In the third year of Shun’an, autumn arrived, bringing waves of sorrow.
The palace gates and city gates were tightly closed, the imperial guards holding their weapons, maintaining strict vigilance day and night. Troops were stationed around the palace. The Empress was not in the palace; Consort Lan held the Phoenix Seal in her place, and the three top ministers were summoned to handle the funeral affairs. All officials wore plain white robes, kneeling outside the Hall of Supreme Harmony.
During Emperor Shun’an’s lifetime, the harem was filled with three thousand beauties and numerous concubines. The cries of mourning from the Chonghua Palace were incessant, echoing day and night.
The cabinet, located in the front courtyard of the palace, could hear the wailing and lamentation from a distance. Ministers shook their heads, instructing the servants to tightly close the doors and windows.
They had no interest in mourning Emperor Shun’an. In fact, they felt a vague sense of excitement; after enduring him for two years, Emperor Shun’an was finally dead!
Recalling the death of Emperor Chenghe, they had also gathered to exhaust their efforts in selecting a good emperor for Dayong, but the result was far from satisfactory. These years of constant bickering with the foolish Emperor Shun’an were truly exhausting. Now they could finally have a new emperor, which was a fortunate turn of events.
However, not everyone in the cabinet was of one mind, and differing opinions divided them into three factions.
One faction firmly supported the young crown prince. First, as the legitimate eldest son of the late emperor, his succession was natural and rightful. Moreover, due to his youth, many matters would rely on the cabinet, which would conveniently increase their influence.
Supporting a puppet emperor could not be more comfortable.
But another faction disagreed. Emperor Shun’an was not of legitimate royal blood, so how could his eldest son claim rightful succession? The young prince, being a child, could easily be manipulated. Who knows if a second Zhao Yong might emerge around him? The other two little princes still in their infancy were even less viable options.
If choosing from among the royal family, Prince Ning, with his upright conduct, seemed the most suitable.
Yet, this too was met with opposition.
The only surviving son of Crown Prince Huaijin was still alive, so why select from the royal relatives?
The eloquent articles from the Imperial Academy had swayed many court officials. Compared to Prince Ning, the support for the Grandson Prince was evidently higher. His popularity extended not just in the court but also among the populace. Who in the streets did not know that the owner of Cuixue Tower, who had been punishing corrupt officials and opposing the Jinyiwei for many years, was none other than the Grandson Prince?
The three factions debated fervently, their voices at times even drowning out the mourning cries from Chonghua Palace. Ministers, each holding their ground, argued passionately, their discussions growing more intense.
From dawn till dusk, no decision was reached.
Since Emperor Shun’an’s death, Ji Chongwang had worn a look of distress.
Ji Yuluo approached him, using the students of the Imperial Academy to guide public opinion, leading to the emperor’s death, which had all been orchestrated. Emperor Shun’an did not die of illness; he was likely murdered!
Ji Chongwang, having played a part in this conspiracy, felt like an accomplice, and how could he not panic?
This was a capital crime of regicide; that wretch dared to involve him in such a heinous act!
Ji Chongwang, disoriented, left the Imperial Academy, intending to confront Ji Yuluo for answers. To his surprise, he ran into the equally disheveled Xiao Yuanjing on the main street.
Xiao Yuanjing’s carriage had broken down midway. He hurriedly got out and ordered his men to clear the way, allowing Ji Chongwang to pass first. Once Ji Chongwang’s carriage left, Xiao Yuanjing’s expression changed. He grabbed the reporting servant’s hand, his temple throbbing, “What did you say? How could Yuanting be missing?”
The servant trembled, “I-I don’t know. He was still there when I returned to the old residence that evening, but he was gone the next morning.”
Xiao Yuanjing lowered his voice, each word squeezed out through gritted teeth, “Find him. Find him immediately! Do not alert the Duke’s mansion; search in secret!”
—
Ji Yuluo escorted Sheng Lanxin out of the city, the carriage barely halting at the city gate.
Inside the carriage, the two sat facing each other on a couch.
Ji Yuluo looked at Sheng Lanxin and said, “Lixian is neither too far nor too close. Even traveling day and night, it will take five or six days. Miss Shen, take care of yourself. I have left those maids with you; if there is anything urgent, just instruct them.”
Sheng Lanxin glanced out of the carriage window. Standing beside the carriage were a few maids, their postures straight and their expressions alert. Clearly, they were not ordinary maids but highly skilled warrior maids.
She expressed her gratitude, “Miss Yuluo, thank you. Now that you are by Huo Xian’s side, I feel relieved. However, I have one more request.”
Ji Yuluo raised an eyebrow, “Go ahead.”
Sheng Lanxin said, “Most of the concubines in the western courtyard are unfortunate souls. They were sent by their original masters and did not come willingly. Among them are palace maids sent by Zhao Yong. Over the years, they haven’t caused much trouble. If possible, please give them a chance to live.”
Ji Yuluo replied, “Of course—”
She nodded but suddenly stopped speaking, her expression freezing.
Yes, both Sheng Lanxin and Ye Linlang were women Zhao Yong had sent to Huo Xian. If the poison Zhao Yong used on Huo Xian truly made it impossible for him to engage in physical intimacy, why would he send women to spy?
Moreover, considering Huo Xian’s notorious behavior outside, if the poison indeed had such an effect, Zhao Yong would know. Why would he bother maintaining this pretense?
Sheng Lanxin asked, “Miss Yuluo, is something wrong?”
Ji Yuluo snapped back to reality, glanced at Sheng Lanxin, and suddenly asked, “Why hasn’t Huo Xian married all these years? He’s long been of age to marry and have children.”
Sheng Lanxin was surprised by Ji Yuluo’s question, though not entirely. After pondering, she slowly replied, “His life hangs by a thread, and he’s not his own master. Why drag innocent women into it? Last year, he married the eldest daughter of the Ji family because Ji Chongwang repeatedly put himself in Zhao Yong’s crosshairs. If their relationship couldn’t be eased, Ji Chongwang’s fate would be like that of Grand Tutor Xu, and the students at the Imperial College, with their unstable temperaments, could easily cause trouble. This was a last resort. But it’s unfortunate for your sister—unfortunate for Ji Yuyao.”
Ji Yuluo barely registered the lengthy explanation, focusing solely on the phrase “drag innocent women into it.”
She remained silent for a long time, her mind filled with images of Huo Xian’s restrained breaths by her ear, his furrowed brows, and bulging veins, sometimes cursing her in frustration.
It dawned on Ji Yuluo that she had indeed been a fool.
After bidding farewell to Sheng Lanxin and watching the carriage leave the city, Ji Yuluo coldly ordered, “Keep a close watch. No news from the capital should reach her ears.”
Chaolu nodded, showing a puzzled expression but asking no questions.
“Miss, shall we return to the residence?” Chaolu was a bit hungry, thinking of the date cakes Biwu had made before they left, which were probably cold by now.
Ji Yuluo boarded the carriage, “To the teahouse.”
Chaolu hid her disappointment and complied.
The evening clouds rolled in, casting fluctuating orange light through the window.
Ji Yuluo sat by the small table facing the window, a stack of secret letters before her. She opened two and stared at the empty envelopes for a long while.
Through a crack in the window, a maid peeked in, suspiciously asking, “Has Miss been daydreaming for the time it takes an incense stick to burn? Aren’t we returning to the residence today?”
Chaolu, holding a piece of cake, grumbled, “This tastes awful, just awful.”
The maid turned, confused, “What did you say?”
Listening to the murmuring outside, Ji Yuluo slightly tilted her head. The people outside immediately fell silent.
She spread out a letter before her but did not read it word for word.
Instinctively, she tilted her head to catch the slanting sunset on the window lattice, a complex expression crossing her face.
For a moment, she felt as though Huo Xian had pried open her heart.
Warmed it.
And melted it.
How annoying he was.
“Miss.” The maid’s voice suddenly interrupted, “Ao Zhi is here to see you.”
—
When Ji Yuluo arrived, Xie Subai had already set up the tea utensils.
The tea was boiling, its fragrance filling the air.
As soon as she sat down, she noticed the dust on Xie Subai’s robe and asked, “You went out?”
Xie Subai responded with a simple “Hmm” and said, “I went to give a lecture to the students at the Imperial Academy. Today was the first day.”
The young students at the Imperial Academy had all heard of Crown Prince Huaijin’s reputation and secretly admired him. Xie Subai, having inherited his father’s extensive knowledge, made a significant impression with his casual lectures.
He had even brought back several articles for review.
Ji Yuluo nodded. Xie Subai had started to appear in public, which was inevitable.
She asked, “Why did the Master summon me?”
Xie Subai took a sip of tea, and Ao Zhi handed over a token—an order for the troops of Cuixue Tower.
Cuixue Tower had maintained a small army for years. Initially, it was just a security force formed from bandits, but it gradually grew into a sizable force of nearly twenty thousand men.
This army was usually idle, a drain on resources. Two years ago, Ji Yuluo had considered disbanding them while reviewing the accounts, but Xie Subai had stopped her.
At the time, she didn’t understand the reason. Now she realized that Xie Subai never made a losing deal.
Xie Subai said, “Something has happened in Runing Prefecture. Soon, news of Xiao Cheng’s rebellion will reach the capital. I want you to lead the troops south to clean up the mess left by the rebels. You’ll have money and soldiers at your disposal.”
He paused and added, “Depart tomorrow. Remember, don’t pursue too closely, and avoid direct confrontation.”
Ji Yuluo understood immediately. He wanted her to trail behind Xiao Cheng, pacify the people, and harass the rebels.
This was Cuixue Tower’s specialty—creating momentum!
Previously, it was to build momentum for Cuixue Tower. Now, it was different. Now, the banner of Cuixue Tower bore the name of Grandson Lianyu.
But this military order had another layer of meaning.
Before, Ji Yuluo only managed one branch under Xie Subai’s protection, often failing to command respect. The army was a mix of various people, including bandit leaders and skilled martial artists who only respected Xie Subai.
By handing her the military order, Xie Subai was also initiating a transfer of power.
If Ji Yuluo hesitated even for a moment, Xie Subai would not have given her the token.
Ji Yuluo understood this was a test. She almost didn’t hesitate, took the military order, and stood up, “I understand. Rest assured, I will handle it.”
As she reached the door, Xie Subai suddenly called out, “Lu’er.”
Ji Yuluo turned back, “What is it?”
Xie Subai stared at her intently, his hand resting on his knee, nearly digging into it. His throat felt blocked, and after a long moment, he finally said, “Nothing, just be careful on the road.”
Ji Yuluo left.
The door curtain swayed lightly, the jade beads hanging down clinking together, producing a soft tapping sound.
With his head lowered, Xie Subai grasped the teacup tightly and spoke in a barely audible voice, “Just now, I regretted it again. She took the military order and became the master of Cuixue Tower. From now on…”
He turned his head slightly and said, “Ao Zhi, she will no longer stay by my side.”
His face showed a pain that was almost innocent, reminiscent of a child lost in confusion when a cherished possession was taken by his mother. The unmasked sorrow and bewilderment finally gave him the look of a young boy.
Ao Zhi felt deeply saddened. Her prince had been given so much in this life, yet everything he truly wished to keep had slipped away.
