PM - 48

She adored him like this. In the past, he always wore a stern expression and reprimanded others, making her quite afraid of him. Now their roles had reversed—he viewed her as someone close to his heart. Reflecting on it, it seemed that after the incident at the Shangshu Tai where power shifted, he began gradually leaning toward her. As long as her edicts were reasonable and justified, regardless of whether they harmed his interests, he could yield and accommodate her. She found that handling affairs had become much easier now—this was the difference between having affection and lacking it. For people like them, love meant mutual compromise and mutual benefit. When your greatest political rival became your confidant, the feeling was indescribable—a sense of accomplishment greater than expanding territory. Quietly, they allowed their feelings to grow, without needing public displays of affection. Even stealing a brief hand-hold in private could make their hearts race for hours.

“Hmm, your face is red. Is it from fever or embarrassment?”

The emperor, dressed in ceremonial robes, teased him with a smile, tiptoeing and craning her neck upward. To steady herself, she reached out to grab his sleeve. He raised both arms to support her, his face slightly awkward. “Your Majesty, please don’t mock me.”

Her lips curved into a wide grin as she pressed them together. “Why would I mock you? I’m too busy caring for you.” Amidst his growing embarrassment, she turned gracefully and called out, “Bring the Marquis’s cloak.”

An attendant soon arrived carrying a black cloud leopard-patterned crane cloak. She took it, dismissed the servant, and personally draped it over him. “It’s so cold tonight. Didn’t I tell you not to come?” Her tone carried a hint of reproach, but her hands were gentle as she adjusted his collar repeatedly. “If you catch another chill and your condition worsens, what will we do?”

He reassured her, “It’s nothing serious. Those lords all harbor ulterior motives. I was worried they might gang up and pressure Your Majesty.”

She chuckled at his overthinking. “I’ve increased the guard around the Southern Palace by fifty percent. They should be more concerned about whether I’ve set a trap for them. If they dare act recklessly, I’ll ensure they never return.” Then, coyly shaking him, she added, “Actually, you just missed me and wanted to see me, didn’t you? Don’t be shy. Say it openly.”

He grew flustered, unsure what to do with his hands and feet, completely losing the composed demeanor he had displayed earlier while strategizing.

She burst into laughter—not regal like the young emperor, but mischievous like a playful young girl. Taking his hand, she said, “Let’s go home.” The word “home” sounded particularly rare and intimate coming from her lips.

What she referred to as “home” was merely the small area of the Zhangde Hall. Perhaps not even the front quarters, but only the rear chamber’s bed platform. Her enthusiastic invitation made him feel awkward. After all, sharing the emperor’s dragon bed could provide fodder for gossip among those lords, who would undoubtedly twist the story.

Though young and sometimes impulsive in her affections, he had to consider the broader implications. A balance of power among the three factions sustained the state. If the lords noticed him getting too close to the young emperor—beyond acceptable limits—they might use the pretext of purging corrupt officials to rebel and depose her.

Her small hand felt cool. He squeezed it tightly before letting go. “Your Majesty, heed my advice: maintain the situation as it was at tonight’s banquet. It’s in your best interest.”

Frowning, she asked, “You want them to see you as a thorn in their side?”

He smiled nonchalantly. “I’ve been branded a treacherous minister for ten years. Even if they hate me, what can they do about it?”

Fu Wei was intelligent. She understood his meaning: a treacherous minister could still be feared, but a sycophantic one could be killed. Still, a day without seeing him felt like three autumns apart. She wanted to keep him by her side, preferably never leaving her.

“Or, you could pretend to faint. That way, you’d have a legitimate reason to stay.”

Seeing her hopeful face, he hesitated, finding such an act too embarrassing. Finally, he muttered, “I don’t know how to pretend…” Predictably, disappointment clouded her features. Unable to bear it, he relented, “Have the imperial physician wait in the Eastern Palace. Make a grand show of it so the news spreads.”

Overjoyed, she happily rushed out to give the order: “The Marquis is unwell. Gather everyone from the Imperial Medical Office to treat him in the Eastern Palace.” Then, returning, she supported him, pretending to guide him ceremoniously. “Father Chancellor, be careful. I’ll arrange a palanquin for you to ride into the Eastern Palace.”

He shook his head. Under the cover of night, he could be less formal than during the day. Though weak, he still wished to walk part of the way with her.

The guards on the evening passageways were fewer than during the day—originally stationed every ten paces, now spaced thirty paces apart in the winter night. They walked slowly. The harsh winter wind billowed their sleeves, almost as if they might take flight. He rolled up his sleeves, letting his hands hang low. Occasionally, they brushed against each other due to movement, but unable to hold hands openly, it remained a regretful moment.

If not for this entanglement, he had planned to marry at thirty, regardless of whose daughter it was. Feelings could develop gradually—or not at all. Producing a child or two would suffice. But now, those plans were impossible. Having experienced something deeper, it wouldn’t be fair to settle for anyone else.

No man under heaven could compare to her, let alone any woman! He knew exactly whom he had entangled himself with and prepared for the inevitable challenges ahead. He wasn’t mad or delusional; once he decided something, he never regretted it. When had she forcefully intruded into his heart? Perhaps it was that night atop the Zhuque Gate when she observed the stars without wearing a crown, her lips painted red. That fleeting image alone was enough to leave him wistful.

So, he had liked her for so long. Walking beside her, resplendent in her attire, she appeared at first glance like a handsome young man. He marveled at himself—long past the age of impulsive emotions, yet here he was, falling in love with a teenager nearing twenty-nine. Incredible!

Unaware of his thoughts, she exclaimed, “Ah, Father Chancellor, look! It’s snowing!” Her radiant smile lit up as she pointed to the sky beneath the corridor eaves.

The first snowflakes were light, tiny specks swirling in the wind. He exhaled deeply, facing the snowfall. The fragile flakes landed on his face, melting instantly upon contact with his skin, vanishing without a trace.

Fu Wei rubbed her hands together. “Are you cold? You shouldn’t be exposed to the wind. Let’s hurry.”

She loved the snow, but for his sake, she didn’t dare linger. They could admire the snow tomorrow. If he didn’t recover soon, things would become complicated.

Back at the Zhangde Hall, the duty quarters were already filled with attending physicians. Upon seeing the young emperor and the chancellor return, the Chief Physician led the group to the corridor.

Without speaking, the young emperor waved her hand, the embroidered gold patterns on her sleeves rustling softly. Receiving the summons, the Chief Physician quickly assigned someone to enter the hall. The chancellor knelt on a brocade cushion, his complexion poor and breathing labored. Despite his efforts to remain composed, it was evident he was quite ill.

The Chief Physician examined his complexion, refraining from allowing the attendants to intervene, personally kneeling opposite him to take his pulse. Frowning, he murmured after a while, “The illness lies between the surface and interior, with internal gallbladder fire and disrupted vital functions…”

Fu Wei stood by, asking urgently, “What’s wrong with the Chancellor? What disease is it?”

The Chief Physician rose, bowing deeply to the young emperor, then performed a respectful salute to the chancellor. “Based on the Chancellor’s pulse, external pathogens have invaded the liver and gallbladder, causing excessive heat and affecting the lesser yang.”

“How should it be treated?”

The Chief Physician bowed slightly and replied, “To inform Your Majesty, using herbs like bupleurum, skullcap, ginseng, and pinellia to regulate the vital functions will suffice. However, during treatment, the Chancellor must avoid exposure to wind and cold. Otherwise, if the illness penetrates deeper into the yin channels, it will be extremely difficult to treat.”

Thus, it didn’t seem too serious. Fu Wei asked, “What is the cause of the illness?”

The Chief Physician thought for a moment and replied, “Irregular daily routines, improper exposure to cold or warmth, and excessive sexual activity can all lead to a deficiency in vital energy, allowing pathogens to invade through the meridians…”

Before the Chief Physician could finish, he noticed the Chancellor glaring at him with dagger-like eyes. The atmosphere grew awkward. The young emperor beside them chuckled softly, touching her nose.

Completely bewildered, the Chief Physician stammered, “This is what the medical texts say, but ultimately, it’s due to being exposed to wind and cold.”

“If it’s just from catching a chill, why bring up matters of intimacy?” The Chancellor frowned, annoyed by the eunuchs’ unnecessary chatter that only caused trouble.

The Chief Physician blinked nervously and glanced at the young emperor. “Your Majesty…”

Fu Wei nodded. “Physician Jin, don’t take it to heart. The Chancellor’s irritability stems from his illness; none of this was intentional. You may withdraw and quickly prepare the medicine.”

“Yes,” the Chief Physician hastily retreated from the main hall as if fleeing.

Fu Wei turned around and solemnly instructed the Yellow Gate Attendant, “Did you hear Physician Jin? The Marquis must not catch another chill. Seal the windows in the small chamber with curtains and place two additional warming braziers inside. There will likely be heavy snow tomorrow, so court sessions are temporarily suspended. Deliver the memorials directly to my private quarters—I’ll review them later.”

The Yellow Gate Attendant acknowledged the order and withdrew. She then cheerfully reached out to help the Chancellor. He hesitated slightly. “I fear passing my illness to Your Majesty.”

She dismissed his concern. “We’ve already been close—hugging and kissing yesterday. If it were contagious, it wouldn’t wait until now.” Then, she added casually, “Is this illness really related to excessive intimacy? Don’t tell me that Wei woman came to your residence after you fell ill?”

Fearing she might misunderstand, he quickly clarified, “Physician Jin was showing off his knowledge, reciting textbook causes of chills. That doesn’t mean I’m suffering from such issues. The Wei woman only entered my inner chambers yesterday morning. My servants merely serve tea and water—nothing more, I assure you.”

“No women, then…” She arranged the bedding and glanced back, catching sight of his hand—long, slender, and well-cared-for, exuding elegance. Without speaking, she smiled and gave it an extra look. Startled, he hurriedly hid his hand behind his back.

What was this about? Was he feeling guilty? She eyed him skeptically. “Father Chancellor, you’ve guarded your virtue for twenty-eight years. How have you… found relief?”

The Chancellor avoided answering, deflecting the topic. “Staying overnight in the imperial bedchamber is still inappropriate.”

Fu Wei was magnanimous. After all, it wasn’t his first time staying over—no need to fuss. She pressed him to sit down and removed his outer robe. “Father Chancellor is ill, and it’s proper for me to attend to you.” At that moment, the attendants brought in large warming braziers, placed on either side of the room, quickly heating the small chamber. She casually instructed, “I’ll discuss state affairs with the Chancellor. Have the attendants stand by at a distance.”

The Yellow Gate Attendant acknowledged the order and withdrew beyond the curtains.

Once everyone had dispersed and the windows were heavily covered, the imperial bedchamber felt as secure as a fortress. She helped him lie down and touched his forehead. “Physician Jin’s prescription differs slightly from what’s usually prescribed for you. Changing a couple of herbs might do the trick.”

The Chancellor lay down uneasily, still preoccupied with the earlier banquet. “I anticipated that the lords would pressure me to relinquish power today. I came prepared, but I never expected Your Majesty to make those remarks.”

She sat in the dim lamplight, resting her chin on her hand as she gazed at him. “Which remarks? That I trust Father Chancellor completely, and we’ll discuss the timing of relinquishing power later?”

He hesitated before nodding. “I know Your Majesty has long awaited personal rule.”

Yes, she didn’t deny it. Until just moments ago, she had been thinking of consolidating power and ruling personally. An emperor unwilling to centralize authority couldn’t truly be called an emperor. She refused to be a puppet; personal rule was inevitable—but not at this delicate juncture.

“Since you’re unwell today, let’s set this aside for now and focus on recovering.”

Changing the subject again, she felt their relationship was fragile enough without broaching such sensitive topics, which might end in discord. She understood what power meant to him: there was only one pie, and their circumstances didn’t allow them to share it. They could love deeply, but ultimate power couldn’t be divided—it sounded both decisive and tragic. If one of them were to step back, perhaps the issue would simplify. But whoever stepped back would face ruin—they both knew it.

She looked dejected, and he noticed. After a moment of silence, he said, “I’ve heard about Prince Jing’s report. What Prince Chu asked me earlier—wasn’t that precisely what Your Majesty wanted to ask?”

She raised her eyes, not hesitating. “Didn’t you already answer? First, there’s no solid evidence, and second, you’re not part of the Yan clan. Even if the Yans were annihilated, it wouldn’t involve you.”

The Chancellor’s heart skipped a beat. “Your Majesty…”

Seeing his expression change, she quickly laughed it off. “I was just speculating. Did you take it seriously? I assume the Yan clan, as a century-old noble family, wouldn’t engage in self-destructive acts. Even if they were implicated, I wouldn’t let the consequences affect you. In strategy games, there’s a move called ‘sacrifice the chariot to save the general.’ I believe you understand this principle. Though I am the emperor, I’m selfish, and my mind is filled only with you.” Smiling teasingly, she flicked his chin. “I protect only one person. Others’ lives and deaths matter not to me.”

The Chancellor listened silently. Her use of “I assume” revealed she hadn’t intended to confess anything. The anonymous accusation implicating the Yans and Prince Jing last time had been orchestrated under her orders. Still, one thing was fortunate: this incident in Shu likely wasn’t her doing. Had it been, today’s grand banquet wouldn’t have ended inconclusively. With ministers and nobles present, it would have been a perfect opportunity to corner him. Yet she hadn’t acted, wasting the mastermind’s efforts. As for who that person was, he had already ordered an investigation. Wei Shixing was skilled at handling cases—keeping an eye on him would reveal everything.

But despite this, he still found her somewhat inscrutable. She held back, just as he did. Neither wished to relinquish power, fearing the other would become untouchable once holding full authority. Thus, neither was nobler than the other. Wolves paired with tigers—this metaphor suited them perfectly. A battle of wits and courage in love—even when loving, they dared not open their hearts fully, fearing the other might suddenly strike…

Outside, the wind and snow seemed to intensify. The carved birds beneath the palace eaves caught the wind, howling mournfully across the tiles like whistling.

From outside came the sound of rhythmic clapping. Fu Wei turned, descended from the bed platform, passed the fire-lit screen, and brought in the medicinal broth.

With mutual reservations, their thoughts remained scattered—it was unsettling. When apart, they longed for each other; when together, they began calculating. Who knew when they could act like ordinary people, speaking without overthinking every word?

She carefully cradled the bowl of medicine, blowing on it repeatedly to cool it lest it burn him. Watching him finish, she picked up a preserved fruit and fed it to him. “Sweet?”

The Chancellor chewing the preserved fruit looked rather adorable—one cheek puffed out, like a child. Before he could nod, she leaned in, licked the sugar-coated peak of his lips, and pressed her hands against his chest. “Sweet?”

Under her palms, his heart pounded wildly—she could feel it. His face flushed red again. Strange—here was a man who could debate political rivals with composure, yet with her, even slight teasing turned him into a flustered youth. This was love!

The Chancellor felt his condition worsening—not just fever and chills, but now palpitations and chest tightness. She asked earnestly, her large eyes shining brightly in the lamplight. Struggling, he managed a faint “Mm,” and she seemed satisfied. Smiling indulgently, she untied her sash, removed her ceremonial knee-cover, and tossed it aside, stripping down to her undergarments before snuggling up to him.

“Your Majesty, this isn’t appropriate…” he protested weakly.

She covered his mouth with one hand and unpinned her hair with the other, letting her black tresses cascade down. “Look at me—don’t I look like a girl now?”

She was indeed a girl—the most beautiful girl in the world. Though memories of her tear-streaked face lingered, she had grown into adulthood. Without her imperial crown, she possessed a unique charm that overshadowed those painful impressions.

“You’re still ill—I won’t harm you. Besides, Physician Jin said excessive intimacy might be a factor. I won’t add to your burden.” She smiled generously. “I didn’t intend to keep you in my dragon bed, but since we always meet at night, what else should we do besides sleep? I promised…” She shifted her body to the other side. “…to warm your feet. A promise made is a promise kept.”

To his astonishment, she gathered his feet into her arms, cradling them against her chest. “Warmer now?” Finding his footwraps bothersome, she yanked them off. “Much better… Father Chancellor, this is the first time I’ve seen your feet! Isn’t it customary in our land to remove shoes as a sign of respect? Why have I never seen you barefoot before me? After all, I am the emperor, and you are my minister.”

The Chancellor was utterly disoriented. This girl, accustomed to wielding masculine tactics, employed every trick from worldly seduction on him. But he couldn’t protest—great men overlook minor details. He forced himself to remain calm.

“Because I am Your Majesty’s uncle… By rank, I… need not remove my shoes in your presence.”

She drew out a long “Oh,” then lowered her head to examine his feet again. Men’s feet were so large! True to form, the Chancellor took excellent care of his body. Just as he used fragrant oils for his hair, his feet were clean and well-groomed.

How wonderful, she thought warmly, cradling them even more tenderly. Unbuttoning her undergarment, she nestled his feet against her chest. The winter clothes were voluminous enough to conceal her figure—so this time, he got lucky.

“Won’t you step on them?” she teased, blushing. “Though I’m not as beautiful as the Huji dancers, comparing myself to them today, I don’t think I fall too far behind.”

The Chancellor was utterly petrified, his face a kaleidoscope of emotions impossible to describe. Seeing him unmoving, she pressed lightly on the top of his foot. “Not pleased? Or have you already made comparisons?”

The Chancellor flushed deep red. “How could I compare!”

“Then what?”

Never had he encountered such a woman! The Chancellor called to heaven and earth, but neither responded. His feet, cradled in her hands, couldn’t move—and the soft, tantalizing sensation traveled from his soles to his brain. Undeniably, in all his years, he had never experienced anything as enticing as this.

Fu Wei waited half a day without hearing a word from him. Straightening her posture slightly, she pouted. “What do you mean? Would praising me kill you?” Her coquettish demeanor spilled from the corners of her eyes. Blinking once, twice, she saw the Chancellor cover his mouth as if struggling to suppress a cry.

Within the feathered canopy, the air grew thick with heat, beads of sweat forming at their temples. Tingling sensations spread through his limbs. Like a jade mountain about to collapse, the Chancellor slumped sideways, finally exhaling a faint “Good.”