched the corner of her lips and strode confidently onto the pathway.

He escorted her to the gate. Standing under the blazing sun, she squinted. “I came alone, riding a horse, and didn’t expect it to be so hot on the way back.”

The Chancellor spoke kindly. “Your Majesty shouldn’t venture out alone. The roads are perilous without an escort. What if something went wrong?” He called to the chief secretary. “Bring my carriage. I’ll escort Your Majesty back to the inner palace.”

A rare blush colored her cheeks. “I was eager to see you and didn’t think of anything else. I’ll take your carriage back—you needn’t accompany me. Just come early tonight.”

After speaking, she turned and descended the steps. The Chancellor pondered her words, detecting an ambiguous undertone. No one knew what she was thinking. She wasn’t a fragile girl—her movements were decisive. By the time he considered helping her into the carriage, she was already seated comfortably.

“Lord Chancellor,” she called softly, raising half the bamboo curtain and whispering, 7:45 PM, atop the Vermilion Bird Tower, I’ll be waiting for you.”

The Chancellor acknowledged her words with a wave of his hand. Two rows of red-clad cavalry soon flanked the carriage. Bending deeply, he bid her farewell. Fu Wei lowered the curtain, her eyes brimming with laughter.