At this moment, the imperial palace of the Great Song was ablaze with lights, and the sounds of battle echoed through the air.

Countless Imperial Guards patrolled cautiously, holding torches and spears, their eyes sharp and alert. Amidst the chaos, a cloaked figure in black slipped unnoticed into the northeastern corner of the palace—Jingxin Hall. This hall, newly built the previous year by the emperor, was dedicated to the worship of Buddhist statues.

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Once inside, the figure pulled back his cloak. The Second Prince, Zhao Shang, who had been waiting in the hall for some time, recognized the face and rushed forward anxiously.

Zhao Shang asked, “Master, what is happening? What is going on outside? Why has chaos erupted all of a sudden? Has something happened?”

His forehead was drenched in sweat. Locked away in Jingxin Hall by imperial decree, Zhao Shang had no way of knowing what was transpiring beyond these walls. Earlier that night, he had finished his vegetarian meal and was about to transcribe Buddhist scriptures for the Empress Dowager. He had only written halfway when the sounds of combat reached him from outside. The noise had scared him out of his wits—he feared that Zhao Fu had finally decided to execute him. He had hidden behind a pillar, waiting in terror, yet no one came for him. Only after an hour did Shanting arrive.

The monk’s face was as emotionless as ever, revealing neither joy nor sorrow. He pressed his hands together in a Buddhist gesture and said calmly, “Your Highness, something has indeed happened. His Majesty is gravely ill and has been bedridden for more than three days. Today, a prince has raised troops in rebellion. By now, they are likely already at the palace gates.”

Zhao Shang’s eyes widened in shock. “A coup?!”

Shanting’s voice was distant, as though it came from within a dense fog. “Yes, a coup.”

“How dare he?!” Zhao Shang roared. “Who is it? Zhao Jing or Zhao Ji? They actually dare to commit such an act of treason?”

Shanting simply replied, “This humble monk does not know.”

Before the words had fully settled, the clash of weapons rang out again from the distance. Zhao Shang trembled and stammered, “Then… what should I do?” He had been confined in Jingxin Hall, with no advisors by his side. At this moment, he was utterly panicked, unsure of his next move.

There was no doubt—whether it was Zhao Jing or Zhao Ji leading the coup, if they succeeded, they would never allow him, their elder brother, to live.

A horrifying thought crossed Zhao Shang’s mind: Would they even frame me for the coup and pin the crime on my head?

He clenched his fingers tightly, wishing he could personally kill the treacherous brother who dared to rebel.

Yet, without armor or weapons, how could he possibly eliminate the rebels? He couldn’t even escape the palace. Just as Zhao Shang was on the verge of despair, Shanting spoke.

“His Majesty is gravely ill, and the Imperial Guards in the palace are leaderless. Only Your Highness can command them to fight back.”

“Me?”

Shanting nodded. “Indeed. Your Highness is a prince. Other than you, no one has the authority to command the three thousand Imperial Guards stationed in the palace. Your Highness must not hesitate. You must head to Zhaode Gate immediately and stop the rebels before they breach the palace.”

Zhao Shang’s heart burned with resolve. “Master is right! I cannot sit here and await my doom!”

The grand doors of Jingxin Hall swung open. As Zhao Shang stepped outside, he saw the Imperial Guard commander, Ruan Feng, waiting at the entrance. Zhao Shang turned back to glance at Shanting, his eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Master Shanting. As long as I draw breath, those traitors will never set foot inside the palace!”

Ruan Feng knelt on one knee, his face hidden in the darkness. “Your Highness, please give the order.”

Zhao Shang’s gaze was steely. “From where are the rebels attacking?”

Ruan Feng replied, “Zhaode Gate.”

“Good. Then follow me—we will cut down the traitors at Zhaode Gate!”

The night loomed heavy, like a monstrous beast pressing down on everyone’s hearts.

Beyond Zhaode Gate, the Fourth Prince Zhao Jing and the Fifth Prince Zhao Ji led the capital garrison’s troops in a frenzied assault on the gate. Above them, the Imperial Guards rained down fire arrows, desperately trying to hold back the storm of soldiers.

However, when the Great Song’s imperial palace was originally constructed, it was never meant to be a fortress. Shengjing was the empire’s capital—if enemies had already reached the palace, the city was already lost. There was no point in fortifying the palace itself. As a result, the three thousand Imperial Guards stationed at Zhaode Gate were struggling to hold their ground, while the rebel forces gained the upper hand.

Gritting his teeth, Zhao Jing cursed, “That treacherous Zhao Shang! Not only has he colluded with that wicked monk Shanting, but he even turned the Imperial Guards against us! Father is trapped in the palace—who knows how he fares?”

Zhao Ji added, “Tonight, we fight as brothers. Together, we will behead Zhao Shang. What do you say?”

Zhao Jing nodded. “Agreed!”

Zhao Ji raised his hand and ordered, “Charge! Seize Zhaode Gate for this prince!”

The soldiers roared as they surged forward, storming the massive gates.

The defenders atop the walls were weakening. The gate, barely holding, seemed on the verge of collapse.

Zhao Jing and Zhao Ji’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. Both subtly assessed each other. While they were united in their goal of eliminating Zhao Shang, whoever entered the palace first and “saved” the emperor would claim the greatest merit. Neither wished to let the other steal this monumental achievement.

With a thunderous crash, the towering gates groaned and shattered. Just one final strike, and the entrance would be theirs.

Zhao Jing and Zhao Ji held their breath, preparing to charge in—only to see a force approaching from outside the palace.

Both turned their heads, faces lighting up with joy.

“Prime Minister Ji!”

Ji Wengji rode in on horseback, his aged body battered by the journey. Gazing at the wrecked Zhaode Gate, he seemed to glimpse another door—one from long ago. His sharp, ancient eyes peered beyond the ruined gate and saw the dense ranks of archers hidden behind it.

The night was deep, time slipping away like a dream.

Ji Wengji returned to his senses and greeted the princes. “Fourth Prince. Fifth Prince.”

Zhao Jing, furious, exclaimed, “That traitor Zhao Shang dares to attempt a coup! Prime Minister, join me in storming the palace and executing him!”

Zhao Ji quickly added, “Join me, Prime Minister! Help me take Zhao Shang’s head!”

The capital garrison surged forward, their roars shaking the sky.

Yet Zhao Jing and Zhao Ji were unaware—behind the tattered Zhaode Gate, Zhao Shang and his Imperial Guards had already positioned their archers, waiting to unleash a deadly rain of arrows.

Meanwhile, chaos reigned within the palace. Eunuchs and maids fled in panic, while a cloaked figure slipped quietly into Funing Palace.

In the vast, empty hall, only the grand eunuch Ji Fu remained, guarding his master. A single lamp flickered in the sleeping quarters, casting shadows over Ji Fu’s trembling form. He dared not speak.

At the imperial desk, a frail figure held a brush and carefully wrote in large characters—

“Do not ask the heavens.”

Shanting removed his cloak, pressed his hands together, and greeted him. “Your Majesty.”

Zhao Fu did not respond. He carefully completed his calligraphy, then took his imperial seal, pressed it into red ink, and stamped it onto the paper. Admiring his work, he finally looked up.

“Tell me, how does my calligraphy look?”

Shanting glanced at it. “A monk does not speak falsehoods.”

Zhao Fu laughed and turned to Ji Fu. “He means to say it is terrible!”

Ji Fu, tense as ever, stammered, “Your Majesty’s writing is excellent.”

Zhao Fu nodded. “Indeed. I think so too.”

Tossing the brush aside, he stood, stretched, and asked, “Zhao Shang has gone?”

Shanting replied, “He has.”

“And Zhao Jing? Zhao Ji?”

“They are here as well.”

Zhao Fu fell silent. Then, he murmured, “Then someone should be arriving at Funing Palace soon.”

At that moment, Imperial Guard Commander Ruan Feng arrived, kneeling outside.

Zhao Fu turned, his expression unreadable. “Well? Is it Zhao Shang, Zhao Jing, or Zhao Ji?”

Ruan Feng hesitated before replying, “All three princes are in Zichen Hall, awaiting judgment.”

Zhao Fu stiffened.

At that moment, he asked, “Are they all there?”

Ruan Feng replied, “Yes, all of them.”

“How could they all be there?!”

Ruan Feng hesitated. “It… it was the Left Prime Minister who rode alone through the Zhaode Gate first. The Second Prince did not release his arrows, so now… they are all waiting in Zichen Hall for His Majesty.”

Zhao Fu collapsed onto his throne, staring blankly at the four characters on the desk.

“Do not ask the heavens.”

The monk Shanting fingered his prayer beads, his voice drifting like mist. “Karma is the cause, breaking the barrier is the effect. One who indulges in desire is like one holding a torch against the wind—they are bound to burn themselves. Yet, due to illusions and attachments, they cannot attain enlightenment. Benefactor, beneath Avīci, the Thorned Hell—ultimately, you are alone.”

Zhao Fu abruptly lifted his head, his eyes burning with murderous intent as he stared at Shanting.

The round-faced monk, with his benevolent brows and kind eyes, continued his chanting, neither pleased nor sorrowful.

The night echoed with the sound of weapons and war drums. In the Right Prime Minister’s residence, the kitchen had long stopped serving food, yet Tang Shen and the Right Prime Minister remained at the table, sitting awake until dawn.

As the eastern sky brightened and the sun began to rise, a government officer rushed into the estate. “Reporting to daren, the Minister of Justice, Geng daren, entered the palace half an hour ago.”

Wang Quan was surprised. “Geng Shaoyun? Why would he enter the palace? What exactly happened last night?”

The officer had only followed Wang Quan’s orders to gather information from the usual channels; anything he hadn’t learned, he couldn’t report. Wang Quan waved a hand dismissively. “You may leave.”

“Yes, daren.”

Tang Shen turned to him. “Uncle, what on earth happened in the palace?”

Wang Quan sighed. “Oh you, even if you ask, I truly do not know.”

Tang Shen looked a bit embarrassed.

Wang Quan continued, “But Geng Shaoyun entering the palace is unexpected. If he has done so, does that mean there has been a turn of events? But what kind of turn?”

Intrigued, Wang Quan pondered deeply, yet he couldn’t grasp the full picture.

He could not have known that outside Funing Palace, Ji Wengji, dressed in an old, slightly worn official robe, was being led into the hall by Grand Eunuch Ji Fu.

As he stepped inside, the scent of burning sandalwood filled his nostrils, thick and heavy, obscuring clarity. Without lifting his head, the Prime Minister stood quietly in the hall, waiting.

After a long while, a figure emerged from behind the curtains, stopping before Ji Wengji and gazing at him silently.

A sigh drifted through the air, as if from a distant place.

“Oh, Chong Ming…”

The Left Prime Minister, Ji Wengji, courtesy name Chong Ming—which was drawn from the I Ching: “The double brightness aligns with righteousness.”

Ji Wengji slowly raised his head and spoke sincerely, “Your subject, Ji Wengji, pays respects to Your Majesty.”

Zhao Fu spoke gently, “Why have you entered the palace?”

“I am concerned for Your Majesty’s health.”

“I feel quite well.”

“Your Majesty’s well-being brings me great joy.”

The two of them faced each other in silence. No one knew how much time passed. The imperial incense in the hall had burned out, and the air grew cold.

Zhao Fu finally spoke. “Chong Ming, you and I have been ruler and minister for over twenty years. Yet suddenly, I find… I can no longer understand you.”

Ji Wengji lowered his head, his tone steady but respectful. “Your subject has never understood Your Majesty either.”

Bang!

A teacup flew straight at Ji Wengji’s forehead, smashing into him and breaking into shards upon the ground. Blood gushed down his face.

Ji Wengji was old now; the sudden blow nearly knocked him over. He staggered but managed to steady himself.

Zhao Fu let out a sharp, breathless laugh. “You don’t understand me?”

Blood covered Ji Wengji’s face, yet his eyes remained piercingly clear. His voice, despite the injury, was calm as he spoke slowly.

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“Indeed, I do not understand. I do not understand what crime the Second Prince committed to be branded a rebel traitor. I do not understand what the Fourth and Fifth Princes did to make Your Majesty seek their deaths. Even a tiger does not eat its cubs. If all three princes perish, then tell me, Your Majesty—this Great Song, this empire you struggled to wrest from others, whom will you hand it to?”

“Zhao Ao? Zhao Qiong?”

“Have you forgotten? Every other Zhao in the realm has already been slaughtered. The only ones left are the descendants of Prince Jing.”

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Tang Shen, filled with confusion, sat down and obediently picked up his chopsticks to eat.

This was Tang Shen’s first time entering the residence of the Right Prime Minister. The manor was located in the eastern part of the city, sprawling and magnificent. Just looking at the reception hall, the screen wall was adorned with a landscape painting by a renowned artist of the dynasty, while the walls were hung with authentic calligraphy by a master from the previous dynasty. The chairs were made of rosewood, and the table was a sandalwood octagonal table.

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Any one of these items, if taken out, would be worth a thousand taels of silver.

However, Wang Quan had invited Tang Shen to his residence for a meal, and indeed, there were no other guests—just the two of them.

The vast Right Prime Minister’s residence was eerily quiet at this moment. Servants brought dish after dish to the table, presenting a dazzling array of food, but Tang Shen only grew more puzzled and found it hard to eat. He pondered in his heart but worried that Wang Quan might adhere to the rule of not speaking during meals, so he decided to wait until after the meal to voice his confusion.

Who would have thought that the dishes from the kitchen kept coming one after another, seemingly endless?

Tang Shen sensed something was amiss. He put down his chopsticks and said, “This lower official greets Wang xianggong.”

Wang Quan smiled, “Just call me Uncle.”

Tang Shen was momentarily speechless, then said, “Uncle.”

Wang Quan nodded, “Good.”

Tang Shen, “Uncle, did you summon me here today because there’s something you want to discuss?”

Wang Quan feigned surprise, “Why do you say that? Can’t I just want to see you and take advantage of Zi Feng’s absence to bring you here?”

Tang Shen: “…”

Tang Shen, “If Uncle wanted to see me, you could have done so at any time. There was no need to rush. Moreover, Wang.. Wang daren has gone to Youzhou and won’t be back for at least ten days or half a month. Uncle, coming from a prestigious family, values etiquette. As a junior, it should be my duty to pay my respects to you during the New Year. It was my oversight to neglect this. If Uncle wanted to see me, you only needed to say the word, and I would have come. There was no need for such haste today.”

“Haste?”

“Without a greeting card, just bringing someone here in a carriage—isn’t that haste?”

Wang Quan stared intently at Tang Shen, stroking his elegant beard as he smiled, “Today, I finally understand why my nephew is so insist about you.”

Tang Shen’s face flushed, but fortunately, the deep night concealed it.

As the two spoke, the kitchen brought out two more dishes of pastries. The dishes kept coming faster and faster, with each new dish replacing the previous one before it could be fully eaten. Tang Shen, as a fourth-rank official, had followed Wang Zifeng and enjoyed many delicacies over the past five years, but the sum of all those meals couldn’t compare to the feast before him today.

The more dishes that came, the heavier Tang Shen’s heart grew.

He said, “Uncle, what exactly is going on?”

Wang Quan, “What’s going on? Perhaps something, perhaps nothing. If it’s nothing, then so be it. If it’s something… let it be.”

Tang Shen was stunned.

It was already past 11 PM, nearing midnight, and the sky was pitch black. Wang Quan leisurely sipped his tea, while Tang Shen sat silently beside him. As the clock struck midnight, the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly echoed outside the house. Wang Quan’s hand, holding the teacup, tightened, and Tang Shen straightened his back.

However, the footsteps had nothing to do with the Right Prime Minister’s residence. They seemed to pass by and then fade into the distance.

But from then on, the sounds of footsteps and horse hooves never ceased.

The glow of torches lit up half of Shengjing, dyeing the sky a bloody red. The common people had long been awakened by the sounds of soldiers marching, but none dared to open their doors to see what was happening. They all barricaded their homes, fearing intruders. However, these soldiers weren’t targeting civilian homes. They marched north, straight into the imperial palace.

Just after midnight, a messenger rushed into the Right Prime Minister’s residence with urgent news.

“The Second Prince is staging a coup!”

Tang Shen was shocked, but Wang Quan let out a long sigh.

Tang Shen quickly regained his composure and stood up, asking, “Is this true?”

The messenger, “The news came from the palace. How could it not be true? It’s said that the Son of Heaven has been bedridden for a long time and remains unconscious. The Second Prince has colluded with traitors and is taking advantage of the situation to stage a coup. Now, the other two princes have received the news and are rushing to the palace to rescue him. This is all information that Right Prime Minister Wang daren had me investigate, using his connections. How could it not be true?”

Tang Shen slumped back into his chair.

After a long while, the messenger left, and the hall was once again empty except for Tang Shen and Wang Quan.

In Shengjing, the sounds of shouting, horses neighing, and soldiers marching echoed incessantly. The direction of the palace was now engulfed in flames. The Right Prime Minister’s residence was some distance from the palace, so they could only see the red glow in the sky from afar. The surroundings, however, were eerily quiet.

But before long, the steward of the Right Prime Minister’s residence came to report, “The Fourth Prince, Zhao Jing, has sent someone to invite Master to enter the palace and apprehend the rebels.”

Wang Quan replied indifferently, “Have they been sent away?”

The steward, “They have been sent away.”

Wang Quan, “Then there’s nothing more to do.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the kitchen brought out another dish. The porcelain bowl clinked as it was placed on the table, echoing Tang Shen’s current state of mind. His thoughts were a chaotic mess. Since entering the Right Prime Minister’s residence, he had been caught in a maze, unaware of what was happening. Now, he suddenly became clear-headed, as if an invisible hand had parted the clouds, allowing him to glimpse a sliver of the truth.

Tang Shen looked up and said, “Now, has someone also gone to my residence to invite me into the palace?”

At the same time, halfway across Shengjing, at Tanhua Residence, Yao San opened the door. He said to a middle-aged man who looked like an advisor, “My master is not at home. He left earlier.”

The advisor was stunned.

Back at the Right Prime Minister’s residence, Wang Quan’s eyes lit up, “What do you mean by that?”

Tang Shen, “The Second Prince is staging a coup, and the other two princes want to apprehend him. They can’t act rashly, as that would make their actions unjustified. They need to invite a high-ranking official to assist them, and the best candidates would be the first-rank officials, such as you, Uncle. However, while ordinary officials might be persuaded, if you, Uncle, don’t want to go, even the princes can’t force you. So, if you send them away, they have no choice but to leave.”

“Correct.” Wang Quan gestured for him to continue.

“But I’m different. As a Censorate official, I hold a fourth-rank position. No matter how much His Majesty favors me, I’m still only a fourth-rank official. If a prince orders me to do something, how can I refuse? If I join a prince’s faction, it would represent Sir, Senior Brother, and even you, Uncle. That’s why you sent someone to bring me here tonight—to prevent this from happening!”

Wang Quan burst into laughter, just as the sound of clashing weapons echoed outside the walls. He laughed heartily, seemingly unafraid of the chaos outside, and praised, “Zi Feng’s affection for you is justified, as it should be!”

Tang Shen’s fingers tightened, “But there’s one thing I want to know.”

“Speak freely.”

“How did you know that the Second Prince would stage a coup tonight?”

“Why don’t you guess?”

Tang Shen fell silent, deep in thought.

The sounds of fighting near the Right Prime Minister’s residence had ceased, and everything returned to silence.

“Uncle, unlike me, you have been maneuvering in the court for many years, with trusted people everywhere. Perhaps you deduced this from the movements of the Five City Military Commissions tonight, from the troops coming and going at the military camp on the edge of the city, or from the Imperial Guards…” Tang Shen paused, hesitating before asking, “But since you already knew, others must have known as well. His Majesty is gravely ill and unconscious. The only ones who can stop this palace coup are the two princes. The Second Prince is staging a coup, while the Fourth and Fifth Princes are rushing to the palace to rescue His Majesty…”

Tang Shen’s voice trailed off.

Wang Quan looked at the lavish spread of dishes on the table and smiled gently, “Do you sense something amiss?”

“Uncle, you are a pillar of the Great Song. If you had known about this in advance, you would never have allowed it to happen. Besides you, Prime Minister Ji must have known as well, and he would never have stood by and watched. So, the only person who could make you sit back and watch as the two princes clash with the Second Prince…”

Tang Shen suddenly fell silent, saying no more.

Wang Quan set down his teacup and sighed deeply, “A year ago, Zi Feng told me that he couldn’t see through it either, but he trusts that person. As the saying goes, three cobblers equal one Zhuge Liang, but that’s just a joke. In the Great Song court, who can compare to that person?”

Tang Shen, “But why is all this happening?”

“Why? You want to know, I want to know, and Zi Feng wants to know. But aside from that person himself, no one knows!”

In Shengjing, chaos reigned.

Officials wrapped themselves in their robes and got out of bed, trembling in their studies, unsure of what to do.

Left Vice Prime Minister Chen Linghai, upon hearing that the Second Prince was rebelling, immediately changed his expression, “How could this happen?” When the Fifth Prince, Zhao Ji, sent someone to invite him, he hesitated for a moment before sighing deeply, “Tell them I’m ill and cannot receive guests.”

Right Vice Prime Minister Xu Bi was even more interesting.

Earlier that day, Xu Bi had left Shengjing for a leisure trip to a country manor in Northern Zhili. It was the New Year holiday, and no one knew that Xu Bi was not in the capital.

Meanwhile, outside the residence of Left Prime Minister Ji Wengji, envoys from both Zhao Jing and Zhao Ji waited on either side.

The gates of the Left Prime Minister’s residence were tightly shut, and the interior was pitch black and silent. No one answered the knocking of the soldiers, but the soldiers refused to leave, standing guard outside.

In the northwest corner of the Left Prime Minister’s residence, in a simple and secluded courtyard, a small oil lamp flickered, illuminating a modest room.

No one would have guessed that this was Ji Wengji’s study.

The room had only one oil lamp. The Left Prime Minister and his wife sat across from each other at the table, using the dim light—one sewing clothes, the other writing.

Madam Ji finished sewing the sleeve and looked up, seeing the characters her husband had written on the paper. Her throat tightened, and after a moment, she said softly, “It’s so late. Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Ji Wengji, as if waking from a dream, looked up at his wife, “Are you tired, wife?”

It was already past midnight, and both of them were old. How could they not be tired?

But Madam Ji smiled and said nothing.

Ji Wengji lowered his head and looked at the characters he had written. His gaze paused, and he fell silent.

The entire sheet of paper was densely covered with a single character—

“Zhao.”

Ji Wengji leaned back in his chair, staring at the paper filled with the character “Zhao.” He pointed at it and said to his wife, “Wife, what character do you think I’ve written?”

“It looks like the character ‘Zhao.'”

“It is the character ‘Zhao.’ But whose ‘Zhao’ is it? Is it Zhao Shang, Zhao Jing, Zhao Ji… It can’t be Zhao Ao. Perhaps it’s Zhao Fu?”

Madam Ji’s expression changed. Although she was a woman of the inner chambers, she knew that Zhao Fu was the current emperor’s name.

“Husband!”

“Or is it Zhao Xuan?”

Suddenly, Ji Wengji stood up and reached for his robes. Madam Ji hurried after him, “What are you doing?”

Ji Wengji smiled, “Someone is knocking at the door. Didn’t you hear, wife?”

Madam Ji didn’t know what was happening, but she could hear the sounds of slaughter throughout the city that night. Her eyes reddened, and she complained, “But can’t you just not go out?” As she spoke, she helped Ji Wengji put on his robes.

“I can, and I can’t.”

“Ai?”

Ji Wengji laughed heartily, took his wife’s rough hands, and said gently, “These past fifty years have been hard on you, wife. Life in Shengjing hasn’t been easy. I remember we still have some farmland.”

Madam Ji, “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“I just remembered, that’s all.”

Madam Ji personally saw Ji Wengji off. As he was about to open the main gate, she couldn’t help but ask again, “Do you really have to go?”

Ji Wengji looked at his wife seriously, “Yes, I really do.”

“Why?”

Ji Wengji laughed freely, “If it weren’t right before my eyes, it would be one thing. But since it is, how can I let it happen again!”

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In the next moment, Ji Wengji opened the gate. The envoys from the Fourth Prince, Zhao Jing, and the Fifth Prince, Zhao Ji, had been waiting outside for a long time. When Ji Wengji suddenly appeared, none of them reacted immediately.

Ji Wengji, dressed in a deep red official robe, surveyed the scene with an imposing presence. “Let us go to the palace.”

“Yes!”

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As the night deepened, shadows danced among the flowers, and the moon cast its mesmerizing glow.

Yanchun Pavilion was nestled on the western side of the imperial garden, hidden among lush trees. Its windows, made of specially crafted crystal glass from Baibao Pavilion, gleamed under the brilliant palace lights, creating a dazzling spectacle. Officials, dressed in their formal court robes, took their assigned seats.

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To the emperor’s left sat the Second Prince Zhao Shang and the Fourth Prince Zhao Jing, while the Fifth Prince Zhao Ji sat to his right. Officials arranged themselves according to rank.

Tang Shen’s seat was neither too close nor too far from the emperor. To his left sat the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy, and to his right, a Hanlin Scholar.

Though the banquet at Yanchun Pavilion was not a family feast, it bore some resemblance to one.

After the emperor took his seat, he exchanged a few words with his sons before turning his attention to several high-ranking ministers. Their conversation was private, and those seated further away couldn’t hear a single word—such was the mark of imperial favor.

Tang Shen, having just “recovered from illness,” was unable to drink alcohol. He sipped tea in silence, occasionally glancing toward the emperor.

The emperor’s face appeared pale. He, too, abstained from wine, instead drinking a bowl of dark medicinal broth at intervals. He occasionally spoke with Left Prime Minister Ji Wengji and Right Prime Minister Wang Quan, while the three princes made multiple attempts to join the conversation—only to be repeatedly shut out, their faces reddening in frustration.

Behind the emperor stood a figure—not the head eunuch Ji Fu, but a round-faced monk dressed in simple robes.

The monk idly rolled a string of Buddhist prayer beads through his fingers, a serene smile gracing his face. Suddenly, he lifted his gaze and met Tang Shen’s eyes.

Tang Shen’s heart clenched, and he immediately looked away.

The monk, Shanting, smiled slightly. After a moment, he bent down and whispered something into Zhao Fu’s ear. The emperor chuckled.

Midway through the banquet, one of the princes could no longer restrain himself.

Fourth Prince Zhao Jing stepped forward. “After traveling to Jizhou, I have acquired a rare stone from beyond the heavens. Its shape is most peculiar, and upon seeing it, I was overcome with joy. I wish to present it to you, Imperial Father.”

The emperor’s expression flickered with interest. “A stone from the heavens? Bring it forward.”

Zhao Jing’s attendants carried in a large stone half as tall as a grown man. The officials gasped in amazement upon seeing its shape.

“This celestial stone resembles a Ruyi scepter—a true omen of prosperity and good fortune!”

The emperor, too, was pleased. He smiled and said, “You have been most thoughtful.”

Zhao Jing beamed with delight.

Seeing the Fourth Prince seize the spotlight, the other two princes could not sit idly by.

Zhao Shang and Zhao Ji quickly presented their own gifts in an attempt to win the emperor’s favor. However, while their treasures were valuable, they lacked the symbolic auspiciousness of Zhao Jing’s Ruyi-shaped celestial stone.

By the xu shi (7-9pm), the banquet concluded, and the officials departed from the palace.

As Tang Shen exited Yanchun Pavilion, he cast a final glance back. There, he saw Shanting following closely behind Zhao Fu, quietly fading into the shadows.

The next day was New Year’s Eve.

With all officials on holiday, Tang Shen helped Aunt Yao and Feng Bi decorate the house. The family gathered joyfully to make dumplings.

That night, just as they sat down for their meal, a knock sounded at Tanhua Residence.

Yao San answered the door and returned with a letter. “It’s from Youzhou.”

Tang Shen immediately unsealed it. Inside, he found only a single line of poetry—an altered version of an old verse:

“If love is to last forever, should it not also yearn for each and every day?”

Though the alteration was clumsy, Tang Shen’s heart warmed. He carefully placed the letter in his study’s document drawer.

As he stepped back outside, Yao San was preparing to light fireworks. Seeing him, Yao San grinned. “Little boss, would you like to set this one off yourself?”

Tang Shen rolled up his sleeves and smiled. “Leave it to me.”

With a loud bang, the firecracker shot into the sky—heralding the start of a new year.

Yet, while fireworks brightened the night sky over the city, the imperial palace was shrouded in an eerie silence.

On New Year’s Eve, while commoners celebrated with family feasts, the imperial family gathered for their own.

That afternoon, Prince Zhao Ao entered the palace. This year marked the first New Year’s Eve without the Empress Dowager, and he was expected to accompany the emperor.

Not all imperial members were invited—only Zhao Ao, his Princess Consort, Prince Heir Zhao Qiong, the three Princes, and their respective mothers. The gathering totaled about ten people.

At first, the banquet proceeded in relative harmony.

But after half an hour, the Second Prince Zhao Shang, eager to flatter his father, raised his cup in a toast and spoke a few words.

Suddenly, Zhao Fu slammed the table, his expression twisting in fury.

“Your grandmother has been gone for less than a year, and you’ve already forgotten her? Is this how my ‘filial’ son repays me?!”

Zhao Shang’s eyes widened in shock.

The room fell into stunned silence. No one even recalled what Zhao Shang had said to trigger such wrath.

His mother, Consort Zhen, quickly stepped forward to plead on her son’s behalf. She assumed the emperor was simply overwhelmed by grief.

But the moment she spoke, Zhao Fu let out a bitter laugh, his gaze ice-cold.

“Have you two been eagerly awaiting my death then?”

Zhao Shang collapsed to the floor, his face drained of color. Consort Zhen stood frozen in horror, utterly speechless.

The family banquet ended on this chilling note.

That night, Consort Zhen was confined to her palace to “reflect on her transgressions.” Zhao Shang was imprisoned in a small Buddhist temple hall, where he was ordered to recite scriptures ninety-nine times and transcribe one hundred copies of the Guanyin Sutra before he could be released.

When Zhao Ao left the palace, he was still bewildered. Turning to his son, he muttered, “What just happened? We were all just eating, and then suddenly, the Empress Dowager came up?”

Zhao Qiong had no answers.

Zhao Ao frowned. “I need to see my imperial brother. He was truly devastated by Imperial Mother’s passing. Zhao Shang made a mistake, but my imperial brother mustn’t let his anger ruin his health—it isn’t worth it.”

Princess Consort Jing pulled him back. “Don’t go. This is imperial business. Even if you are a prince and his brother, you cannot interfere.”

After a moment of hesitation, Zhao Ao relented and left the palace without intervening.

Two days later, news of Zhao Shang being imprisoned in the palace spread.

Tang Shen, holding a relatively minor position, heard of it later than most. But when he did, he also caught wind of another rumor—

The emperor had fallen ill from rage.

When he met Zhao Qiong at Qianli Tower, Zhao Qiong recounted the family banquet.

“I also don’t know what happened. One moment, His Majesty was in good spirits, speaking with my father. The next, Zhao Shang said a few words, and he suddenly exploded.” Zhao Qiong sighed. “His Majesty is also truly unwell. This morning, my father went to the palace to attend to him.”

Since the Empress Dowager’s death, Zhao Fu had been falling ill frequently as if overcome with old age—and each time, his condition was severe enough that it was a miracle he recovered.

After bidding farewell to Zhao Qiong, that evening, an unexpected guest arrived at Tang Shen’s home.

The Chief Astronomer of the Astronomical Bureau, Li Xiaoren, was brought into the flower hall. Seeing him, Tang Shen saluted, “This lower official greets Li daren.”

In just a few short months, Li Xiaoren had become skeletal, his cheeks sunken, his lips tinged blue, looking like a man recovering from grave illness.

Tang Shen recalled that at the Yanchun banquet, Shanting had attended the emperor, while Li Xiaoren was absent.

He cautiously asked, “Li daren, have you been unwell?”

As expected, Li Xiaoren nodded. “I caught a severe chill last month. I only just regained the strength to leave my bed.”

Tang Shen replied, “You must take care of yourself.”

Li Xiaoren hesitated. Then, in a hoarse voice, he asked—

“Is Wang Zifeng, Wang daren still in Youzhou?”

Tang Shen understood immediately—he was here for Wang Zifeng.

“Senior Brother is still in Youzhou and has not returned. The affairs of the Silver Pull Division keep him too busy; it will likely be a few more months before he comes back to the capital.”

Li Xiaoren’s expression twisted in distress, and he coughed heavily a few times. “Ai, what should I do?”

Tang Shen looked at him calmly and said, “If you have pressing matters, daren, you can write a letter to Youzhou. But Senior Brother is certainly not coming back anytime soon.” His tone made it clear—he had no intention of interfering and wasn’t even interested in asking why Li Xiaoren had come.

Li Xiaoren hadn’t expected Tang Shen to be so indifferent. His face stiffened momentarily before he finally blurted out, “Tang daren, you don’t know—there is truly something wrong with that monk, Shanting! Ever since he arrived, His Majesty’s health has never improved! To tell you the truth, though I have been unwell and unable to enter the palace, my two apprentices have been serving inside all this time. Do you know what one of them saw yesterday? He saw Shanting secretly meeting with the Second Prince, who is imprisoned in the Buddhist temple hall. Their behavior was far too familiar!”

Tang Shen’s heart trembled, but outwardly, he only showed a trace of surprise. “Is that so?”

Li Xiaoren insisted, “Would I lie about such a thing?”

“Has daren informed His Majesty of this?”

“Well…”

Tang Shen pressed on urgently. “This… I don’t even know what to make of it, nor what should be done! Why hasn’t Senior Brother returned yet? Perhaps daren should write to Youzhou immediately and ask him what should be done!”

Li Xiaoren continued speaking, but Tang Shen only played the part of someone flustered and helpless, eager to seek Wang Zifeng’s advice. Disappointed, Li Xiaoren finally gave up and took his leave.

On the seventh day of the first lunar month, Zhao Fu’s illness still showed no improvement. Prince Zhao Ao remained in the palace, attending to him.

By evening, Tang Shen was at home reading when a sudden knock came at the door. Yao San opened it to find a middle-aged man dressed as a steward. Seeing Yao San, the man smiled and gave a polite bow. Yao San, having never been bowed to before, quickly imitated the gesture in return.

The man asked, “Is this the residence of Tang Shen, Tang daren, the Court Gentleman Consultant?”

Yao San led him inside. Upon seeing Tang Shen, the man also bowed and said, “Greetings, Tang daren.”

Tang Shen gave him a once-over and asked curiously, “And you are?”

The middle-aged man smiled. “I am a steward from the Right Prime Minister’s residence. My master invites you to his home for a meal. It is the New Year, and he has yet to meet with you. I have been sent to escort you.”

Tang Shen found it a bit strange but cupped his hands in salute. “So, you are from Wang xianggong’s residence. Then, I shall comply with your master’s invitation.”

Soon, Tang Shen was seated in a carriage on his way to Wang Quan’s residence.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Along the way, he pondered deeply. He did not believe that Wang Quan would invite him over simply for a meal. Like Wang Zifeng, Wang Quan also hailed from the prestigious Langya Wang clan—a noble family of impeccable manners. If it were Wang Zifeng or Tang Shen visiting each other’s homes, they could do so freely, without formal invitations. But Wang Quan was different. Even if he was aware of Tang Shen’s relationship with Wang Zifeng, he wouldn’t summon him so abruptly.

Carrying these doubts, Tang Shen entered the Right Prime Minister’s residence.

Before he could say a word upon seeing Wang Quan, the Right Prime Minister simply smiled slightly, pointed at the table full of dishes with his chopsticks, and said, “Eat.”

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The three princes had been away from the capital for half a year. When they left, they were mere commoners without any notable achievements. Upon reaching their assigned regions, they naturally devoted themselves to governance, eager to make their mark.

The second prince, Zhao Shang, was stationed in Gusu. Initially, he intended to intervene in the affairs of the Silver Pull Division through the Military Silver Exchange Bank, hoping to assist in its operations and improve the local administration. However, things did not go as smoothly as he had envisioned. For some reason, he eventually abandoned his plans with the Silver Pull Division. Instead, the memorial he submitted detailed his efforts in leading troops to eliminate a group of river bandits.

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The fourth prince, Zhao Jing, was assigned to Jizhou, a region frequently devastated by floods from the lower reaches of the Yellow River. Each year, floods would turn Jizhou into a vast expanse of water, displacing countless civilians. Zhao Jing sought out skilled craftsmen from the Ministry of Works to reinforce the dikes in Jizhou.

The fifth prince, Zhao Ji, was sent to Liangzhou. Unlike Gusu, which, despite its prosperity, still had occasional bandit activity that could be dealt with for merit, or Jizhou, where fortifying dikes could be recorded as an accomplishment, Liangzhou posed a different challenge. Situated in the heart of the Central Plains, Liangzhou was wealthy and peaceful, free from natural disasters or major calamities. After much deliberation, Zhao Ji followed the advice of his advisors and focused on bureaucratic reforms. Though his work did not yield immediate results, it was far-reaching in its impact and required significant effort—arguably more than what Zhao Shang and Zhao Jing had undertaken.

As the New Year approached, all three princes wished to return to the capital for the festivities and submitted memorials requesting permission. Since memorials from the princes bypassed Qinzheng Hall and went directly to the emperor’s desk, there was no one to highlight key points for review.

When Emperor Zhao Fu opened one of the memorials, he was met with a flowery preamble: “Your son, writing from Gusu, has spent sleepless nights longing for Imperial Father, and my heart aches with an unbearable yearning…”

What utter nonsense.

Zhao Fu pinched his nose as he read through all three memorials. However, he did take an interest in the work of the fifth prince, Zhao Ji. He scrutinized the third memorial for a long time before summoning the Minister of Personnel, Shen Yun.

“My sons wish to return to Shengjing for the New Year. What do you think, Minister Shen?” the emperor inquired.

Shen Yun respectfully replied, “At the beginning of each year, officials of the fifth rank and above are required to report to the Ministry of Personnel for their annual evaluations. The three princes returning to the capital is reasonable, given their status. Since they are of imperial blood, they need not adhere strictly to bureaucratic protocols, and their return before the New Year is understandable. In my opinion, it is entirely appropriate.”

Zhao Fu nodded. “Then let them return.”

News of the three princes’ impending return spread throughout Shengjing overnight. Imperial envoys were dispatched to Gusu, Jizhou, and Liangzhou to deliver the decree, while speculation ran wild among the officials in the capital.

Tang Shen also sensed that this decree carried deeper implications. The return of the three princes was no trivial matter—this homecoming was bound to stir up a storm that could flood the entire capital.

Yet, before anyone could fully process the significance of the emperor’s decision, a peculiar event took place in Shengjing.

Su Wenyun, the Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works and Junior Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, was being pressured into marriage by his own family!

At twenty-six years old, Su Wenyun was considered past the ideal marrying age, yet he remained unmarried. The Su family, a prominent clan from Northern Zhili, had been patient for years. Given that Su Wenyun was the highest-ranking official among his kin, no one had dared to push him on the matter. Moreover, he rarely returned home from the capital, making it difficult for his family to intervene.

But with the New Year approaching and Su Wenyun turning twenty-seven, his family could no longer stand idle.

His elderly grandmother traveled overnight from Northern Zhili to Shengjing, cane in hand, and forced Su Wenyun to kneel in the ancestral hall before their family’s ancestral tablets. There, she made him recite the family rules while sternly reprimanding him for his irresponsibility.

In the past, it was always Junior Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, Su Wenyun, who used convicted officials as live targets for relentless beatings. When had there ever been a time when he was the one being disciplined? This amusing incident quickly spread throughout the streets and alleys of Shengjing, becoming a joke in the back courtyards of many officials’ residences.

“There are three unfilial acts, and the worst of them is failing to produce heirs! Do you not feel ashamed before your deceased parents?”

Kneeling for so long that his knees turned bruised and swollen, Su Wenyun dared not defy his grandmother. Pity him, a third-rank official, forced to kneel at home as punishment with nowhere to appeal.

Even Emperor Zhao Fu caught wind of the situation. Summoning Su Wenyun to the palace, he asked with great amusement, “Is it true?”

The expression on Su Wenyun’s face became truly remarkable. Given the state of his knees, how could it not be true?

Zhao Fu’s laughter rang through Chuigong Hall.

Shortly after, Su Wenyun received an imperial decree assigning him to inspect the newly completed official roads in Cizhou.

The moment this decree was issued, officials had mixed reactions.

Tang Shen, however, found it rather intriguing. “The Su family’s marriage pressure was likely genuine—Su Wenyun himself probably never expected his grandmother to show up in Shengjing. But being forced to kneel for an entire day and night… Does that really sound like something Su Wenyun would put up with?”

Tang Shen mused, “Regardless of the truth, this incident provided him the perfect excuse to leave the capital. He’ll likely be away until after the Spring Festival, neatly avoiding the storm that the three princes’ return will bring.”

While Su Wenyun successfully made his exit, others were not as fortunate.

What Tang Shen didn’t know was that the day before Su Wenyun’s departure, a memorial from Youzhou had arrived at the emperor’s desk. It was submitted by Wang Zhen, the Senior Grand Secretary of the Left, who detailed the arduous nature of the Silver Pull Division’s operations, emphasizing that its tasks could not be accomplished overnight nor by a single individual. The underlying message was clear—he was subtly requesting the emperor to send additional manpower, specifically Tang Shen, to Youzhou to assist with the Division’s work.

Zhao Fu was well aware of the close relationship between Wang Zhen and Tang Shen. The final line of the memorial even contained a personal note expressing how deeply Wang Zhen missed Tang Shen—words that only a favored minister could say to an emperor, unintelligible to outsiders but fully understood by Zhao Fu.

Unfazed, the emperor skimmed through the beautifully written memorial and replied with a single phrase:

“I am aware.”

That very day, Zhao Fu appointed Yu Chaosheng, Xu Linghou, and others to Youzhou—but not Tang Shen.

When Tang Shen later heard about Wang Zhen’s request, he immediately grasped the implications. His heart warmed at Wang Zhen’s concern. In response, he penned a succinct letter to Youzhou, quoting an old poem:

“May you worry less,
as green plums ripen beyond the western window.

Let the golden autumn rain pass,
so we may meet in joy and peace.”

Once the letter was sent, Tang Shen fell into deep thought, pondering Zhao Fu’s true intentions.

As Right Deputy Imperial Censor of the Silver Pull Division, it was only logical for him to be sent to assist Wang Zhen. Yet, the emperor had deliberately kept him in the capital while sending others in his stead.

As winter deepened and thick clouds hung over Shengjing, Tang Shen furrowed his brows.

The shifting tides of the imperial court meant little to common folk.

With the New Year approaching, Aunt Yao and Tang Huang had been busy stocking up on festival goods, decorating their home with couplets. On the sixteenth day of the twelfth lunar month, Yao San returned to Shengjing, bringing unexpected news:

“Little boss, the item you were looking for—it has been found in Liao!”

Tang Shen was astonished. “Truly?”

Yao San nodded. “Would I lie to you? At first, you said this material should be abundant in the north and might not even require venturing into Liao. But after searching for over a year, I never found enough of it—at most, only small amounts that were insufficient. I don’t understand why you need so much of it. The locals say it’s just a fuel source, mainly used for smelting iron. Is that really worth all this trouble?”

Tang Shen asked, “What do they call it?”

Yao San had long been accustomed to Tang Shen reading about something in ancient texts, not knowing its name, yet still insisting that he go and find it. He responded, “Locals refer to it as ‘graphite.’ It’s completely black and quite hard, but I don’t see why it’s so important.”

Tang Shen sighed in realization. “So, it’s called graphite… How fascinating.” He chuckled. “Its significance is something even I do not fully grasp yet. Perhaps, in my lifetime, it will remain nothing more than a tool for smelting iron. Or perhaps, it will one day be as precious as gold.”

Yao San was stunned. “That valuable?”

Tang Shen smiled. “This reminds me—when I first entered the court, I had a dream of the kind of official I wanted to become.”

Yao San, “Little boss, what kind of official do you want to be? A high-ranking one, like Minister Wang, a first-rank official?”

Tang Shen’s gaze gradually calmed, and he let out an exasperated laugh. “Like Wang Zifeng? The Senior Grand Secretary of the Left? Or like Right Prime Minister Wang Quan, the Left and Right Prime Ministers, wielding immense power? A first-rank official… I’ve never really thought about it. Who would have known that on the day I placed third in the imperial examination, as I rode a fine steed through Xuanwu Gate, my eyes landed on Yuan Mu, Yuan daren.”

Yao San, “Who is Yuan daren?”

Tang Shen replied earnestly, “Minister of Works, Yuan Mu, Yuan daren.”

Yao San was taken aback. “Little boss, the position you most desire is Minister of Works?”

“It was just a thought I once had. Once you enter the court, what you can do and what the future holds are no longer up to you. Is it fate? No—it’s the ruler who decides.”

As Tang Shen reminisced, lost in thought, five carriages entered the capital through the western gate.

The Fifth Prince, Zhao Ji, was the first to return.

On the 24th day of the twelfth lunar month, the Second Prince, Zhao Shang, also made the long journey back to Shengjing from Gusu.

That very day, Tang Shen feigned illness and stayed home, refusing all visitors.

The three princes, newly returned to the capital, were all anxious and uneasy, wary of making any rash moves. However, the emperor, absorbed in his prayers and Buddhist devotions, only met with them briefly. After asking a few casual questions—Have you been eating well? Staying warm?—he dismissed them without further concern.

The Fourth Prince, Zhao Jing, first visited Liu Quande, the Intendant of the Capital. As longtime friends, their meeting was natural and unremarkable. Using this visit as a test, Zhao Jing observed the emperor’s reaction. When Zhao Fu remained indifferent, he grew bolder and began visiting other officials. Seeing this, the other two princes also loosened their restraints, gradually reaching out to court figures.

By the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month, the night before New Year’s Eve, the emperor hosted a grand banquet in Yanchun Pavilion with his ministers.

On New Year’s Eve, the palace would hold a private family banquet attended only by the imperial clan. Thus, every year on the preceding night, the emperor dined with the officials in celebration.

Such a grand occasion left Tang Shen with no excuse to remain absent.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

As night fell, hundreds of carriages lined up outside the palace gates like a long, winding, dragon. Officials clad in their formal robes dismounted and proceeded on foot into the palace. Any official of fourth rank or higher, regardless of their post, was entitled to attend the banquet at Yanchun Pavilion.

Walking along, Tang Shen recognized a few familiar faces among the officials, but most were strangers to him.

Palace ladies lit the lanterns, and beneath their glow, the three princes entered Yanchun Pavilion, each surrounded by their own people.

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Since he had already taken leave, Tang Shen, dressed in his wrinkled official robe, fled back home in a panic.

Yao San had gone to Ningzhou a few days earlier to handle logistics for Baibao Pavilion, leaving only Tang Huang and Aunt Yao at home. Both were startled to see Tang Shen. Tang Huang asked, “Don’t you have to go to the office today, Brother?” She thought for a moment, “Isn’t today a workday?”

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Tang Shen brushed it off casually, “I had something to attend to, so I came back early.” But after taking a few steps, he suddenly turned back, “Aren’t you curious why I didn’t come home last night?”

Tang Huang smiled and countered, “Why should we be curious? Yesterday afternoon, Minister Wang sent someone to our house, saying you would be having a drink with him at the Minister Residence and would likely stay the night. Brother, it’s not like you haven’t slept at the Minister Residence before. What’s so strange about that?”

Tang Shen: “…”

Returning to his study, Tang Shen fumed, “You really had it all planned out, Wang Zifeng!”

Tang Shen couldn’t help but sigh, feeling that he might never outwit Wang Zifeng in this lifetime. Yet, his future was now irrevocably tied to the man. A pang of regret rose in his heart—was it too late to change his mind…?

Whether it was too late or not, Tang Shen didn’t know, but one thing was certain: he had no chance.

At this point, Tang Shen hadn’t considered that several high-ranking officials in the court had already guessed the nature of his relationship with Wang Zhen. Early the next morning, he went to court. Just after the court session ended, Chief Eunuch Ji Fu came to fetch him. Wang Zhen was busy talking with Right Prime Minister Wang Quan, but from a distance, he noticed Tang Shen being led away by Ji Fu, and a meaningful expression appeared on his face.

Wang Quan, seeing this, glanced at Tang Shen’s retreating figure and immediately understood, “Worried?”

Wang Zhen feigned surprise, “Worried about what?”

Wang Quan, “His Majesty wouldn’t summon Tang Jingze to Chuigong Hall for no reason. You publicly requested leave for him yesterday. I’ve already guessed it. If His Majesty asks around, he’ll probably figure it out too. Aren’t you afraid that when he meets His Majesty, he might say something wrong and provoke His Majesty?”

Wang Zhen smiled leisurely and countered, “Uncle, what do you think I like about him?”

“Oh, what?”

“He never needs me to worry about him. He is Tang Jingze. His current position isn’t truly dependent on me.”

Wang Quan was momentarily speechless.

Meanwhile, Tang Shen was led to Chuigong Hall. Along the way, he pondered why Zhao Fu wanted to see him. Was it about a new assignment related to the Silver Pull Division? Or perhaps about Second Prince Zhao Shang’s activities in Gusu, where he had interfered with the Military Silver Exchange Bank?

When he arrived at Chuigong Hall, Tang Shen bowed and remained silent. Unexpectedly, Zhao Fu also said nothing, simply smiling at him.

Ji Fu, standing nearby, was quite surprised.

Since the Empress Dowager’s passing, the Emperor had rarely been in such a mood. At this moment, Zhao Fu seemed to have regained some of his former vitality, no longer spending his days listening to the monk Shanting recite sutras or tapping his wooden fish, his intentions inscrutable.

Tang Shen felt Zhao Fu’s gaze on him and wondered what he had done to warrant such attention. However, since Zhao Fu remained silent, Tang Shen couldn’t speak first.

After a long while, Zhao Fu’s gentle voice finally broke the silence, “I recall Jing Ze came of age this year, didn’t you?”

Tang Shen, “Yes.”

“You’re already twenty. Why haven’t you married yet?”

Tang Shen’s heart skipped a beat. A possibility dawned on him, but he didn’t dare dwell on it.

Zhao Fu sighed deeply, “You all always make me worry! Fei Ran is already twenty-six and still shows no intention of marrying. Last month, I called him over and asked him about it. Guess what he said? He claimed there wasn’t a single woman in Shengjing worthy of his attention—not even my princess!”

Tang Shen was startled. He cautiously observed Zhao Fu’s expression. He believed Su Wenyun might dare to tell the emperor that he wasn’t marrying because he hadn’t found the right woman, but he doubted Su Wenyun would dare say that even a princess wasn’t good enough for him. This was likely Zhao Fu’s casual remark, but the fact that he said it in front of Tang Shen showed just how much he favored Su Wenyun.

“Jing De also worries me. His wife passed away last year. I suggested he remarry, but he said he already had an heir, so why bother?”

By now, Tang Shen understood what Zhao Fu was getting at. He kept his head bowed, wishing he could bury it in the floor tiles.

Zhao Fu leaned forward, resting his upper body on the table, and peered at the back of Tang Shen’s head with a mix of kindness and teasing, “So now I want to know, Jing Ze, why haven’t you married? And what about your senior brother? He’s already twenty-nine. Why hasn’t he married either?”

Tang Shen felt like his head was about to explode. He kept his head down and replied loudly, “I… I don’t know.”

Zhao Fu burst into laughter.

Tang Shen was at a loss.

After laughing, Zhao Fu looked at Tang Shen’s flustered expression, and a genuine fondness of an elder for the younger generation flickered in his eyes. He spoke earnestly, “Ten years ago, when I learned of Zi Feng’s preference, I was worried for him. I know Zi Feng’s character. If he truly loves someone, he would give them his heart and soul. What if he fell for a scoundrel? But now that I know it’s you, I’m at ease. I never thought that before I closed my eyes, I would see the two of you together. It’s a relief to have one less thing on my mind.”

Tang Shen looked up at Zhao Fu.

Zhao Fu waved his hand, “Since I’ve called you here and teased you, I naturally have a reward for you. It’s already been sent to the Minister Residence.”

Tang Shen bowed respectfully, “I thank Your Majesty for your grace.”

“You may go.”

As Tang Shen stepped out of Chuigong Hall, he paused for a moment before continuing forward. In the vast palace, a small figure in red walked steadily away from the heavy palace gates, his steps firm and resolute, showing no hesitation.

After Tang Shen left, Ji Fu stood quietly to the side, cautiously observing Zhao Fu.

Having served Zhao Fu for over fifty years, there were times when Ji Fu felt he understood this emperor, and other times when he was utterly baffled. For instance, just now, whether Zhao Fu’s words to Tang Shen were genuine or feigned, Ji Fu couldn’t tell. Ji Fu thought that Tang Jingze probably didn’t understand either. Even Wang Zifeng, if he were here, might only sigh and say, “The Emperor’s heart is inscrutable.”

However, Ji Fu had one advantage over Tang Shen and Wang Zhen. After Tang Shen left, the emperor caressed the warm celadon teacup and murmured as if to himself, “I like them even more now.”

Ji Fu memorized these words, planning to ponder them later.

The emperor had said that the imperial gifts had been sent to the Minister Residence, but Tang Shen had no intention of going to see them. When he left the Censorate that day, he spotted the sedan chair of the Senior Grand Secretary of the Left from the Department of State Affairs, a first-rank official, waiting at the gate. Tang daren glanced sideways at it, then walked past with his head held high, not even looking inside.

Wang Zhen stepped out of the carriage and called, “Jing Ze.”

Tang Shen ignored him and kept walking.

Wang daren sighed, “Still angry.”

In matters of strategy, it’s all about tension and release.

Wang daren, being a reasonable man, naturally wouldn’t add fuel to the fire. He gave Tang Shen two days to cool off.

However, on the third day, Fu Wei suddenly sent invitations to his two students, saying he had acquired a particularly fine painting and wanted them to come to his residence to appreciate it together. Tang Shen couldn’t refuse and had to go to the Fu Residence that night. When he arrived, Wang Zifeng was already seated in the flower hall.

Tang Shen kept his eyes down and silently sat down across from Wang Zhen.

Tang Shen, “Sir, where is the painting?”

Fu Wei, “The painting? Of course, there’s a painting. Wen Shu, go fetch the painting.”

Wen Shu immediately ran to the study and brought back a scroll. The painting wasn’t very long, and Wen Shu could hold it open with both hands. At first glance, Tang Shen was stunned, feeling a wave of confusion. But when he saw the seal at the end, he couldn’t help but laugh, “I never expected it to be a masterpiece by the Master of Insignificant Talent. Truly a fine painting.”

Fu Xiru, the Master of Insignificant Talent, stroked his beard and laughed, “Jing Ze has also noticed the brilliance of this painting. Excellent, excellent. You have a discerning eye. What do you think, Zi Feng?”

Tang Shen also glanced discreetly at Wang Zhen.

Wang Zhen’s gaze lingered on the painting for a moment, then he turned to Fu Wei and smiled, “Sir, how did you find out?”

Tang Shen was taken aback.

Fu Wei looked embarrassed, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

Wang Zhen, “His Majesty hasn’t summoned you to the palace recently, so it couldn’t have been him. You’re not close with Ji or Xu xianggong, so it couldn’t have been them either.” After a pause, Wang Zhen sighed, “So it was Second Uncle.”

Fu Wei: “…”

Tang Shen also suddenly understood: “…”

What kind of “bad news travels fast” is this!

The flower hall fell into silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, Fu Wei said, “Hai, I was just concerned about you two. What’s wrong with that! How could you plan to keep this from me? You’re both my students. How could you not tell your teacher about such an important matter? Is this proper etiquette? Is this proper conduct!”

Tang Shen thought to himself: My relationship with Wang Zifeng is the most improper thing of all!

Tang Shen, “It’s Jing Ze’s fault.”

Fu Wei immediately gained confidence and turned to scold Wang Zhen, “And you, why did you hide it from me? What were you thinking?”

Wang Zhen raised an eyebrow slightly, but after glancing at Tang Shen, who was bowing his head in apology, he smiled and also bowed, “This student was wrong.” Then he added, “This feels a bit like bowing to parents.” (TN: a step in marriage rites)

Fu Wei was stunned.

Tang Shen also didn’t react immediately, but when he did, he was furious, “Wang Zifeng!”

Wang Zhen laughed heartily.

Fu Wei, watching from the side, was even more stunned. He had never seen Wang Zifeng like this before. After a long while, he stroked his beard, feeling deeply gratified.

Soon, dinner was served, and the three of them ate at the residence. During the meal, Fu Wei chatted with them for a while, but being older, he soon retired to rest.

Tang Shen and Wang Zhen walked together through the garden of Fu Residence. Gradually, Tang Shen realized, “Are you taking me to the pond?”

Wang Zhen, “To be precise, little Junior Brother, it’s that pavilion.”

The two quickly passed through layers of bamboo and flowers, arriving at the pavilion. Five years ago, Tang Shen had followed the sound of a zither here and met the “page boy Fu Qin (TN: literally zither-playing boy).” That brief encounter had been unexpected, and neither of them could have imagined the present they were in now.

Tang Shen was moved by the familiar scene, filled with nostalgia.

Wang Zhen suddenly embraced him from behind. Tang Shen stiffened, about to move, when cool lips pressed against the exposed skin of his neck.

“Don’t move.”

Tang Shen held his breath, “Senior Brother…”

“Why don’t you call me Fu Qin anymore?”

Tang Shen was speechless.

Wang Zhen chuckled softly, “It’s been three days. Are you still angry with me?”

Tang Shen, “How could I dare be angry with Senior Brother?”

“Then you are angry. It’s been three days. In this lifetime, how many more sets of three days do I have to spare for you to be angry at me?”

Tang Shen was momentarily stunned. He thought Wang Zhen was referring to his age. In a way, this wasn’t wrong—Wang Zhen was nine years older than Tang Shen. Tang Shen had never considered this before, but now, hearing Wang Zhen’s despondent tone, he wondered if the man might actually feel some insecurity.

Tang Shen’s heart stirred, and he immediately grasped Wang Zhen’s hand, “Senior Brother, why would you think that? I’ve never thought that way.”

Wang Zhen said sadly, “Really? You’ve never thought that?”

Tang Shen replied urgently, “Really!”

“Then promise me you won’t be angry anymore.”

“Alright.”

Wang Zhen kissed him a few more times, then whispered, “In a few days, I’ll be going to Youzhou. The Silver Pull Division’s affairs need to move forward. Leaving it all to Qin Si alone isn’t feasible. Ah, little Junior Brother, life is already so short, and yet we’re busy with other matters, spending little time together. This trip to Youzhou will take at least a month. A month is ten sets of three days. How many more sets of three days do I have?”

Tang Shen suddenly understood, “Wait, when you said that earlier, was it because you’re going to Youzhou?”

Wang Zhen smiled, “Yes, what did you think I meant?”

Tang Shen: “…”

Without hesitation, Tang Shen elbowed Wang Zhen in the stomach. Wang Zifeng grunted in pain and let go.

Tang Shen strode away.

Wang Zhen said weakly, “It… it hurts. I think something’s bruised.”

Tang Shen didn’t even look back as he walked away.

Seeing that Tang Shen was already far away, Wang Zhen straightened up and sighed, “I went too far this time. Look, he doesn’t even care about me anymore.”

Soon after, Wang Zhen left Shengjing for Youzhou.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

In late November, three memorials arrived in Shengjing from three different locations. Normally, local memorials had to pass through Right Vice Minister Xu Bi before reaching the emperor’s desk. But this time was different. These three memorials were sent directly to Chuigong Hall, presented to the emperor as personal letters.

Zhao Fu opened the memorials and first said, “What is this pretentious, incoherent nonsense!” After saying this, he tossed the memorials onto the desk. But several hours later, he picked them up again to read.

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After entering the gate, Tang Shen saw that the entire ground was paved with broad, smooth granite.

He waited in the entrance hall for a while, but Wang Zhen was nowhere to be seen. Left with no other choice, he ventured into the garden.

Passing through the moon gate on the left, he was greeted by a vast, shimmering pond. The pond extended eastward, winding beneath small bridges. With nowhere else to go, Tang Shen followed the pond’s edge.

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The second courtyard bore a plaque with three words: “Drunken Moon Hall.”

No need to guess—it was Wang Zifeng’s own calligraphy. Tang Shen looked up at it for a moment and murmured, “Drunken by the moon, enchanted by flowers, I no longer serve the king.”

Fifteen minutes passed, and Wang Zhen still hadn’t appeared. Tang Shen searched the garden for a while, calling out, “Senior Brother, where are you?”

The Wang family estate in Jinling was enormous. Tang Shen had spent a day and a night there once and still hadn’t explored it all. But this Liuqi Courtyard was different—it was about a quarter the size of the Wang family’s estate. Wang Zhen, previously a second-rank official and now a first-rank one, was limited to a residence with three main halls and five bays. This Liuqi Courtyard naturally adhered to those restrictions.

Tang Shen quickly searched the entire estate but still couldn’t find Wang Zhen.

He suddenly realized that Wang Zifeng was playing hide-and-seek with him. Otherwise, how could he not find him?

Tang Shen was utterly exasperated and decided to stop searching. Instead, he found a stone bench in the garden and sat down.

“Aren’t you coming out?”

“Senior Brother?”

“Wang Zifeng!”

Suddenly, he heard the sound of grass being crushed underfoot behind him. Tang Shen turned around, but he was too slow. Wang Zhen covered his eyes with both hands from behind.

“Senior Brother…” Tang Shen said, startled.

Wang Zhen leaned down and whispered in Tang Shen’s ear, “I wanted to come out earlier, but seeing you search for me so eagerly and pretty, I couldn’t look away and stayed hidden a little longer.”

Tang Shen: “…”

He forcefully pulled Wang Zhen’s hands away, his face stern, but Wang Zhen burst into laughter.

Tang Shen pretended to be serious, “Since I opened up to Senior Brother, you’ve changed.”

Wang Zhen looked puzzled, “Opened up about what?”

“…Just opened up.”

Wang Zhen suddenly understood, “Opened up about your feelings for me?”

Tang Shen gritted his teeth, knowing he was no match for Wang Zifeng, so he reluctantly changed the subject. He feigned disdain and annoyance, “Senior Brother used to be like an immortal in my eyes, a celestial being from the moon palace, distant and unattainable. But now, Senior Brother keeps ruining that image. Where is the ethereal, otherworldly figure you once were?”

Wang Zhen sighed deeply, “So little Junior Brother liked me so much that he thought I was a celestial being. In that case, perhaps you fell for me first.” After a pause, he added with certainty, “It must be so.”

Tang Shen: “…”

Wang Zifeng, where did you learn this skill of twisting truth and lie, black and white?!

Seeing Tang Shen both angry and flustered, yet unable to find a good comeback, Wang Zhen was in high spirits. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around Tang Shen’s waist. Tang Shen patted his hands, and Wang Zhen asked in surprise, “What does little Junior Brother mean?”

Tang Shen, “I can walk on my own.”

Wang Zhen, “And sneak kisses on your own?”

Tang Shen: “…”

Tang Shen didn’t dare to say another word. Wang Zhen led him on a tour of the entire Liuqi Courtyard. When he first arrived, the sun was setting, and the sky was still light. By the time they finished their tour, the moon hung high, casting its silvery glow over the vast pond in the estate, creating a shimmering reflection.

“Jiangnan gardens emphasize changing scenery with every step. Little Junior Brother, being from Gusu, must be well-versed in this.”

Tang Shen came from a humble background and had never lived in a grand garden courtyard estate, but Liang Song had, so Tang Shen had some knowledge of it. Although Wang Zhen’s estate wasn’t large, every corner was meticulously designed, each view unique and thoughtfully arranged.

What was even more remarkable…

Tang Shen looked up at the plaque on the pavilion in the pond.

“Pushing Stones.”

Tang Shen, “Unable to bend the pines, I can only push the stones for now. Even these characters—were they written by Senior Brother yourself?”

Every courtyard, pavilion, and terrace in the entire Liuqi Courtyard bore Wang Zifeng’s calligraphy! His care and attention were evident everywhere.

Suddenly, Tang Shen understood what Liuqi Courtyard meant to Wang Zhen. But Wang Zhen said nothing about it. Instead, he took Tang Shen’s hand and led him to the Pushing Stones Pavilion. On the round table inside the pavilion were fine wines and dishes, all of Tang Shen’s favorites.

After they sat down, Wang Zhen said, “Little Junior Brother has already voiced the origin of this pavilion’s name. What about the others?”

Both of them had eidetic memories. Tang Shen closed his eyes and recalled the names of the other courtyards and pavilions. “The ‘Sleet Gate’—is it from ‘Without the sun and moon turning, sleet falls together’? The ‘Fragrant Cold Hall’—probably from ‘Bright and serene as the moon, its fragrance cold, not chasing the wind’…”

Tang Shen spoke each line carefully. Amidst the flowers and under the moon, with fine wine and a beloved companion, the gentle breeze stirred. Minister Wang hadn’t even drank any wine yet, but he was already intoxicated.

When Tang Shen finished, Wang Zhen said, “You got most of them right.”

Tang Shen was puzzled, “Was I wrong?”

Wang Zhen, “No, but you missed the most important one.”

Tang Shen thought for a long time, hesitating before finally remembering what he hadn’t mentioned. But after some consideration, he said, “The name ‘Liuqi Courtyard’—where does ‘Liuqi’ come from? It’s not hard to guess, but… why would Senior Brother use ‘Liuqi’ to name this estate?”

“The spring waters flow into the Qi River.”

It comes from The Book of Songs: Odes of Bei – Spring Waters.

The poem itself isn’t problematic—it’s a beautiful, melancholic piece about longing. But the issue is, the poem is about a woman from the state of Wei who married far from home and yearned for her homeland. Wang Zifeng, married far from home? Wang Zifeng, like the woman from Wei, filled with longing and sorrow?

Tang Shen shuddered.

…What kind of nonsense is this?!

Wang Zhen looked disheartened. He seemed to want to say something but couldn’t, so he let out a long sigh.

Seeing this, Tang Shen immediately understood that there must be a story behind the name “Liuqi.” He asked with concern, “What’s wrong, Senior Brother?”

“The name ‘Liuqi’ wasn’t chosen by me.”

“Huh?”

“You guessed correctly. How could I use ‘Liuqi’ to name this estate? It was Sir who named it.” Wang Zhen sighed nostalgically, “Over a decade ago, Sir heard I had built an estate and came to visit. He jokingly said, ‘The spring waters flow into the Qi River’. Zi Feng, you’re far from home, building this estate out of longing for your homeland. Such sincere feelings—let’s call it ‘Liuqi’!”

Wang Zhen looked at Tang Shen, “When an elder bestows a gift, one dare not refuse. How could I decline?”

Tang Shen thought to himself, if you really didn’t want it, what could Sir have done to you?

But Wang Zhen’s rare display of melancholy was too captivating. Tang Shen couldn’t look away, entranced by his beauty, and nodded vaguely.

Wang Zhen pointed to a large Taihu stone in the pond, “So a few months ago, I found a fine porous stone. I didn’t dare breathe a word about it, fearing Sir might see it. This stone still hasn’t been named. Would little Junior Brother like to name it?”

Tang Shen snapped out of his thoughts, “Me?”

Wang Zhen smiled, his joy radiating from within, making him appear even more cheerful and bright.

He asked gently, “Are you full?”

Tang Shen was taken aback and looked up at him. After a long moment, he said, “I’m full.”

Wang Zhen took his hand and led him through the winding corridors, walking above the shimmering pond, past the porous stone, and to a house by the pond. Half of the house was built over the water. Opening the windows revealed a vast expanse of water, blending with the sky in a sea of blue.

By the window was a long desk, filled with an array of brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

Wang Zhen led Tang Shen to the desk. He carefully spread out a sheet of rice paper and began grinding ink.

“Little Junior Brother, will you name it?”

Tang Shen looked at him for a while, then turned to gaze at the rugged Taihu stone through the window.

After a long time, he picked up a brush and wrote two characters.

“Warm Jade.”

The calligraphy was taught by Wang Zifeng himself. Though Tang Shen had developed his own style, the essence of Wang Zifeng’s influence was unmistakable.

Wang Zhen stared at the two characters, his heart stirred. He stopped grinding ink and looked up, “Where does ‘Warm Jade’ come from?”

Tang Shen looked at him and said slowly, “Thinking of the gentleman, warm as jade. In his wooden house… it stirs my heart.”

Wang Zhen stepped forward and embraced him tightly. He held Tang Shen in his arms, his voice soft, like the evening breeze brushing through the grass on a spring night, “You came here straight after leaving the office, still wearing your official robes.”

Tang Shen, “Senior Brother sent me a peony. I thought you had something to say to me.”

Wang Zhen chuckled lightly, “Official robes are inconvenient. Shall I help you change?”

Tang Shen’s fingers tightened. He remained silent. Wang Zhen took his hand and led him to the bed. He untied Tang Shen’s belt and removed his deep red official robe. As his hands moved to undo Tang Shen’s undershirt, Tang Shen grabbed his wrist.

Wang Zhen looked up at him.

“My heart is filled with many things—for Senior Brother, for many people.”

Wang Zhen gently kissed him, “But my heart holds only you.”

Tang Shen stared at Wang Zhen in a daze. Unconsciously, he released the hand that had been holding Wang Zhen back.

Outside the window, the pond’s water flowed, and the wind entered the bamboo house, scattering the clothes on the floor. The bed curtains had been drawn early by Wang Zhen. Throughout the night, the sounds of joy and pleasure never ceased.

The next day, before dawn, the steward of the Minister Residence stood outside the door, holding Wang Zhen’s court robes. Wang Zhen got up quietly, and Tang Shen woke with a start. He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his lower back. He hissed in pain—it hadn’t hurt much the night before, but now the ache was overwhelming.

Wang Zhen pressed his shoulders, gently pushing him back down, “Rest. I’ll request leave for you today.”

Tang Shen, still half-asleep, thought it would be just like a colleague helping him take a day off. Without overthinking, he nodded and drifted back to sleep.

Wang Zhen changed into his court robes and left for the morning court.

When Wang Zifeng arrived at Chongzheng Hall, no one thought anything was amiss. But then he told the chief eunuch, “Tang daren is unwell and won’t be attending court today”.

In the main hall, Right Prime Minister Wang Quan was the first to glance at Wang Zhen. The other officials didn’t react, but Left Prime Minister Ji Wengji overheard and murmured in surprise, “Is that so?” Soon, Right Vice Prime Minister Xu Bi also caught on.

Ordinary people wouldn’t read too much into a single sentence, but these seasoned officials, who had long suspected Wang Zhen’s inclinations, could read between the lines.

The matter was like a breeze rippling the surface of a lake—it caused a stir but quickly settled. Most people remained unaware.

However, Emperor Zhao Fu was no ordinary man. During the morning court, with Wang Zhen now a first-rank official standing closer to the throne, Zhao Fu could observe his every move. Surprised, he asked his chief eunuch, Ji Fu, after the court session, “Did you notice how radiant Wang Zifeng looked today? Quite different from usual.”

Ji Fu thought to himself, different? He looked the same as always.

But Ji Fu was shrewd. He inquired about Wang Zifeng’s activities that day and discovered he had requested leave on Tang Shen’s behalf. Ji Fu, unable to grasp the implications, reported this to Zhao Fu. Upon hearing this, Zhao Fu was stunned for a moment before saying, “Even I didn’t see it coming?”

By mid-morning, Tang Shen finally woke up.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

The room was already prepared with clean clothes, and his body also felt refreshed. Recalling the previous night, Tang Shen realized Wang Zhen had personally cleaned him. His face flushed, and he quickly dressed, hurrying to the Censorate.

As soon as Tang Shen arrived at the Censorate, the guard at the gate looked at him in surprise, “Tang daren, didn’t you request leave today?”

Tang Shen’s groggy mind stirred again as he remembered Wang Zhen’s words that morning.

In an instant, Tang Shen felt his vision darken.

…Wang! Zi! Feng!!!

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