Chapter Nine

Qingwu followed the Emperor’s lead, skimming through the blueprints. "Is Father trying to send me away?"

She traced her fingertips over the rough cowhide paper, a suffocating tightness rising in her chest. Her eyes grew hot and damp, though she could not name the feeling.

"What are you saying?" Emperor Minghui, seeing her on the verge of tears, hurriedly explained, "Huangzhou is your aunt’s ancestral home; I want you to go there and guard it well."

"When the time comes, you must return to fetch your father and lay me to rest beside your aunt." He paused, as if speaking to himself. "I have owed my sister too much in this life; only by descending into the earth can I make amends."

Hearing this, Qingwu could no longer hold back. Tears spilled from her eyes, but she refused to let the Emperor see, bowing her head so low her chin nearly touched her chest.

Emperor Minghui patted her head. "What are you fretting about now?"

With red-rimmed eyes, Qingwu asked in a trembling, hushed voice, "Is there unrest in the Southern Border? Are we going to lose?"

"You certainly know how to worry." The Emperor turned his pat into a light tap, devoid of any real force. "I am but a mortal man; how could I possibly live forever?"

Moreover, the events of ten years ago had already drained his spirit. As old friends departed one by one, he found himself longing for release.

Qingwu eyed him with lingering suspicion, but his expression did not seem like deception. He even teased her, "Besides, if a princess does not take her husband to her fief after marriage, the memorials impeaching Rongzhao would surely drown me."

*Husband, husband! Always talking about a husband, as if you can't wait to marry me off!*

Qingwu pouted in dissatisfaction, though she dared only think these words.

She had established her own residence before reaching her coming-of-age ceremony, which was already a breach of ancestral tradition. If she were to remain willful regarding the choice of a husband, it would only burden the father who loved her so dearly; thus, she had always avoided the topic.

A father knows his child best. Emperor Minghui, seeing through her, laughed, "Does Rongzhao not have someone she likes yet?"

Qingwu turned her head away and gave a heavy sniff.

Emperor Minghui teased her, "Hasn't Rongzhao been constantly hovering around a certain young gentleman lately? You call that not liking him?"

Qingwu grabbed a clean goat-hair brush from the stand and stabbed it at the desk, shaking her head to cast out the face that had begun to emerge in her mind.

"And you don't even bring him for your father to vet. Truly, a daughter grown is no longer under her father's control." The Emperor looked at her flustered state, his smile filled with doting affection.

"He..." Qingwu stammered.

*I only just caught him yesterday; I hope he doesn't cause any more trouble.*

The Emperor spoke as if it were a casual remark, not pressing the matter. In this regard, he was more tolerant than the parents of ordinary families. "The fief is far from the capital. Since you are fond of that young man, take him with you. Get away from the strife and enjoy your freedom."

Finding the Emperor’s chatter tiresome, Qingwu held out her hands before him, cutting off his lingering fixation on the topic of Pei Muci.

"Out of money again?" The Emperor slapped her palms, pushing her meddling hands away.

Qingwu simply straightened up, kneeling on the dragon throne to look more imposing. "My gift! Where is my birthday gift?"

Her coming-of-age ceremony was still days away. She was merely reminding the Emperor not to forget her birthday present, yet to her surprise, Emperor Minghui picked up a small chime hammer from the table and struck the bell twice.

*Ding, ding—*

The ethereal sound drifted outside the hall, creating a light, lingering echo. Yunting led three attendants in, straining together to lift a wooden chest onto the dais.

The chest, long enough to hold a person, had clearly not seen the light of day for some time. There was a faint scent of dust from a storage room, yet its exterior was exquisite and elegant, revealing the deep affection its original owner had held for it.

"This is what your aunt left for you." Emperor Minghui stopped Hanyue and Ningchun as they moved to open it. "These are a woman's belongings; Rongzhao, take them back to your fief and look at them in private."

Hanyue took the key and stood with the others who had carried the chest.

"The Imperial Kitchen has prepared dinner. Will you stay and eat with your father, Rongzhao?" The Emperor had been busy with state affairs for days, and his meals were usually arranged by Yunting and delivered to the Zhongyi Hall.

"No! My carriage is still waiting for me outside." Assuming the Emperor had not prepared a separate gift and unwilling to show him any favor, Qingwu stomped toward the steps, pouting.

"Is it the carriage waiting, or is there someone waiting for you?" Emperor Minghui chuckled, intentionally goading her.

She happened to reach the wooden chest as she heard this and, in a fit of pique, kicked it.

*Thump!*

A piercing pain shot through her ankle, but the chest did not budge in the slightest.

Qingwu could not help but glance back at the box. What exactly had her aunt left behind? Why was it so heavy?

She signaled for Hanyue to come over, but the girl stood rooted to the spot, taking a long moment to react.

"What are you doing?" Qingwu eyed her suspiciously and ordered her to have the men carry the items to the carriage.

Without further thought, she led Ningchun out without looking back, her voice echoing into the hall from a distance: "Don't think you can get away with not preparing a gift for me, Father!"

When had the Emperor ever been silenced like this?

The attendants all knew that Emperor Minghui was at his most easygoing when with the Princess.

Even the usually cautious Yunting smiled, his head bowed. "The Princess has a good heart; she loves to laugh and play, and she’ll never suffer a loss wherever she goes."

"Indeed," Emperor Minghui replied, though it sounded more like a long sigh, his tone heavy with unspoken worry.

He watched her skipping figure until that bright splash of color vanished at the end of the vermillion corridor.

Sensing the shift in the Emperor’s mood, Yunting immediately dismissed the attendants serving in the hall.

The Emperor rewarded them with a few gold coins, then collapsed back onto the dragon throne, his body feeling heavy. He muttered, "Enough."

Then, as if having reached a decision, he shook his head with a melancholy expression. "I must send Rongzhao away quickly."

"But the Princess may not be willing to go to the fief so obediently," Yunting said, standing quietly by the desk to grind ink.

He had been in the palace offices since he was young, had read a few books, and knew how to read and write; he knew something of that old matter that no one dared to mention.

But he would not speak of it lightly, nor let it be known to everyone.

The Emperor valued Yunting and was willing to promote him precisely because he knew how to exercise discretion and handle matters reliably.

In court, one could know a person's face but not their heart, yet this current plan required someone he could trust implicitly to execute it.

The Emperor personally picked up the fallen goat-hair brush and said thoughtfully, "Go and summon Du Jin to see me."

Yunting had never expected the person the Emperor had in mind to be Du Jin; he stood stunned, unable to react for a moment.

The Emperor added, "Whether he is willing or not, tie him up and bring him to me if you must."

—

No sooner had Qingwu’s party stepped out of Zhongyi Hall than Yunting sent a nimble young eunuch to the Princess’s residence to deliver the message.

Du Jin seemed to know why Emperor Minghui had summoned him; he said nothing more and followed them into the carriage to the palace without resistance.

"Your Majesty, Young Master Du will arrive shortly."

Hearing the news, the Emperor’s heart finally settled. Sleepiness began to wash over his eyelids in waves, and he waved away those remaining in the hall, retreating to the inner chamber to rest on the daybed.

Yunting took an exquisite, hollow-carved dragon box, sprinkled some sedative incense powder into the waist-high incense burner, and gave instructions to the palace guards outside before turning to pursue the party delivering the gifts to the Princess’s residence.

The wooden chest contained items of immense value; it would be a disaster if they happened to encounter someone bold enough to steal them.

He had to see the party safely out of the palace to be at ease, and if possible, perhaps see her once more...

But when Yunting rushed out of Zhongyi Hall and scanned his surroundings, there was no sign of Hanyue.

With a chest that heavy, they could not have traveled far. He stood at the foot of the stairs, craning his neck and standing on tiptoe, trying to catch a glimpse of them.

The palace buildings had countless blind spots, and the vermillion walls stretched endlessly ahead, merging with the vast sky into a blurred line.

Trying to find a few people in this massive palace was like looking for a needle in the ocean.

He felt a pang of self-reproach and lowered his head, suddenly meeting a sinister gaze.

The man was wearing a brand-new round-collared jacket with his hat brim pulled low. From Yunting's angle, he could only see those hollow eyes.

Strangely, his eyes were mostly gray, bloodshot whites with tiny black irises, and he looked as ominous as a molting vulture.

"Master," Yunting called out with a trembling voice. A chill washed over him from head to toe, and even his lips began to shake.

The old eunuch paused briefly at the foot of the stairs, then turned and left immediately, clearly not wanting to disturb those in the hall.

Yunting gritted his teeth and followed.

The two walked along the palace path, one after the other, with Yunting maintaining a respectful distance of three or four steps.

He kept his hands folded over his abdomen, though his spine was not hunched like that of an ordinary young eunuch.

Inevitably, they encountered palace maids serving the Emperor along the corridor; he spoke to them with his usual composure, then hurried to catch up with the old eunuch, leading him to a desolate, abandoned hall.

"I hear you have been quite favored by His Majesty lately," the old eunuch suddenly turned, his sinister face looming large. His voice was hoarse, as if he were swallowing phlegm, carrying a chilling tone.

He had thought this boy was honest and dependable, which was why he had sent him to the Emperor, yet he had proven to be so eager to stand out that in just a few days, he was already serving in the Emperor’s bedchamber.

At these words, Yunting knelt straight down. With a loud *thump*, countless small stones pierced his knees, and he could barely keep his balance from the pain.

"My place cannot keep someone like you." The old eunuch spat toward a pile of wood nearby, looking down at his disloyal apprentice.

He was calculating how many times he had been deceived by this little beast’s facade of innocence.

There were faint footsteps approaching in the distance, but the old eunuch did not lower his voice; instead, he cursed even more viciously.

The servants passing by dared not come near this area, but that did not stop them from pricking up their ears to listen to the spectacle.

News in the palace traveled fast; soon, everything that happened here would become the talk of the town for every palace.

Yunting knelt with his legs at a right angle, yet his upper body remained as straight as a cedar in the frost, his brow and eyes showing not a hint of weakness despite the humiliation he endured.