The clouds blushed with sunset hues, casting a serene pallor over her face. A flicker of surprise passed through her eyes before she quickly composed herself, offering a faint smile. "I hadn't expected this."
Di Nian understood her implication and let out a self-mocking chuckle. "Who would guess, upon first meeting me, that I'm an orphan?"
Meng Tinghui fell silent, her heart stirred by his tone into a pang of sympathy. Yet upon reflection, though both were parentless, his circumstances were incomparably better than hers.
Hadn't the female officials mentioned how Di Nian enjoyed the emperor's deep favor, served as the crown prince's trusted confidant, and had close ties to the late Duke of Guo...
But if he were an orphan, how could he be connected to the Duke of Guo?
Her delicate brows arched slightly, eyes clouded with doubt. Though curious, she knew it wasn't her place to ask.
Di Nian cast her a sidelong glance. "Minister Meng must be wondering how an orphan like me received such imperial grace, while you had to endure ten years of rigorous study to earn your modest achievements?"
Meng Tinghui's lips curved, her expression noncommittal.
Di Nian laughed again. "I was raised in the old capital Suiyang. At four, I was adopted by Lady Qiao, who had long guarded the late Duke of Guo's tomb in the Western Gardens. In the spring of the eighteenth year of Qiande, when Northern Frontier sent envoys with tribute, the crown prince went to Suiyang to receive them on the emperor's behalf. He happened to meet me while paying respects at the Western Gardens."
Meng Tinghui listened intently. Though unfamiliar with these past events and the identity of "Lady Qiao," she began to grasp the situation. Softly, she asked, "So you returned to the capital with the crown prince?"
He nodded. "I was sixteen then. Having grown up playing with the tomb guards in the Western Gardens, I'd learned some horsemanship and archery. The crown prince asked if I wished to become as upright and heroic as the Duke of Guo. I said of course—my mother told me she named me to remind me never to forsake the Duke's loyalty to sovereign and country!"
She inclined her head slightly, moved by the conviction in his voice, as if this fervor had burned in his chest for years.
Di Nian paused before continuing, "Later, I accompanied the crown prince to the capital for an audience with the emperor and Prince Ping. The emperor told me how the Duke of Guo had also been an orphan, brought from Chuzhou to Suiyang by the previous emperor. Soon, he distinguished himself, crushing enemies and pacifying rebels on the battlefield to become a revered general. Though he ultimately died for his country, he earned the praise of all..."
Before he could finish, she sighed softly.
The late Duke of Guo, Di Feng—there was scarcely anyone in the realm who didn't know his name. Even after all these years, elders still spoke it often.
Having pored over historical records of previous dynasties these past months, she had grown particularly sensitive to that name.
Unyielding integrity, unwavering loyalty—fifteen years serving his sovereign, countless battles fought. A life bound to silver spears and iron swords, his bones turned to ash but his name echoing through eternity...
What manner of man must he have been, to deserve such countless scrolls and texts tirelessly recounting his every deed and merit?"...Prince Ping also said," Di Nian's voice drew her attention back, "that since the Duke of Wu had never married and left no descendants, and I too was an orphan who happened to be brought back to the capital by the Crown Prince, it must have been heaven's will. Thus, I was kept at the Palace Guard's inner hall training with other squads, receiving the same provisions and treatment as the sons of nobles. It was only three and a half years ago that I was sent to the Divine Guard Army for experience."
Meng Tinghui hadn't expected him to disclose his background so frankly, stirring complex feelings within her. Yet she quietly listened to his entire account without interrupting.
It stood to reason that during those years he had lived under the care of the Emperor and Prince Ping, his relationship with the Crown Prince must have been exceptionally close. This explained why he had dared to be so rude and bold towards Shen Zhili earlier, and why Shen Zhili had felt comfortable publicly rebuking him—such audacity could only come from years of intimate familiarity.
The horse shook its mane impatiently, its hooves scuffing the ground. Their progress had been slow, talking as they rode. By the time they glimpsed the golden eaves of the Horizontal Gate in the distance, ink-like darkness had already seeped into the horizon, and a slender moon had unknowingly risen before the towers.
Di Nian tugged the reins, guiding his horse toward the brightly lit areas, and smiled at her: "Minister Meng, unlike me, earned your position in the Imperial Academy entirely through your own efforts. Every woman serving as an official at court is profoundly learned and virtuous—truly admirable."
Meng Tinghui grew somewhat embarrassed. "Colonel Di flatters me. I merely had good fortune."
Di Nian looked at her. "When I returned to the capital yesterday and went drinking with Yanzhi last night, he mentioned you. He said you've been compiling local chronicles of the previous dynasty under Imperial Academician Fang Huai these past months, and the documents you submitted have earned the Crown Prince's appreciation. Your promotion likely isn't far off."
Sparks seemed to flash through her mind, her ears ringing as if she'd misheard. She pressed urgently: "What did you just say, Colonel Di?"
He turned to her, his eyes bright with the nearby lantern light. People near the Precious Ford Tower had spotted them and were hurriedly approaching to greet them.
Her voice softened abruptly, yet her gaze remained fixed on him: "You said the Crown Prince..."
Di Nian nodded, though his expression grew hesitant, as if surprised she hadn't known.
She lowered her head, both hands tightening on the saddle. The hazy night concealed the dimples forming at the corners of her smiling lips, but the lantern's warm glow made her face appear exceptionally gentle and lovely.
...He had read them. He had actually read them!
Those documents she had painstakingly prepared—Fang Huai had already presented them to him... Yet his icy demeanor in her presence had truly made her believe he remained completely unaware and indifferent to her modest efforts at the Imperial Academy.
Her spirits lifted instantly. When helped down from her horse, she whispered to Di Nian: "Thank you, Colonel Di."
Thinking she was thanking him for escorting her out, Di Nian smiled. "You're too polite, Minister Meng." Unaware that what she truly thanked him for was that unintentional remark.
Colorful lanterns glowed from tall buildings on both sides, while distant laughter and horse neighs echoed continuously. The night wind pierced through with its chill, yet no one felt cold.
·
After the mounted archery ceremony, the capital grew colder with each passing day.The first snow of the year arrived late, not blanketing the Great Within of the imperial city in silver until mid-November. The vibrant glazed tiles adorning the palace eaves, now overshadowed by the blinding snow, appeared dull in comparison.
A chill permeated the Eastern Palace, yet no one dared light the warming stoves. By tradition, the Crown Prince would only permit fires in his quarters after all halls and institutions within the Forbidden Palace had ignited their braziers and incense burners.
The long desk was bitingly cold, its surface covered with white paper, vermilion ink, and stacks of memorials half a foot thick.
A palace attendant knocked gently on the door and announced, "Your Highness, Academician Fang from the Imperial Academy has brought the registers."
Ying Gua did not look up, merely acknowledging with a low hum. His right hand dipped the brush in ink while his eyes remained fixed on the unfolded memorial before him.
The door opened and closed, letting in a gust of wind that swirled with snowflakes.
Fang Huai approached, placed the documents on the desk, and stood waiting nearby.
Ying Gua set down his brush, picked up a register, and flipped through it rapidly as usual before setting it aside for closer inspection during his leisure hours at night.
Several volumes were reviewed without issue, but when he reached the bottom one, his long fingers paused on a particular page. After a moment, he extracted several neatly folded sheets of thin xuan paper.
Expressionlessly, he unfolded them and immediately recognized the elegant, familiar small regular script. His brow furrowed tightly.
Given Meng Tinghui's rank, she was not permitted to submit memorials independently. He hadn't expected her to resort to such a method to convey her thoughts... but how had she known he would read these?
Clutching the papers, he turned his gaze to Fang Huai standing nearby and asked, "Have you already reviewed this?"
Fang Huai nodded. "I examine every document before presenting it to Your Highness, so yes, I have seen it."
Ying Gua's voice turned icy. "Why include this with the submission?"
Fang Huai remained silent, steadfastly gazing at the edge of the desk before him.
Ying Gua slowly lowered his eyes, scanning the contents of the papers. His expression darkened further. After sitting rigidly for a long while, he crumpled the sheets in his hand, picked up his brush to redip it in ink, and fiercely wrote several characters across Meng Tinghui's register. Then he threw down the brush, rose from the desk, and strode out, commanding, "Return this and have her rewrite it."
The door was flung open with a loud crash.
Only after watching Ying Gua descend the steps did Fang Huai relax his brow. Approaching the desk to collect the registers, he saw Meng Tinghui's volume now defaced with furious vermilion strokes—four glaring characters radiating wrath:
"Bold and Reckless Words."
By nightfall, frost coated the steps, and snowflakes had frozen into thin shards of ice that glittered coldly under the faint glow of palace lanterns in the courtyard.
From a distance, the row of icicles hanging from the rear wall of the Secretariat resembled tiny, sharp blades. The piercing night wind made the cold seem to seep into one's very soul, leaving no escape for those who merely gazed upon it.
Meng Tinghui emerged from the Imperial Academy, bundled only in a thick coat. The hem of her crimson official robe dragged through the snow, now half-soaked. Carrying a large book chest in one hand and clutching her collar with the other, she kept her eyes downcast as she hurried along.
Lights still shone from the Inner Capital Hall north of the transverse street. Shivering as she passed beneath the vermilion lacquered railings, her gaze involuntarily drifted toward it—
Purple python robes, golden insignia: entrants need not dismount, departures require ministerial carriages. How many more years must pass before she might have the chance to step through that red sandalwood door adorned with bamboo, peach blossoms, and gold lacquer...As she rounded a small bend, a bright palace lantern swung into view ahead.
She halted, shielding her sleeve to look, and saw it was a Yellow-robed Attendant with a familiar face, though she couldn't immediately recall where she'd seen him before.
The man bowed to her, "Minister Meng." Then he stepped aside, slightly raising the palace lantern toward the street corner.
Meng Tinghui followed his gesture and looked over. The palace bricks ahead appeared cold and blue, covered in patchy snow marks. A carriage stood at the end of the road, a thin yellow silk ribbon fluttering from the front of its canopy in the night breeze.
Understanding dawned instantly in her heart, but she said nothing. Instead, she took a small breath of the cold air, lowered her head, and walked toward the carriage.
The attendant walked ahead, discreetly extinguishing the flame in his palace lantern. The surroundings immediately darkened, with only faint light from the distant, still-lit Various Pavilions illuminating the path beneath her feet.
She reached the carriage, stood still, and called out, "Your Highness."
The thick felt curtain of the carriage stirred, lifted by someone inside. The interior was too dim to make out anything clearly, only vaguely discerning his figure, but his face remained completely obscured.
The attendant retreated to wait nearby.
After waiting a long while without hearing him speak, she took half a step closer, shivering from the cold as she said, "On such a freezing day, why has Your Highness left the palace to come find me here instead of attending to affairs?"
"Get in."
His tone betrayed neither joy nor anger, yet it inexplicably made her feel apprehensive.
She stamped the snow from her official boots, placed the book case in her hand on the carriage's front board, then carefully climbed inside.
The carriage interior was warm, clearly equipped with a heating stove. Having been thoroughly chilled earlier, the sudden warmth made her hands tremble uncontrollably. It took quite some time for her to gradually recover.
"Sit."
He spoke again.
She had been standing bent over, and only upon hearing his instruction did she feel her way to sit down, softly asking again, "What does Your Highness need from me?"
In the dimness, he watched her.
Though her complexion was unclear, he could still see her bright eyes, her red lips trembling slightly, and her hands shaking visibly within her sleeves.
He passed her a small hand warmer from beside him. Seeing it, she quietly took it and held it to her chest. Only after warming herself for a long while did her body stop shivering.
She suddenly smiled, "Since Your Highness has come to reprimand me, why bother letting me warm up first? Just scold me outright, so as not to waste Your Highness's time."
He said calmly, "If you knew I came to question you, why put on an act earlier with all your questions?"
She bowed her head in silence, holding the warmer as if she might comfortably doze off at any moment. The bun at the back of her head looked precarious, with several strands of hair softly curling against her neck.
He sat there motionless, watching her.
He knew she worked diligently in the Imperial Academy, never leaving early each day. So he had waited here for her since three quarters past the hour of you, only to hear from the Yellow-robed Attendant that she had finally emerged after the hour of xu.
That book case in front of the carriage was so large—who knew what it contained? From the looks of it, she must have been planning to continue working by lamplight after returning to her quarters.
Never mind among female officials at court—even among the ordinary scholars of the Imperial Academy and its various halls, who else would work themselves so relentlessly?
But for whom, exactly, was she putting on such a show of diligence?Her voice seeped out from the crook of her arm, low and faint: "This brazier has nearly burned out—Your Highness must have been waiting here for quite some time. Yet after waiting so long, you remain silent. What is it you truly intend?"
He could tell she was weary, yet his resolve only hardened. He reached out directly, spreading his palm open before her.
She lifted her head slightly, her gaze settling on the shredded paper scraps in his hand. Her expression froze for a moment before she blinked and said, "Your Highness has read it?"
But no reply came from him.
She straightened up, tilting her head to study him. In the dimly lit carriage, he sat rigidly upright. The faint light filtering through the curtain gently brushed the side of his face, making his heterochromatic eyes appear particularly intimidating. With his handsome forehead and thin lips, his stern expression made her heart tighten abruptly.
"Don’t play tricks in front of me," he finally spoke, his large hand closing tightly again, his voice cold and soft. "What a remarkable 'Refutation of the Border Expansion Strategy.' You, a mere sixth-rank Compiler, dare to recklessly discuss the policies of the Central Secretariat?"
Her lips curved slightly. "I fear this humble document of mine has voiced what the senior officials of the Imperial Academy wished to say but were unwilling to express. Otherwise, Grand Academician Fang Huai would not have forwarded it for Your Highness to read."
His gaze toward her was like an eagle eyeing its prey, sharp and ruthless. "The trade between the northern prefectures and the Northern Frontier was decreed by His Majesty. Shen Zhishu’s appointment to Qing Province to reorganize the military defenses of the strongholds along the northern border was personally approved by His Majesty. As for the inefficiency in the administration of the Chaoan Pacification Commission—what does that have to do with border expansion? You repeatedly claim to act for the state and the people, arguing against rash military actions and opposing aggression toward the Northern Frontier under the pretext of expansion. Let me ask you: when has the court ever spoken of launching a military campaign?"
Unfazed, she met his gaze directly. "Your Highness is correct—everything was decreed or approved by His Majesty. Yet who among the civil and military officials does not know that these were all Your Highness’s ideas? The officials of the Chaoan North Circuit Military Command are largely veterans of the Eastern Faction, especially within the military, many of whom have earned merits in the past. Their roots are deeply intertwined with the senior Eastern Faction officials at court—how could Your Highness expect to move them so easily? The northern border has become a virtual mini-court, content with its isolated peace. Who would wish to take up arms again? Even I can discern Your Highness’s true intentions toward the Northern Frontier, let alone the seasoned officials of the Two Bureaus and Three Commissions."
He leaned forward, hands braced on his knees, and let out a cold laugh. "From your tone, it sounds as though you agree with the court’s intention to launch a campaign against the Northern Frontier. But if that is the case, what is the meaning of this document of yours? Isn’t this a contradiction?"
They were so close she could see the fine lines at the corners of his mouth. She was momentarily stunned, then lowered her lashes and said softly, "This document was never intended for Your Highness to read."
He frowned, not immediately grasping her meaning. "What did you say?"
Her head still bowed, her eyes fixed absently on the brazier she held, her voice remained quiet. "I said, that document was never meant for Your Highness to read."
He had never seen her display such deference in his presence before. Stunned, he recalled her earlier words and seemed to understand. Fingering the paper scraps thoughtfully, he said, "You wrote this specifically for Fang Huai to see?"
She remained silent, sitting quietly before him.A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but his mind raced swiftly. After a long pause, he furrowed his brow and asked her in a low voice, "You know that the faction of public criticism, led by the old ministers of the Imperial Academy, opposes the court raising troops. So, you deliberately wrote this policy proposal for Fang Huai to see, hoping to win his favor and trust?"
She nodded, then shook her head. "All the female scholars of my cohort were personally selected by Your Highness. Though we are considered disciples of the Son of Heaven, compared to the Emperor and Prince Ping, our ties to Your Highness are naturally closer. Once Your Highness ascends the throne and governs, we will undoubtedly become the pillars among the young talents in the court, relied upon by Your Highness. Your Highness is determined to forge ahead, yet the political views of the senior ministers often clash with Your Highness's intentions, and Your Highness's plans may not meet their approval. If I wish to stand out in the Imperial Academy, I must find a way to show the academicians and officials that I stand on their side. Does Your Highness understand?"
He remained silent, but inwardly, his thoughts surged like turbulent waters, stirring deeply.
When he had read her policy essay during the day, he had been consumed with rage, but he had forgotten the look Fang Huai had given him and had not considered how she could be so bold.
She lifted her gaze to him and spoke again, "However, the purpose of my policy essay does not end there."
Meeting her eyes, he still said nothing.
She continued, "Regardless of Your Highness's true intentions, every action taken so far has aroused suspicion among the senior court officials that Your Highness intends to take action against the Northern Frontier. Lord Shen has only recently arrived in Qing Province and is unfamiliar with the land and its people. It would be difficult for him to assist Your Highness in reorganizing the military affairs of the northern strongholds in a short time. Moreover, the old ministers in the court will not stand idly by while Your Highness's people make major moves in Chao'an—they will surely hinder Lord Shen behind the scenes. Though the senior ministers of the Imperial Academy do not voice it openly, every one of them is watching to see what Your Highness's next move will be. My policy essay can be considered an overstep of my duties. If Your Highness does not wish the senior ministers to glimpse your intentions, why not take this opportunity to reprimand me openly? Deduct my salary, demote my rank—do as Your Highness sees fit. This will show the senior ministers that Your Highness truly has no intention of raising troops against the Northern Frontier. As for how Lord Shen conducts himself in Qing Province, it will no longer appear to be under Your Highness's direct orders. Even if suspicions arise again, no one will dare voice them openly in court."
Her words were spoken slowly, her voice soft, yet they left his expression cold and stern, his entire body radiating a fierce intensity.
He had assumed that in her months at the Imperial Academy, she had done little more than read histories and compile records. He had not expected her to be so perceptive, able to see the court's dynamics so clearly and to understand how to interpret his intentions so well.
When he had bestowed such honors upon her, he had considered that one day she might be of use. But he had never imagined that she, a mere female top scholar and a lowly sixth-rank Hanlin Academy Compiler, still unsteady in her position at court, would already pave the way and offer herself up for him to use.
He leaned back, fixing his gaze on her, and said coolly, "So, it seems you are in favor of the court raising troops?"
She continued to look at him, her brow twitching slightly before she lowered her gaze and replied, "Whether troops are raised or not is not my concern. My only concern is Your Highness's will."His back stiffened, his entire body growing rigid. Before he could fully process the situation, he heard her voice drop as she continued, "If Your Highness intends to raise an army, I shall pray for the court to raise an army; if Your Highness detests warfare, I shall pray for peace throughout the land."
After speaking, she pressed her lips together and quietly awaited his response.
He understood her words clearly. A sudden twitch pulsed at his temple, and a vague understanding stirred in his heart—though he refused to dwell on it. His chest felt as if blocked by something, his breath catching slightly. After a long pause, he finally spoke again, his tone detached: "You are indeed loyal. But have you considered what would become of your standing in the Imperial Academy if I were to reprimand you and dock your pay this time?"
She suddenly smiled, and when she looked up at him again, her eyes sparkled as if the brilliant stars of the night sky had been mirrored in her pupils. "I fear that the harsher Your Highness punishes me this time, the more favorably the senior officials of the Imperial Academy will regard me. By the end of next spring's evaluation period, they will surely submit petitions recommending me. Even if Your Highness were unwilling ten thousand times over, you would have no choice but to promote me then."
He was left speechless.
What a Meng Tinghui... What a woman she was.
While reading those thin sheets of paper, he had never imagined the intricate calculations hidden behind her actions—even those who had served in court for years likely couldn't match her shrewdness.
Since Fang Huai had witnessed him reading her policy proposal, remaining indifferent would appear overly deliberate and unnatural. Others would only grow more convinced that he harbored intentions to launch a military campaign against the Northern Frontier...
Only severely punishing her would align with ordinary expectations.
But to punish her—could he possibly charge her with defying authority or admonishing the court against military action? Preposterous! Naturally, he must punish her for uttering reckless words, while emphasizing that neither he nor the court had any intention of invading the Northern Frontier.
...In the end, this still played right into her hands.
He sat there, thoughts churning endlessly, until he finally sighed inwardly.
He truly could not afford to underestimate her.
"Your Highness."
Hearing no response from him after a long while, she called out softly again.
Snapping back to reality, he met her gaze—warm and gentle as a clear spring, stirring something unfamiliar within him. An inexplicable restlessness surged, and he replied coldly, "Get out of the carriage."
She understood his mood perfectly, asking no further questions about his intentions. Obediently, she placed the hand warmer she held back beside him, rubbed her fingertips, and lifted the curtain to step out of the carriage.
Once she steadied herself outside, she bent to pick up the book chest from the footboard. But as she turned to leave, his deep voice halted her, commanding her to stop.
She turned back, and before she could see clearly, a warm, black-feathered cloak descended over her head, enveloping her completely.
The Yellow-robed Attendant hurried over, boarded the carriage, and the curtain fell shut abruptly.
The slender yellow silk ribbons hanging before the carriage fluttered and rustled in the night wind, gradually fading from view as the carriage sped away into the dim light.
She stood there dazed, only snapping back to her senses when the carriage rounded the street corner and vanished from sight. Her free hand—the one not holding the book chest—instinctively tightened around the cloak draped over her.
The air was filled with his pleasant scent.
She had no idea how long she remained standing there when snow began to fall again. Tiny snowflakes spiraled down, one brushing coolly against her cheek, finally jolting her back to awareness.
OpenNovel