Meng Fu brought the sorted reform policies and delivered them to Li Yue, asking His Majesty to take a look.
Li Yue scanned through them from beginning to end—it truly was exactly the same as what Meng Fu had just spoken. He stroked his chin and said to Meng Fu, “That old man Wei Jun’an will probably really go crash into a pillar after seeing this.”
“He won’t,” Meng Fu said seriously, “Before Lord Liu crashes into a pillar, Lord Wei won’t.”
Li Yue thought for a moment and felt that what Meng Fu said did make some sense. He sighed and said, “Then the two of them must hold hands and crash into it together.”
Meng Fu imagined that scene. It should have been a tragic scene, but when His Majesty said it like that, it suddenly became oddly funny.
Meng Fu couldn’t help but laugh softly. She immediately realized that laughing at this moment seemed a bit disrespectful to the two lords. She brought her fist to her lips, lightly coughed once, and restrained the smile at the corner of her mouth.
Li Yue pushed the papers back in front of Meng Fu and said to her, “They won’t agree.”
Meng Fu responded with an “Mm.” She hadn’t intended for Wei Jun’an and the others to agree anyway. She said to Li Yue, “They won’t agree to what’s written here, but they will agree to what you said earlier.”
Li Yue didn’t quite understand what Meng Fu meant for a moment.
Meng Fu explained: “The thoughts of ministers are actually quite simple at times. No matter what kind of reforms Your Majesty proposes regarding the balance of civil and military officials in the court, their first reaction will definitely be to oppose it. However, while opposing, they also really like harmonizing and compromising. If you first propose a condition that they absolutely cannot accept, and then, under their intense persuasion, you take a step back, they will mostly feel that it is acceptable.”
She paused and continued: “Just like when Lord Wei was in charge of performance evaluations—at the beginning, he was completely opposed to this policy. But later, both he and the Secretariat changed their stance greatly, advocating for the implementation of evaluations, and even presided over it himself. It’s just that when drafting the detailed plan, he left a few loopholes. At that time, you also turned a blind eye and let him be.”
Unfortunately, in the end, Wei Jun’an was undercut by Liu Changlan, and all those loopholes were patched up, causing Wei Jun’an to lose face in front of the Emperor.
That probably became the thing Lord Wei regretted the most this year.
Li Yue raised his eyebrows. Just now, he had thought that Meng Fu’s mention of those who liked compromise and reconciliation did not include him—seems he’s still not domineering enough.
Meng Fu glanced at Li Yue’s expression and said again: “Moreover, Your Majesty has probably never made concessions in front of them before—at least, on the surface, certainly not. So this time, the chances of success may be even higher.”
If this matter ends up succeeding, perhaps Wei Jun’an and the others would even feel quite pleased with themselves, thinking that they played a vital role in this reform and won more benefits for their colleagues.
This method may not be suitable for frequent use by His Majesty, but in the short term, the court probably won’t encounter such a tricky problem again.
After Meng Fu finished speaking, she saw the Li Yue across from her looking at her with a strange expression. Meng Fu cautiously asked: “Your Majesty, why are you looking at me like that? Is it that this can’t be done?”
“That’s not it,” Li Yue said with a smile. “It’s just that you’re really amazing—actually thinking up such a method.”
Meng Fu had received quite a few compliments from Li Yue before, but hearing His Majesty praise her so straightforwardly like this, she still felt a bit embarrassed.
Li Yue said, “Let’s do as you said. If it doesn’t work, I’ll handle it in the future.”
Meng Fu nodded. After they had lunch at Yunxi Tower, they went together to the open land outside the western outskirts. The horse Li Yue brought today was a green-maned horse, walking by Li Yue’s side, appearing very obedient and friendly.
Just like before, Li Yue led the horse on foot, taking Meng Fu on a walk around the area.
The hidden guards nearby were already numb to this kind of scene.
Not long after, Meng Fu got on the horse. Li Yue sat behind her, repeating once again the techniques needed for riding, and at the same time correcting the parts she did wrong. After they ran two rounds like this, Meng Fu felt she was about ready, and turned back to say to Li Yue: “Your Majesty, I want to try by myself.”
Li Yue responded with an “Mm.” Without waiting for the horse to stop, he directly turned and jumped off the horse.
Meng Fu was startled by his movement and cried out involuntarily: “Your Majesty?”
As her voice fell, Li Yue had already landed steadily on the ground, standing there with a smile, looking up at Meng Fu. The warm sunlight fell on the corners of his eyes and brows—he looked much gentler than he had inside Yunxi Tower.
“You scared me,” Meng Fu said. There was a trace of complaint in her tone, one that even she didn’t quite notice herself.
Li Yue knew that she was worried he might get hurt, so he reassured her, “It’s fine, I’ve trained before.”
Meng Fu opened her mouth, seeming to want to say something, but in the end, she didn’t say anything.
Li Yue tugged the reins and made the horse stop. He said to Meng Fu, “Later, don’t ride too fast, be careful.”
Meng Fu nodded, “I know.”
Li Yue let go and took two steps back, giving Meng Fu space.
Meng Fu straightened her back, took a deep breath, gripped the reins tightly with both hands, raised her head to look straight ahead, and said, “Jia!”
The green-maned horse under her began to run forward with light and nimble steps. At first, Meng Fu was a little nervous, but as time went on, she gradually relaxed, and even tried letting the horse run a bit faster.
The cool wind brushed against her cheeks, and the green grass ahead stretched endlessly to the horizon. She thought of the dream she had that night—actually, this world was far bigger than she had imagined, but she herself was not as small as she was in the dream either.
The green-maned horse ran faster and faster. Meng Fu’s body bounced up and down with the horse’s galloping stride. After completing one lap, as she returned, she saw His Majesty standing on the hilltop. Seeing that she was riding quite well, he waved at her.
Meng Fu didn’t dare let go of the reins in her hands, so she only smiled at him. She didn’t know whether, from such a distance, His Majesty could see her or not.
More horses were released onto the riding field, and no one paid them much attention—after all, no one could know what went on inside a horse’s mind. After walking around the open ground for a couple of laps, they suddenly began chasing after Meng Fu, seemingly wanting to race with the green-maned horse under her.
The hidden guards thought this kind of minor situation could surely be handled by His Majesty, so they remained in place and did not act.
Li Yue sensed that something might be wrong. This was Meng Fu’s first time riding a horse—she might not be able to handle it. He grabbed a white horse that was running past him, mounted it in one leap, and sped off in pursuit of Meng Fu.
Li Yue’s premonition came true. After those horses gave chase, the green-maned horse under Meng Fu suddenly accelerated and galloped wildly forward. Caught off guard, Meng Fu was jolted, and the wind at her ears began to roar, whipping her sleeves into loud flutters.
Meng Fu was indeed flustered for a moment, but she quickly calmed herself. She firmly remembered His Majesty’s teaching—gripping the reins tightly with both hands, squeezing the horse’s sides with her legs, and keeping her eyes forward. Very soon, she steered the green-maned horse out of the pack. She rode faster and faster, until it seemed she would merge with the wind and light itself.
She very much enjoyed this moment of unrestrained freedom.
After two kè (刻, traditional time unit—approximately 30 minutes), the green-maned horse had left the other horses far behind. Meng Fu pulled the reins tight, and the green-maned horse neighed loudly, raising its two front hooves high. Meng Fu’s body arched backward in a wide curve, yet her expression remained unchanged, just as calm as she had been at the beginning.
She left behind a dark silhouette under the brilliant July sunlight—this silhouette became frozen in that moment of time.
Seeing the green-maned horse rear up, Li Yue didn’t know what Meng Fu was thinking, but he himself got a scare. He immediately urged his horse forward, stopped beside her, and asked, “Are you alright?”
Meng Fu, sitting on the horse, had a faint blush on her face. Hearing Li Yue’s question, she turned her head and shook it, saying, “I’m fine. I’m very good, Your Majesty.”
Li Yue let out a sigh of relief, then heard Meng Fu ask him, “Your Majesty, did I win?”
Li Yue originally wanted to say—Win what? I didn’t come here to race you, and besides, this race isn’t fair at all. But when he saw those sparkling eyes of Meng Fu’s, in the end, Li Yue changed his words and said: “Yes.”
After he said that, he noticed Meng Fu didn’t show any joy of victory—instead, she gave him a strange look. Li Yue felt a bit uncomfortable and asked her, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Meng Fu smiled and said: “I thought you would say, ‘That just now doesn’t count as a match, let’s race again.’”
Li Yue: “……”
Meng Fu asked again: “Did I guess right?”
Li Yue pursed his lips and said nothing. He suspected that Meng Fu might have mind-reading skills, otherwise how could she know exactly what he was thinking.
Meng Fu pressed her lips and gave a low laugh, then asked Li Yue: “So, do we race, Your Majesty?”
Li Yue glanced at her. On Meng Fu’s face was a kind of joy and yearning he had never seen before—perhaps even Meng Fu herself had never seen it.
He had a feeling that Meng Fu in this moment was somehow a little different from usual. He couldn’t say exactly what had changed, but it felt good—it should be preserved. He nodded and agreed: “Then let’s race.”
As soon as Li Yue’s words fell, Meng Fu had already spurred her horse forward, shooting out like an arrow off the string, dashing far ahead in an instant.
He truly hadn’t expected that Meng Fu would actually play dirty.
Li Yue shook his head and laughed, yet he didn’t feel angry at all. He called out, and immediately gave chase.
Meng Fu rode her horse toward the distance. The long wind became her wings, and the blazing sun split apart the shackles.
At this moment, she was the master of herself. This small stretch of heaven and earth let her gallop freely.
——
Since that day on Mount Fengji when he saw His Majesty playing the qin, Xie Wenzhao had been somewhat absent-minded. He arranged to meet Meng Yu, hoping she could play for him that tune from back then. But as soon as he brought up the matter of playing the qin, Meng Yu looked at him with such sorrowful eyes that Xie Wenzhao couldn’t say another word.
In the end, he truly didn’t manage to ask anything.
He didn’t dare ask His Majesty, and couldn’t ask Meng Yu—could it be that he would go on in confusion like this forever?
Xie Wenzhao suddenly felt a bit resentful—why did he have to understand the qin so well? To the point where he could so easily hear the differences between people in their music.
He thought for a long time, and suddenly remembered that when he listened to Meng Yu play in the capital back then, Meng Fu was present on a few occasions. If there really was some secret, perhaps Meng Fu knew. Xie Wenzhao hesitated for a long time and ultimately decided to go ask Meng Fu.
He had once made a private vow: if he ever went to see Meng Fu again, he would be a dog. Xie Wenzhao felt lucky he had only made that vow silently in his heart—no one else knew about it, or he would once again be a laughingstock.
Xie Wenzhao first went to Jixue Courtyard, but he didn’t find Meng Fu. The servants said she had gone to the back garden to clear her mind. Xie Wenzhao had no choice but to head to the garden.
He searched for a good while in the garden before finally spotting Meng Fu by the lakeside. His third aunt-wife [concubine of his father from the third household/branch] was there too. They were following behind Meng Fu, chirping non-stop. Since it was too far, Xie Wenzhao couldn’t hear what they were talking about.
He was just about to walk over when he suddenly noticed that Meng Fu was actually carrying a longsword in her hand. Xie Wenzhao’s footsteps paused, and he had the urge to curse. With Meng Fu’s current explosive temper, wouldn’t she stab him the moment he approached?
How ridiculous—was talking to Meng Fu now not only a mental torment but also a potential physical danger?
Who exactly was the master of this marquis manor?
Back then, Xie Wenzhao had once asked a similar question in front of Meng Fu. At the time, Meng Fu’s gaze was filled with ridicule.
He must have had bad luck for eight lifetimes to have taken her as his wife into the Xie family.
Clearly, Meng Fu wasn’t like this before.
In the end, Xie Wenzhao couldn’t bring himself to go fetch a weapon. If he really started fighting swords with Meng Fu, what would that look like? He walked over and called out to Li Yue, “Meng Fu.”
Li Yue raised his head and looked at him. The blessing of the Bodhisattva had worn off a bit fast—Xie Wenzhao still had the face to come over. What he’d said earlier about Xie Wenzhao’s skin being as thick as the city wall was not a bit exaggerated.
Xie Wenzhao knew Meng Fu didn’t want to see him. The two of them, husband and wife, had become resentful enemies, to the point where even seeing each other was unbearable. If it weren’t for his urgent need for a definite answer, he absolutely wouldn’t have come to see her.
Xie Wenzhao said coldly: “I came to ask you one thing. Once I ask, I’ll leave.”
Li Yue didn’t speak. Xie Wenzhao went on speaking on his own: “What I want to ask is, back then when I went to Tianyin Tower and heard someone playing the qin, was it Meng Yu who was playing?”
“Meng Fu, you just have to tell me—was the qin music I heard back then played by Meng Yu?”
After he finished speaking, there was no reaction from Li Yue. Instead, it was Qingping at the side who looked at Xie Wenzhao indignantly. The Marquis was asking such a question in front of the Lady—what did that mean? He had said he disliked the Lady playing the qin, and ever since she married him, she had never played again. Now he came today deliberately to upset her?
He deserved to be scolded by the Lady.
Li Yue raised his hand and twirled the sword in a flourish. Xie Wenzhao instinctively took half a step back, and only after stepping back did he realize this move was a great loss of dignity.
Li Yue let out a disdainful “tch” sound. Xie Wenzhao heard it and felt even more ashamed.
Li Yue asked him nonchalantly: “So what if it was? So what if it wasn’t?”
Xie Wenzhao said: “Whatever it is has nothing to do with you. You only need to tell me—yes or no.”
Li Yue lowered his voice and asked him: “If I said yes, are you planning to bring Meng Yu into the marquis manor too, and make her your fourth concubine?”
As soon as Xie Wenzhao heard that, he became angry. His face darkened, and his voice grew even colder than before. He said: “Meng Fu, Meng Yu is your biological younger sister—how could you say something like that?”
Li Yue clicked his tongue and found Xie Wenzhao’s words somewhat laughable. He asked: “So you do still remember she’s my younger sister.”
He narrowed his eyes. Xie Wenzhao married the elder sister, yet kept thinking about the younger sister all the time. If that was the case, then why didn’t he marry Meng Yu in the first place?
Xie Wenzhao said angrily: “Meng Fu, you should know in your heart why I married you back then. Why say things like this now?”
Xie Wenzhao had always felt that in this marriage, he and Meng Yu were the real victims. Thinking of Meng Yu’s about-to-cry expression at Yunxi Tower, Xie Wenzhao couldn’t help but choke up a little. He asked Li Yue: “Do you know how much grievance Meng Yu has endured for you, her elder sister? But she never once resented you. Even now, she still often asks how you’re doing in the marquis manor, and tells me to treat you well.”
“But you? You could actually say let her be—”
Xie Wenzhao opened and closed his mouth but still couldn’t say the word “concubine”, even though he was currently suspicious of Meng Yu, he could not tolerate anyone else insulting her.
“I can’t even say this word—do you truly consider Meng Yu your real sister? If I had known you were this kind of person, even if Meng Yu had spoken up back then, I absolutely would not have agreed to this marriage…”
Li Yue was puzzled. He had once asked Meng Fu why she had married Xie Wenzhao, and Meng Fu had only said it was her parents’ decision, a match made by the matchmaker. How did Meng Yu get involved in this?
Xie Wenzhao was still going on and on, speaking more and more energetically. Li Yue felt that scolding Xie Wenzhao today wouldn’t be enough to release the fire in his chest. With someone like Xie Wenzhao, scolding him would just be a waste of spit.
Li Yue glanced at the small lotus pond in front of him, then lifted his foot expressionlessly and gave a hard kick at Xie Wenzhao’s lower back.
Xie Wenzhao was completely unprepared. His whole body was like an oversized polo ball, and with a loud plop, he fell straight into the lotus pond ahead, splashing water everywhere.
Behind them came the startled cries of Hua Xiaoling and the others.
The pond wasn’t deep—just chest-high. And it was summer, so even if someone fell in, it was actually no big deal. But at least it could quiet the person down for a while.
Xie Wenzhao was dazed after falling in. It took him a while to react and realize what had just happened. He couldn’t believe that Meng Fu had really laid hands on him.
Standing in the water, Xie Wenzhao raised his head and looked at Li Yue on the bank, shouting sternly: “Meng Fu, don’t you think you’ve gone too far?!”
Li Yue said: “I don’t think so.”
Xie Wenzhao almost laughed in anger. He said: “Pushing your own husband into the water—Meng Fu, you’re really something. If I call the authorities today, do you know what the consequences would be?!”
Before Li Yue could speak, Qu Hanyan stepped forward. She said to the Marquis Xie Wenzhao, who was standing in the water: “Marquis, how could you wrong the Lady like this? It was clearly you who accidentally fell into the lake yourself, and now you’re saying the Lady pushed you.”
Li Yue: “?”
Xie Wenzhao: “?”
Was Qu Hanyan blind? Should they call a physician over to take a good look at her eyes?
Hua Xiaoling also stood out and chimed in: “Exactly, Marquis, you really were too careless. Hurry up and come out.”
Xie Wenzhao was so furious he was about to lose his mind. What—was being blind contagious?! Did they think he didn’t know perfectly well how he had ended up in the pond?
He turned his head to look at Sun Yulian, hoping there would at least be one person here whose eyes functioned properly.
Sun Yulian looked at Xie Wenzhao, then at the Lady, and was internally torn to the extreme. She hesitated for a long while, then stepped forward—but chose a poor position, and her eyes were dazzled by the reflected glare of the sword. She moved slightly to the side and softly said: “Marquis, the Lady truly did not push you.”
The Lady kicked him.
Xie Wenzhao was trembling all over with rage. He wanted to open his mouth to give them a proper scolding—but instead, he sneezed.
Sun Yulian quickly raised her hand and said: “Marquis, I can swear to the heavens that I have not uttered a single false word.”
As soon as Sun Yulian said this, Xie Wenzhao became confused. Could it be that he really had falsely accused Meng Fu?
Had he been possessed by a ghost?!