PM - 55

The memorial accusing Lord Gai of treason, drafted in the Chancellor’s office, was completed in just two sticks of incense time. After some additions, subtractions, and polishing, by the time it reached the Chancellor’s hands, it had been meticulously prepared.

You are scheming to seize the great power in my hands, yet I still forge ahead to clear the path for you—it’s truly moving, even to myself. The Chancellor once believed he was inherently cold-hearted; apart from Lian Zheng, there were hardly any people he cared deeply about. Later, Princess Chaisang entered his life—a small girl who smiled gently at him by the lakeside in Chunsheng. He thought he would marry her because he never had high expectations for relationships. Since he had casually promised, he planned accordingly. But in the end, he didn’t even know when she passed away. About half a year later, during one of Prince Jiaodong’s visits to the capital, he mentioned Princess Changsha offhandedly, and only then did the Chancellor suddenly remember… Look, this is how heartless he was.

However, meeting the young emperor was a destined calamity. As she said, she knew all the bad things he had done, and he remembered every unflattering detail about her. The late emperor was the biggest winner, revealing her origins on his deathbed, thus appointing the Chancellor as her guardian. Whether she wet her pants or was afraid of ghosts at night, she always sought out her “father-the-Chancellor.” He busied himself with her affairs around the clock while also dealing with her unpredictable summons, leaving no time to resolve his own lifelong matters. Reflecting on it now, perhaps her relentless efforts to burden him were premeditated. If he hadn’t been busy, today’s her wouldn’t have existed! His submission was initially due to her persistence, but unexpectedly, this compromising love became extraordinarily passionate, and now he couldn’t let go.

This heartless and ungrateful child, when she likes you, she calls you affectionately; when she doesn’t, she takes your power and finds ways to sideline you. If only he had remained resolute in the beginning, today he could confront her without batting an eye. Now? What to do? Even if he wanted to teach her a lesson, he would have to tread lightly for fear of hurting her—she might hide away and cry secretly.

Self-inflicted woes—he deserved it! He felt a bit angry, though not too much. After a few days of calm reflection, he gradually managed to quell his anger. Consider it childish tantrums—annoying for a moment, but it would pass. After all, the charm of life lies in experiencing one twist after another, regardless of who caused them. Avoiding each other gave them time to adapt. They feared that meeting would lead to arguments, which wouldn’t be good for either of them.

Strangely, his temper had become so mild that even he didn’t expect it. However, his conciliatory approach was inward, not outward. When suppressing dissent, the Chancellor still displayed his usual flair.

The matter of the Princess of Changsha was resolved. Upon receiving the news, he picked up the memorial from the office and went to the private chambers to meet the young emperor. Coincidentally, the Grand Tutor and several trusted ministers were present. He presented the memorial and clearly reported the evidence of Lord Gai’s rebellion in front of everyone.

The Grand Tutor and others couldn’t discern the situation and reacted strongly to the Chancellor’s move. “Lord Gai guards the northern frontier for peace. Is the Chancellor, comfortably nestled in the capital, using his energy to suppress loyal ministers?”

The Chancellor didn’t resort to harsh words but merely glanced sideways, his flirtatious gaze fully expressing his disdain for them.

“If Lord Gai is a loyal minister, then I am a treacherous one, known to all. I don’t care about being condemned by thousands; I only wish for our sovereign’s eternal stability. In this regard, I am more loyal than all of you.” He chuckled lazily. “Lord Gai’s rebellious intentions have long been evident. The straight road connecting Shang Commandery to the north is the best proof. You mustn’t dismiss my words as nonsense simply because I’m seen as a villain. After all, I act for the court and for His Majesty. Know that an army of eight hundred thousand can reach the capital within a month via that road. If that day comes, your eloquent tongues alone won’t save the common people.”

The Chancellor’s debating skills were unmatched, except perhaps when facing Fu Wei, where he showed some vulnerability. The person above remained silent while the Grand Tutor and others were left speechless, unable to respond. He bowed slightly again. “I have urgent matters to report to His Majesty. It would be inappropriate for others to listen. Please wait outside.”

The Chancellor’s arrogance was evident, and the ministers wore expressions of having more to say. However, the young emperor spoke, calmly saying, “I need to carefully weigh your reports. Since the Chancellor wishes to have a private audience, all of you may withdraw for now.”

With no choice, they bowed and exited the private chambers.

The young emperor’s tone was peaceful as she addressed the Chancellor. “I’ve newly built a greenhouse. It’s warm inside. Follow me there to discuss.” With that, she rose, left the tent, held her head high, folded her arms behind her back, and walked out of the hall.

Going to the greenhouse carried a certain lingering allure. She walked ahead, her jade accessories tinkling at her waist. Passing through the long indoor corridor, she pointed forward. “It’s there.”

The Chancellor raised his eyes. The greenhouse was at the deepest part of the corridor, secluded and easy to defend. The huge wooden door was tightly closed, built exceptionally thick for insulation. She quietly turned her head and whispered, “I’ve already tested the soundproofing. It’s excellent.” The Chancellor’s heart skipped a beat, and he respectfully bowed and replied affirmatively.

Coating the walls with mud made from Sichuan pepper provided excellent insulation. Hanging embroidered tapestries and setting up thick curtains, this greenhouse was a place fit for dreams.

The young emperor entered first, waving her sleeves after stepping inside. “Father-the-Chancellor, make yourself comfortable.”

“Yes,” the Chancellor bowed, removed his shoes, and stepped onto the soft felt carpet. Passing through the curtains, he saw the young emperor sitting upright and knelt down at the lower seat.

Being alone together created an awkward atmosphere. Finally, Fu Wei broke the silence. “Father-the-Chancellor, you said you had something to report earlier. What is it?”

The Chancellor replied, “I received a report that the Princess of Changsha’s procession entered the territory of Prince Jing. Fifteen miles north of Fu City, the red carriage she was riding in broke its axle and overturned into a canal. Only the Princess and her governess perished; the rest of the accompanying guards were unharmed.”

Resolved. Fu Wei sat motionlessly, unsure whether to feel sorrow or joy.

After all, she was her aunt—a life nonetheless. The most helpless thing was the mutual slaughter among close relatives, unwilling yet inevitable.

She lowered her head and sighed, speaking after a long pause. “Father-the-Chancellor, you’ve worked hard. This matter was handled well, discreetly, avoiding public censure. The news of the Princess’s death will take a few more days to reach the capital. Your memorial today was perfectly timed. We can spread the word that the Princess committed suicide out of fear after the conspiracy between Lord Gai and the Xiongnu was exposed. This way, we can at least make it plausible.”

The light from the goose-foot lamp illuminated her face as she spoke, her eyes reddening.

She wasn’t heartless; everything was for self-preservation. The Chancellor watched her silently, waiting until she wiped her tears before speaking. “Your Majesty need not reproach yourself. Such incidents will only increase in the future. The affairs of the imperial family are inherently complex, with no distinction between women and men. Why can you handle Prince Jing without hesitation, yet show such compassion towards Princess Dingyang?”

“I feel more pity for women,” Fu Wei lifted her head to look at him. “Did Father-the-Chancellor ever receive care from Princess Dingyang when you were young?”

The Chancellor thought for a moment and said no. “Princess Dingyang was Emperor Wen’s eldest daughter, very spoiled. Someone of my background was never looked upon favorably by her.”

Indeed, he heard the Princess call him a wretch, daring to insult the Chancellor in front of the emperor. Who knows what she was like otherwise. Thus, the Princess paid the price for her sharp tongue, ultimately dying by his hand. The unpredictability of fate, the adage not to belittle the poor youth, was precisely this truth.

The Chancellor said, “The Princess was Your Majesty’s aunt. Did Your Majesty ever receive her care?”

Fu Wei shook her head. “The Princess has been married to Lord Gai for twenty years, residing far in the north with him. I never met her; this was the first time.”

“Then it’s settled,” the Chancellor coolly said. “Completely unrelated relatives are no different from strangers. Should you let your guard down against foreseeable danger just because she was your aunt?”

He was right. She slowly nodded. “My cultivation is indeed insufficient. Becoming an iron-blooded emperor isn’t easy. I understand.”

The Chancellor fell silent, lowering his head to pour himself a cup of tea. The air always carried a faint scent of Sichuan pepper, which, when warmed by the stove, seeped into one’s skin. Discussing their common enemy could unite them in enmity, but once the topic ended, they faced prolonged silence, even the warm environment and atmosphere couldn’t save them.

“You...” Fu Wei bit her lip, hesitating. “Do you have nothing to say to me?”

Under the lamplight, the Chancellor’s features were solemn as he turned his face and slowly shook his head.

How could he have nothing to say? Was it that there was nothing left to talk about? At the very least, he should question her on why she dismissed Liu Shang. Since he didn’t bring it up, she decided to start. She stammered, “You should inform those who follow you to rein themselves in and not act recklessly.”

He finally looked over, his brows slightly furrowed. “Everyone has their own thoughts; not everything is done under my instruction. Your Majesty should understand. Among the masses, self-interest is paramount. The people around me are not necessarily all bad, just as those around Your Majesty are not necessarily all good. Circumstances make heroes, and different stances lead to different choices, all ultimately driven by personal gain. Unless they all become saints, I alone cannot control them.”

Fu Wei discerned the evasion in his words and immediately understood why his retainers and strategists were so brazen—it was because of his tacit approval backing them. Irritated, she demanded, “Without your silent consent, would they dare to withhold petitions from officials or kill to silence witnesses?”

He remained unmoved. “These are merely the accusations from the officers of the three departments. Your Majesty already has your decision; there’s no need for me to say more.”

Her face flushed with anger. This was his stubborn resistance, a predictable clash between them.

She sneered. “I know how powerful you are. You were well aware of everything happening within the Ministry of Light and Honor. Since that’s the case, let’s be open. After the winter solstice, I will personally take charge of governance. Please return political power to me, Father-the-Chancellor.”

The Chancellor replied, “Your Majesty is not yet sixteen. We can discuss this again after the New Year.”

It was utterly exasperating! She straightened herself from the armrest. “What do you think I brought you to the greenhouse for?”

“Isn’t it to talk about love with me?”

Fu Wei was momentarily at a loss for words. “Yes, but... the most important thing is to discuss returning political power to me. You’ve controlled the Great Yin dynasty for over a decade. Surely, it’s time to return the six imperial seals to me.”

The regent holding the six imperial seals was one reason Fu Wei still feared him. The emperor had his own seal bearers, and those six lacquered boxes sat in the Eastern Palace, but without the Chancellor’s approval, the emperor’s edicts couldn’t use the seals. Thus, she could only handle minor matters in court, while major decisions still required his consultation.

The Chancellor reacted indifferently, holding his cup and sipping. “This year’s tribute tea isn’t good. It’s pre-rain tea, the flavor is too light.”

She gritted her teeth at him. “I’m asking for the six seals, and you’re talking about tea?”

He shifted his gaze. “Is this how you ask for things? Is this how you used to speak to me?” Though it was unbecoming to mention past bravery, when feeling at a disadvantage, one could still bring it up to save face.

Fu Wei, however, had no way to deal with him. Asking him to hand over the seals was akin to stripping him of his power. He was far too astute to agree easily.

“Father-the-Chancellor, don’t push me. We’re relatives. Having you limp out of the greenhouse wouldn’t look good.”

The Chancellor hummed. “What does Your Majesty intend to do with me?” When negotiations failed, resorting to threats was her trump card. Her words sounded almost thuggish, though the Chancellor didn’t say it aloud, he was inwardly quite intrigued.

If she was strong, he needed to suppress her with even greater strength. This was their unconventional way of interacting. Ordinary couples, once committed, were likely consumed by affection. Not them. They needed endless battles, perhaps only truly ceasing at death.

Expecting her to prepare for an aggressive move, she instead showed no sign. Sitting cross-legged there, propping her face, her gaze circled around his face once before returning to ponder her plan to seize power.

Since neither wanted to back down, he smirked disdainfully, leaning against the jade armrest, continuing to taste his tea.

Unable to hold back any longer, she finally spoke. “Father-the-Chancellor, until when do you intend to manipulate me like this?”

He tilted his neck, the black cloud patterns embroidered on his crimson collar accentuating the purity of his skin. He scoffed lightly. “Your Majesty is in such a hurry. After reclaiming the six seals, what will you do with me?”

They locked eyes, neither willing to yield, glaring until their eyes ached, unable to determine a victor.

“The six seals belong to me!”

“For now, they’re under my custody.”

“I don’t need you to guard them; I can handle them myself.”

“I was entrusted by the late emperor; I dare not disobey.”

“The late emperor has been dead for over a decade. He could order you to govern during his lifetime, but how can he demand you relinquish power after death? Without his explicit command, will you not return the six seals to me?”

He thought carefully. “In theory, yes.”

Fu Wei’s fury erupted. “How shameless can you be?”

He looked at her in surprise. “What did you say?”

“I said you’re shameless!” Taking advantage of the greenhouse’s soundproofing, she vented all her pent-up frustration.

Unaccustomed to such defiance, the Chancellor became enraged, gritting his teeth. “Fine, let me show you what true shamelessness is!” With that, he grabbed her robe and tore it forcefully. No matter how exquisite the emperor’s attire, it couldn’t withstand such rough treatment. Without much effort, her chest was exposed.

She screamed, “Yan Xiangru, don’t push me too far!”

“It’s Your Majesty who is pushing me. I’m merely reciprocating.” He smiled smugly. “Don’t you want an heir? Give me the six seals, and I’ll give you a son. How’s that?”

What kind of exchange was this? Using this matter as a trade-off! This person never made a losing deal! Fu Wei blushed as she scolded him. “Don’t dare to act rashly. If you don’t stop, I’ll call for help!”

He chuckled. “Didn’t Your Majesty say this greenhouse is soundproof? Even if you scream your lungs out, no one will hear.” As he spoke, he pulled her inner garment open. Unaware of the cold weather, she hadn’t bound her chest, relying on thick clothing. After some struggle, her delicate figure came into view, stunning him. Initially a joke, it had escalated beyond his expectations.

The Chancellor’s knowledge in this area was limited, and the sudden sight hit him like poison, sending him into a feverish state.

Thousands of windmills spun in his mind, their whirring nearly deafening. He couldn’t look away, despite himself. She was so young, subtly budding, fresh and adorable. Usually clad in formal robes, it was hard to associate her with a woman’s graceful figure. But now he saw her lithe curves—not just there, but also her delicate collarbone, slightly protruding like the wings of a bird. He was dumbfounded, his gaze lingering, unable to tear away. In a moment of passion, he pressed his lips to hers.

Fu Wei gasped softly, exhausted after a bout of struggling. In terms of physical strength, she was no match for him. Utterly defeated, passivity naturally brought shyness, partly due to embarrassment, but mostly worry about his perception. So she carefully observed his expression, finding admiration in his shock.

He kissed her shoulder, rustling sounds accompanying the clinking of his jade belt buckle hitting the edge of the dining table—a heavy, unsettling noise. His breathing amplified in her ear, his loss of control contagious. Thankfully, he remained gentle and restrained, pausing every inch he moved downward to seek her consent with a glance. Fu Wei felt she couldn’t open her eyes anymore. Like this, till the end of time would be fine.

Enveloped in warmth, she tensed herself like a harp; when he plucked, she sang. Some things came naturally, she was clever, and he wasn’t dull either. In practical operation, he might even surpass her.

Building this greenhouse was actually for this purpose, she mused hazily. He said he’d exchange the six seals for a son, which was somewhat insulting, but being magnanimous, she didn’t strongly object. She stroked his cheek, his earlobe, never feeling him so close. Conceiving an heir at fifteen, she’d give birth by September next year. Their son—what kind of wild child would he be? Certainly fierce and extraordinary.

The Chancellor was fair-skinned, and when excited, his complexion flushed red, reminding her of the phrase “as radiant as peach blossoms.” His eyes were vast oceans, turbulent with waves. Meeting her gaze, she found no lifeline. He removed his outer robe, wearing only his inner garment, tenderly kissing the tip of her nose. “Have you decided?”

Fu Wei enjoyed this warm sensation, indulging while her mind never stopped working. Even if momentarily distracted, she quickly regained composure.

A child was essential, and she would certainly have it with him. But was it appropriate now? If she were heavily pregnant, even with the six seals in hand, what use would they be? She knew he was scheming; if pregnant, she’d show by four or five months, and the newly established regime would collapse with her absence. Her path to true governance was still long.

Her expression gradually cooled, and he sighed, understanding. He wouldn’t press her, rolling aside.

Silently, she sat up and adjusted her clothes, still smiling smoothly. “Well, today isn’t an auspicious day. Let me check the almanac first.” Twisting to look at him, she teased, “You’re not angry, are you?”

He said no, clumsily putting on his robe. “I’m used to it anyway.”

Used to holding back? It sounded pitiful. Seizing the moment, she reached out and touched him, grinning mischievously under his glare. “If you say so, I can help you.”

Blushing, he slapped her hand away. “Someone who backs out at the last moment has no right to say such things.”

Fu Wei was somewhat troubled. No matter how deep her feelings, her defenses never ceased. Yet she couldn’t bear a falling out, swallowing her grievance silently, fearing he might walk away, never loving her again. She forced a smile. “I’m sparing you embarrassment, giving you more time to prepare.” As she spoke, she entangled him, pulling him to sit, leaning against him. Her hand accidentally—or perhaps not—reached where it shouldn’t.

He frowned, moving her hand several times, but she kept coming back, impossible to deter. Helpless, he stared at the ceiling, thinking gloomily that today was inescapable—he would die in her hands.