PM - 5

In order to retain absolute power, even a secret buried so deeply had been unearthed. The Chancellor must have kept this daughter hidden all along, waiting for this very moment! Those who had previously been busy recommending candidates now wore expressions of deep secrecy, their ceremonial tablets hanging limply in the crooks of their elbows. It seemed that marrying into the imperial family was no longer an option, but catching a glimpse of the Chancellor’s private affairs was still quite intriguing.

The young emperor on the throne waited for him to respond, but he seemed to enjoy prolonging her anxiety. After a brief pause, he finally spoke slowly: “The daughter I mentioned is not my biological child, but my adopted daughter. When I served as the Grand Commander of the Capital Garrison, one of my most trusted deputies sacrificed his life during the battle in Shuofang. His parents and wife had already passed away, leaving behind only a young daughter with no one to care for her. Seeing how pitiful she was, I took her into my household and raised her as my own. For ten years, I have nurtured her carefully, treating her as if she were my flesh and blood. Initially, I did not intend to mention her, as our esteemed ministers had been diligently assisting Your Majesty. However, after much deliberation without resolution, I thought to propose her. Though she may be somewhat dull-witted, she is endearing nonetheless. Moreover, her father made great contributions to securing the borders of Great Yin. If not her, then who deserves to be empress? Your Majesty is a wise ruler, fair and just in governance. When the edict for establishing the empress is announced, won’t the common people sing praises of Your Majesty?”

The young emperor remained expressionless, likely stunned by the Chancellor’s words.

Now, it seemed there was no choice but to proceed with this plan. How could the descendant of a surrendered general compare to the offspring of a loyal hero? Fu Wei had anticipated that things wouldn’t go smoothly, but the emergence of an adopted daughter caught her completely off guard. Even if Huang Yue’s daughter were to become empress, Fu Wei wouldn’t feel the slightest guilt. But the girl the Chancellor spoke of was different. If her origins were true, how could she bear to send her into such a predicament? With her entire family gone, forcing her to sacrifice her lifelong happiness would be nothing short of openly bullying an orphan!

“The matter of establishing the empress is of great importance,” she said, glancing at the Chancellor. “It must be reported to the Empress Dowager in Yong’an Palace for her decision. Father Chancellor, is your esteemed daughter currently residing in your mansion? Why have I never seen her before?”

The Chancellor’s lips curled slightly upward. “Your Majesty has been preoccupied with state affairs and rarely visits my residence—how could there have been an opportunity to meet her? Besides, young ladies of noble families live secluded lives. She is still young and might inadvertently offend Your Majesty, so I never allow her to meet esteemed guests.”

Fu Wei smiled. “I see. It seems I have been negligent. I will take note of the requests from Father Chancellor and everyone else. A decision will be made in five days. Today’s court session is adjourned here. The case of Wuling’s rebellion still requires urgent attention… Father Chancellor, I leave everything in your capable hands.”

The young emperor leaned her body toward him, resting against the dragon-head armrest of her throne, showing no sign of displeasure. Observing this, the Chancellor inwardly sighed. Children truly change in the blink of an eye. The young emperor had grown up, learned to control her emotions, and would surely become harder to manipulate.

He bowed deeply. “Assisting the sovereign is my duty, Your Majesty. Please rest assured.”

The young emperor said no more, rose, and left Quefei Hall. On the way back, she chose not to ride in the palanquin, instead walking slowly through the passageway, lost in thought. What was originally a joyous occasion had been turned into an unpleasant trap by the Chancellor. Was Yan Xiangru’s sole purpose in life to make things difficult for her? The imperial family had never wronged him, yet he clung to power obsessively. Why didn’t he just declare himself emperor?

Fu Wei lowered her head and kicked a pebble by the roadside. Qin Song watched from the side and asked softly, “Shall we go to Yong’an Palace, Your Majesty?”

The Empress Dowager had never presided over the court or fully grasped the brutal realities of politics. Complaining to her would only worry her without offering any real help.

Fu Wei shook her head and muttered to herself, “During the chaos in Shuofang, was there really such a person among the generals dispatched from the capital…”

Among the twenty-eight meritorious officials, none were known to have suffered such a tragic fate. If the Chancellor’s story was true, she genuinely wanted to meet this adopted daughter.

“Jianye!” she called to the eunuch attending her. “Prepare a carriage quietly. I’m going to visit the Chancellor’s residence.”

Since it was to be done discreetly, there was no need for grand preparations. Returning to Zhangde Hall, Fu Wei changed into a dark robe with fine crimson embroidery along the edges of the black silk—a garment that was arguably the most beautiful among her informal attire.

Life was always like this: gaining something meant losing something else. The heavens never allowed anyone to live too comfortably. This unparalleled glory came at the cost of her happiness as a young woman. While others adorned themselves in bright colors, she wore the imperial robes; while others wore elaborate earrings, she bore the jade pendants of the ceremonial headdress. She watched the palace maids in Beigong painting their eyebrows and lips, looking lovely, but she couldn’t emulate them. All she could do was adjust her attire repeatedly in front of the mirror, consoling herself: Did dressing beautifully earn her the cheers of thousands? No! So compared to cosmetics, she preferred power.

Exiting through the Middle Eastern Gate, a carriage awaited outside. She rarely left the palace, but she remembered visiting the Chancellor’s residence once on her ninth birthday. The Chancellor wasn’t someone who knew how to entertain children. That day had been bitterly cold, with heavy snowfall. He suggested drinking wine to ward off the chill and poured her a large goblet full. At nine years old, she had no tolerance for alcohol, but driven by her competitive spirit, she drank it all in one gulp—and promptly passed out. If the daughter of a meritorious official had fallen into his hands and received his “careful nurturing,” who knows what kind of person she would have become.

The carriage rolled onto the main road, jolting slightly along the way. The Chancellor’s residence was located in the most prosperous part of the eastern city. Its scale was rather ostentatious, bordering on overstepping propriety. After stepping down from the carriage, Fu Wei paused at the foot of the steps to examine the entrance. The lintel had undergone multiple renovations and now bore a striking resemblance to Chengfu Hall in the Western Palace. But these were minor matters, unworthy of concern. Lifting her robe, she ascended the steps, expecting to find three thousand retainers waiting in the courtyard—but there was no one.

From the gate facing the street to the main hall of the residence, there was a considerable distance. Glancing around, she saw no guards stationed in the courtyard—only a man in a long robe, arms tucked into his sleeves, standing under the eaves. The wind lifted the ribbons of his headdress, making them flutter as though about to fly away.

She immediately feigned familiarity, raising her hand in greeting from afar. “Ah, Father Chancellor knew I was coming and graciously came to welcome me!”

The Chancellor returned the gesture with a bow but said nothing.

If he was willing to humor her in court, outside of it, his demeanor resembled that of a renowned scholar whose every word was worth a thousand gold pieces. Even as emperor, her visit felt akin to groveling for calligraphy or paintings. Fu Wei had dealt with him extensively throughout her life and roughly understood his temperament: when he was cold, she had to be warm; otherwise, they wouldn’t even be able to exchange words.

She tapped the jade belt at her waist and looked around. “Why is Father Chancellor’s residence so quiet? Is there a lack of guards? Shall I issue an order to dispatch a squad from the Imperial Guard to watch over your gates?”

The Chancellor looked down at her. “Upon receiving news of Your Majesty’s visit, I dismissed everyone to avoid giving the impression that I have many followers, which might strain relations between us.”

Fu Wei felt a surge of irritation. Did he have to be so blunt? A more tactful approach would have sufficed. She had walked right into his mockery, but for the sake of uncovering the truth, swallowing her pride was worth it.

He led her inside, and she strolled around the room with her hands clasped behind her back, examining the intricately carved beams and painted pillars. Sunlight filtered through the latticed patterns, highlighting the Chancellor’s penchant for luxury.

Turning back, she smiled. “I’ve come today specifically to discuss the matter raised in court. Is the person you mentioned earlier truly not your biological child?”

The Chancellor’s gaze spoke volumes. Who would marry off their own daughter to a fake man unless they were mad? He replied, “I have no family or romantic entanglements, as Your Majesty knows. Without a wife or children, how could I possibly have a daughter of this age?”

This complicated matters further, and she didn’t mince words. “When I brought up the issue of establishing the empress with Father Chancellor, I privately considered it myself. My… half-disabled body—if I were to marry a good girl, wouldn’t it ruin her life? If Father Chancellor were recommending the descendant of a corrupt official, I might feel less conflicted. But hearing this now, it’s entirely different. What should I do? After much deliberation, I fear I must decline your kind offer. I know you’re doing this for my sake, worried that choosing someone unknown might lead to future trouble. However, since this girl has been nurtured by you, your bond with her must run deep. I truly cannot bear to harm her. I hope you can understand my heart and not hold it against me.”

So, was she gently rejecting him? The young emperor’s mind was indeed complex. He had anticipated this, but hadn’t expected her to refuse outright.

The Chancellor remained silent, his lowered eyes revealing nothing. After a long pause, he sighed. “Great Yin has ruled for sixty years, and all past emperors have subdued the world through iron and blood. Your Majesty is the only one who embodies ultimate benevolence. You hesitate to harm others, but have you considered yourself? The fate of the nation rests on Your Majesty’s shoulders. If even a hint of your true identity were to leak, would the regional lords remain as obedient as they are now? The empress would be the person closest to you, but without trust, she becomes a sharp blade, ready to take your life at any moment. Do you truly think taking this risk is necessary? For the stability of the realm, the welfare of one individual is insignificant. I have taught Your Majesty that those who achieve great things must know what to refrain from and what to pursue. Weigh the pros and cons carefully, Your Majesty.”

Fu Wei’s heart churned with conflicting emotions. From the Chancellor’s stance, it was clear he was determined to proceed. Between them, it often felt like they both understood each other perfectly, yet pretended to uphold lofty principles, creating an awkward sense of performing a grand drama. To flatly refuse might cause the entire plan to collapse. But to agree—to turn uncle and niece into father-in-law and son-in-law—was equally unsettling.

“Is Father Chancellor certain this person is reliable?”

The Chancellor nodded. “The succession is crucial. Only by securing a male heir early can the Great Yin dynasty endure.”

Even someone as experienced as Fu Wei was left speechless.

“The succession? Has Father Chancellor forgotten my difficulties… Two women… how can we produce an heir? Are we to adopt?”

The Chancellor shook his head. “It must be Your Majesty’s flesh and blood. Only then will the throne remain secure.”

Her face flushed red, suddenly feeling as though he was deliberately embarrassing her. Wasn’t this just another way to mock her? Pretending to be a phoenix while secretly ruling—did he mean to expose her whenever he pleased?

The Chancellor observed her discomfort but dismissed it as mere maidenly shyness. He clasped his hands. “Your Majesty, would you like to meet my adopted daughter?”

What kind of monstrous creature could marry a woman and still bear children? It was certainly worth seeing.

Fu Wei settled cross-legged on the seat. “Let her come out and meet me.”

The Chancellor raised his hand and clapped, his wide sleeves cascading down to reveal a pair of long, white arms. A long scar ran along his right arm, an old wound that had faded into a faint pinkish hue. Before she could dwell on it, footsteps echoed from under the eaves. Turning her head, she saw the figure framed by the continuous windowpanes, moving like a figure in a painting—disappearing on one side only to reappear on the other.

She narrowed her eyes, a strange sensation creeping up her spine. The girl in the scene was undeniably beautiful, with a delicate profile and clouds of black hair. But why wasn’t she wearing a lotus crown? Instead, she donned a ceremonial cap.