PM - 52

Only remembering childhood friendship while forgetting the principles of ruler and subject is not a good thing. The Chancellor entered and immediately delivered a sharp rebuke, handing over the secret letter written by the Princess to Lord Gai for him to read himself.

“You think she’s just a child? Does a twelve-year-old truly know nothing? What is this?” He pointed at the writing in the center of the silk scroll and berated him. “‘The Emperor is a woman. Mother returning to the province is perilous. Inform my grandfather to come quickly and save me.’… Weren’t you ordered to guard the Princess? If so, how could such a handwritten letter have escaped from your residence? Fortunately, it was intercepted by me. If it had fallen into Lord Gai’s hands, Shangguan Zhao, even death ten thousand times wouldn’t absolve you.”

The Chancellor’s face was as cold as frost. If the Young Emperor hadn’t objected, he would have killed this wretch on the spot. Stupid, immature, and sentimental—such a person remaining in the palace would inevitably become a major threat in the future.

After being scolded by him, Shangguan Zhao gradually calmed down. He bent down to pick up the cloth and examined it closely. The handwriting was indeed childish, likely from a child’s hand. Holding it carefully, he scrutinized each word. But no matter the content, he couldn’t forget that Langlang had died by his own hand. He collapsed onto the ground, almost dazed, muttering, “If only the Eldest Princess didn’t have to die…”

“If the Eldest Princess didn’t die, the one who would die is the Emperor!” The Chancellor glanced at her, who was tending to her wound. Her stubbornness pained him deeply. She wasn’t the kind of girl who cried over minor injuries; since childhood, she had fought on the training grounds, enduring bruises all over her body without a sound. In the past, with no one to confide in, she had to endure silently. Now, with someone who loves her, why does she still act this way? It’s because she fears his rage—if Shangguan Zhao were to perish, she’d lose everything! Those who don’t understand her say she lacks humanity in her decisions, but only he sees her heart. Even though this so-called close friend is useless, she still tries to protect him in her own way. Unfortunately, Shangguan Zhao doesn’t appreciate it because he hasn’t truly understood her.

The Chancellor sighed deeply and gritted his teeth. “If only I could resolve you, I wouldn’t need to waste so many words. You should be grateful that His Majesty hasn’t abandoned you yet, allowing you to live and shout in this hall. Has the Attendant ever thought about why even a blood-related aunt could be cast aside, and yet you’re still alive? If she hadn’t considered childhood friendship, based solely on your strategies, you should’ve been sent to the King of Hell long ago. Do you know what ‘a general’s success costs ten thousand lives’ means? If the Eldest Princess didn’t have to die…” He suddenly found it amusing. “Wait until she returns to Shuofang, and you’ll see how naive you are. She will immediately unite various lords to rise up. By then, heroes will emerge, and chaos will engulf the land. Is this what you want to see?”

Shangguan Zhao remained defiant, trying to find excuses for his reluctance. “The Eldest Princess has no son; what use does she have for this empire?”

The Chancellor marveled at how obstinate his mind was. “Is there really someone who thinks an empire is useless? Don’t forget, the Eldest Princess is a descendant of the Yuan clan. She wants to restore legitimacy to the dynasty, and she has a just cause. You think people only covet the throne in the hall—no one covets my position as Chancellor? Being a regent minister isn’t bad either.” He smiled awkwardly at the Young Emperor, then turned serious and sternly admonished Shangguan Zhao: “Moreover, those who wield power never care about fleeting glory. The Eldest Princess came here to offer the Princess as Empress. Do you remember? If her daughter can’t become Empress, becoming Empress herself isn’t bad either. The Eldest Princess having no son doesn’t matter—Empress Dowager Liang also had no son, yet she still firmly sits on the throne. Do you know what an Empress Dowager is? An Empress Dowager can rule the court, can unite lords and ministers to depose or install monarchs. Do you understand?”

Shangguan Zhao in the hall remained dazed, repeatedly muttering, “Langlang is only twelve years old…”

“When the Emperor was twelve, she already knew to feign illness to avoid attending court, forcing me to relinquish the authority to approve red documents. Do you think twelve is still a child? The Princess carries the blood of the Yuan clan. In the Yuan clan, is there anyone who remains ignorant at twelve? Attendant, accompanying the Emperor, and you can’t even see this—it’s laughable.” He abruptly turned to Fúwēi. “Why didn’t you let him die earlier? What use is such a foolish person?”

Fúwēi’s sorrowful gaze fell on Shangguan Zhao’s face. “Because I consider him the closest person to me. The path of an emperor is lonely. Having a friend is rare—I don’t want my oversight to cost him his life.”

“But this close friend of Your Majesty is tormented by guilt. Soon, he might betray you.” He coldly appraised Shangguan Zhao. “His Majesty couldn’t bear to kill you, and I can’t defy her orders. Now it depends on the Attendant’s decision. We’ve argued enough, and the thorny issues have been resolved. From now on, if you can wholeheartedly serve the Emperor, then you live. If you can’t get over this hurdle, there’s no way out. You can commit suicide, and I’ll send your remains back to Wuling for burial—it’s the least I can do.”

In this vast world, there’s no way out for Shangguan Zhao. He stared blankly at the Young Emperor, several times opening his mouth but swallowing his words. Timidly approaching her, after a long silence, he finally asked, “How is Your Majesty’s injury? This subject… deserves death.”

Fúwēi finally exhaled. Earlier, she was angry and choked up, but now she felt a deep sorrow, almost tears. But she couldn’t cry—such events would only increase, and crying every day would leave no dignity for an emperor.

She endured and gently said, “Today’s incident is over. I won’t hold it against you. I hope you feel the same. Both you and Ziqing are my arms. The number of attendants in the court won’t change—you understand my meaning, right?”

He slowly nodded, bowed to her, and retreated without another word.

The cold hall seemed frozen. The snow had stopped, but the sky remained gray. Two candle trees burned faintly, casting a dim light on a corner of the tent. The Chancellor reached out. “Let me see how badly you’re injured.”

Fúwēi shifted slightly, moving her hand behind her back. “It’s nothing serious, just a scratch.”

But his face remained stern, unwilling to give up. Helpless, she extended her hand.

Layer upon layer of sweat towels wrapped around the wound—the bleeding had stopped, but blood had seeped through the willow-green silk. He gently uncovered it to examine, finding a long gash across the base of her fingers. Furious, he scolded her, “Do you still want your hand? A little deeper, and you wouldn’t be able to hold a brush in the future.”

She frowned. “He wanted to commit suicide. If I hadn’t intervened, he might have really died.”

“Then let him die. An attendant exists to serve the Emperor, not to indulge in sentimentality.” His tone was clearly displeased, showing great disdain for Shangguan Zhao. As he replaced her bandage with his own handkerchief, he said, “If you had listened to my advice earlier, you wouldn’t have put yourself in such a passive position today. Shangguan Zhao is not fit for significant tasks—why don’t you trust me?”

“So you want me to kill him?” She retorted, pouting. “What about your good friend Lian Zheng? Hasn’t he made plenty of mistakes? Repeatedly abandoning his post—I haven’t punished him, all because of your face!”

He raised his eyes to look at her. “Shouldn’t His Majesty reward him? He is loyal to the ruler, even selling me out. So returning to the capital multiple times isn’t a big deal.”

Fúwēi was immediately left speechless. Indeed, merits and faults offset each other—how could she blame him further?

He carefully tended to her wound, handling it as gently as possible, but she still winced. “It really hurts. I didn’t notice earlier… Blow on it for me—it won’t hurt anymore.”

So they sat together on the wooden steps, and he blew on it twice. Fúwēi couldn’t help but laugh. Without politics, the Chancellor was actually a very warm and thoughtful person!

“Does it still hurt?”

She said it didn’t. “It’s fine now.” Then, leaning against his shoulder, she sighed melancholically. “I deeply regret doing this.”

“Ordering the murder of Princess Gai?” He seemed indifferent. “Perhaps I’m used to killing people—I don’t think Your Majesty did anything wrong. If you hesitated before, seeing this handwritten letter makes self-blame even less appropriate. If you don’t kill, others will kill you. Politics isn’t child’s play. Since there’s no turning back, clear the path and make your journey smoother.”

A few nights ago, he stayed in the small chamber and mentioned the Princess’s matter to her. In the past, without her needing to act, he would have decided long ago. But now, he had to consider her feelings, letting her make decisions herself to preserve their relationship. She was learning to be a hegemon. In the past, he wouldn’t have wanted this situation, but now he was willing to support her, becoming the soil and brick beneath her feet. Whether or not he could stay with her till the end, at least he wouldn’t let others overthrow her. To put it bluntly, if destruction comes, it must be by his own hand—perhaps this was her wish too.

He turned his head and kissed her forehead. “Why did Your Majesty insist on making Shangguan Zhao act? I know Your Majesty has gathered considerable strength around you. The Imperial Guard, the Palace Guards—all under your control. If you wanted to act, you could bypass Shangguan Zhao entirely.”

Hugging one of his arms, she relaxed completely, feeling lazy and sleepy.

“What does Chancellor think?” She closed her eyes and asked. “Please analyze it for me, Chancellor.”

This Young Emperor wasn’t a reckless brute but a leader skilled in psychological warfare. How to keep someone you can’t fully control by your side? Turn them into someone like you. Rolling in the mud together, both are filthy. Even if he wants to break free, where else can he go besides you?

The Princess died in the Marquis Within the Passes’ residence; Shangguan Zhao bore undeniable responsibility. Everyone was speculating, and Lord Gai was no exception. Moreover, the Princess was indeed killed by him. Guilty, from that moment, he became an accomplice. Even if he grew wings, where could he fly?

The Chancellor slightly curled his lips. “Your Majesty protects him greatly. When he wavered, you made the choice for him. In fact, no matter how hesitant he is, there’s only one path—death. Only by aligning with you does he have a chance to survive. Am I right? Your Majesty is, after all, a young lady. Spending so much effort on childhood bonds—is it worth it?”

She hummed softly. “There must be a soft place in my heart to hold those I care about. Even if no one understands me, as long as I am true to my convictions, that’s enough.”

Her voice near his ear carried a sense of helplessness and attachment. His cheek brushed against her hair. “Is Your Majesty afraid of becoming utterly alone?”

She opened her eyes, suddenly feeling fear. “He just said I would be abandoned by everyone…”

He chuckled mockingly. “Useless kinship—losing it is no loss, nothing to be pitied.”

He was right. Calmly thinking, since she ascended the throne, only he had been by her side. For so many years, she owed him gratitude for staying, despite how he once treated her. Now things were improving—he cherished her.

She extended her arms, hugging him tightly. “You’ll never leave me, right? I’m so scared. If you’re gone too, I’ll truly be alone until death.”

He gently stroked her back. “As long as Your Majesty still needs me, I won’t leave.”

Sometimes, even with the world at your feet, the only person you can rely on is one. It’s disheartening, but perhaps this is already tremendous luck. The path of an emperor is inherently lonely—how many true friends can one have? Finding someone who helps and loves you makes her more blessed than previous emperors.

She nestled close to him, casually asking, “Have the lords already left the capital?”

He nodded. “I hosted banquets at the city gates, sending them off one by one.”

Fúwēi couldn’t help laughing. Sometimes, this man showed no grace. Hosting banquets at the city gates was practically shooing people away. He was used to being arrogant, and those lords couldn’t do anything about it. But the more so, the more cautious he needed to be, leaving no room for exploitation. If you make enemies hate you to the bone, what fate awaits you if you fall into their hands?

He shrugged, teasing her for praise: “How was that?”

She buried her face in his neck. “Good. That’s how it should be.”

He spoke softly again. “I’ve sent men to follow the Eldest Princess’s carriage—they’ll ensure no information leaks. But we must still be wary of Lord Gai.”

Anxiously, she raised her eyes. “Lord Gai has guarded Shuofang for over twenty years. His roots run deep—it’s hard to shake him.”

In this world, no official is unshakeable. The greater their power, the greater the risks—external enemies are one thing, but the real danger is overshadowing the ruler. Once the emperor decides to eliminate you, countless methods and excuses are available. Seemingly impregnable positions of power aren’t as unbreakable as they seem.

He didn’t want her to know too much, merely comforting her. “Leave it to me, Your Majesty.”

She appeared desolate, clutching his sleeve. “What kind of path have I embarked on? Killing to cover lies—Langlang’s body isn’t even cold, and we’re already plotting against her mother and grandfather.”

She always wanted to take personal control, but she wasn’t fully prepared. Girls have their weaknesses. When it came time to act decisively, she still hesitated. This was the difference between male and female emperors.

“Has Your Majesty thought about how Lord Gai will react when he finds out?” He let her cling to him, calmly describing the scenario. “He’s the leader of the northwest lords. Uniting them would be effortless. He might even ally with the Xiongnu, using the pretext of cleansing the realm to attack the capital directly. Let me calculate for Your Majesty. The capital has three million troops under the Grand Marshal. The twelve lords and kings combined have about one million troops. If it’s just an internal conflict, it’s not a threat. The fear is they might unite with neighboring states, creating a balance of power—then victory or defeat becomes uncertain. Moreover, Your Majesty’s identity is the biggest vulnerability. Whether the armies you command will be willing to fight remains unknown. Once you lose popular support, the court’s gates will open wide, leaving only you and me—a pair of fugitive lovers.”

Listening to his calm analysis, Fúwēi felt increasingly tense, her inner garments nearly soaked with cold sweat. She shivered. “We must act before Lord Gai rises…”

Seeing her dispirited state, he spoke deliberately. “Since Your Majesty ascended the throne, crises have surrounded us. It took me eight years to subdue the lords—a process you’ve never known. This crisis, to me, is nothing new. Your Majesty is young—if I hadn’t been ruthless, who knows who would be sitting on the throne now. Now that you’ve grown up, you must experience some things yourself to understand the difficulties of governance.”

She understood. A five-year-old child ascending the throne and ruling steadily until today—without his support behind the scenes, it would have been unimaginable. She was sheltered, unaware of the hardships of life. This was the first storm she faced in her political career, and it already overwhelmed her. If more setbacks followed, just imagining it filled her with dread.

She shuffled her feet, tears welling up. “I don’t want to deal with Lord Gai’s affairs anymore.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Then can I take the initiative?”

She nodded. “Do whatever you think is best. Just mentioning the Eldest Princess and the Princess gives me a headache.”

She rarely showed vulnerability, indicating that this cousin’s death had impacted her significantly. He gazed at her pensively. Standing face-to-face, her brows were almost knitted together. He reached out to smooth them. “What insurmountable matter is this, hmm? Didn’t you say the sky won’t fall? Even if it does, I’ll hold it up—it won’t crush Your Majesty.”

She felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m an inadequate student, still far from matching my teacher.”

He chuckled after hearing this. “How many years of practice do you have? You’re still far from graduation.”

She started acting spoiled. “I don’t want to graduate. Since my teacher has become one of us, why bother studying so hard?” Saying this, she tiptoed to sniff his cheek. “Teacher, did you change your perfume today? Did you specially scent yourself to see me?”

The Chancellor felt awkward, mumbling vaguely. “I always use this kind…”

“Nonsense. I remember your scent clearly.” Saying this, she reached out to lift his collar, burying her face in it.

Sometimes she acted like a child, clinging endlessly to someone she liked. He quite enjoyed this treatment—after years of solitude, meeting an equal in the vast sea of people and developing an intimate relationship was rare.

Holding her, he gently rocked her. “Should we keep Shangguan Zhao? In my opinion, it’s better to resolve everything together for safety.”

She shook her head. “Give him a little more time. Since childhood, he’s been gentle, loved by his parents and siblings. He hasn’t experienced the hardships of life like I have.”

“You plan to keep protecting him? Is it because you know he has feelings for you, so you’re reluctant to criticize him harshly?”

Perhaps even the Chancellor himself didn’t realize how much resentment and grievance filled his words. With a rival constantly lurking around his beloved, how could he feel at ease? He originally intended to use this opportunity to eliminate everyone involved, but she refused. Beyond anxious, he had no other options.

Seeing his troubled expression, Fúwēi nudged him with a smile. “Jealous again?”

He seemed disdainful, proudly raising his head and refusing to answer.

She nudged him again. “If you don’t object, I want to visit the Marquis Within the Passes’ residence tonight.”

His expression changed. “At this critical moment, visiting the Marquis Within the Passes? Your Majesty should reconsider.”

“The Princess’s death hit him hard. I must go see him.” She glanced at him again. “I’ve reconsidered. I’ll order the carriage prepared now…”

Finally, he reached out and grabbed her, seemingly conflicted, biting his lip and making a muffled sound.

Fúwēi secretly rejoiced. “What’s that sound? Are you agreeing to let me go?”

He said no, raising one hand to cover his mouth and nose, speaking in a muffled tone: “I… am jealous.”