PM - 14

The young emperor had come to take the Chancellor’s life—or so all the retainers believed. Thus, as soon as she left, the Chancellor found himself surrounded.

Several of his trusted advisors looked deeply troubled. “My Lord, what was the purpose of His Majesty’s visit? Bringing wine and leading a cow—it’s clearly a declaration to the world that the power over life and death rests in their hands. Even someone as heroic as you is not spared their disdain.”

“It seems my Lord must be cautious,” another added. “The young emperor has grown up, and from now on, they may increasingly target you. In the court, there are those like Zhang Zhongqing and Ding Baiyao who constantly oppose you. Though small fry are not worth worrying about, when enough voices gather, the rumors circulating in the marketplace can be extremely detrimental to your reputation.”

Rumors? He turned to the empty sky and tugged at the corner of his lips. “They say I have an affair with the young emperor? That’s the most laughable thing I’ve heard in years.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than someone chimed in, “Yeah, and apparently the Chancellor also has some entanglement with me. Look at us—whose physique would be more suitable on top?”

Everyone froze for a moment, then chuckled awkwardly. The Chancellor’s close friend could spout nonsense all day, but no one dared to call him out on it.

The Chancellor frowned at him. “Go pack your bags. His Majesty has ordered you to return to Tianshui to reinforce the defenses tomorrow.”

He strode ahead without looking back, while Lian Zheng panicked upon hearing this and hurried after him. “Why the sudden order? I haven’t even stayed in the capital long enough!”

Sudden order? Since when did a military commander stationed outside the capital decide on their own to return to the imperial city and stay for an entire month? The Chancellor snorted. “Allowing you to leave tomorrow is already lenient. If it were up to me, I’d throw you out of the city immediately!”

Lian Zheng clicked his tongue repeatedly. “Just the other day, you insisted you didn’t look at her that way, and now you’re already siding with her? She tells me to leave, and I just go? Don’t you feel even a little reluctant to see me go?”

Lately, whenever the Chancellor heard such cloying words, he felt a shiver run down his spine. After fifteen years of serving in the court, renowned for his severity, no one had ever dared to speak to him so casually. Now, with Lian Zheng back, it was as though madness had taken hold—not only him but also the young emperor. She, too, had started saying things like, “I can’t bear to part with you.” Sometimes, he wondered if he was trapped in a nightmare that wouldn’t end. He couldn’t hurt his friend, and the young emperor was still just a girl. There was nothing he could do except endure the torment himself.

Lian Zheng leaned closer, but the Chancellor irritably pushed him away. “I’m very willing to let you go. I hope you leave soon, so you don’t give the Grand Herald any reason to impeach you and force me to intervene again.”

Leaving was inevitable anyway. He’d already enjoyed a month of leisure, leaving without regrets. However, Lian Zheng only responded to the latter half of the statement, deliberately ignoring the first part—a move that hinted at something more sinister. But Lian Zheng didn’t care how much the Chancellor disliked him. He nudged his shoulder and said, “When she came earlier, I was awake. She mistook me for you and quietly fanned me. Did you see it?”

The Chancellor remained indifferent. “I didn’t see anything. Stop spouting nonsense.”

“How could you not have seen? You stood there by the window for so long, glaring like a ghost. Are you blind?” He rubbed his hands together, sighing. “The young emperor is experiencing the first stirrings of love, just like any other girl. Fanning you, smoothing your hair—these are expressions of her affection. Don’t be so oblivious to romance.”

The Chancellor glanced at his face, suddenly feeling an urge to punch him. “She’s a child we’ve watched grow up. How dare you even suggest such a thing! Lian Zheng, I’ve known you for so long, yet I never imagined you could be such a despicable person.”

And yet, here he was reminiscing about the past, while someone else in the court kept throwing challenges at the young emperor. Lian Zheng was taken aback by the scolding. “What does this have to do with me? It’s not me she’s interested in!”

The Chancellor’s expression remained cold. “She’s young and ignorant, but are you the same? You’re far too idle, which is why you have so much time to gossip. Here’s what I propose: I’ll transfer you to the Western Regions Protectorate. Spend two months there, and I guarantee you won’t even want to speak.”

“No, no…” Lian Zheng waved his hands frantically. “Since when have you become so sensitive that you can’t take a joke? I’m just giving you friendly advice—don’t break her heart too badly.”

The Chancellor sneered, glancing at the yellow ox in the courtyard. “You underestimate her. Do you think she’s still the naive child she was a few years ago? Her supposed affection is merely a strategy born of necessity. Political maneuvering relies not only on schemes but also on power—and audacity. Capturing me alone is equivalent to seizing half the empire. Then comes the killing intent: using my strength to eliminate the twelve feudal lords… It’s a pity she’s still too young. If she were a few years older, perhaps I might consider playing along with her games.”

Lian Zheng listened to his analysis, growing more confused as he went on. A teenager? How could she possibly be as devious as the Chancellor imagined? Clearly, he was projecting his own twisted mind onto others, assuming everyone was as convoluted as he was.

Lian Zheng crossed his arms and shook his head. “In a few more years, won’t you still be single? By then, dragging a family around, even if you wanted to get involved with her, she’d probably ignore you.”

The Chancellor never wasted energy worrying about things that hadn’t happened. He sidestepped Lian Zheng, scooped a ladle of water from the ceramic jar beside his desk, and poured it onto the potted plant on the windowsill. The pot had a hole at the bottom, and the water quickly trickled down the brick wall. Lian Zheng was utterly amazed. For five years, the Chancellor had been watering a fake flower with unwavering seriousness. It seemed his mind really had gone awry.

He called out teasingly, “The Princess Wengzhu has been gone for years. How long do you plan to mourn her?”

Everyone has scars they don’t want touched. The Chancellor’s hand paused mid-air, silent, as he turned to look at him.

Lian Zheng was startled and quickly turned to gaze out the window. “You’ll need to set out early tomorrow, or you won’t reach Quanliang Post before nightfall…”

As he spoke, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Yan Mouren was indeed a formidable figure once. Back then, he ruthlessly eradicated the Prince of Changsha and almost wiped out the collateral branches of the royal family overnight. Once a man whose name shook the heavens, he never expected that this achievement would later become a lifelong torment. While exterminating the main branch, he had somehow forgotten about the girl who had been writing him letters all along! That girl was none other than Princess Chaisang. The Chancellor, in a casual jest, had promised to marry her when she came of age. From the time she was twelve until her death at eighteen in Jiaodong, she waited for him. Sadly, during the purge, the man she yearned for never appeared. The Chancellor betrayed her, and his conscience could not withstand the guilt. The artificial flower she had given him became the vessel of his grief. No one knew what he was thinking when he began watering it every few days. Over the years, the petals faded, as if hoping that one day the ragged cloth would sprout anew and grow into the princess once more.

Whether he had ever loved her, Lian Zheng didn’t know. But he knew the Chancellor felt guilty. Sometimes, guilt was stronger than so-called love. He had intended to console him, telling him not to waste his life, but seeing the ferocity in his eyes, he quickly backed down. Never mind. Let him remain single if he wishes. When someone capable of filling the void in his heart appears, he will naturally heal.

He tightened his belt. “It’s getting late. I still need to pack my things. Are you staying in the palace tonight? Then I won’t come to bid farewell, so you don’t have to wake up early.”

The Chancellor knew there was subtext in his words. Holding back on prying into the details of that night until now must have been difficult for him.

Turning away, he changed the subject. “I don’t know if the rumor about Mars guarding the heart is true or false—I must verify it myself. Tonight, I’ll ascend the Vermilion Bird Tower. Come with me into the palace.”

Lian Zheng hastily waved his hands. “The young emperor hasn’t summoned me. If I follow you in recklessly, wouldn’t I be courting death? Go by yourself—there’s no need to be afraid. At most, she’ll verbally take advantage of you. As a man, you won’t lose anything.”

The Chancellor was momentarily stunned, recalling that drunken night. It wasn’t just verbal advantage anymore. Regardless, the word “afraid” wounded his pride. What was there to fear? This was a child he had personally taught—how could she have transformed completely in just one month?

He conceded, “If you don’t want to go, fine. I’ll escort you out of the city tomorrow morning. Who knows when we’ll meet again after this? Be careful, and if you need anything, just send word. Even if it’s women, I can arrange for them to be sent to you.”

Such a good friend—one like him couldn’t be found anywhere else under the heavens. Lian Zheng patted his arm. “Tonight, dress well. Wear your finest clothes.”

All his fine clothes had been stolen by Lian Zheng. How dare he make such a suggestion! Besides, he was going to observe the stars, not attend a matchmaking event. The young emperor was already suspicious. Tonight, under the guise of star-gazing, who knew what she might attempt? Therefore, he needed to be extra cautious. If it weren’t for the summer heat, he would have considered wearing thicker clothing just to be safe.

Summer days in the imperial city were long, and dusk only began to fall around the hour of Xu. When the Chancellor’s carriage entered the inner palace, the Yellow Gate Attendants were bowing toward the Qing Suo Gate. This was the final step in the daily routine of officials from the Ministry of Works. Once the ritual was complete, they would leave the palace, concluding their work for the day.

The clatter of carriages echoed as they approached the gate. The evening official, spotting them, hurried forward and bowed deeply. “This lowly one has waited for the Chancellor for a long time. I thought you might arrive later, so I instructed the supervisor to prepare. Fortunately, you’ve arrived just in time. Allow me to escort you directly to the elevated walkway.”

The architecture of the imperial city was meticulously designed, perfectly straight and orderly. The palace complex was divided into four sections: east, west, south, and north. The Vermilion Bird Tower stood at the southern gate of the northern palace, with a watchtower outside called the Vermilion Bird Gate. Together with the Azure Dragon, Black Tortoise, and White Tiger gates, they formed the backbone of this massive architectural ensemble. Among the four gates, the Vermilion Bird was the most prestigious, as the emperor frequently passed through it, making its layout particularly grand. To enter the Vermilion Bird Tower, one didn’t need to pass through the ground-level gates; instead, they could ascend to the Black Tortoise Gate, where an elevated walkway connected the two, saving considerable time.

The elevated walkway was built high above the ground, and the wind was especially strong as one walked along it. The Chancellor paused to gaze into the distance. The Vermilion Bird Tower loomed majestically against the sky, visible even from forty miles away. Mars guarding the heart… If this truly became reality, it would inevitably stir unrest among the people. After好不容易 stabilizing the realm, if turmoil arose again, who knew if it could withstand another upheaval?

“You may retire. Finish your duties,” he instructed the evening official, then tucked his sleeves and proceeded forward.

The elevated walkway was long, requiring considerable time to traverse. Night fell, and lanterns were lit throughout the palace grounds. From above, the lights twinkled like stars scattered across the landscape. Meanwhile, the stars in the sky had yet to fully brighten—perhaps because the night was still young. The journey felt hazy and surreal.

Finally, they reached the Vermilion Bird Gate. He descended the long slope, a place he had visited a few times in his youth with Lian Zheng. Later, after being enfeoffed and leaving the palace, opportunities to approach it became rare.

Down the corridor, a figure carrying a lantern approached briskly. It was an usher wearing a Quefei cap and trousers. Bowing deeply from afar, he said, “My Lord has arrived. His Majesty has been waiting for you for some time.”

The Chancellor lifted his robe and ascended the steps. The tower was made of wood, with staircases spiraling upward inside. The usher guided him to the foot of the stairs and then stopped, bowing deeply. “His Majesty has decreed that only my Lord may ascend the tower.”

It was strange how she always created opportunities for them to be alone. In the past, he often thought she feared him, but recently, the situation had reversed—he was the one feeling uneasy.

He felt stifled by his own inexplicable thoughts. Yet again, he reminded himself—what was there to fear? With a flick of his robe, he stepped onto the stairs, climbing level by level. Upon reaching the top, he saw a faint light deep within the hall. The flame danced in the wind, casting a long, slender shadow.