Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
Before Luo Wei could speak, he continued, “I was late today because I didn’t know you were waiting for me.”
Luo Wei couldn’t be bothered to respond, sizing him up and raising her eyebrows: “Last time you came in such a hurry, I didn’t have time to ask—how do you manage to sneak into Qionghua Palace like it’s nobody’s business, wearing the robes of the Vermilion Bird every day? Li Neiren told me that His Majesty has stationed many guards around Qionghua Palace...”
Ye Tingyan lifted his robe hem and lazily sat down on the beauty couch by the window: “Your Majesty knows very well, why bother asking me?”
Luo Wei narrowed her eyes: “What do you mean?”
Ye Tingyan counted on his fingers: “After Lu Heng’s death, the Gold Sky Guards were implicated in the spring hunt assassination case and lost all favor. The Three Yards transferred them to patrol Biandu, hardly ever entering the palace again.”
“The Vermilion Bird was promoted to the first team of the Imperial Guard, but now they have too much on their hands and can barely spare anyone. The Left and Right Lin Guards under the Vermilion Bird are also the main force of the Imperial Guard, but these people are a mixed bag. Among them, there are people whom His Majesty trusts deeply, and after three years in the harem, Your Majesty naturally has your own trusted people... not to mention other guard units in the Two Offices and Three Yards.”
Luo Wei was somewhat surprised but quickly composed herself, coldly saying: “You certainly know a lot.”
Ye Tingyan innocently said: “Since coming to Biandu to seek my fortune, I dare not say anything else, but I’ve gathered quite a bit of information. Struggling in this sea of blood every day, if I don’t understand clearly, wouldn’t I live in constant fear even while sleeping? I don’t want to live like that.”
Half of what he said was probably based on his information, and half on his guesses.
But being able to see the big picture from small details showed broad vision.
Thinking this way, Luo Wei turned to sit at the dressing table, but unexpectedly, Ye Tingyan suddenly grabbed the loosely tied jade belt around her waist and pulled it back.
She lost her balance and fell abruptly into his arms.
Ye Tingyan wrapped his arms around her, preventing her from getting up: “Your Majesty’s hall is so dark, and we can’t light any lamps. Don’t stay so far away. I’m afraid of the dark; I can’t see you and would panic.”
His lies came effortlessly, without changing expression or skipping a beat. Luo Wei, leaning on his shoulder and thinking of how he had kept Yanluo alive as promised, endured it and only asked: “What about that palace maid?”
“I went through great lengths to find her,” Ye Tingyan yawned lazily, “To save her life, we have to make His Majesty think he can extract something from her—find a deranged palace maid, vaguely revealing one or two sentences, knowing something’s off but unable to get it out, and Lady Feng’s life can be saved.”
Luo Wei hummed in acknowledgment: “Then why did you make her confess ‘princess’?”
Ye Tingyan glanced at her: “Actually...”
He changed positions while holding her, speaking slowly: “The word ‘princess’ wasn’t my instruction. All I did was learn about that palace maid’s existence before the Vermilion Bird and, seeing she was already deranged, dared to have her ‘found’. Honestly, I didn’t expect her to confess anything, just wanted to guide her into saying some ambiguous words. Her mentioning ‘princess’ saved me a lot of trouble.”
He sighed, very casually: “Hmm, how about we pin this on Princess Ning Le?”
Luo Wei’s heart stirred, but she firmly said: “You know she meant Shu Kang.”
“Naturally,” Ye Tingyan played with her loose hair, “Back then, the three of you were close. Princess Shu Kang hadn’t severed ties with you, so it was a simple favor. Moreover... Princess Ning Le isn’t someone who saves lives. Doesn’t His Majesty think it’s Shu Kang and wants to investigate whether your breakup is real or fake?”
He twirled her hair ends, gently blowing, scattering the strands,
which then fell again: “So I say, let’s frame it on Ning Le. If it’s her, it matches your story, listen—back then, Ning Le knew Qiu Xueyu pleaded with you but failed, so she stepped in to save her life, sending her into your palace disguised as someone else to harm you. Though Shu Kang broke ties with you, suggesting she wants your life still seems far-fetched. But if it’s Ning Le, it’s not impossible, right?”
Hearing this, Luo Wei asked: “Do you have old grievances with Ning Le?”
Ye Tingyan smiled: “What old grievances could I have with the princess? It’s just that I know, Your Majesty should have old grievances with the princess.”
Luo Wei’s heart skipped a beat, covering up: “That’s a strange statement. What grudge could I possibly have with her?”
Ye Tingyan’s lips curled into a smile, not answering, just stroking her smooth, silk-like long hair addictively—she didn’t need to tie her hair in the hall, only fastening a long crimson ribbon.
His hand moved through it, unable to distinguish whether he touched her hair or that satin ribbon.
But Luo Wei was somewhat distracted by his earlier statement.
She remembered many things from the past. When she was young, she accompanied Song Yaofeng as a study partner and also interacted with Princess Ning Le Song Zhiyu. However, Song Zhiyu’s acquaintances were different from theirs, so they weren’t particularly close.
If she really held resentment against Song Zhiyu...
It was because of a poem she wrote after the Citang Case.
Back then, Luo Wei originally thought the proposal from the ministers to make her Empress Regent was absurd—she was the Crown Prince’s Consort, what connection did she have with Song Lan? Even if she were to assist in governance, why couldn’t she do so as an official? Besides, the court abounded with talent, why must she take on this role?
But the group of old ministers who were friends with her father wouldn’t relent, visiting her one after another.
With Fang Hezhi absent from court, among those with prestige, the aged ministers were already old. Yu Qiushi, a civil servant by origin, had been obscure in the Zishan Hall for many years. Later, for reasons unknown, he gained the former emperor’s trust, entered the political affairs hall, served as military governor, and gradually rose to his current position through hard work, strategic planning, and extensive networks.
No matter whom the clear-stream faction chose to assist in governance, they couldn’t guarantee this person could stand up to him.
Moreover, they worried that if they truly cultivated this person’s power, the court might fall into incessant struggles between two parties akin to before the abolishment of the Flower-Cutting Reform.
However, with an Empress revered by all and of good reputation, everything would be entirely different.
—They weren’t the Empress’s relatives; they wouldn’t form a clique with her. As long as she used her virtuous reputation to deter Yu Qiushi from acting recklessly, managing state affairs during the young emperor’s reign and buying him time to mature, once the emperor assumed personal rule, the threat from the Yu family would naturally resolve itself.
After the incident on Imperial Street, no one was more suitable than Luo Wei.
Su Zhoudu’s fame was too prominent. Luo Wei had studied under Gan Shilang, the foremost scholar of the realm, and also attended Fang Hezhi’s academy. She was conferred the title of Crown Princess, wielded Su Shi’s imperial sword, and had been involved in locust control and quelling rebellions. If she could further study politics, she would surely live up to everyone’s expectations.
Amidst the successive visits from her father’s old friends and virtuous officials in the court, Luo Wei slowly realized that she seemed to have no other choice.
Coincidentally, Song Lan was assassinated again, and neither inside nor outside the forbidden city could identify the assassin. This time he was severely injured, nearly losing his life. Luo Wei visited him in the palace and accepted his marriage proposal beside his sickbed.
To save Song Lan’s life from Yu Qiushi’s hands and gain more power to better investigate the Citang Case.
To prevent chaos in the court and preserve the hard-won peace since the revival of Mingtai, she could only place herself high on the pedestal, becoming a statue that awed the prime minister but lacked freedom.
Not long after Song Lan was crowned, the Three Departments submitted a report, identifying the culprits behind the Citang Case.
At that time, Luo Wei was still studying day and night in the library to best prepare for taking over state affairs, so she even learned of this news quite late—too late to react. Before she could, the Three Departments swiftly found complete witness testimonies and evidence, pinning the crime on the five major princes led by Song Qi.
Luo Wei was incredulous, struck like lightning.
At that time, she had no evidence to prove that the true culprit wasn’t Song Qi. She tried everything to visit him in prison but was shocked to find him tongueless, eyeless, and silenced by poison, awaiting death.
Song Qi smelled the faint scent of rose on her, struggling to move closer, writing words in her palm. Luo Wei dared not cry out loud but couldn’t help it; tears dripped onto his hand, scalding hot.
Song Qi wrote “not done by me” and then “Yu involved.”
In the late spring, the prison was still as cold as midwinter. After writing the character “Yu,” Luo Wei shivered and broke out in a cold sweat.
Yu Qiushi! Although Song Qi knew something, he claimed the Citang Case was Yu Qiushi’s doing?
If he did it, could his goal be to put the three princes, close to influential families, on the throne? But without recommending Song Lan, no one would think of this usually silent prince. Compared to Song Qi, the three princes were more suitable.
If not the three princes…
Her heart pounded faster and harder, increasingly fiercely—she was only eighteen, and after Song Ling’s death, she grieved excessively. Now recalling, she realized many inconsistencies.
Faces and words alternated in front of her, flickering in and out. Song Qi seemed to notice her suddenly icy, trembling hand, gripping tighter despite the blood.
Luo Wei looked up—the once free-spirited, carefree youth who disliked politics now had blood-streaked face and body, indistinguishable from a hellish ghost.
Why had he become like this? Who made him this way?
She used to go to the Ministry of Justice daily seeking her father’s old friends, concerned about solving the Citang Case. These days, Song Lan accompanied her in the library listening to renowned scholars’ lectures, distracting her temporarily and giving her no chance to save Song Qi.
Luo Wei carefully traced in his palm, reassuring him that she would do everything to find the true culprit and vindicate him, rescuing him. Song Qi was startled but firmly shook his head with a smile.
He didn’t respond to her words, only writing “take care.”
And “Yu now holds great power, will not stop, many may be implicated.”
Before leaving, he seemed to realize he would never see her again, finally unable to bear it, sobbing like a child in her arms. Finally, he wrote, “Lan younger brother is more perilous, do not end up like me. Please protect the aforementioned people to the best of your ability. Qi bows in gratitude in the next life.”
Luo Wei didn’t dare tell him her suspicions, only nodding desperately. As she turned to leave, she saw the words Song Qi had written on the prison wall with his finger dipped in blood.
Blind, his writing was blotchy, messy, and overlapping, losing the elegance that once spread across the world.
She read sentence by sentence, feeling heart-stopping and heart-wrenching.
One moment, it was “The ancients have already ridden the yellow crane away” [1], another moment, “The great roc flies, shaking eight directions, halfway through the sky, its strength fails” [2], and a few lines of his own poetry—life and death are trivial, mourn heaven and earth, meet you again in the future with peach blossoms and plums.
The next day Luo Wei visited the prison, Song Qi committed suicide in jail.
After learning the assassin implicated Song Qi, she initially wanted to discuss it with Song Lan, but now facing him, more doubts filled her mind, making her increasingly hesitant to speak.
No one to confide in, no time to plan anything. After Song Qi’s suicide, Yu Qiushi immediately submitted a memorial, strongly advocating strict handling of those involved in the Citang Case.
Luo Wei no longer dared to trust any “culprit” he found, watching the growing list of implicated names with trepidation.
Holding the memorial Yu Qiushi wrote for Song Lan, she went to the Censorate.
This was Luo Wei and Yu Qiushi’s first direct confrontation.
Before this, everything she knew was learned from books. Though she loved reading history books of previous dynasties and had studied the “Political Essay” with Song Ling, handling state affairs, it was all theoretical. Facing a cunning old fox seasoned in officialdom, she was utterly defeated, without any counterattack.
At the Censorate, Luo Wei was rendered speechless by Yu Qiushi’s questioning—assassinating the crown prince was treason, one of the ten unpardonable crimes. By law, it shouldn’t involve collective punishment? For over a decade, she and Song Ling had been affectionate. Why did she feel pity, could it be she was involved?
Unable to voice her suspicions about Yu Qiushi and Song Lan, her arguments repeatedly focused on avoiding harsh collective punishment, preserving the dynasty’s lenient principles.
Though defeated at the Censorate, advocating against indiscriminate killing still garnered some support.
Seeing a glimmer of hope for resolution, Song Zhiyu wrote a poem overnight, spreading across the land, completely destroying all her previous efforts.
Google Sites
Report abuse