PM - 25

Reuniting with an old friend, a few short words could hardly alleviate the longing accumulated over the years.

She and Shangguan Zhao had been childhood playmates. Back then, Princess Guangyi had a residence in the capital, and he frequently accompanied his mother to the palace without restriction. Later, when the late emperor ascended the throne, on the order of Empress Dowager Zhang, Shangguan Mingyue was enfeoffed as the Marquis of Pingchang, with his fiefdom located in Wuling. When the princess and her husband moved to their fief, Shangguan Zhao remained in the capital to accompany her in her studies because of their close friendship, staying until she turned eleven.

“Your Majesty is growing older and should understand the distinctions between men and women,” the Chancellor had said. Soon after, Shangguan Zhao received orders to transfer to Wuling. On the day of his departure, the Chancellor petitioned for his promotion to Wing Guard General. He left the city alone, and she hadn’t even been able to see him off. Later, she protested to the Chancellor, “A’zhao is someone I trust. I want him to be my Attendant.” But the Chancellor told her, “Your Majesty is still young and may misjudge people. Shangguan Zhao is reckless and unsuitable to remain by your side. Besides, his parents are in Wuling—how can you bear to separate them? Let him return; he will be grateful for Your Majesty’s benevolence. As for your Attendant, I will carefully select a trustworthy candidate for you. Trust me.”

People who say “trust me” are usually not to be trusted. The Chancellor was like a child trafficker in the marketplace, smiling on the surface but harboring a knife within. At that time, though she understood everything, she lacked the power to resist. Thus, two close friends were forcibly separated. To this day, Fu Wei still didn’t know whether being sent to Wuling was good or bad for him. He had two elder brothers, so inheriting the title was out of the question. Staying by her side would have been more advantageous—she could have promoted him repeatedly, ensuring him a marquisate and a marriage to a princess.

But these were all afterthoughts. She warmly took his hand, feeling a surge of tender affection.

A’zhao had grown up now, tall and handsome, yet his eyes remained as she remembered. His eyes were beautiful, indescribably so. When she was little, she had once demanded that he give her his eyes. He had been perplexed but eventually pretended to pluck them out and pressed them onto her eyelids. “There, Your Majesty will grow a pair of eyes just like mine. If you don’t believe me, check again in ten years.”

Ten years later, her eyes had indeed become pure and bright, but compared to his, they still fell short. The older he grew, the more captivating his eyes became—like a vast starry sea, capable of drowning one within.

She stared at him unreservedly, just as she had in childhood. Standing outside the carriage was inconvenient, and it would be improper if the Chief Justice’s subordinates came to pay respects. She pulled him into the carriage and seated him, joyfully asking, “A’zhao, are you happy to see me?”

The felt lining of the carriage pricked his soles. He nodded. “I thought I’d never see Your Majesty again… Your Majesty hasn’t forgotten this humble servant…”

She knew his bitterness and quickly interrupted, “You’re innocent—don’t call yourself a criminal. I’ve always wanted to ask you something: leaving the capital for Wuling wasn’t voluntary, was it? Do you think staying in Wuling was better than being in the capital?”

His answer pleased her. “I never wanted to go to Wuling. I grew up in the capital; Wuling was too unfamiliar to me. I didn’t want to go there at all. But back then… I was powerless. Over the years, I’ve worried about Your Majesty, wondering how you were doing.”

As the emperor, her life was naturally affluent. She smiled. “All the best things in the world belong to me. What’s not good about that? It’s just a bit more exhausting and stifling than others. What about you? Did you marry in Wuling? Were your family affected by this incident?”

He replied, “No. I remember Your Majesty once promised to arrange a marriage for me.”

Fu Wei chuckled, resting her hands on her knees. “That’s right. I almost forgot. This trip to the capital gives me the perfect opportunity to fulfill my promise… But A’zhao, I’m getting married.”

The young emperor’s face showed no joy—marriage orchestrated by someone else’s control couldn’t bring happiness.

“I heard the empress-to-be is the Chancellor’s adopted daughter. Have you met her? Do you like her?”

Thinking of Lingjun, Fu Wei felt ambivalent. That stormy night, he had slept on her dragon bed, and she thought he wasn’t bad. But a queen aspiring to be an elite guard posed a challenge. Scratching her head, she said, “I’ve met her. She’s beautiful and has a personality that suits me, but she belongs to the Chancellor. Appearances can be deceiving—it’s hard to judge someone solely by their face.”

Shangguan Zhao murmured, “It doesn’t matter. Your Majesty can have many consorts in the future—one of them will surely be a confidant.”

His words made sense. Fu Wei smiled meaningfully. “To be honest, I have someone in mind whom I plan to appoint as a consort. But this person is difficult—proud and unwilling to submit to me.”

“Is there really such an impractical person in the world?” For some reason, Shangguan felt like he used to be self-reliant, but meeting the young emperor made him revert to his ten-year-old self, his tone tinged with innocence. Having a playmate who refused to grow up alongside you was truly a blessing!

The carriage window was propped open, and the slanting sunlight streamed through the gaps, casting light on the young emperor’s profile. He scrutinized her features closely—she had changed so much that he almost felt unfamiliar. In his memory, the young emperor always looked pitiful as a child. Perhaps due to the lack of attendants, her neck above the undergarment was often exposed even in winter, making her look freezing cold. Back then, he would take off his fox fur and drape it over her. The next day, she would have ten made, giving half to him to wear alternately… Now she had finally grown up, delicate yet exuding an elegance most men lacked. Seemingly gentle, yet resolute as iron—utterly enigmatic.

Fu Wei was still pondering, chin resting on her hand. If she told A’zhao about this person’s identity, it might scare him to death. Such matters might remain known only to her for life. No matter how close a friend, she lacked the confidence to be completely candid. Like love, her friendships also required half-truths and half-lies.

“It’s fine. Watch me work my magic.” She appeared confident, stretching out her legs and shaking them happily.

Shangguan Zhao seemed to understand, nodding respectfully. “Your Majesty will have your wish.”

She hummed, exhaling deeply as if dispelling all her frustrations, revitalizing herself to discuss official matters.

“Now that the Shangguan family’s charges have been cleared, the Marquis of Pingchang and the princess will return to their fief. You stay here! I need a strong ally and plan to appoint you as Commander of the Eastern Palace Guard and Attendant, responsible for my safety. Not long ago, I was attacked—you probably haven’t heard. A palace maiden sent from the inner court tried to assassinate me and cut my face… Right now, I’m at the crucial juncture of enthronement and marriage. Such incidents may keep arising. With you here, I’ll feel more secure. Not just you—I’m also forming the Office of Imperial Sacrifices to prepare for replacing officials in the future. A’zhao, I no longer wish to live as before. If I can’t make my own decisions, I’d rather die. This throne—anyone who wants it can take it.”

Her last words carried a hint of frustration, but a friend was a friend. Shangguan Zhao advised her not to think that way. Everything was difficult at the start, but once past this narrow path, the road ahead would be smooth.

Unknowingly, night was falling. Pulling back the curtain, dusk enveloped the sky—it was the most uncertain time of day. She rubbed her hands together. “I should return to the palace. Go back and rest for a couple of days. Then I’ll issue an edict for you to enter the palace and report, alright?”

Shangguan Zhao respectfully responded, “Yes,” and disembarked, kneeling in farewell. She, as she did in childhood, tapped the carriage door with her index finger, and the sound of bells rang out melodiously. He stood up, watching the carriage disappear into the distance, gazing at the horizon. The sky was chaotic—had the ominous star alignment ended?

Fu Wei’s plans proceeded rapidly. Besides promoting Shangguan Zhao, she also appointed Wei Shixing as Deputy Chief Justice and Attendant-in-Ordinary. Several other trusted individuals were gradually integrated into the northern and southern armies. The structure of troops stationed inside and outside the capital quietly shifted, alarming many ministers. However, with only five or six changes, raising objections seemed overly dramatic, so they tacitly accepted it.

She knew haste wouldn’t do—progress must be gradual. Next was the grand ceremony for enthroning the empress.

Lately, discussions in court revolved heavily around the ceremony procedures. Ministers expressed various opinions, but the Chancellor remained as impassive as ever.

“Father Chancellor,” she called. “I once said the ceremony would be presided over by you—don’t forget.”

The Chancellor lowered his eyelids, holding his tablet high. “I won’t forget.” His face was calm, but inwardly, he likely harbored resentment. She enjoyed seeing his pretense of suffering silently.

Court adjourned, and she cheerfully exited the Quefei Hall. Waiting for her at the palace gates was A’zhao.

“Will Your Majesty go to the Guanghua Hall?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“To the Lantai Pavilion?”

She shook her head again. “No. It’s a perfect time for autumn drowsiness. I’m returning to the palace to sleep.”

She entered the Eastern Palace with her wide sleeves swaying. The weather was pleasant, and a yellowed leaf floated down. She caught it mid-air, whimsically sniffed it—of course, it had no fragrance—and disdainfully tossed it aside.

For lunch, she ate hot pot with a bit of spice. She sent Bu Hai to fetch ice from the icehouse; numbing the tongue with ice was most satisfying. The young emperor certainly knew how to enjoy life’s little pleasures. She had completely forgotten the Chancellor’s earlier advice to avoid cold foods. After all, nothing unusual had happened after the last ice banquet, so she hadn’t given it much thought.

The consequence of ignoring wise counsel was that she began experiencing stomach pain before nightfall. The pain was dull, radiating from her waist to her abdomen, with an upward surging sensation.

Bu Hai noticed her pale lips and grew worried. “Your Majesty, do you feel unwell somewhere?”

She lay there like a dried fish, unable to move. Suddenly, waves of pain hit her, causing dry heaves. Without time to think, Bu Hai hastily opened his sleeves to catch the vomit—all of the young emperor’s lunch ended up in his sleeves.

Jianye panicked. “Shall I summon the imperial physician?”

Her eyes closed, she weakly replied, “No need.”

Who else could save her besides the imperial physician? Jianye immediately thought of the omnipotent Chancellor. “Then, Your Majesty, I’ll go to the Chancellor’s residence.”

Fu Wei’s legs trembled as she barely managed to sit up. “Prepare the carriage—I’ll go myself.”

When the young emperor arrived at the Chancellor’s residence in her weakened state, the Chancellor was discussing the assassination case with his officials. Upon hearing of the emperor’s arrival, he hurried out to greet her. The young emperor’s carriage didn’t stop; the curtains fluttered, and the black felt rustled softly as it slowly drove into the inner courtyard of the Chancellor’s residence right before his eyes.

He was momentarily stunned but quickly realized—it was the sixth day of the month. The visitor wasn’t the young emperor but her monthly cycle.

What to do? He was her caregiver outside the palace. Though he contested power with her relentlessly, whenever such matters arose, he was always the first person she sought to burden.

Since when had his position become so awkward? The Chancellor didn’t know, standing there helplessly, unsure whether to advance or retreat.

The Chief Secretary gently reminded him, “My Lord, His Majesty has personally come to your residence—is there some great emergency in the palace?”

He shook his head. It wasn’t a major crisis, but it was more troublesome than a coup. He glanced back at the Chief Secretary, saying helplessly, “Let’s conclude today’s discussion here. Go and inform everyone to disperse.” The Chief Secretary obeyed, and he instructed the steward, “Prepare plenty of hot water... I haven’t bathed yet. Also, have the servants withdraw—His Majesty wishes to hold a candlelit discussion with me tonight.”

Why did he think of bathing at this moment? It was utterly baffling! Regardless, the vast Chancellor’s residence fell silent immediately. He entered the bedroom anxiously, only to see the young emperor lying on his bed, curled up like a shrimp. Seeing him, she groaned and called out, “Father Chancellor.”

He really didn’t want to deal with her… Standing still, he tucked his sleeves and said, “Your Majesty suddenly graces my humble abode; this old minister is overwhelmed.”

Even now, he couldn’t resist teasing her. Fu Wei clutched her stomach, rolling over, a faint layer of cold sweat on her forehead. “I won’t last long…”

What could he do? What options did he have? The Chancellor was at a loss. “Has Your Majesty been poisoned?”

She shook her head. “I might be having a child.”

He nearly choked on her response. This person truly was unmanageable, shamelessly resorting to such tactics. Under normal circumstances, he could contend with her, but seeing her genuinely pale complexion, he couldn’t bring himself to argue.

He took a hesitant half-step forward. “Let me have someone brew ginger tea—it’s said to dispel cold.”

Fu Wei clutched the blanket, barely clinging to life, unable to respond further. The floodgates had opened beneath her—occurring only once every two months, its force was indeed formidable. She didn’t dare reflect on how much hardship she endured to reach his residence. Now, lying on his bed, resting on his pillow, at least her suffering wasn’t in vain.

The pain made her unable to open her eyes. Why was it so cold in October? She heard faint footsteps coming and going. The Chancellor’s mouth was stern, but his heart was relatively soft.

The steaming ginger tea was brought to her. Its sharp scent tickled her nose. The Chancellor urged her to sit up. She mustered the strength to lift her head slightly, only for it to fall back limply. “I really am dying…”

The Chancellor frowned, holding the lacquered tray. “You won’t die.” Calamities last a thousand years; if she couldn’t torment him to death, how could she possibly collapse so easily? With no other options, he fetched a wooden spoon to feed her. A girl’s lips, once touched by moisture, glistened. He averted his gaze, eventually pouring the ginger bits into her mouth.

Her stomach warmed, and she seemed to feel slightly better, though she still lacked strength. Propped on the pillow, Fu Wei murmured, “I want sweet porridge.”

Left with no choice, the Chancellor went outside to give orders: “Prepare sweet porridge—I’ll share it with His Majesty.”

The steward found the Chancellor’s behavior odd today—first sharing ginger tea with the young emperor, then sweet porridge… Shouldn’t a man drink strong wine and eat salty plums, living freely and unrestrained? Eating sweets so enthusiastically was truly perplexing.

The Chancellor knew it was strange too, so when the steward slowed his steps by half, he became furious. “What are you dawdling for? If you can’t do it, replace the cook!”

Startled, the steward scrambled away. The Chancellor returned to the bedroom to find her still frowning, seemingly very cold, hugging her shoulders tightly, curled into a small ball.

As a man, since establishing his household, he had never had female relatives, thus he couldn’t understand how painful women’s inconveniences could be. Normally haughty, she collapsed under illness like a mountain falling, ultimately still a young girl. He approached to tuck in the blanket edges, whispering, “This isn’t a solution. I’ll send for a doctor.”

She barely opened her eyes. “Why cause bloodshed?”

After examining her condition, how could they leave any witnesses alive? She preferred to endure the pain, knowing it would pass eventually.

Then she heard the Chancellor sigh heavily. “Were you happy eating ice? What season is it now, and you don’t cherish your body. You never listen to my words, fearing I’ll harm you. In the end, you suffer and run thousands of miles to seek me—I must have owed you in a past life!”

He didn’t know what he was thinking, only feeling an indescribable frustration. He shouldn’t have agreed to look after her for the late emperor. How many emperors engage in losing ventures? Sharing your deepest secrets doesn’t bring honor but endless trouble. When young, she was manageable, but growing up, she became willful and disobedient. Now, burdened with such ailments, she sought refuge with him. How had he, the mighty Chancellor, fallen to this?

She also knew she was at fault, seemingly somewhat ashamed, burying her face in the bedding, leaving only her eyes peeking out, mumbling, “I didn’t eat ice…”

“Still denying it?” he raised his voice. “Aren’t you a hero? Dare to act but not to admit?”

He was angry, addressing her informally without seeming distant. Fu Wei shyly reached out from under the brocade quilt, quietly grasping his hand. “If not for this ailment, what excuse would I have to come to you… I think of you every day, yet you refuse to acknowledge me. Now that I’m ill, will you watch me die, or take good care of me?”

What the Chancellor couldn’t bear most was her intentional display of misery. When lively and vigorous, she schemed endlessly against him; once in trouble, she instantly adopted this pitiful demeanor, truly maddening.

She tugged at him, and he instinctively tried to shake her off. However, her grip was loose, and she was flung heavily onto the bed edge, eliciting a loud thud.

She cried out painfully, “Uncle, how cruel-hearted you are!”

Startled, the Chancellor hurried to check on her. Unexpectedly, she climbed and climbed, catching him off guard, draping an arm around his neck again.