Consort Hui had been living quite comfortably these past few days.
Litchi from Lingnan had just come into season. Officials in the south packed them in ice and transported them to Zhaojing. Consort Hui had always been Emperor Qian Ning’s most favored consort, and among the litchi sent into the harem, a large portion went straight to her palace.
Consort Hui did not actually like eating litchi. In particular, eating too much of it caused internal heat, which was quite troublesome. Yet placed in a white jade plate on the table, simply sitting there made her happy, like a decorative object.
Are these litchi? No. These are imperial favor, piled up in her palace in abundance.
In addition, a few days ago, she had brought back to the palace the son of Consort Yun, who had been killed by the Empress. She also brought up old grievances and exposed the Empress’s role in Consort Yun’s death before the emperor. Although the Empress pushed the blame onto servants and executed two old palace maids to settle the matter, she was still shaken, and it caused significant friction between the emperor and empress.
Thinking of this, Consort Hui felt everything was going smoothly, and life was becoming more and more pleasant.
At that moment, the palace maid who was escorting the Fourth Prince Jing Kuang back from lessons led him over the threshold into the main hall.
Seeing Jing Kuang enter, Consort Hui immediately smiled brightly and waved him over. “Kuang’er is back from lessons? Come to mother.” As she spoke, she reached for the litchi on the table. “Your father sent mother litchi. I’ll peel one for you.”
Jing Kuang walked over properly and respectfully bowed before taking the litchi from her hand.
At only ten years old, his features already faintly resembled Emperor Qian Ning. Among the princes, he was the one who most resembled the emperor—almost a copy of him. This was Consort Hui’s greatest pride, and the reason she paid special attention to this eldest son.
“Today I studied the Book of Documents,” Jing Kuang said after eating the litchi. “I will recite it for Mother.”
“You recite that for me? I wouldn’t understand a word,” Consort Hui said dismissively, taking another litchi from the jade plate. “Next time your father comes, recite it for your father instead.”
At that moment, a child’s crying sounded from outside.
Consort Hui immediately felt a headache coming on. She tossed the half-peeled litchi back into the plate and wiped her hands with a handkerchief. “Go see what your younger brother is crying about. Always playing around—nothing like how obedient you were as a child.”
Jing Kuang obediently acknowledged and went out.
Consort Hui glanced at the litchi again and lost interest completely, pushing the plate away with a hum. The child’s crying continued intermittently outside, so she ordered a maid to open the window and see what was happening.
The window had just been opened when, before the children could even be seen, her personal maid Xiuzhi hurried inside.
“Your Majesty, good news!” Xiuzhi said, unable to suppress her excitement as she bowed.
“What are you being mysterious for? Speak,” Consort Hui said. “What happened?”
“The Empress secretly sent members of her family to Yanmenguan to look for General Shu,” Xiuzhi said in a low voice. “Perhaps because Shu Sanlang has entered court, she intends to use this opportunity to win over the Shu family?”
Consort Hui frowned upon hearing this.
“So that vixen finally can’t sit still anymore?”
“They didn’t even get to see General Shu,” Xiuzhi continued with a smile. “Our informant in the Jia household said General Shu’s guards told them: don’t come again. Whenever they come, General Shu will have no time to see them.”
Consort Hui laughed out loud.
“As expected of that old stubborn man—completely unyielding. Annoying as he is, there are times when being unyielding is useful.”
Then she asked, “Where is the Empress now?”
Xiuzhi covered her mouth and smiled. “When I came here, the Empress was on her way to see His Majesty!”
Consort Hui laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. “That vixen really is desperate!”
—
When the Empress placed the personally prepared lotus seed and bird’s nest soup beside Emperor Qian Ning, he was reading and did not even lift his eyes.
“You have been working hard for the realm, Your Majesty. You should also take care of your health,” the Empress said gently. “If Your Majesty is tired, please rest your eyes.”
The emperor gave a faint “mn.”
From his expression, the Empress immediately knew his mood was not good. Her heart stirred, and she guessed the reason.
“I heard Your Majesty has appointed Shu Sanlang to an official post?” she asked carefully.
Indeed, the emperor looked at her.
“Yesterday I was slightly drunk and appointed him as a ministry director,” he said.
The Empress understood immediately and smiled inwardly.
Between emperor and empress, though not ordinary husband and wife, there was still an understanding of each other’s thoughts. She knew the emperor very well.
This matter must have been something he regretted after a drunken impulse.
The Empress pretended not to notice the underlying meaning and said, “The Shu family has been generals for generations and has never produced a civil official. Now that Shu Changyu has emerged, he will inevitably gain support in court.”
These words struck right at the emperor’s concerns.
Indeed, that was what he had been worrying about since morning. The Shu family already held great military power; fortunately, they were only military officials and thus easier to control. But now Shu Changyu had entered court, become top scholar, and been appointed as a ministry director at only eighteen—his future was limitless.
If in another ten years Shu Changyu rose to overwhelming power while the Shu family guarded the northern frontier, what then?
Thus, during court today, the emperor had been distracted, repeatedly observing Shu Changyu. But Shu Changyu’s rank was still too low, seated far back and blocked by officials, making it impossible to read his expression.
At that moment, the emperor suddenly thought: if ten years later this man stood in a position where he could see my expression clearly, would I then be constrained by him in every word and action?
The more he thought, the more uneasy he became.
Seeing this, the Empress added, “However, I also have some concerns. Shu Sanlang has the entire Shu family behind him. If this man is cunning, he must not be heavily trusted. The former emperor always advocated moderation—if the Shu family becomes too powerful, the balance of court will be broken.”
The emperor nodded.
Then he suddenly thought—
Based on Shu Changyu’s timid, dull nature and his obsession with river engineering, how could he possibly be a cunning, dangerous man?
Thinking this, much of the emperor’s worry dissipated.
What the emperor did not know was that Shu Changyu himself, now in the Ministry of Works, was completely unaware of all this.
Minister Qian, knowing his background, intended to win him over and generously handed him full responsibility for the profitable road repair project.
Shu Changyu, who in his previous life had controlled the empire’s treasury and did not care for such small favors, still maintained a respectful demeanor. He thanked Qian Rubin and half-reluctantly agreed to attend a dinner with colleagues that evening.
He had always disliked such social obligations. Only after becoming Chancellor in his previous life had he been spared them. Now that he had started over, he could not avoid them.
By the time the banquet ended that night, Shu Changyu was already slightly drunk. Stepping out of Minister Qian’s residence, the cold night wind made him dizzy. Qing Qing hurried to drape a cloak over him and helped him into the carriage.
Inside the rocking carriage, the alcohol fully rose. In his hazy drunken state, fragments of his past and present swirled before his eyes.
He had deliberately ignored Lu Ming Palace that day, but could not push it out of his mind. In his previous life as well, the tea in Lu Ming Palace was always cold, and the snacks on the table had been left there for who knew how long, hard and unpalatable.
He told himself Jing Mu was merely timid and foolish, responsible for his own suffering. But now, in his drunkenness, he felt injustice for him—why, among so many foolish people in the world, was Jing Mu the only one treated this way?
Thinking this, he felt a vague grievance.
In his previous life, Shu Changyu would secretly pack pastries in his book box—today osmanthus cakes, tomorrow cloud cakes—and bring them to the child. Ordinary noble children grew tired of such things, but that boy’s eyes would light up every time he saw them. Usually expressionless and wooden, he only showed a hint of youthfulness at those moments.
Thinking of that, Shu Changyu’s earlier irritation turned into faint joy. Leaning against the carriage, he drifted off to sleep.
He was woken by Qing Qing, then walked unsteadily back inside.
Sitting down, he tilted his head and began to fall asleep again. Qing Qing quickly steadied him and sent servants to bring sobering soup.
Half-awake, Shu Changyu instinctively straightened his posture even while drunk. Then his eyes landed on a plate of jade-green bean cakes.
In his previous life, Jing Mu had loved this snack.
He stared at it motionlessly.
Qing Qing came forward. “Young master must be hungry. Shall I—”
“Don’t move.”
His voice was low and slightly hoarse, carrying an inexplicable authority.
Qing Qing froze.
Then he saw their young master, face and neck flushed red from alcohol, sitting upright with a solemn expression.
He lifted his chin slightly and ordered:
“Wrap them up. Put them in my book box.”
“…Ah?”
“Hurry up.” His tone was cold and commanding.
Author’s Note:
Before drinking: “That brat is unworthy of discussion!”
After drinking: “This one, this one, and this one—my Jing Mu likes them. Pack them all up.”