Pei Zhaoye propped his chin on one hand, his gaze falling upon her slender, fair fingers.

“But if you insist I try it,” he said lazily, “it’s not impossible.”

Lizhu turned her head—just in time to see him lean in close, the silver ring at his tongue’s tip brushing her fingertip with a moist, heated touch, light yet lingering.

The warm flesh of his tongue barely, almost imperceptibly, wrapped around her finger. He tilted his head slightly, the veins on his pale neck faintly visible.

Straightening, he looked at the stunned Lizhu, the corners of his lips curving into a smile.

“Not bad. Thank you for the treat, Princess.”

Lizhu drew her fingers back, face flushing red in disbelief.

Beneath the thread of moonlight stretched across the deep-blue sky, the two returned to the government office. Lizhu ordered the lamps to be filled with oil, rolled up her sleeves, and prepared to work in earnest.

Two days later, a song titled “Ode to Golden Kinship” was completed—both lyrics and melody.

The singers and dancers of the Pei residence had only ever practiced tender and lingering tunes. It was their first time receiving such a piece, and when they heard the story behind it, they were deeply moved.

All the women promised Lizhu that they would give their utmost for the sake of such a righteous heroine.

At the same time, the memorial sent from Yiling Commandery to the imperial palace of Luoyang finally reached Emperor Mingzhao’s desk.

“…Yungong, have you read this memorial? Could it be that the officials below are deliberately exaggerating, slandering Princess Qinghe?”

Inside the hall, the white smoke of aloeswood incense curled in the air.

Emperor Mingzhao, in a wooden hairpin and a Daoist robe, sat with his eyes closed in meditation—yet his brows were tightly knit, clearly troubled.

Kneeling to the left, Tan Jing took the memorial passed to him by attendant Luo Feng. His calm, lake-like eyes quickly swept over the black ink characters.

After a moment, he set the memorial down and said:

“I dare not deceive Your Majesty. A few days ago, my unworthy son also mentioned in his letter home that Princess Qinghe had become overly close with the Hongye Stronghold.”

Emperor Mingzhao slowly opened his eyes.

“Yet in the letter the Princess sent to the palace reporting her safety, she made no mention of this. She only said she and Yuhui had agreed to dissolve their betrothal. I wrote back, instructing her to return as soon as possible, but she has yet to reply.”

The hall fell silent for a while before Emperor Mingzhao spoke again:

“Princess Qinghe has never been an arrogant or willful child. Why then would she interfere in Yiling’s affairs, even to the point of causing the commandery’s subordinate officials to collectively resign? Yungong, what do you think?”

Tan Jing pondered for a moment.

“The Princess has always been gentle, dignified, and serene. Naturally, she would not act rashly or without reason. It is only that she is still young, and outside the palace there are many with sinister motives. All know that the Princess is Your Majesty’s treasured pearl, it is only natural that some would harbor ill intent.”

“…You mean that so-called Hongye Stronghold?”

Emperor Mingzhao’s expression hardened as he looked toward the attendant at his side.

“Luo Feng, last time I recall I had you make some inquiries—any results?”

“The very thing I was about to report to Your Majesty.”

The smooth-faced eunuch spoke softly:

“I had the maid ask relatives in Hezhou to inquire, and she did indeed hear something rather extraordinary. That Hongye Stronghold holds great power around Hezhou, and even traffics in illicit salt…”

“Trafficking illicit salt!”

Emperor Mingzhao suddenly raised his voice.

“Good, very good! Such a rebel, and no one told me! He even dares to bewitch my Princess Qinghe—what does he want? Rebellion? Dog thief, I will annihilate his nine clans!”

Having cultivated the Way for many years, the Emperor seldom showed such fury; the palace servants in the hall knelt everywhere.

Tan Jing likewise bowed his head deeply.

Luo Feng said, “May Your Majesty calm your anger. Now Jiangzhou is not peaceful; there are many urgent matters awaiting Your Majesty’s decision. Your Majesty must not let anger harm your health.”

Emperor Mingzhao calmed somewhat from his fury.

Luo Feng was right.

In the Yanshan area of Jiangzhou rebels were stirring; the Xue clan was also frequently active. It was plainly the time for troops, how could men be spared to suppress bandits?

Moreover, what was more pressing now was…

“Your Majesty, I have heard that the matter of the Yiling commandery officials resigning has already spread through the court. To prevent Princess Qinghe from becoming the target of arrows, Your Majesty should quickly placate the ministers and quell the public opinion.”

These words struck at Emperor Mingzhao’s heart.

Those civil officials were the most troublesome, each wielding a pen; a few splashes of ink and even the emperor could be overwhelmed, let alone a princess.

Emperor Mingzhao immediately ordered Luo Feng to prepare an edict. For now, the only plan was to demote and reprimand the princess, issue rewards to the Yiling officials, and thus appease the ministers’ rage——

“……Wait.”

Emperor Mingzhao suddenly called out.

The edict was half written when Luo Feng halted his brush.

Emperor Mingzhao frowned deeply, and at that moment he thought of the letter Lizhu had written to him.

Aside from describing the landscapes she had seen along the way, the letter also investigated the people’s livelihood and the water transport of Yiling commandery.

At the end she had written that she would spare no effort on this journey to contribute to the family and state, that the journey would not be in vain, and she hoped her father the Emperor would trust her.

His Lin’er, though frail in temperament, was not dull-witted.

Though she had never mentioned her dealings with Hongye Stronghold in the letter, could it be that she had her own considerations?

At that moment, Emperor Mingzhao almost turned over in his mind every academic accomplishment she had shown since childhood.

The praises of the Grand Preceptor.

The admonitory memorials she had written—childish yet earnest.

Emperor Mingzhao’s fingers rested on the edict, tapping it slowly for a long time.

“Put it away. Wait a few more days.”

Luo Feng voiced no objection and complied at once.

Not far away, Tan Jing’s eyes were calm and deep as he looked on.

Emperor Mingzhao turned and said to him:

“The criticisms of the Princess in court—try to suppress them for a few days, Yungong. I trouble you with this. The Princess is young and willful, and her betrothal has fallen through. I ask you to be more understanding.”

Tan Jing said, “Your Majesty overpraises. This minister is unworthy and ill at ease. My unfilial son is crude in temperament and unfit to serve the Princess. After careful thought, dissolving the engagement is but Your Majesty’s great benevolence and magnanimity.”

The two exchanged polite courtesies—there is no need to dwell on that.

In truth, Emperor Mingzhao was quite curious as to what exactly Lizhu had done to make Tan Xun, who had admired her since childhood, take the initiative to withdraw from the marriage.

But that could only be asked in detail once she returned home.

As he was leaving, Tan Jing mentioned that he had not seen his younger sister for several months and wished to visit her. Emperor Mingzhao naturally did not refuse, telling him to convey his greetings to the Empress as well.

Tan Jing agreed.

Passing through the corridor lined with guards every ten steps, the Empress’s Changqiu Palace was already in sight. The palace attendants were about to announce his arrival, but Tan Jing stopped them.

There was laughter from within the hall.

Tan Jing lifted the bamboo curtain and saw a fine-featured eunuch combing the Empress Tan’s hair.

As he combed, he smiled brightly and whispered to her. The Empress had her eyes half closed, the faintest hint of a smile lingering on her lips.

“Lord Minister of State—”

The eunuch finally noticed Tan Jing’s figure. His face went pale, and he hastily knelt down.

Empress Tan slowly lifted her eyelids.

“Brother, you come here without letting anyone announce you, bursting in like this—are you not afraid you might see something you shouldn’t…”

Pa!

A sharp, resounding slap exploded across the eunuch’s face.

The Empress’s expression changed instantly, and she rose abruptly to her feet.

“Tan Yungong! This is Changqiu Palace, you insolent!”

“Get out.”

Tan Jing spat these two words coldly.

The eunuch scrambled away, rolling on the ground.

When only the two siblings remained in the inner chamber, Tan Jing smoothed his sleeves, lowered his head and stood solemnly, expressionless:

“This slap, he took it for the Empress.”

Empress Tan’s chest heaved, her eyes spitting fire: “You are a subject, I am a sovereign, I am the Empress—”

“There is no Empress in the world who would hire assassins to kill a princess.”

Tan Jing coldly glared at the sudden, frozen fury on her face.

“Tan Xuanrong, if you do not want to be Empress, the Tan family still has many young and beautiful girls who can be Empress. Do you know how much trouble you have caused by flying into a rage this once?”

Empress Tan stared at him, and after a long while drew a sneer of contempt: “Tan Yungong, timid and cautious, always looking before you leap. If I were a man, would the Tan family have room for you to speak?”

Tan Jing was unmoved: “You are not as clever as you imagine.”

“Am I not?”

Empress Tan said leisurely:

“The Yiling officials resigned; the court censors at home are nearly worn bald from writing; tomorrow at court, these memorials alone could crush people to death. Even if the Emperor favors this daughter, won’t he still have to write an edict to sharply reprimand her? Let me guess, reduce her fief? Or imprison her for years?”

The middle-aged scholar with stern features watched her quietly.

“I said it before: you are far too self-important. Do you not know that if the Princess Qinghe were born a man, the court would absolutely not allow your son any voice?”

The smile drained from Empress Tan’s face; her eyes grew dark as a ghost.

“You better pray that Princess Qinghe cannot withstand this. Otherwise, if the Yiling officials turn to her, and Yiling Commandery falls entirely into her hands, you and your son will both be finished sooner or later.”

Tan Jing’s emotionless eyes swept across her face.

He turned, stepped in the exact footsteps he had taken entering, and walked out without a hair’s breadth of deviation.

Sounds of things being thrown and smashed came from inside the hall.