PM - 60

If she had said these words while sober, he might have been deeply flattered or moved to tears. But now, drunk and disoriented, she was on the verge of losing her sense of place. If he took advantage of her vulnerability, how would they face each other once the alcohol wore off tomorrow?

It was precisely because she loved the Prime Minister so much that she was acting out today. If she didn’t care about him, how could she lose control like this? He understood her—she had gone to great lengths to armor herself against emotional wounds, but ultimately, she was still too young. She felt lost about the future. The Prime Minister was the only person she could rely on. If they were in love, she would have a solid support system; if he drifted away, for the young emperor, losing him would mean not just the loss of a lover but also half her kingdom.

Fu Wei was utterly intoxicated, her usual impressive tolerance no match for her deep sorrow. She clung to him, but he couldn’t allow himself to be swept along. “Men may speak grandly, but deep down, they still care whether the woman they love remains faithful. I can’t leave you without an escape route.” He gently stroked her face. “I’m just a soldier, capable only of serving you with my life, not of protecting you fully in court. Your only option now is to wait. Does Your Majesty understand what I’m saying?”

Discussing the larger political situation with a drunk person was clearly unwise. She laughed foolishly, “No.” Then, using both hands and feet, she dragged him onto the bed.

He was still wearing his armor, making it uncomfortable to curl up. However, once she saw him lying down, she stopped fussing, burying her face in the blankets and beginning to sob uncontrollably. She had once vowed never to shed another tear, but now she realized that was only because she hadn’t yet reached the depths of despair. The Prime Minister held all the power and ignored her. She felt that all her hard work had been for nothing, and it seemed utterly futile.

Crying helped ease the pain—tears washed away the dust from the heart. She sobbed for a long time, crying until she was exhausted. Rolling over, she found Azhao still there and stared at him with wide eyes. “You still haven’t made a move? Do you really not want me?”

He brushed her hair away from her face, smiling bitterly. “I can’t accept you. Your Majesty needs someone who is your equal, someone who can strategize for you and build a lasting legacy. I’ll remain your attendant—I can serve tea and water, but I cannot share your bed. It’s all for your own good.”

She still stared blankly. He covered her with a blanket and retreated from the inner chambers.

Hulü Puzhao was waiting at the foot of the steps. Seeing him emerge, he approached and asked, “What exactly is wrong with His Majesty?”

Shangguan Zhao glanced back. The dim yellow light filtered through the doorframe, but thankfully, the hall had grown quiet. He shrugged helplessly. “She’s troubled by political matters. The Prime Minister is withholding the six imperial seals, preventing her decrees from being issued. Now that she’s approaching the age to assume personal rule, with no progress, how could she not be frustrated?”

Although Hulü wasn’t as close to the young emperor as Shangguan Zhao, as an attendant, he understood the pressures she faced. Thus, Shangguan Zhao’s explanation effectively masked the true reason for the emperor’s drunkenness.

The aftermath of a night of heavy drinking was painful. When Fu Wei woke the next morning, her head throbbed painfully. Stepping down from the bed felt like walking on cotton. She had the attendants fetch cool water and dunked her face in it, which helped somewhat. Dragging her weary body back onto the bed, she regretted drinking so much. Now that daylight had come, the problems remained unchanged.

After dawdling for half the day to dress, she emerged from her private quarters. Outside, the sunlight was warm, and the weather unusually mild for deep winter—it carried the faint scent of spring flowers. She caught a whiff of their subtle fragrance, which slightly lifted her spirits.

The attendant stood below the red steps, resplendent in his crimson robe and iron armor. Suddenly, fragments of last night’s events flashed through her mind—her shameless insistence that he stay with her. Meeting her old friend now filled her with embarrassment.

Shangguan Zhao came to greet her. She covered her face with her hand. “When I’m drunk, I act recklessly. Please don’t take it to heart. If I said anything offensive, forgive me for my lack of decorum.”

Shangguan Zhao smiled warmly. “It was far better than I expected. Your Majesty has no reason to reproach yourself.”

Thankfully, only Azhao had witnessed her wild behavior. If it had been anyone else, it might have sparked unnecessary bloodshed. Drinking, she resolved, was a mistake she wouldn’t repeat. Yet thinking of the Prime Minister still stirred anger and resentment.

“Is the Prime Minister’s illness still not better?” she asked the eunuch commander.

Jianye replied, “End-of-year affairs are busy. It’s said he inspected the Xuanqu cavalry despite being ill.”

She sneered coldly. “The Prime Minister truly works hard.” Waving her attendants away, she quietly instructed Shangguan Zhao, “Have someone secretly monitor him. Lately, I’ve felt his intentions shifting. I don’t know what schemes he’s plotting. If he can be loyal, that’s ideal. But if he acts treacherously, I won’t hesitate to eliminate him.” Finishing, she turned to gaze at the bright sun in the sky, sighing deeply. “Being an emperor is wonderful—but being the emperor of Yin is even better. I refuse to compromise any longer. What belongs to me, I will reclaim. If he holds something over me, so be it—I’ll make both him and that leverage disappear. Then no one will control me anymore.”

This resolve came after a night of sober reflection. Instinctively, when people sense danger, their first thought is self-preservation. Who would entrust their life to another? Trusting him, sharing secrets with him—that would be understandable. But now, she could no longer fully trust him. She began to consider whether everything should return to its proper course. Perhaps it had all been a dream. Once awake, life goes on—and those who must die will die.

Her face bore no smile; her eyes grew cold and hard. Seeing this, Shangguan Zhao bowed and agreed. Not just the Prime Minister—all movements of officials in the capital were now under the surveillance of the Eastern Palace guards. The transfer of power wasn’t as simple as replacing one person issuing orders. It concerned the survival of many, and as tensions rose, more desperate struggles would emerge.

Centralized power always came with bloodshed. Without fear of loss or gain, people became stronger. The Prime Minister resisted being controlled, and so did she. Two people in love, constantly worrying about each other, lost their fighting spirit. Time apart allowed for clearer perspective—what truly mattered most to her. She wasn’t a fragile woman relying on love to survive. Whether he was sincere or not, holding power firmly in her grasp was her only real security.

“To reclaim the six seals, we just need the right opportunity,” said the Minister of the Imperial Clan. “Prince Jing is currently being escorted to the capital. The weapons issue originally involved the Yan family. If we bring it up again, even if the Prime Minister has severed ties with the Yans to avoid suspicion, he’ll have no choice but to return the seals.”

The young emperor nodded and turned to ask Sun Mo, “What’s your opinion?”

Sun Mo replied, “Any further connection between the Yans and Prince Jing is irrelevant to the Prime Minister—it’s like hitting a cow through a mountain. Yan Xiang has held power for decades; his roots run deep. Even if the seals are returned, it won’t be long before he reclaims his influence. Remember, besides being Prime Minister, he’s also the Marquis of Changce, Commander of the Capital Region—a king without a crown, increasingly alarming. Rather than living in constant fear, it’s better to settle things now. Whether it’s Prince Jing’s accusations or the death of the princess, as long as Prince Jing implicates the Prime Minister, Yan Xiang will struggle to clear his name.”

Sun Mo’s words caused a stir in the hall. Scholars didn’t need swords or spears to scheme—a few well-placed words could kill invisibly. Beneath the refined facade of the court lay corruption and countless buried lives. Today’s plot wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last. When Huo Qubing died suddenly, rumors spread that Emperor Wu had orchestrated it to eliminate the Wei family’s influence. The truth remained unknown, but emperors had their calculations, beyond ordinary comprehension.

The choice rested on a single decision. The Grand Tutor and others looked steadily at her. “Your Majesty must decide quickly. Wei Cheng is escorting Prince Jing, and they’ll soon return. Delaying too long gives Yan Xiang’s allies room to maneuver.”

The young emperor frowned deeply behind her throne. “Don’t forget—he controls all the troops in the capital. Pushing him into a corner risks mutual destruction. Moreover…” Moreover, he held something over her. If he chose to strike, he could end her life instantly. She had to be cautious.

This was her dilemma—full of ambition, yet bound hand and foot. That’s why he could act so brazenly: skipping the celestial sacrifice at will, refusing to use the imperial seals when it suited him. She was powerless against him. If their love had been his initiative, she might have clung to it for survival. But in truth, their closeness had been something she pursued with great effort. If he no longer cared for her, she couldn’t even keep him by her side.

She only trusted herself, never others—not even someone who had once pledged eternal love to her.

“I understand your meaning, gentlemen, but this matter is no small thing. Allow me more time to consider.”

The Grand Tutor bowed. “Your Majesty, this is an opportune moment to dispel rumors. Please prioritize the greater good.”

Dispelling rumors? About her and the Prime Minister? Secretly, she had felt a flicker of joy at the gossip linking them ambiguously—it was the happiest feeling she’d ever known. Though she held immense power, she couldn’t openly love someone. She would never have the chance to hear someone point at her and say, “Look, that’s Lady Yan.” So even if her reputation suffered, finding small happiness in the cracks of life felt worthwhile.

But as the emperor, she couldn’t afford to be happy. Her face hardened, and her voice turned icy. “Rumors spread by the public—do any of you truly believe them? The Prime Minister and I are uncle and niece, mentor and student. Our political discussions and interactions are inevitable. Yet in the mouths of those with ill intent, they become so sordid.” She waved her sleeves irritably. “I’ve already taken Counselor Sun’s words to heart. Give me one day to think it over, and I’ll reply tomorrow.”

The ministers exchanged glances and withdrew from the chamber. As they walked out, Sun Mo remarked, “Her Majesty still holds old affections. Since ascending the throne at five years old, the Prime Minister has supported her until now. Even if we speak of his merits and faults, his dedication cannot be denied.”

The Grand Tutor disagreed. “Civil duties can be relinquished, but what about military ones? Unless we lure him into a trap and have strongmen strangle him on the spot, a single order from him could bring the entire army to besiege the city. Who would take responsibility then? Though young, Her Majesty is extremely cautious in her dealings.” He sighed deeply. “Let’s wait a little longer. This decision carries heavy consequences and cannot be rushed.”

The officials departed through the Qing Suo Gate, leaving Fu Wei sitting in the chamber of the Luqin Pavilion, her head pounding with pain.

Cutting ties sounded simple, but doing so was far harder. She still harbored some hope—if there were misunderstandings between them, wouldn’t that be unjust?

“The Empress Dowager’s recent edict demanding Princess Chaisang to enter the palace was refused, likely due to lingering resentment over the execution of Prince Changsha. Such remnants of traitors are dangerous if left alive,” she said with a frown. “Dispatch two teams of palace guards to the Prime Minister’s estate and ‘escort’ her to the Southern Palace. I want to see what kind of three-headed, six-armed figure dares to traverse the realms of the living and the dead.”

Hulü Puzhao accepted the order and went to carry it out. She walked to the window, standing beside Shangguan Zhao. “Azhao, as long as she exists, I can’t feel at ease. Bring her into the palace. If possible, she can join the harem.”

As she spoke, her thoughts drifted back to methods she’d once considered to deal with the Prime Minister, which she now intended to revisit. But Shangguan Zhao found them unfeasible. “Prince Changsha and Emperor Wen were of the same generation. His princess is Your Majesty’s elder.”

His reminder struck a chord—she realized the familial relations were too close for such a plan to work. Falling silent, she bit her lip and pondered for a while. “If I kill her now, how would the Prime Minister react?”

Shangguan Zhao shook his head. “It’s hard to say. Your Majesty could take a step back—detain her temporarily and observe the Prime Minister’s actions before making a final decision.”

Thus, when Princess Chaisang entered the Wend Palace, she saw the young emperor seated calmly within the tent.

The emperor wore black ceremonial robes and a jade crown. Her slightly thin face was elegant and refined. The tent was the place where the emperor made military decisions. Before it, brocade curtains were rolled high, yellow silk cords hung down adorned with green jade pendants. Through the gauzy walls, one could faintly see amber weights at the corners of the embroidered fabric, glowing faintly under the golden lamp... She dared not look further and deeply kowtowed. “Long live the Emperor, may your reign endure forever.”

The figure inside remained silent for a long time, carefully observing her. She wore a crimson-edged robe, her hair loosely tied in a simple bun—not particularly ornate, but every movement exuded elegance. When she first entered, Fu Wei noticed her appearance—the prominent nose and deep-set eyes characteristic of the Yuan family. Her pale face bore no adornment save for a touch of red on her lips. This delicate, pitiable appearance was one any man might adore.

Fu Wei slowly drew a breath. “You are Princess Chaisang?”

She bowed even lower. “To answer Your Majesty, yes. My name is Huan, and my fief is Chaisang.”

Good—neither servile nor arrogant, clearly someone accustomed to grand occasions. Fu Wei felt a twinge of jealousy but concealed it completely. As the emperor, she could only maintain a regal demeanor and ask simple questions; she couldn’t throw tantrums like a woman.

She spoke indifferently. “The news of your death spread throughout the court five years ago. The Zongzheng Temple’s genealogical records removed Chaisang, erasing you from existence. Now that you’ve reappeared out of thin air, how do you explain yourself?” She nodded to the eunuch, who loudly announced the formalities. The kneeling figure on the hall floor bowed again and moved to sit on a lacquered stool.

Yuan Huan’s response was simple. “My father committed grave crimes, and as his child, I was too ashamed to enjoy the fief granted by Emperor Wen. Thus, during my illness, false rumors reached the capital claiming I had died. Feeling deeply guilty, I chose to renounce my title, live as a peasant in the countryside, and atone for my sins.”

Fu Wei detected a flaw and smiled. “If that’s the case, why have you returned to the capital as a princess? What is your purpose here? To marry the Prime Minister?”

A hint of embarrassment appeared on Yuan Huan’s face. “I won’t deceive Your Majesty—I did harbor such selfish thoughts. After years of estrangement, neither side communicated for five years, and he remains unmarried. When I entered his residence, I saw that everything I once left for him remained untouched. I knew then that coming here was the right choice.”

That damned fake flower, no doubt! Fu Wei suppressed a smirk. “The rebellion of Prince Changsha was entirely handled by the Prime Minister. Do you not hate him for it?”

Yuan Huan lowered her head, revealing a slender neck that seemed fragile. Her gentle voice spoke softly. “At first, I did hate him, but over time, the feelings faded. My father’s treason was real, and the Prime Minister acted justly. If I hated him now, it would be unreasonable.”

Did her love override even vengeance for her father? From what Fu Wei knew, the Prime Minister and Prince Changsha had longstanding grievances. Whether the rebellion was truly justified, even she couldn’t say for sure, yet Yuan Huan dismissed it with a few vague words.

The jade corner piece in her hand tapped lightly on the lacquered table. In a slow, melodious tone, she said, “Disobeying the Empress Dowager’s summons is a grave offense, even with the Prime Minister’s protection. Furthermore, your identity must be verified by the Ministry of Justice. The bloodline of the imperial family cannot be confused. If discrepancies are found, it is a crime punishable by extermination of nine generations. I hope you understand.”

Yuan Huan stepped down from the lacquered stool and prostrated herself. “I dare not lie, please investigate, Your Majesty.”

Fu Wei looked down at her appraisingly. “How old are you?”

Yuan Huan kowtowed. “To answer Your Majesty, I am twenty-three.”

Five years younger than the Prime Minister. She had fallen in love with him at first sight when he was newly enfeoffed as a marquis, full of youthful valor. If their marriage were to happen, it would indeed be a beautiful story.

Suddenly, she lost the desire to continue questioning her. Dismissively, she said, “You are spared from the Ministry of Justice. The dampness of prison cells is too harsh for women’s frail bodies. Out of consideration for familial ties, I’ve pleaded with the Empress Dowager not to punish your disobedience. For now, remain in the palace. Once everything is clarified, I’ll allow the Prime Minister to take you back.”

Yuan Huan looked anxious. “If Ruchun returns from Changshui tonight and finds me gone...”

Fu Wei felt a surge of displeasure and slammed her hand heavily on the table. “When the Prime Minister learns you’re in the palace, he’ll have his explanation. You needn’t worry—follow the eunuch.”

Had she not repeatedly reminded herself to restrain herself, she would have executed this imposter on the spot. Calling him “Ruchun”—such intimacy! Fu Wei had always thought that name belonged exclusively to her. To hear Yuan Huan address him so casually felt like an insult.

What exactly was he planning? Even if he had some scheme, shouldn’t he discuss it with her? She wouldn’t refuse to cooperate. Ultimately, it all came down to power—a matter both prized dearly. Trying to negotiate with a tiger was futile; perhaps silence was the better option.

She walked to the eaves and watched the sun slowly set. The evening drums had begun to sound, their rumbling echoes reverberating above the Imperial City.

Perhaps she should visit the Empress. She felt a surge of defiance. He had reunited with his old love—why should he care whom she spent time with? As he had said, the Empress was her lawful wife, far more legitimate than him. When he came to the palace seeking an audience and found her with the Empress, let him taste the torment of jealousy. Why should she always be the one suffering?

She went to the Changqiu Palace, where the Empress was essentially under house arrest. If she didn’t visit, the Empress couldn’t leave. She remembered the night Han Yan tried to assassinate her, and he had come to see her in the rain despite his exceptional skills, willingly trapped in this deep palace. Power drove so many people mad—it was a disaster for those unable to possess it.

She entered the inner chambers. Behind heavy curtains hung strands of pearls and jade. The Empress’s quarters were luxurious—feathers of emerald, pearls that gleamed constantly. Yet the overwhelming presence of masculinity filled the space, perhaps because the room took on the qualities of its occupant over time.

Lingjun greeted her warmly and invited her to sit and converse.

“Earlier, Zhongchangqiu reported to me that Princess Chaisang has entered the palace.”

As mistress of the inner palace, all important matters should be reported to her. Fu Wei nodded. “Her origins are unclear—we must investigate thoroughly.”

Lingjun pursed her lips. Even without saying it, she knew this was deliberate abduction into the palace. It was difficult to see the young emperor’s sincere affection for the Prime Minister. Was spiritual infatuation really so hard to let go of? Leaning on the armrest, Lingjun observed her leisurely. Though physically present, her mind was clearly elsewhere, evident from her expression. He said nothing, quietly preparing tea as she paced the hall.

“Are you waiting for someone?”

She replied absentmindedly, “No, I’m not waiting for anyone.”

“I know the Prime Minister returned to the capital today. If you truly wish to upset him, summon the historian.”

Fu Wei looked at him in surprise. “Do you know what I’m thinking?”

Lingjun smiled, revealing two mischievous fangs. “We are husband and wife. Naturally, I understand Your Majesty well.”

The water clock on the table ticked away as the hour grew late. He wasn’t coming. Well, newlyweds had appearances to maintain. Pretending for so many times already, one more wouldn’t hurt.

Feeling defeated, she sighed and sat on the bed, lost in thought. The Empress rose and drew the curtains before the bed. The chief eunuch outside understood the signal.

The emperor visited the Empress, and preparations began methodically. A servant lifted the lid of the bronze incense burner, ready to place aloeswood inside. The chief eunuch gently raised the servant’s wrist—a gesture laden with meaning. The young servant glanced up, and upon seeing his silent cue, understood immediately. With a quiet affirmation, she lifted her skirt, barefoot, and retreated silently from the mat.