PM - 20

The young emperor summoned the women to her presence and, upon hearing their purpose, was momentarily stunned. “This is… the Empress Dowager’s idea?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” replied Madam Liu. “The Empress Dowager said that the servant girls recruited into the palace last year should now be brought before you for your service. In previous years, we refrained due to Your Majesty’s youth, fearing premature intimacy might harm your constitution. Now, however, with your wedding just months away, it’s time to familiarize yourself with matters of the bedchamber. We wouldn’t want you struggling awkwardly when the empress arrives, inviting ridicule from the Inner Palace.”

The young emperor sat dumbfounded, clad in casual robes without a crown or sash. Though her features were stern, there remained a trace of youthful naivety. Madam Liu had watched her grow up since childhood; she knew the emperor’s gentle temperament. Perhaps the sudden request to take concubines frightened her.

“There’s no need for concern, Your Majesty,” Madam Liu reassured her with a smile. “I’ve already instructed them beforehand. You only need to allow them to serve you.” She pushed the women forward gently. “Though they are older than you, this is their first time as well. If they falter, I hope Your Majesty will show mercy.”

The young emperor grew even more surprised. “All three at once?”

The people in the hall flushed red, and Jianye, standing nearby, couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” the emperor snapped, her brows furrowed.

At the emperor’s anger, everyone immediately bowed their heads and retreated to the side. Jianye, with no choice, stepped forward and saluted nervously. “Your Majesty, your precious blade has yet to be unsheathed. Overexertion might not be wise. These three consorts are presented for your selection—you may choose one. Of course, if you prefer, keeping all three is also acceptable.”

The phrase “precious blade has yet to be unsheathed” was vividly specific. The person seated on the throne drifted off again, wondering whether the Chancellor’s blade had been unsheathed. She had sent someone to investigate—knowing oneself and one’s opponent was key to victory. He likely had someone special in mind, a beautiful girl who existed vividly and deeply, leaving no room for her.

“Your Majesty… Your Majesty…” Seeing her distracted, Jianye whispered urgently, “Please give us your decision. Madam Liu is still waiting to report back to the Empress Dowager.”

Fu Wei finally responded with an absentminded “Oh.” Choosing concubines for herself felt absurd. What good was it to keep them? To simply let them sit idly by?

“Madam Liu, take them back and convey my thanks to the Empress Dowager for her concern. For now, I have no energy for this matter. There’s no harm in postponing it.”

But Madam Liu persisted. “Your Majesty must not disappoint the Empress Dowager’s intentions. I understand that Your Majesty is preoccupied with state affairs, but attending to concubines is also a matter of national importance—it cannot be taken lightly. Since they’ve been brought here, why not keep them all? Find some time—it’ll be done before you know it.”

Jianye chimed in from the side. “Your Majesty, as the saying goes, sharpening the blade doesn’t delay chopping wood…” A sharp glare from the young emperor silenced him instantly.

Sharpening indeed—but she needed a blade to sharpen in the first place. Yet, sending them back after such insistence would surely hurt the Empress Dowager’s feelings. Frowning, she scrutinized the three women again. Their appearances seemed ordinary… Suddenly, a piercing gaze shot through the air, sharp and cutting like a blade. She pressed her lips together, studying them closely, then pointed to one of the concubines. “Keep her.”

Madam Liu’s joy was hidden in the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “Then I’ll go report to the Empress Dowager. I take my leave.”

Fu Wei stood blankly, watching as the elaborate hems of the concubines’ robes swayed like undulating fish tails. They soon exited, leaving behind only the chosen woman, who stood with her sleeves folded, showing none of the expected nervousness or shyness before the emperor.

Fu Wei rested her hand against her temple. “What is your name?”

The woman spread her wide sleeves and knelt deeply. “Your servant Han Yan pays respects to Your Majesty. May Your Majesty live ten thousand years in peace and joy.”

Her thick hairdo revealed a slender neck beneath the green collar, and her hairpins quivered slightly, exuding a delicate beauty. Fu Wei exhaled slowly. “Rise. Tonight, I entrust myself to you.”

Han Yan bowed even lower, replying calmly, “Yes.”

The young emperor’s first woman—if she didn’t become a consort, the title of Beauty was inevitable. Jianye approached with utmost reverence, guiding her to the western hall for preparations.

Night had fallen. Fu Wei stood before the incense burner, gazing outward. Along the straight path, dozens of eunuchs carrying lanterns approached, their figures dark silhouettes in the night. When the palace lamps reached the foot of the steps, they suddenly burst forth, illuminating the previously dim courtyard until it glowed like daylight.

She stood for a moment, then turned and entered the inner chambers, removing the deer-horn sword from the wall and placing it casually on the lacquered long table.

Ordinary imperial favors required no grand ceremony. Pouring herself a cup of wine, she observed under the bright lights as the concubine was ushered in by eunuchs and attendants, her crimson robe billowing seductively in the evening breeze.

Fu Wei smiled, her bright eyes gleaming. Jianye thought the young emperor looked exceptionally regal tonight, truly embodying the majesty of a ruler. He gently nudged Han Yan forward, whispering instructions in her ear before leading the others out of the sleeping quarters.

Han Yan stood alone, while outside the curtains, the court historian stood with his back turned. The young emperor beckoned her with a curl of her finger. After a slight pause, Han Yan lifted her skirt and slowly approached. About three paces away, the emperor suddenly commanded, “Stop,” and she obediently withdrew her advancing foot.

“Where are you from?” the emperor asked kindly. The young ruler’s face bore both ambition and gentleness, making her true nature inscrutable.

Han Yan bowed slightly. “Your servant is from Yunzhong Commandery.”

“Yunzhong…” The emperor mused. “South of Yin Mountain, north of Youyu, belonging to Zhao. I’ve heard that the people of Zhao excel in mounted archery, using cavalry to charge and retreat with great agility and speed during battles.”

Han Yan did not respond to the emperor’s words but simply said, “Unfortunately, I am a woman and know nothing of such things.”

The seated ruler hummed thoughtfully, her gaze shifting back to Han Yan with a playful gleam. “Are you planning to attend me still fully clothed?”

Indeed, this was a universal trait among men—whether the ruler of the world or a common laborer, at moments like these, there was no difference.

She smiled softly, her hands moving downward gently, subtly… The delicate texture of silk broke under the roughness of her palms, producing faint metallic sounds audible only to herself. As her fingers brushed against the waistband wrapped in fine fabric, she twisted her wrist to undo the knot. With a decisive snap, a soft sword was already in her hand.

Without hesitation, she lunged forward, her peripheral vision catching fleeting streaks of fire. The young emperor reacted swiftly, spinning to draw her sword in defense. But her blade was flexible, rebounding off the deer-horn sword and slicing across the emperor’s face.

Such tender skin could not withstand a cut! However, the young emperor’s skills were commendable, each move aimed to take a life. In any battle, the first few exchanges often revealed the opponent’s strength and one’s own chances—or perhaps it was due to the disparity in physical strength between men and women. After ten rounds, Han Yan clearly struggled to keep up, and in a moment of carelessness, she was struck by a palm, retreating four or five steps.

The young emperor fought unlike those emperors who screamed for protection. She gritted her teeth silently, the hall filled with flashing swords and shadows, yet neither spoke, driven by an unyielding determination to survive. Alas, outside the curtains, someone else was present. The court historian, responsible for recording the emperor’s intimate affairs, finally shrieked, “The concubine is attacking! Help, quickly!” His cry pierced the heavens like a hunting horn.

Guards surged in from all directions, their swords and spears glinting coldly. If she faced a hundred opponents, the outcome was clear. Han Yan hadn’t expected the seemingly fragile emperor to mount such a fierce counterattack. Despair crept up her spine, and even gripping her sword became difficult. Facing off at opposite ends of the hall, blood seeped from the young emperor’s smooth cheek. She wiped the wound with her sleeve, clearly enraged, yet a chilling smile played on her lips.

That smile sent chills down spines. Guards moved to apprehend Han Yan, but the young emperor waved her sleeve, dismissing them all, then launched another dazzling assault.

The deer-horn sword was a heavy blade of Qin royalty, capable of sweeping away a thousand obstacles. Usually worn as an ornament by emperors, many forgot its storied past. It had slain Jing Ke and executed Bai Qi. Now, wielding it against a mere concubine almost insulted its legacy.

Fu Wei cherished her royal sword, so within three moves, the outcome was certain.

Even as Madam Liu led the three concubines into Zhangde Hall earlier, Fu Wei sensed something amiss. A maiden facing the man she would soon depend on could remain composed without a ripple of emotion—something even she couldn’t achieve. Did Han Yan think her observations went unnoticed? Sitting on the throne, if she lacked even this basic vigilance, how could she have survived this long?

The apparent calm of Da Yin didn’t mean the lords were subdued or the realm secure. Reflecting on it stirred fear—someone wanted her dead, planting assassins who had lain dormant in her palace for over a year. The recent Mars retrograde provided the perfect opportunity, prompting them to act.

Those ruthless relatives had never abandoned their desire to kill her! Her accumulated fury poured onto the assassin before her.

Severing her right hand ensured she’d never wield a sword again. The deer-horn sword pierced her shoulder blade, the sound of tearing flesh its own satisfaction. With all her strength, Fu Wei shoved, pinning Han Yan like a butterfly impaled on a needle to the pillar of Zhangde Hall. Blood dripped steadily, pooling amidst the scent of frankincense, creating a nauseating mix. She stared fiercely at the now-defenseless Han Yan and, after a long pause, spoke. “Take her away for interrogation. Don’t let her die.”

Everyone present, including the guards who rushed to save her, was stunned by the young emperor’s unexpected brutality. No one imagined the ruler who enjoyed gardening could possess such cruelty. Yet, with the event unfolding, the priority was damage control. In unison, they acknowledged her orders: arresting the assassin, cleaning the hall. Bu Hai trembled as he picked up the severed hand, turning back to see the young emperor standing coldly in the center of the room, emanating an unfamiliar, terrifying aura.

No one dared to offer counsel except Jianye, who cautiously suggested, “Your Majesty, tend to the wound on your face first. If improperly treated, it may scar.”

Only then did Fu Wei realize the excruciating pain on her cheek. Rushing to the mirror, she saw a wound about an inch long embedded in her flawless skin—conspicuous and ugly.

She covered half her face and closed her eyes.

Jianye ventured again, “Such a significant incident will soon alert the Chief Justice and the Chancellor’s office. Shall I send word and invite the Grand Chancellor into the palace…?”

Before he finished, Fu Wei cut him off. “No need.”

Jianye fell silent, not daring to say more. Only after cleansing the wound and applying medicine did he dismiss the attendants.

“Your Majesty…” he hesitated, trembling, before continuing, “The family member selected for tonight’s favor is Madam Liu’s great-niece, a trusted confidante of Empress Dowager Liang. Does Your Majesty know?”

Fu Wei was taken aback. She had assumed enough time had passed since last year’s selection to require rechecking Han Yan’s background, never expecting her to be related to Madam Liu. People close to the Empress Dowager… Others might cause less trouble, but this was Madam Liu, the wet nurse the Empress Dowager relied on even before marrying into the royal family. This incident would inevitably implicate the Empress Dowager.

Her mind was a blur, unable to discern right from wrong. She muttered absently, “The palace’s security is lax. If this continues, I’ll become a fish on a butcher’s block.”

Thus, she resolved to promote trusted allies. Positions like Attendant-in-Ordinary and Regular Palace Attendant couldn’t remain vacant. Silently calculating, she pondered whom she could trust. After a decade of cold observation, a few reliable individuals came to mind…

Returning to the desk to grind ink, she prepared to write a list of names when suddenly she heard someone call for the Chancellor outside the hall. Normally, the prospect of his arrival filled her with joy, but now, a trace of disgust arose. After a deadly struggle, she realized no one could protect her. To survive, she had to rely solely on herself.