PM - 21

The door hinge emitted a faint creak as Bu Hai shuffled in from outside. On the other side of the curtain, he softly reported: “My Lord, Chancellor Yan has come to the palace to visit you and awaits your summons outside the hall.”

Fu Wei sat quietly in front of the candlelight, her bronze mirror gleaming. She could see the scars on her face in the reflection. He had always been dismissive of her appearance; now that her face was marred, perhaps she would be even less appealing to him. After the storm had passed, she found herself reflecting. She remembered her late father once telling her that those of lesser intelligence govern through force, while those of greater wisdom govern through hearts. Though she harbored feelings for the Chancellor, upon deeper analysis, it was mostly about mastering control over others. Everyone has selfish desires, and she needed a strong arm to lean on, someone who could help her rule the world from atop their shoulders.

If an opponent is too strong to defeat, one might try turning them into an ally... but alas, this man seemed impossible to win over. The events of earlier replayed in her mind like thunderclouds rolling with lightning. Who had sent Han Yan? Perhaps Prince Chen, or Marquis Xie, or maybe even the Chancellor himself. In any case, during the attack, she had no one to rely on. As she fought the assassin with her sword, she had hoped for him to come—but when help finally arrived, it was almost too late. If not for the skills honed over the past ten years, she might already have crossed the bridge of no return.

Being an emperor was hard. To outsiders, it looked grand and glorious, but only she knew the hardships. While other girls played chess or embroidered flowers, she trained with swords and spears on the practice field. When others wrote poetry or admired blossoms, she was poring over mountains of bamboo slips reviewed by the Chancellor.

Heh… how tragic! Still, her heart was strong enough to endure, otherwise how could she survive in this world?

To see him or not? Honestly, she didn’t want to see him at all. But problems couldn’t be ignored forever. This time it was an open assassination attempt—next time, poison might be slipped into her food.

She sighed deeply. “Invite the Chancellor to speak behind the screen.”

Bu Hai nodded and backed out, bowing to the Chancellor waiting under the eaves. “My Lord commands that His Excellency speak from beyond the curtain.”

The Chancellor’s lips tightened slightly. Before coming, he had imagined she would pour out her grievances to him, even lean into his arms for comfort. He hadn’t expected such coldness. Perhaps she had truly been frightened this time. Earlier, when he asked Jian Ye, he heard her cheek was injured… He felt some concern, but if she refused to face him, there was little he could do.

He lifted his robe and stepped inside. Bu Hai bowed, holding a bronze lantern to light his way. He walked quickly, the dragon-patterned brocade of his robe seeming to leap in the flickering lamplight. Passing through the outer hall, he paused by the lacquered gold pillars. Looking closely, deep sword marks scarred the sturdy nanmu wood, and dark stains still wet the golden bricks near the base. A faint, decaying smell of blood lingered in the air—all evidence of what had transpired.

On his way here, he had heard vivid accounts of the young emperor’s battle with the assassin. Cutting off the attacker’s right hand and pinning her to the pillar sounded exaggerated, but now it seemed true. Sweat dampened his brow. Fortunately, the assassin had been a woman. What if it had been a man? Or if the attack had been more meticulously planned, carried out without haste?

Fear surged through him. One ruler, one set of ministers—the fate of the prime minister was inevitably tied to the sovereign. If someone else were to take control of the empire, how much planning and execution would be required? It wasn’t worth it.

He gazed toward the depths of the palace. Beyond the curtains, the flame of the bronze-winged lamp flickered. Through the misty veil, the silhouette of a person sat calmly at a desk, seemingly unruffled. Silently, he approached and bowed deeply, hearing her flat tone from behind the curtain: “You’ve been disturbed again, Father Chancellor.”

He clenched his hands tightly at his sides. “Is Your Majesty unharmed?”

“I am fine,” she replied. “Thank you for your concern, Father Chancellor. The assassin has been taken to the prison of the inner court. Please ensure that you and the Chief Justice interrogate her thoroughly so that she reveals the mastermind behind this plot.”

That went without saying. Even without her orders, he knew what to do. For over sixty years since the founding of the Great Yin dynasty, undercurrents had never ceased, though outwardly things remained calm. Now that such a major case had arisen, a storm of bloodshed was inevitable. Trying to console her, he said gently, “Your Majesty can rest assured. I will use every means necessary to bring justice to you.”

But the voice from behind the curtain responded sharply, “I am the emperor. I don’t need justice—I just need results. It is the people of the world who deserve justice from you, Father Chancellor. These traitors sought to kill their sovereign and destabilize the state—how could I possibly tolerate them! Han Yan is key to this case. Begin your investigation with her. No matter how close the perpetrator may be, they must not escape lightly.”

Her words implied that the perpetrator might very well be Empress Dowager Liang. When the late emperor named her crown princess, Lady Lou was forced to take her own life that same night after the edict was delivered to the Hefan Palace. With a young heir and a powerful mother, it was feared that the empress dowager would dominate the court and favor her family, so removing the mother while keeping the son had long been an unwritten rule of dynastic succession. Thus, while the child became king, the mother met a tragic end. In her youth, Fu Wei had been brought to the Changqiu Palace and adopted by Empress Liang as her daughter. Though Empress Liang adored her, due to her unique status, the previous emperor forbade the empress from getting too close. Whenever Empress Liang visited, she would stand at the end of a long corridor and send flowers via a eunuch—sometimes a chrysanthemum, sometimes a bunch of smartweed. As a child, Fu Wei often suffered rashes on her arms, which the leaves of smartweed could treat. For a girl deprived of maternal love, these small gestures were immense acts of kindness. Standing on tiptoes, she would wave to Empress Liang in the distance, calling out sweetly, “Mother!” Her voice echoed clearly across the passageway…

Alas, as she grew older and moved further along her path, she gradually came to rely on no one. After ascending the throne, her majesty became formidable, commanding respect. But deep down, Empress Dowager Liang held a place akin to her birth mother. Now that the assassination attempt implicated the Yong’an Palace, it dealt her a severe blow.

Lost in thought, the Chancellor blinked and realized he had begun to empathize with her. After all, he had watched her grow up and invested considerable effort in grooming her for power. Moreover, she had once called him Uncle. Feeling compassion for her now seemed natural.

Discussing Empress Dowager Liang further might only cause her more pain, so perhaps it was best to avoid the topic for now.

From behind the billowing curtains, he strained to see clearly but failed. “I heard Your Majesty was injured. May I inquire about the severity of your wounds? Might I see your face?”

Startled, Fu Wei hastily covered her face with her wide sleeve. “It’s merely a flesh wound. Medicine has already been applied; it’s nothing serious. A fierce battle lies ahead, and there’s much for you to attend to, Father Chancellor. There’s no need to linger here. Escort the Chancellor out.”

As she issued the dismissal order, Bu Hai hurried forward to guide the Chancellor away. However, he did not comply. “Your Majesty has been frightened—it is my fault for failing in my duties. Though I shouldn’t trouble you further, inspecting your injuries is part of the investigative process. Please forgive me, Your Majesty.”

The assassin was still alive, her weapons and techniques traceable—was examining her injuries really necessary? Fu Wei tried to refuse, but suddenly the curtain lifted, and he disregarded her entirely, stepping into the inner chamber.

Annoyed yet constrained by propriety, she reproached him softly, “Did Father Chancellor not hear my words?”

Outside the curtain, Bu Hai and Jian Ye exchanged glances. Wasn’t it inappropriate for the Chancellor to openly defy the imperial command? But as regent, he had monopolized power for years. Even the palace eunuchs and attendants were chosen by him. Who dared stop him when he dared to defy authority?

“You may leave.”

The order came—not from the young emperor within, but in the Chancellor’s voice. Bu Hai blinked, looking at Jian Ye, who lowered his eyes and murmured, “Yes,” subtly tugging Bu Hai’s sleeve before bowing and retreating. Bu Hai followed hastily, stealing a glance back before exiting the hall. The Chancellor’s figure obscured the young emperor’s, and the curtains hung like a puppet show backdrop, making the furniture loom large under the lamplight.

The palace doors closed behind them. The Chancellor paid no heed to the eunuchs’ supposed “thoughtfulness.” Instead, he suggested, “Your Majesty should move to another sleeping chamber. I’ll arrange it immediately.”

As he spoke, his gaze fixed on her cheek. Initially, she tried to conceal it, but he forcibly pushed aside her cloud-patterned sleeve to examine the wound in the lamplight. Though the cut was long, it wasn’t deep. He breathed a sigh of relief—it could have been much worse.

Fu Wei resisted, turning her face away. “There’s no need. If I dare fight, I’m not afraid of nightmares. I appreciate your goodwill, Father Chancellor. You’ve asked your questions and examined my injury—you may leave now.”

He understood her foul mood and chose to overlook her sharp words. Reaching into his sleeve, he pulled out a vial of medicine, uncorked it, and moved to apply it to her wound. But she flinched, raising her hand abruptly and knocking the porcelain bottle onto the center of the floor.

The bottle rolled across the woven mat, scattering powder through the gaps between the bamboo strips. The Chancellor frowned at her. “That was top-quality ointment from the Western Regions, guaranteed to prevent scarring. Your Majesty’s distrust truly chills my heart.”

What of it? Was a chilled heart worse than losing her life? During training exercises on the field, soldiers would spar with her—but pulling punches and fighting to the death were different matters. Had he any idea what it felt like to have Han Yan’s sword so close to her neck? Standing atop Mount Tai, she was destined for solitude. Unable to resist, she could only endure. Mistrust had always been present, but today’s events had magnified it exponentially.

She couldn’t say these things outright, lest she damage relations. Touching her forehead, she added with a hint of regret, “I was foolish to reject your kindness, Father Chancellor. Thankfully, her blade wasn’t poisoned, and I remain alive and well. Scars don’t matter—I’ve always had a plain face. Whether marked or unmarked makes little difference.”

He knew she was sulking, still upset over his deliberate taunts from previous encounters. But could he be blamed for them? She had frightened him!

He retrieved the porcelain bottle, shook it, and was relieved to find some remaining. Plugging it with a wooden stopper, he placed it on the table beside her. “Take care of yourself, Your Majesty. Leave the rest to me. I will get to the bottom of this matter.”

He bowed and slowly retreated from the chamber. As he descended the steps, he looked up. There was no moon tonight, but Mars and Antares still competed amidst the stars… How many people secretly rejoiced at this celestial sign!

The assassin Han Yan was a palace servant selected last year by Empress Dowager Liang to serve the young emperor. Liu Ao, indulging in favoritism, had personally chosen her from among a thousand candidates and escorted her into the Zhangde Hall. Regardless of whether she was aware of the scheme, she bore responsibility for how things had unfolded. Exiting through the Yuecheng Gate, the Chancellor found the Chief Censor, Chief Justice, and Commander of the Imperial Guard waiting. Seeing him, they rushed forward to inquire, “Excellency, does the Emperor have any orders?”

He nodded. “Thorough investigations are to be conducted, sparing no one—not even kin. Dispatch a team of elite guards to arrest Liu Ao in the Yong’an Palace without alarming Empress Dowager Liang. Station another group of guards at the palace gates; no one is to enter or leave freely. Since the assassin had been hiding in the inner court, set up an interrogation room and summon all palace servants for questioning. Also…” He furrowed his brows. “…the Eastern Palace’s defenses must be strengthened.”

The Chief Censor hesitated before interjecting, “Excellency, just now the chief eunuch of the Zhangde Hall conveyed the Emperor’s oral decree: personnel in the Eastern Palace shall remain as per the old system, with no additional posts.”

After a moment of silence, he murmured, “Perhaps there are other arrangements. Very well, matters before the Emperor are for her to decide. Our immediate priority is the investigation. We don’t yet know if this case is linked to the Wuling incident—be mindful during the inquiry.”

Everyone acknowledged his instructions and dispersed to carry them out.