PM - 58

The emperor’s wrath was indeed difficult to bear. Lingjun watched the jade pendant shatter into pieces, fragments scattering everywhere—onto the feet of the warming stove and across the carpet before him. He bent down to pick up a shard, clicking his tongue. “What a pity for this fine jade. When an emperor is enraged, even withering trees are uprooted. Don’t tear down my Changqiu Palace—it’s the only place I have to call home.”

She ignored his rambling, sitting on the cushion and sulking silently. Lingjun kicked away the armrest and sat down opposite her.

“Is Your Majesty furious?”

She hated when people asked obvious questions, so she responded with irritation. “Did you figure that out?”

Lingjun sighed. “Since Your Majesty has chosen the Chancellor, you should trust him. He is the linchpin of the state, mediating tirelessly before Your Majesty took the reins of power, weaving together this era of peace. He’s busy—meeting you one day, others the next. You’ve only just started paying attention to him, but you don’t know how exhausting it’s been for him in the past. What ‘romantic interests’? The Chancellor isn’t the type to be swayed by fleeting attractions. Otherwise, given his status, how many concubines could he have taken? Why would he resort to such elaborate schemes?”

He wasn’t wrong. But how could ordinary beauties compare to an old acquaintance? Resting her chin on her hand, she pondered. “I just want to know—how many skeletons does he have in his closet? Why did he dash off after someone’s carriage like a triggered mechanism?” Her voice gradually lowered as she grumbled under her breath, “Running off with someone—clearly, he’s not pure-hearted!”

Lingjun smiled faintly. “Who says the acquaintance is a woman? What if it’s a man?”

“Would any man ride in an oil-painted carriage?”

Carriages came in many types: the Empress Dowager used purple felt, the Princess Dowager red felt, and princesses or titled ladies used oil-painted ones. Everyone strictly adhered to these hierarchical distinctions, and no one dared overstep. As she thought this through, her words seemed to dawn on her, and she stared blankly at Lingjun. His eyebrows slowly arched upward, and he said nothing, merely smiling at her.

She abruptly stood, her heart racing. There were so many princesses and county mistresses within the imperial clan. If it wasn’t Yuan Huan, couldn’t it be someone else? Now, with the political climate shifting and the recent scandal involving Lord Gai, the nobles were all on edge, unsure whether power would ultimately rest with the emperor or remain in the Chancellor’s hands. Sending a noblewoman to form a marital alliance—if the Chancellor fell later, sacrificing a daughter wouldn’t matter much. For now, he was valuable enough to be courted, and future plans could be made once he was secured. Thus, today’s “old acquaintance” appeared.

It seemed the Chancellor wasn’t simple—he navigated both court and private households with ease. How shameless!

Seeing her anxiety, Lingjun poured her a cup of wine. “All of this is mere speculation, Your Majesty. Please calm yourself. That said, the Chancellor is nearly twenty-nine. Do you truly believe his romantic history is as blank as paper? At twenty-nine...” He lowered his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “At fourteen, I already knew how to admire Your Majesty. Surely, the Chancellor had his youthful indiscretions too. Everyone has a past. But once feelings find their home, one shouldn’t waver indecisively—it’s simply unkind.”

His seemingly gentle words only added insult to injury for Fu Wei. Rivals often seized opportunities to wound with veiled insults. As an emperor, openly displaying jealousy was undignified.

She felt disheartened and took a sip of wine. “Do you think the loves of youth are truly so unforgettable?”

Lingjun nodded. “I can’t speak for others, but for me, they are unforgettable—I’ll remember them until the day I die.”

He gazed at her, his eyes filled with longing. Unable to meet his gaze, Fu Wei fixed her attention on the wine cup in her hand.

“I lost my temper earlier—forgive me, Your Majesty.”

Lingjun appeared magnanimous. “Isn’t enduring grievances part of being an empress? With the emperor’s harem of three palaces and six courtyards, the empress cannot afford to be jealous—it would tarnish her image. In my position, I must fulfill my duties. If Your Majesty encounters such matters again, feel free to discuss them with me. Though I may not help in other ways, offering some solace is within my means.”

But his attempts to console only deepened her sorrow. Dissatisfied, she grew restless. Setting down the wine cup, she said, “I’ve disturbed you long enough. Continue your reading—I’ll take my leave.” Exiting the steps, the eunuchs accompanying her formed a procession with palace lanterns. After walking a short distance, she glanced back. Lingjun still stood at the door, his solitary figure exuding a sense of desolation.

How had she reduced a young man to this? Though she had forewarned him about the loneliness of palace life and the difficulty of enduring three years, what if he didn’t survive beyond that? She began to truly feel the cruelty of her actions. It seemed all her affection was lavished on the Chancellor, while Lingjun and Azhao were treated so coldly. And now, this ungrateful Chancellor dared to consort with others. Unable to vent her frustration, she whirled around and strode decisively out of Changqiu Gate.

Returning to Luqin Palace, she pored over documents for hours. Suddenly remembering, she ordered someone to investigate the Chancellor’s residence that night to see if he had returned. The eunuch Jianye dispatched returned swiftly, reporting that the Chancellor was in the military headquarters, discussing affairs with his strategists and had not yet returned to his residence. She breathed a sigh of relief—he hadn’t spent the night elsewhere—but her mind remained restless, sensing something ominous on the horizon.

Ah, emotions truly consumed one’s thoughts. Tossing and turning all night, she prepared for the winter solstice ritual the next day. Sitting in Chengtian Hall, she still felt dizzy, and the reports from several ministers seemed distant, as if separated by a mountain.

The Grand Tutor remained until last, waiting for everyone to disperse before reporting the obstacles Wei Shixing faced during his investigation.

“All evidence points to the Yan family of Jingchu. But wherever we investigate, the trail goes cold. Who possesses such skill? I needn’t say—the answer is clear to Your Majesty. The Chancellor protecting the Yan family is understandable, but continuing this way will hinder the pursuit of Prince Jing, leading to greater losses. Is this wise? Permit me to speak bluntly, though Your Majesty may not wish to hear it: personal feelings compared to national affairs are like grains of sand to the vast ocean. Even if Your Majesty is reluctant to part with the Chancellor, there cannot be two rulers of the realm. Either the Chancellor relinquishes power, or Your Majesty delegates authority—one must choose.”

The Grand Tutor, being her teacher, spared no quarter in his critique despite years of guidance. Folding his arms, his face flushed with indignation. “Has Your Majesty heard the rumors spreading among officials—that you and the Chancellor are involved, sharing quarters and beds, gravely tarnishing the dignity of the throne? Since the founding of the Yin dynasty, such scandals have never occurred. The rumors are rampant—how will Your Majesty preserve your reputation? You and the Chancellor are uncle and niece. Though he isn’t of the Yuan lineage, he was raised by Emperor Wen, making him indisputably of the older generation. Even if Your Majesty favors male companionship, why involve yourself with him?”

Fu Wei blushed furiously, unable to defend herself. She resorted to denial. “Who spread these lies? I’ll have their skin flayed! The Chancellor and I are completely innocent. Yes, we often discuss matters privately to avoid prying eyes, but how did that become a scandal of us being romantically involved?”

The Grand Tutor lamented deeply. “I naturally believe in Your Majesty’s integrity, but my efforts alone cannot silence the masses. Where will Your Majesty turn to address this? Everyone is talking—can you execute them all? Your Majesty, your marriage to the empress was just over a month ago, and no one questioned your affection for her. But now, entangled with the Chancellor... it’s utterly disgraceful.”

She was momentarily speechless, feeling that she had been cautious. How had things spiraled so out of control? She now felt overwhelmed. Such rumors about the emperor would not aid her political career but rather cause significant harm. If someone were to exploit this situation, it could deal a devastating blow, catching her off guard.

She massaged her temples. “Teacher, do you have any solutions to resolve this?”

The Grand Tutor replied, “The Chancellor remains unmarried. Why doesn’t Your Majesty arrange a marriage for him?”

Fu Wei’s eyes shot up in alarm. “Arrange a marriage? Is the Chancellor the kind of person who would accept an arranged marriage? Moreover, he once had someone he loved dearly. After she passed away, he remained single until now.” She forced a smile. “Teacher’s suggestion is truly forcing matters. Issuing a decree is easy—it’s just a verbal command—but if the Chancellor refuses to comply, wouldn’t I lose face?”

The Grand Tutor also found this troubling. Changing tack, he suggested, “Unless we send the Chancellor on an inspection tour of the borderlands for three to five years. Once this matter has settled, his return would no longer be an issue.”

Three to five years? Waiting that long was unbearable for her. She touched her nose. “If it were so easy to send him away now, he wouldn’t be the Chancellor anymore. Does Teacher think this is possible?”

The Grand Tutor had nothing to say, knowing it was impossible—a pipe dream. If it were so simple to dispatch him, how could he have wielded such power over the court for decades?

Her mind was in turmoil. Waving her hand dismissively, she said, “Teacher, don’t worry. These are merely malicious rumors fabricated by those with ill intent, aiming to undermine the Chancellor.”

“And what does Your Majesty intend to do? Should the Chancellor remain?”

Her expression gradually hardened. Not keeping him meant killing him—something she could have done ruthlessly before. But now, given their current entanglement, killing him would cost her half her life.

She shook her head. “He cannot be killed for now. Without the Chancellor, the political order would collapse. Teacher knows this principle better than I do.”

Caught between a rock and a hard place, the Grand Tutor sighed in frustration and left Chengtian Hall disheartened.

Fu Wei sat silently, tapping the wooden fish for a long while. No one came after that. She asked Jianye, “Is the Chancellor in his office?”

Jianye bowed his head. “Today is the Chancellor’s rest day, Your Majesty. Have you forgotten?”

She suddenly remembered and let out a melancholic “Oh.” The Three Dukes and Nine Ministers were preparing for the upcoming abstinence period, so naturally, he wasn’t around. Silently, she continued tapping the wooden fish, each strike precise. But her heart was restless. She wanted to see him, ask him directly, and clear up her doubts—only then could the storm pass.

Finally, she stood up. “Prepare the carriage—I’m going to the Chancellor’s residence.”

Jianye acknowledged and quickly went to make arrangements. Emerging from the hall, the winter sunlight was pale and weak. The biting wind cut through to the bone, impossible to block. Shangguan Zhao stood guard under the corridor, his face blue from the cold. Seeing this, she touched his hand. “Why stand in the wind? You can go inside the guardhouse.”

He smiled faintly. “Is Your Majesty leaving the palace?”

She nodded. “I’m going to the Chancellor’s residence... No matter how ugly the rumors are, I must go.”

He didn’t dissuade her but turned to assemble the imperial guards to accompany her. Descending the black stone steps, she entered the carriage. Though the Chancellor’s residence wasn’t far from the palace, the journey felt agonizingly slow. But the closer she got, the clearer her mind became. As they approached the alleyway, she tapped the wooden panel and ordered the carriage to stop. Shangguan Zhao heard the command through the window. Sitting in the dim carriage, she coolly instructed, “Send someone ahead to check if the Chancellor is at home.”

Once again, they found him absent. He was busy, reportedly having left early in the morning. She sneered upon hearing this. “He has a retreat. He’s probably there.”

Ordering Shangguan Zhao to send the entourage back, she took the reins, mounted her horse, and fiercely lashed the whip, galloping toward the city gates.

Whatever had captured his soul, she was determined to find out! Riding against the cold wind, her black robe billowed like a war banner. “Chunshengye”—what a poetic name. Deep down, the Chancellor was still a man of poetry and romance. Otherwise, why would he build his secluded retreat here? Looking at the red maples and green waters, it was indeed a perfect place for secret rendezvous!

Shangguan Zhao chased after her anxiously. Fortunately, she slowed down after ascending the hill. This was the highest point of Chunshengye. From here, the entire lake and maple forest could be seen. She remained silent, and he quietly accompanied her. Suddenly, she furrowed her brows. Following her gaze, he saw two figures walking along the lakeside—one dressed in solemn black robes, the other draped in flowing skirts. Though they maintained a distance of about three feet, their demeanor and movements suggested a heartfelt reunion after a long separation.

She sneered. “Zhaoge, the Chancellor has someone outside.”

Shangguan Zhao hesitated, unsure how to console her. “Perhaps not as Your Majesty imagines. They’re just walking by the lake—no hugging or holding...” Before he finished, he saw the woman lean in, and their silhouettes overlapped as if embracing.

Shangguan Zhao was speechless. Fu Wei felt her heart freeze. Wasn’t the Chancellor notorious? How dare someone take liberties with him? It must be an old flame; otherwise, things wouldn’t progress so quickly. The fierce wind on the hilltop cut her face like a knife. She wanted to cry but held back. Raising her whip, she pointed at them. “They should let go. Look how much the Chancellor enjoys this tenderness! After returning to the palace, find this woman for me and send her to the punishment chamber to dye cloth. Those beautiful delicate hands... Let’s see if they can withstand the torment of those dyes.”

She was furious but hadn’t immediately confronted them, likely out of consideration for the Chancellor’s feelings. For some reason, her love always seemed somewhat humble. She feared that tearing the façade would lead him to abandon her—after all, their love was something she had pursued, not something he had genuinely desired.

Shangguan Zhao, however, thought she was being too impulsive. “It’s best to confront the Chancellor directly. Avoid misunderstandings.”

She retorted angrily, “As emperor, disposing of a woman is hardly difficult.”

“Does Your Majesty not fear offending the Chancellor? Killing someone insignificant might not matter. But if this person has ties to him, rash actions would harm your relationship.”

She began sobbing loudly in the wind. “What should I do? I’m so angry I could die!”

Shangguan Zhao looked at her helplessly. “I’ve never encountered such a situation either. But I believe there’s room for reconciliation—it’s not as if they were caught in bed...”

She turned to him, her red-rimmed eyes suddenly making his heart ache. She was utterly wronged—more so than during her struggles to rule. Clenching her teeth, she trembled violently on her horse. “If they were caught in bed, I’d have killed them both on the spot. Would I let them live to humiliate me?”

She was still so young. Despite her impressive imperial demeanor when governing, she was still childlike when it came to matters of the heart. He could only comfort her. “Fortunately, the Chancellor pushed her away. Calm down. It’s too cold here. Once we return to the palace, summon the Chancellor, clarify the truth, then you can vent your anger.”

“I’ll break up this pair of wild lovers!” Her whip whistled through the air. “How dare they deceive me like this!”

There was nothing more infuriating than betrayal. Understanding her, he saw her venting her frustrations to him, indicating the situation wasn’t dire. If she had stormed off without a word, that would have been the worst scenario—not only would the woman suffer, but the Chancellor would be in trouble too.

He persuaded her repeatedly, finally convincing her to return to the palace. Ignoring all state affairs, she sat alone in her tent for half a day. Just before dusk, Jianye announced the Chancellor’s request for an audience.

She hastily opened a scroll and spread it before her. He tactfully excused himself, and behind him came the command, “Let him in.”

The Chancellor entered, still clad in his solemn black robes. Bowing, he handed over a scroll via Jianye and began, “With the unrest among the feudal lords and Lord Gai’s recent scandal, others may grow restless. There’s no need to worry about the outer regions—the Grand Marshal has mobilized troops. Any sign of rebellion will be swiftly quelled. Here’s the deployment of forces around the capital—infantry, cavalry, and rapid response units have all been mobilized. Please review, Your Majesty.”

Her eyes scanned the text, though her mind was elsewhere. After a long pause, she finally said, “Good. The tiger tally has been dispatched—it will soon reach the northern frontiers. Order the Grand Marshal to station Li Jidao at the border between Shuofang and Jing. I foresee an inevitable storm of bloodshed.”

The Chancellor acknowledged. He then discussed the current military system eloquently, seemingly without a trace of guilt. She remained patient, listening carefully. None of these matters were urgent—she simply wanted him to explain the situation himself. But as he avoided the topic, she grew increasingly impatient.

“Besides these matters, does Father-Chancellor have anything else to say?” She smiled faintly, glancing outside. “It’s getting late. We can continue discussing state affairs tomorrow.”

He fell silent, pausing before replying, “Indeed, there’s something unrelated I wish to report.”

Her heart raced. Straightening her posture, she feigned calmness. “What is this unrelated matter? Father-Chancellor, speak freely.” With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the eunuchs standing in the hall.

But he said, “There’s nothing to hide. Does Your Majesty remember? Over a decade ago, I had a betrothal agreement with Princess Chaisang?”

Suspicion clouded her face. “Father-Chancellor refers to that jest? I’ve heard of it, but the princess is dead. Why bring it up now?”

He lowered his eyes, his expression unreadable. “I also believed she had long passed. Unexpectedly, yesterday someone delivered a message saying she’s alive. These past two days, I’ve been preoccupied with this matter, finding it increasingly tangled and suspicious, causing some neglect in official duties. I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”

Fu Wei was already reeling from his words. Could it be true, as Lingjun had suggested, that she had returned from the dead? Such an absurdity existed in this world?

She couldn’t help but sneer. “The Changsha royal line has long been extinguished. Back then, all male descendants were executed for rebellion, and the young female heirs either died or disappeared. The records in the Ministry of Imperial Clan Affairs are clear. How could she be alive now, claiming the title of princess? Such audacity! Father-Chancellor, please discern clearly and don’t be deceived by chaos. What engagement? Without matchmakers or betrothal gifts, can it even be called an engagement? Offering sympathy and assistance is acceptable, but exceeding that is not. Father-Chancellor understands what I mean, doesn’t he?”

He looked up, his eyes calm and unruffled. “Please rest assured, Your Majesty. I will investigate thoroughly. However, this matter may involve complications. I ask Your Majesty to be patient for now.”

She took several deep breaths, cursing Yuan Huan in her heart. To throw herself into a man’s arms at every opportunity—wasn’t she asking for punishment? Remembering the scene she had witnessed earlier, she felt even more repulsed. Finally, dismissing everyone, she emerged from behind the imperial desk, grabbed his hand, and bit down hard.