That brat Jing Cong had broken the kite he had given Jing Mu, causing Jing Mu to be punished by Emperor Qianning—and even receive board strikes.
Upon hearing the news, Shu Changyu, who had just returned from the western outskirts exhausted, did not even have time to drink a cup of tea before pacing back and forth in the hall. He immediately turned to head into the palace.
Qing’an quickly stepped forward and grabbed him. “Where is Young Master going? The palace gates are already locked. Curfew is in half an hour!”
Shu Changyu paused, only then remembering that he was no longer the all-powerful prime minister who could enter and leave the palace like his own backyard.
His hands behind his back clenched into fists. He turned and sat back down on the couch.
Qing’an hurried to pour him tea, comforting him. “Young Master need not worry. You can see the Second Highness tomorrow.”
Shu Changyu paused at that, then frowned slightly. “Worry? I’m not worried.”
He truly wasn’t. After all, what had already happened had happened. The emperor had already been angered, Jing Mu had already been punished, and the matter had already settled.
Yet something still pressed tightly in his chest, making him restless and unable to sit or stand properly, with no way to relieve it.
After a moment, he steadied himself.
In his previous life, although he had committed countless wrongs and harmed countless people, he had uniquely protected the useless boy on the throne.
That little emperor was three years younger than him and had long passed the “useful puppet” age. When he was in his twenties, ministers with ambitions of serving the country all dreamed of restoring imperial power. But Shu Changyu’s authority was overwhelming, and the emperor himself was mud that could not be shaped. Those ministers were suppressed so thoroughly they could not even turn over, many ending in ruin.
And among Shu Changyu’s own followers, some also developed forbidden thoughts. The emperor was growing older and would eventually have his own ideas. Keeping him on the throne was unsafe. Since there would inevitably be trouble if things dragged on, why not imitate Yi Yin and replace the emperor with another ruler?
Shu Changyu understood this logic perfectly, yet he personally suppressed all such movements without mercy.
That emperor was his bottom line. He would rather betray the world than consciously shield that young emperor beneath his wings.
Because he alone felt guilt toward that person.
His decade of tyranny in the previous life had made his temperament domineering. Thinking of this, his anger rose further. In both lives, he had never once laid a hand on Jing Mu, protecting him thoroughly—and yet those people—how dare they!
Shu Changyu took a sip of tea and silently marked them down in his mind.
The next day after court, he went straight toward Zhongli Palace. When he reached the side gate leading to the inner palace, he stopped again.
Jing Mu had just been punished and naturally should not be attending lessons. But if he did not go, Shu Changyu still felt an uneasy concern.
Yet if he went just because of this small matter, then that foolish boy who centered his entire world on him would surely become overjoyed again. Thinking of that, Shu Changyu became unwilling to go.
While he stood there in internal conflict, a palace maid called out to him from ahead.
“Lord Shu?”
He looked up and saw a familiar maid holding something, standing a few steps away and smiling sweetly.
“Servant greets Lord Shu!” She quickly bowed, then stepped closer warmly. “Are you heading to Zhongli Palace? His Highness has been waiting for you inside for a long time!”
Shu Changyu paused, then awkwardly curved his lips and walked forward. “I seem to have forgotten something, but I can’t recall what. It’s fine. Let’s go.”
This maid was the same one who had been at the entrance of Luming Palace the day Jing Mu was poisoned and had helped summon the imperial physician.
She quickly followed behind him, smiling. “This servant never had the chance to thank you, Lord Shu. I was originally assigned to sweeping duties, but after that day, I was transferred by His Majesty to serve the Second Highness.”
In the palace, serving a master was naturally far easier. Shu Changyu smiled faintly. “Why thank me? I should thank you for calling the imperial physician that day. You saved His Highness.”
The maid smiled shyly.
“What is your name?” Shu Changyu asked.
“Replying to my lord, this servant is Silk Ribbon. It is a name bestowed by the Second Highness.”
“‘Jade is adorned like a tree of height, ten thousand strands hang like green silk ribbons.’ Jing Mu gave you a good name,” Shu Changyu said.
“Yes!” Silk Ribbon replied. “His Highness said this verse himself when naming me. He said someone likes willow trees, and since it is the season when willows sprout, he gave me this name.”
Shu Changyu paused slightly.
Someone who likes willow trees…?
But soon he returned to himself. Although he did like willow trees, he had never shown it in front of Jing Mu in his previous life, and in this life they had barely interacted.
Thinking this, Shu Changyu silently concluded—he must be overthinking it.
Trying to steer the topic away from Jing Mu, he smiled and asked, “Since His Highness gave you this name, he must value you greatly? Are you serving in the main hall now?”
“Not yet,” Silk Ribbon said cheerfully. “Originally I was going to be assigned there, but a few days ago His Highness took a liking to the palace maid, Camellia, from the Emperor’s residence, so he requested her instead and replaced me.”
Shu Changyu froze slightly. “Took a liking to a palace maid?”
This is getting strange.
In his previous life, Jing Mu had been famously indifferent to desire—especially uninterested in beauty. Even after ascending the throne, the harem remained empty. No matter how others advised him, he never agreed.
Yet now he had actually taken a palace maid?
Shu Changyu frowned deeply.