PM - 22

The imperial palace was the heart of the Great Yin dynasty, and when trouble arose within this heart, the entire realm was cast under a dark cloud. The weather seemed to sense it too—rain began pouring in the latter half of the night, its intensity pounding on the roof tiles like thunderous waves crashing into one’s ears.

Fu Wei couldn’t sleep well; the scent of blood lingered around her nose. Just as she was about to drift off, her body suddenly jolted awake, and she lay there staring at the canopy above her bed, tossing and turning, unable to close her eyes again. In moments like these, she always felt something missing—a person to confide in, someone she could speak her heart to. She knew that chaos had erupted in the palace, yet here she was, hiding away in the Zhangde Hall, neither hearing nor asking about what was happening outside. How leisurely—and how terrifying—it all was…

The rain continued, endless and dripping. Her dragon bed was placed near the window, and as a gust of wind swept through, the entire row of lattice windows rattled noisily. The paper on the windows fluttered, as if someone were blowing on them forcefully. She grew afraid and quietly pulled up the brocade quilt, covering herself entirely from head to toe.

Did she want to cry? No tears came. She had cried too much before the age of ten, and A’zhao had told her that tears were the compromise of the weak. Since then, she had forced herself to break this “bad habit.” Born a puppet, those who held her changed endlessly, leaving her memories of people blurred. Later, when she donned the ceremonial robes and ascended the throne, everyone around her prostrated themselves before her. Standing atop the mountain peak, what she heard in her ears was: “With a young master on the throne, this is not a blessing for the nation.” In truth, no one genuinely supported her as an emperor.

She still remembered the early days after ascending the throne. General Li Ji, Chancellor Cao Xuan, and the then-Grand Strategist Yan Xiangru had joined hands, manipulating the entire Great Yin dynasty as though it were clay in their hands. One “posthumous edict” after another appeared daily, as many as they needed. The Empress Dowager had been powerless, and together with her, they wept bitterly over their plight as orphans and widows. Even now, recalling it brought a faint sense of sorrow. But the hardest times had passed—or so it seemed. Yet now, the Empress Dowager was entangled in an assassination attempt. What to do? Beyond anxiety, she felt utterly helpless.

The oppressive heat made her sweat beneath the heavy quilt. Gradually, she found it hard to breathe, and the wound on her face throbbed painfully. With a swift motion, she threw off the covers, welcoming the cool air that momentarily cleared her mind.

She sat up, curling her legs, haunted by the memory of the fight. Suddenly, she heard a soft sound—like the landing of footsteps. Startled, she leapt up, shouting, “Who’s there!”

Sure enough, a figure stood beyond the curtains, pausing briefly before replying softly, “It’s me.”

To barge into the emperor’s chambers at this hour, regardless of who it was, constituted an act of attempted assassination. She swiftly drew her sword and lunged toward the shadowy figure. The hanging fabric was sliced open with a sharp crack, but she couldn’t see how the person defended himself—it was too fast. All she felt was a resonant vibration running through the blade, numbing her hand and nearly causing her to drop her weapon.

The figure finally stepped forward, emerging into the bright candlelight. A youthful face with a noble bearing—it was Nie Lingjun.

“You?” Fu Wei retracted her sword, incredulous. She hadn’t expected him to come, nor did she anticipate that such a young man could possess such remarkable skill.

A faint smile played on his lips as he bowed deeply. “It’s me, Your Majesty. I heard you were attacked and couldn’t rest easy. I broke protocol by sneaking into the palace tonight—I beg your forgiveness.”

Although displeased, Fu Wei hesitated to lash out, considering he was the male empress-to-be she was soon to marry. Instead, she turned away, angrily sheathing Luolu back into its scabbard.

“So, you’re a hidden expert,” she said. “If that assassin had been you, I’d probably be in serious trouble right now.”

Lingjun caught the undertone of resentment in her words and chuckled. “Years of training under the Chancellor have only taught me the basics. Since I’m to enter the palace to serve by your side, without some skills, how could I protect Your Majesty in the future?”

Fu Wei turned to examine him. His features were refined, his demeanor elegant. If he simply stood before you, one might mistake him for a scholarly Confucian scholar. Clearly, the Chancellor had invested considerable effort in grooming him. She nodded. “For someone so young to already possess loyalty to the crown is rare indeed.”

His smile widened. “Your Majesty shouldn’t always treat me like a child. I’m only a year younger than you.” He stepped closer, comparing heights with her. “I’m almost as tall as Your Majesty now. Eat a bit more, and by next year, I’ll surpass you. Then, I’ll follow you every day with my sword. Anyone who dares disrespect you—I’ll cut them in two.”

From his usual composure and seasoned handling of affairs, one might think his maturity far exceeded his years. But sometimes, his words carried a hint of childishness. Truly, the Chancellor’s tutelage produced someone just as unpredictable as himself.

She sighed, returning to the inner chamber. “Then, my safety henceforth rests in the hands of the Empress. The Chancellor visited earlier—he’s likely interrogating suspects in the prison of the inner court now. Does he know you’re here?”

Lingjun shook his head. “I came on my own.”

Fu Wei was astonished. “Through all these layers of guards, you just… walked in?”

He replied casually, “Yes, I memorized the route during my last visit. So, this time, I didn’t take any detours. It’s just that the rain was heavy, and my robes are soaked…”

He stood with his sleeves hanging low, and Fu Wei glanced down—sure enough, deep water stains spread up to his knees. At that moment, she felt this boy was purer and kinder than that wily Chancellor, at least for braving the rain to check on her.

She sighed deeply. “It’s good that you can come and go freely. In the future, you won’t be trapped, and I’ll feel more at ease.”

Though she appeared lofty and invincible, she was actually tender-hearted. She always felt indebted to him for this marriage arrangement and was endlessly apologetic. Lingjun didn’t dwell on it, shrugging indifferently. He tucked his sleeves and studied her face, frowning slightly. “Your Majesty is injured?”

She murmured, “It’s nothing—just a small wound.”

An iron-willed empress, she had perhaps even forgotten she was a woman. He had arrived late, unable to help, but seeing the dark shadows under her eyes, he softly asked, “Why hasn’t Your Majesty retired yet? Can’t sleep?”

She sat on the edge of the bed, her mind a tangled mess, and nodded gloomily. “I’m uneasy.”

Lingjun tilted his head thoughtfully, then suddenly approached, removed his outer robe, kicked off his black shoes, and directly jumped onto her dragon bed. “I’ll stay by Your Majesty’s side and accompany you to sleep.”

Fu Wei was startled, unsure how to react. “How can this be…”

In the glow of his white undergarment, his face appeared pure and harmless. Leaning against a pillow, he extended a remarkably long-fingered hand. “Your Majesty, come up quickly. Since the decree has been issued, it’s perfectly proper for the emperor and empress to share a bed. Besides, I’m here to protect you. Don’t think of me as a man—think of me as a childhood friend or a younger brother from the clan. There’s no need to feel awkward.”

Her expression softened, but she still hesitated. He added, “Isn’t Your Majesty tired? Midnight is approaching. There’s much to do tomorrow—you should rest well tonight.”

She truly needed someone to keep her company, regardless of gender. She wasn’t petty. If she clung to rigid doctrines, the first thing she should do would be to abdicate. Without further protest, she climbed into bed and lay down. He smiled, dimples forming on his cheeks. “Your Majesty, sleep on the inside—I’ll protect you from the outside.”

Fu Wei felt deeply moved. This considerate boy, whether sent by someone or not, was leagues better than that scheming Chancellor. She shifted to the inner side, and he, unhesitatingly, flipped over her, his soft silk brushing lightly against her face, tickling her.

The light from the lamp on the desk was too bright, so he flicked his sleeve, dimming the room. Propping his head with one hand, he coaxed her like a child. “Sleep, Your Majesty. With me here, there’s nothing to fear.”

To ask her to lower her guard was practically impossible, but she was so exhausted that she felt dazed. “Aren’t you afraid the Chancellor will punish you if he finds out?”

He replied confidently, “The Chancellor is busy with the interrogation and has no time to worry about Your Majesty. I’m watching over you on his behalf. Even if he finds out, it doesn’t matter. Once I enter the palace, I’ll be with Your Majesty for the long haul anyway. This is just a few days ahead of schedule.”

As Fu Wei drifted in and out of consciousness, she recalled their previous meetings—at the Chancellor’s residence and later when summoned to the palace. Both times, they maintained formalities and didn’t get to know each other deeply. But tonight, he seemed vivid and alive, relaxed and natural. Perhaps they could become close friends in the future—not a bad prospect.

“Is there no one left at home?” she asked casually, trying to stay awake out of politeness.

He hummed in response. “I once had an older sister, but she drowned four years ago. That’s why the Chancellor petitioned for me to be appointed to the Changqiu Palace. I’m glad about it. Your Majesty is around the same age as my sister—even the position of that rouge mole at the corner of your brow matches hers…”

Fu Wei’s eyes were already too heavy to stay open. She muttered a vague reply before succumbing completely, unable to care even if a knife were pressed to her throat.

That night, she slept dreamlessly, more soundly than ever before. When she turned over, she felt someone beside her—a presence like a skylight opened in a prison cell. Even if she couldn’t leave, she felt content.

When she woke, Lingjun was already gone. This youth came and went like a breeze—how refreshing!

She slipped on her shoes and called out to Jianye, “Did anyone visit last night?”

Jianye, his eyes bloodshot, shook his head repeatedly. “I’ve been guarding all night, and no one entered the Eastern Palace to report.”

Staring only at the gates—what a rigid mindset! If she relied on these people to protect her, she would have been dead eight hundred years ago.

After dismissing him, she changed into her formal attire and prepared to leave the hall. Suddenly, Bu Hai ran up from the corridor below, bowing to report: “My Lord, the Grand Tutor requests an audience.”

She stepped out of the palace gate, and the Grand Tutor was already waiting in the Yuecheng Hall. After exchanging pleasantries, he expressed concern: “I received news last night and wanted to rush to the Eastern Palace immediately, but I feared disturbing Your Majesty. So, I went to the prison of the inner court to check on the progress. Is it true… that this matter is connected to the Yong’an Palace?”

She lowered her gaze, smoothing her wide sleeves. “It’s too early to say, but even if Lady Liu is involved, I believe the Empress Dowager is innocent.”

The Grand Tutor hesitated, wanting to advise the sovereign against favoritism. In the end, however, he didn’t dare voice his thoughts. After all, the incident occurred within the inner palace, and the relationship between the young emperor and the Empress Dowager was that of mother and son. Even if action were taken, a lifeline would surely be left.

He pulled out a letter from his sleeve and presented it. “This morning, I received a confidential report from the Chief Justice. Please review it, Your Majesty.”

Fu Wei took the letter pouch, broke the seal, and read its contents. It detailed Wei Shixing’s findings from his investigation in Wuling Commandery. The prince consort had mobilized troops because he received a falsely transmitted oral edict. The envoy delivered the command face-to-face, leaving no evidence behind. Lord Shangguan Mingyue, residing peacefully in his fief, couldn’t discern the authenticity of the insignia and hastily gathered his forces. Fortunately, it was Lord Shangguan Zhao and the prefectural chancellor who strongly advised keeping the main army stationed in Chanlu. Otherwise, had they joined forces with Prince Yuan Heng of Zhao, even if there were grievances, explanations would have been impossible.

The Grand Tutor observed the young emperor’s expression closely. Seeing her brows gradually relax, he dared not let his guard down and nervously asked, “Your Majesty, any progress?”

She handed the letter over and sighed deeply. “The Shangguan family was indeed wronged. Minister Wei is escorting the fake envoy who carried the insignia to the capital. This person is key to the case—ensure no mishaps occur. Please convey my oral decree secretly to the Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guard. Order him to dispatch a team of guards to meet them outside the city and ensure the person is delivered to… Yunyang Prison, unharmed.”

Yunyang Prison, originally a Qin-era facility, wasn’t large but was sturdy and impregnable, lying outside the Chief Justice’s jurisdiction. Sending the suspect there was the safest option. The Grand Tutor bowed in acknowledgment. “I’ll handle it immediately.”

Fu Wei waved her hand, signaling him to hurry. At present, her resources were scarce. Once A’zhao returned, she could at least breathe easier.

Stepping over the threshold, she stood under the corridor, gazing into the distance. A thousand catties of pressure weighed on her chest, making it hard to breathe. After a night of torrential rain, the sky had been washed clean. The eaves of the Eastern Palace, darkened by the rain, met the morning glow at the horizon, forming a surreal painting. Never before had she felt the situation so tense—confronting unresolved cases and surviving an assassination attempt. Threads of countless issues intertwined, trapping her tightly in their web. What path lay ahead? She knew she couldn’t afford to lose her footing. One step at a time—enthroning the empress, assuming full power, reforming the capital’s military system, cultivating loyalists… there was so much to do. Patience was essential; rash actions would ruin grand plans.

Sighing deeply, she folded her arms behind her back. This was the life of an emperor—one step, one calculation. In truth, she never dared to look too far ahead. Could a female emperor reign for a lifetime? For now, she could deceive others, but in a few more years, her appearance, voice, height… unless the entire court was blind, sooner or later, the truth would come out.

Footsteps echoed hurriedly along the corridor. She looked up and saw the chief eunuch rushing to report: “Lady historians from the Yong’an Palace relayed a message—the Empress Dowager is weeping pitifully within the palace. The gates are sealed by guards, and she cannot see Your Majesty. She asks if Your Majesty might move there to allow her to speak with you.”

Her heart jolted, and she lifted her robe to descend the steps. As she stepped out of the palace gate, she encountered someone. Beneath the rising sun, his gaze was cold and silent. Without a word, he raised his hand, blocking her path.