The night had deepened into complete darkness, with no candles lit in the inner chamber, leaving the bed shrouded in shadow.
The early summer night still carried a chill, and exposed skin felt cool. After their passion, the sweat had long dried, leaving purple robes and red skirts tangled together in disarray, strewn haphazardly across the floor.
In her ears, his light, deep breaths echoed—low, resonant, and powerful, each one stirring the lingering tides of desire within her.
Nestled in the crook of his arm, her body limp as mud, it took a long while for her to recover slightly. Struggling, she pushed herself up, removed the half-undone garments from her body, then turned him over before stepping down naked to search for the official robes and skirts he had torn and tossed aside.
Faint light from palace lanterns seeped in from outside, illuminating the cold, hard tiles along the way.
In the dim twilight, she did not light a candle but bent down beside the vermilion clothing stand, groping for the crimson inner garments, waist wraps, and skirts. One by one, she shook them out and began to dress.
Her hips and thighs ached intensely; with the slightest lift of her knee, it felt as if she were being torn apart below.
Breathing lightly, she steadied herself before tremblingly fastening the official robe’s clasps. Then she crouched to search the floor for the rhinoceros belt, her long hair cascading like a waterfall, swaying against her smooth, bare calves.
Though her body ached so, a warm current seemed to spread within her heart.
She never looked back, knowing he must still be awake, and aware that their earlier passion had not fully satisfied him. Had it not been for his pity on her inexperience, he would not have relented so quickly, leaving himself still burning and unrelieved.
After searching the floor for what felt like an age, her fingertips had just brushed the edge of the rhinoceros belt when long arms wrapped around her from behind. A warmth touched her ear—his lips pressing close.
Evading him, she reached for the belt, saying, "Your Highness…"
But he pressed down on her hand, his lips kissing her cheek, his voice cool: "Did I permit you to leave the chamber?"
She stilled, replying, "Your subject has been in the Eastern Palace for over two hours. The palace attendants outside and the Junior Palace Attendants by Your Highness’s side are all aware. If I delay further, I fear rumors will spread again in tomorrow’s court."
"Since you know this," his hand slipped inside her official robe, "you should not have crouched here, arching your waist and hips to tempt me."
At his touch, her skin ignited as if set aflame, burning fiercely into her bones and flesh.
A slight tremble ran through her, color flooding her cheeks as she bit her lip. "Your subject did not mean to tempt Your Highness…" Only at his words did she realize how provocative her earlier crouching posture must have been.
His lips pressed against the base of her ear. "The moment I see you in this official robe, I want to strip you bare and press you beneath me."
His words were intensely stimulating; her ears burned as if on fire, astonished that beneath his cool, restrained exterior lay such a fiery, consuming nature.
Noting her slight tension, he chuckled lowly, lifted her, and carried her back. "The night has only just begun. Do you intend to parade your tattered robes and skirts outside for all the Great Within, the Forbidden Palace, and every department to see? Wait a little longer; once the lanterns in the various pavilions are extinguished, I will let you go."
She had no choice but to comply. Once he set her down by the bed, she hurried to the low table on the other side, fumbling to light the palace candle. Turning back, she saw his displeased expression and quickly explained, "If those outside see that not even a candle is lit in Your Highness’s chamber, would it not be most improper?"As she spoke, a casual sweep of her hand sent a memorial on the low table clattering to the floor.
Her gaze drifted over it and she recognized it as a joint petition from several senior officials of the Secretariat. Catching fragments about the former Chancellor’s prolonged absence, she understood immediately. After a moment’s thought, she looked up and said to him, "The former Chancellor has been convalescing at his residence for quite some time. Has Your Highness considered personally inviting him back to court? After all, the Wang Qi case has been concluded, and the former Chancellor’s position in the Secretariat is too crucial to remain vacant indefinitely."
He watched her without a word, his face flickering in the candlelight, emotions unreadable.
She continued, "Although I do not know why Your Highness originally transferred Cao Jing to the Censorate, he demonstrated considerable integrity in the Wei Mingxian affair. I venture to request—might Your Highness consider reassigning him to the Chancellery to fill my former position as Admonishing Remonstrator of the Left?"
Suddenly, he pulled her into an embrace and said leisurely, "You’ve only just reached the fourth-rank position, and already you’re trading official posts and currying favor?"
The bluntness of his words sent a chill through her.
She looked up at him, finding his expression inscrutable, his gaze cold and faintly intimidating—nothing like the passionate man who had kissed her so ardently before.
After a long pause, she lowered her head. "That was not my intention."
He replied, "If you hadn’t promised him a promotion, Cao Jing would never have dared to be the first to impeach Wei Mingxian." After a pause, he added, "First, you visited the Censorate, then the Imperial Academy. You even managed to persuade Fang Huai. You truly are remarkable."
Though held in his arms, his words sent a shiver down her spine.
His tone was neither entirely accusatory nor wholly approving—half probing, half warning. Huang Bo had reported her movements to him, and with his keen intellect, how could he not know what she had done? Her official position, her carriage, her residence—all were bestowed by him. Every action she took outside was enabled by her reputation as the Crown Prince’s favored confidante. He was right: had she not promised Cao Jing a promotion that night, he would never have risked impeaching Wei Mingxian. And the only reason Cao Jing trusted her was because her favored status was widely known.
Though he treated her so well, granting her rewards and titles beyond precedent, and showed tender consideration in moments of intimacy, he would not tolerate the slightest overstep in matters of governance.
He might label her a sycophant, but he would not allow her to truly act like one, currying favor to seek appointments. This was his way of making her understand: everything she received was because he willed it. If she presumed to claim credit and demand rewards, she would be overstepping.
The thought brought a sudden ache to her heart. Softly, she said, "I have no intention of disrespecting Your Highness."
Anyone well-read in history knew that the fates of those labeled sycophants and treacherous ministers in the annals were entirely subject to the emperor’s whims of favor and wrath. His kindness to her today was because he desired it. If one day he no longer wished to treat her well, how could she possibly protect her position—or even her life?
In the span of a single night, his abrupt shift from warmth to coldness left her disoriented and fearful.
Though he had not yet ascended the throne, the weight of imperial suspicion was already palpable, yanking her abruptly from the earlier tides of tenderness.
In the end, he was still a cold, unfeeling man.
He studied her for a long time, then slowly tightened his arms around her. "Very well. I grant your request. Cao Jing shall be transferred to fill the position of Admonishing Remonstrator of the Left."
Frowning slightly in surprise, she looked up, puzzled by his sudden change in tone. "Your Highness?"He pressed her head against his chest and said in a low voice, "If you could think less, it would make things much easier for me."
She murmured softly, "Your servant is not overthinking. Your servant simply cannot fathom Your Highness." Reaching out to touch his left chest, she added quietly, "Your servant does not know what more to do to truly satisfy Your Highness’s heart."
Yet he replied, "You have already done well."
She lifted her eyes to him, "But Your Highness clearly reproached your servant for overstepping earlier."
His long fingers combed through the hair cascading down her back, "You did overstep, yet I am satisfied."
She remained motionless in his embrace, her gaze following the flickering flame of the palace candle by the bed. After a long silence, she spoke again, "Your servant suddenly recalls a dog raised in the nunnery during my childhood. When first rescued, it was quite wild. The rescuer tied it to the base of a wall, sometimes feeding it well, other times starving it for days. After several such cycles, the dog gradually understood and became obedient in that person’s presence. The rescuer then tasked it with guarding the nunnery courtyard at night. Since it could eat well with every meal, it gladly put on a fierce appearance at the gate to ward off villains. It thought it could enjoy food and comfort till old age, but little did it know that years later, outsiders would poison, slaughter, and cook it. The one who had rescued and raised it did not seem overly grieved, merely treating it as the loss of a watchdog and soon finding another stray to raise."
As he listened, his gaze gradually turned cold.
She caught her breath and continued, "Your servant now feels somewhat like that dog." Turning her face to meet his eyes, she whispered, "But your servant differs from that dog in one way. Your servant thinks, if I were that dog, even if destined to be slaughtered and cooked, I would wish nothing more than to offer my flesh and bones onto the plate of the one who rescued me, letting that person eat my meat, drink my bone broth, and rest upon my fur."
His expression abruptly darkened with anger, and he tightened his grip around her waist.
Her delicate brows lifted slightly, fearless as she said, "Your servant loves Your Highness to this extent—why should you be angered?"
Before he could respond, she struggled free from his embrace, gathered her robes, and stepped down from the bed, her voice slightly choked, "Your servant has never feared Your Highness’s anger. Your servant knows well that my affection is insignificant in Your Highness’s eyes. I do not hope for Your Highness to reciprocate with genuine feelings—I only wish for Your Highness to trust me and not doubt me."
Her eyes fell upon the disheveled purple robes and red skirts on the bed, and she added, "Since Your Highness suspects your servant of overstepping my position, I ought to wear ordinary attire at Your Highness’s enthronement ceremony. After all, this ceremonial robe has been sullied by me tonight—how could I have the face to wear it into the Purple Star Hall?"
Leaning against the headboard, he watched her with profound, unreadable eyes.
That sharply handsome face was both irresistibly alluring and chillingly stern, stirring in her a constant yearning mingled with deep-seated insecurity. How much more must she do? What more must she offer? Devoting her heart, her emotions, her very body, her entire life—yet it still fell short... Unable to decipher his heart or voice her own feelings, lost in understanding herself and failing to read him.
She lowered her head deeply, as if only this could conceal the thick disappointment in her heart, and said merely, "Since Your Highness has no instructions, your servant will take her leave." Then, swiftly offering a shallow bow, she hurried barefoot into the outer chamber to gather her skirts, trousers, and official boots. Hastily pulling them on, she pushed the door open and walked out.
The palace steps stretched long and high, shadows overlapping, appearing even more desolate under the night’s candlelight.
She should not have been like this.She had always greeted him with a smile, never causing trouble. Even when she occasionally acted provocatively, it was mostly in playful jest. Never before had she been so emotionally charged and unrestrained, speaking such willful words in front of him as she did tonight.
Had a taste of his tenderness made her so ungrateful... She shook her head, then gently nodded. The corners of her eyes stung from the wind, moist with unshed tears.
As soon as she passed the Horizontal Gate in front of the Proclamation Tower, she saw Huang Bo waiting on horseback.
Her hastily tied hair was disheveled, and her official robes and skirt were in disarray. She had already drawn sidelong glances from palace maids and eunuchs along the way. Seeing Huang Bo now only heightened her discomfort. Without even lifting her eyelids, she boarded the carriage and said, "Let's return."
Huang Bo urged his horse forward and cautiously asked from outside, "Minister Meng, did everything go smoothly?"
She let out a faint, noncommittal hum.
Huang Bo chuckled brightly and asked again, "Is the Crown Prince well?"
Sitting dazed in the carriage, it took her a long moment to reply, "Well."
The Crown Prince... how could he not be well? He held the world in his grasp, balancing the power among his ministers. There was nothing in this world he could not calculate or utilize, and no one could rival his profound and unfathomable imperial tactics.
She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion.
If there was anyone in this world who could love him more than she did, if there was anyone more willing to bear the name of a sycophantic favorite, she would gladly step aside.
·
A month later, an edict was issued, formally informing the Chief Administrators and civil and military officials of the protocols for the abdication and enthronement ceremonies. Once the order of precedence for all ranks was established, another decree was announced to the entire court, appointing Meng Tinghui, the Right Advisory Official and Hall of Scholarly Profundity Academician-in-Waiting, as the Leading Official for the Crown Prince’s enthronement ceremony.
The uproar in the court went without saying. Even the common people in the major prefectures and counties around the capital were astonished when they saw the court gazette.
According to etiquette, Meng Tinghui should have submitted a memorial to decline such an honor. Yet, to everyone’s surprise, three days later, she only submitted a memorial of gratitude, accepting the prestigious appointment without a hint of shame.
Public criticism surged, and the high-ranking officials grew increasingly dissatisfied with her. On multiple occasions, they openly expressed their disdain and refused to stand alongside her in court to show their indignation. However, before half a month had passed, it was heard that Cao Jing, the Investigating Censor of the Censorate, had been promoted to Admonishing Remonstrator of the Left in the Chancellery, filling the vacancy left by Meng Tinghui’s promotion. Rumors in the Forbidden Palace suggested that Cao Jing’s promotion was recommended by Meng Tinghui to the Crown Prince. Moreover, Cao Jing had not submitted any memorials criticizing Meng Tinghui for her disregard of propriety. As a result, everyone believed that Cao Jing was aligned with Meng Tinghui, and newly appointed officials in the court sought to curry favor with her in pursuit of glory and wealth.
That night, before leaving the Eastern Palace, although she had casually refused to wear the ceremonial robes for the enthronement, the palace still delivered the attire to the Meng residence and presented it to her more than half a month before the ceremony.
It was the Crown Prince’s wish, and no one dared to disobey.
The crimson and purple robes, along with the red gauze skirt, were even more magnificent than they had been that night. Each piece was clean and smooth, as if newly made, with golden patterns added to the collars and sleeves. Along with the robes came a beaded crown, rhinoceros-horn hairpins, gold and silver floral ornaments, and even hair supports—items typically forbidden for female officials to wear at court—were conspicuously included. All were adorned with palace gold and pearls, each one dazzlingly brilliant.
Meng Tinghui accepted everything without hesitation, expressing gratitude for the imperial favor. Her lack of refusal left the palace officials who delivered the attire utterly astonished. The next day, they relayed the incident to the gossipmongers in the court, sparking another wave of heated public discussion.The day of the Emperor's abdication and the Crown Prince's ascension drew nearer, stirring fervent anticipation among the capital's populace. All eagerly awaited the new sovereign's policies and the grand ceremony's promised tax reductions. Among capital officials, exchanged invitations and mutual courtesies flourished, each seeking to forge alliances at the dawn of the new reign.
Yet within the Meng residence, an aura of aloof indifference prevailed. None could discern Meng Tinghui's intentions for the future.
·
On the day of the ceremony, before the third watch had passed, servants in the Meng household rose to light lamps and prepare for Meng Tinghui's entry into the palace.
The sky remained unlit, night at its deepest, the firmament like an ink-black canopy smothering all traces of light and color.
A maid knocked gently with washing supplies, receiving no response. She slipped inside to rouse her mistress, only to find Meng Tinghui trembling by the bedside, drenched in cold sweat.
"Lady Meng..." The maid flustered, fumbling for the tinderbox to relight the lamp.
Meng Tinghui frowned weakly. "It's nothing. I caught a chill last night—my stomach churns unbearably..."
The maid touched her forehead and gasped at the scorching heat. "How can you enter the palace like this? We must send word to—"
"Must I be dead to miss the palace?" Meng Tinghui rasped, pallid as she sat up. She gestured for her robes. "Dress me with extra care today."
The maid bit her lip, fetching the garments while murmuring, "In midsummer's heat, how could you take chill? What if it's some swift pestilence? This cannot be ignored!"
Meng Tinghui lacked the strength to scold. She closed her eyes, enduring the maid's ministrations—being dressed, hastily cleansed, then seated for hair and crown.
Never one for rouge, today a touch of crimson on her ashen cheeks lent her the deceptive bloom of another, obscuring the truth within.
·
By the time ceremonial robes were fully donned and she boarded her carriage, dawn tinged the sky.
Huang Bo waited anxiously outside, urging her aboard. Only when curtains fell did he notice her ailment. "Are you unwell, Lady Meng?"
Beaded with sweat, she insisted, "All is well. Hasten the carriage—the Court of Imperial Sacrifices and Censorate officials must already be lined up outside Deshou Palace."
They raced through streets, reaching the palace gates as news came: The Emperor had departed Deshou Palace, twin whips cracking, imperial guards and retinue escorting him to the throne for the abdication rite.
Meng Tinghui hurried to the vermilion steps below Purple Star Hall, finding the Minister of Imperial Sacrifices and chamberlains stationed there. A secretary arrived from Deshou Palace, reporting the Chief Administrators had concluded their addresses, the Emperor had descended to proclaim the edict, and the Crown Prince had donned ceremonial robes from the Eastern Palace.
Without delay, she followed the messenger toward the western corridor connecting the Eastern Palace to Purple Star Hall.
A hundred paces from the corridor, a cohort of yellow-clad bearers emerged, carrying a palanquin with synchronized speed.
She halted when the secretary did, bowing her head.
Cold sweat drenched her back, fever clouding her vision. Yet she needed no clarity to recognize the figure descending from the palanquin—whose stately gait could only belong to him, that peerlessly noble, resplendent, and formidable man.She involuntarily stepped back half a pace, bending her knees to kneel and salute, saying, "Your subject Meng Tinghui has come by decree to welcome Your Highness into the Purple Star Hall as the Leading Official..."
Before she could finish speaking or kneel fully, in full view of the ceremony attendees, he pulled her up and dragged her before him.
Ying Gua moved swiftly, accurately, and decisively, seizing her hand and refusing to let go. His brows furrowed tightly as he scrutinized her, his voice low and agitated: "Are you ill?"
Whispers rustled around them, several gazes converging in astonishment.
She struggled to pull her hand back but couldn’t free it from his grasp, feeling another wave of dizziness. "Your subject is not ill. The ceremony is urgent—His Majesty has already taken his seat in Deshou Palace. I beg the Crown Prince to proceed quickly into the hall..."
He stood still for a moment before replying, "Very well."
She let out a small sigh of relief and tried to step aside, but he yanked her harshly, pulling her stumbling along as he led her toward the Purple Star Hall.
Though only a few dozen steps, she walked as if treading on needles, each step trembling and unsteady.
The golden-embroidered Blue Dragon Robe fit him perfectly, the jade sword at his waist gleaming white and jade-green, reflecting the first light breaking in the eastern sky, dazzlingly faint.
Below the vermilion steps of the Purple Star Hall, officials waited in attendance. The gatekeepers, deputy military officers, and civil and military officials stood in ordered rows, their eyes wide with disbelief as they watched him lead her by the hand up the steps into the hall.
Behind them, the sharp crack of a whip echoed. The Purple Star Hall’s golden walls shimmered, vast and coldly silent.
Desperately anxious, she twisted her wrist, halting and stumbling as she tried to break free from his grip. She couldn’t fathom what had come over him, to act so recklessly and against all propriety at such a solemn and grand enthronement ceremony.
Yet he only tightened his hold, murmuring softly, "Why have you fallen ill?"
She didn’t answer, suddenly flaring up with a low cry: "Your Highness!" Dizziness swept over her, her breath catching in her throat. Anger and resentment churned within her—anger at her inability to resist his domineering, resentment at his keen perception and meticulous attention to every detail.
The four hall doors swung open with a boom. A eunuch attendant entered, holding the Abdication Edict issued by the Emperor from Deshou Palace, and requested the Crown Prince to ascend and take his seat on the eastern side of the throne.
He released her hand, gazing deeply into her eyes before turning to mount the dragon throne, seating himself facing east. With a sweep of his long arm, the broad sleeves of his Emperor's Robe settled, the crimson and gold Knee Covering falling into place.
Another whip crack sounded outside. Meng Tinghui turned to see the gatekeepers lining up to ascend the steps. Taking a deep breath, she clenched her hands at her sides, wiping the sweat from her palms, then lowered her head and stepped forward slowly to stand facing north below the dragon throne.
After the gatekeepers and deputy military officers—twenty in total—entered the hall to offer congratulations and complete the rites, the civil and military officials filed in orderly, standing in rows facing west.
She stood below his throne, forcing a calm expression as she watched the high-ranking, formally attired court officials enter one by one and take their positions on either side. Outside the hall doors, below the steps, lower-ranking officials in blue robes stood in a dense, seemingly endless crowd. The sight made her head spin and her vision blur; she had to dig her nails into her palms within her sleeves to steady herself.
All female officials of the sixth rank and above were permitted to enter the hall in formal attire, standing behind the important officials of both administrations. Though they dared not whisper to each other in the hall, their veiled or outright glances toward Meng Tinghui made it clear: these women deeply resented her role as the ceremony’s Leading Official. Moreover, the earlier scene of the Crown Prince publicly holding her hand as they entered the hall had stirred discontent among these young women in the bloom of their youth.The eunuch official who had come with a decree from Deshou Palace unfurled the gilded imperial edict before the assembled ministers and generals: "By the Emperor’s decree to all officials and commanders: ‘The Crown Prince’s benevolence and sagacity are known throughout the land. The Crown Prince shall forthwith ascend the throne as Emperor, while I shall assume the title of Retired Emperor. Prince Ping shall retain his title and accompany me in retirement at the old Western Capital palace in Suiyang. All military and state affairs shall henceforth be administered by the successor sovereign. Having reigned for thirty-nine years, I am now weary and ill, having long desired to withdraw from governance. This decision stems solely from my own will, not from any persuasion by the Crown Prince. You must devote your full efforts to assisting the new sovereign, joining together to uphold the great enterprise of our empire.’"
The words of the imperial edict had already been personally proclaimed by the Emperor during the abdication ceremony at Deshou Palace, and now they were merely being reiterated as part of the enthronement ritual. Yet, unexpectedly, among the important officials of the two systems seated in the hall, some were heard weeping aloud, as if overcome with grief.
The Emperor and Prince Ping had jointly ruled for thirty-nine years—from contending and battling one another to sitting side by side on the throne. They pacified the realm, stabilized the empire, collected weapons, governed the people, relocated the capital, and unified the court to rule over all under heaven. Now, they stepped down together, relinquishing power and personally handing over their lifetime of achievements to their sole heir. How could the veteran ministers who had followed them for decades accept this calmly?
A stir rippled through the officials on both sides as someone stepped forward.
Meng Tinghui, her forehead dripping with sweat, focused her gaze and recognized Gu Qin, who had returned to court duties half a month earlier. Along with him were Xu Ting, Right Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs; Fang Kai, Chief of the Privy Council; Wang Yiwen, Deputy Chief Administrator; and Jiang Ping, Deputy Chief of the Privy Council—key ministers from both the eastern and western factions.
Instead of addressing the newly enthroned emperor, they turned toward the palace attendant holding the gilded imperial edict, bowed deeply, and declared, "We, your unworthy subjects, have long assisted in governance, yet our offenses pile high as mountains. We have been graciously tolerated and spared punishment. Now, the Emperor and Prince Ping have transcended all to make this solitary decision—a decision we deeply admire. But henceforth, we shall no longer behold your radiant presence daily. Like loyal hounds and steeds, our hearts are filled with unbearable attachment."
Though these words expressed the veteran ministers' profound loyalty, they were in fact a great disrespect to the new emperor—for once the abdication edict had been proclaimed, how could one still refer to the former ruler as "the Emperor" in the new sovereign's presence?
Sure enough, Ying Gua sat rigid and cold-faced on the throne, his brow and eyes simmering with concealed fury.
She glanced sideways and felt a sudden shock. Though she understood this was the veteran ministers of both factions asserting their longstanding authority at the dawn of the new reign, she feared he might publicly erupt in anger. Disregarding the ritual protocol of waiting for the attendant to finish proclaiming the edict before speaking, she swiftly turned toward the throne, swept her robes aside, knelt heavily, and bowed her head, declaring, "Now, we encounter the circumstance where the Emperor, in accordance with heaven and the people, ascends the precious throne. I, with my inferior talents, fear I am inadequate to assist the new governance. Yet, seizing this once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity to ride the winds and clouds, I truly share with all the common people under heaven boundless joy and celebration."
She spoke these words with great effort, straining to enunciate each syllable loudly enough for all in the hall to hear.
Her knuckles turned white as she pressed her hands against the palace tiles. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "The decree of the Retired Emperor and Prince Ping arose from their solitary judgment. This great position concerns all the people under heaven. I beseech Your Majesty to ascend the throne, assume the southern-facing position, uphold the Retired Emperor's intent in passing the throne, and not decline or evade."
The hall fell into utter silence, all eyes fixed upon her prostrate form before the throne.
She gently closed her eyes, lowered her head in a deep kowtow, and cried out loudly, "I, in my unworthy capacity, have the honor to serve as the Leading Official for Your Majesty's enthronement ceremony. I wish only that Your Majesty may live ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand thousand years!"
Each "Your Majesty" struck the ears with force, and the three cries of "ten thousand years" shook the very soul.
With this ritual completed, all civil and military officials in the hall swept their robes aside and knelt, offering congratulations and bowing while shouting, "Ten thousand years!" Outside the hall, the minor officials on the steps heard the cries and likewise kowtowed and bowed, the triple cry of "ten thousand years" resounding throughout the inner and outer palace grounds.
It was the end of one era, and the beginning of another.
The iron and blood faded away, as a magnificent curtain rose. This vast, endless landscape flourished with captivating beauty, brimming with the vitality of spring everywhere.
Her forehead pressed against the cold palace tiles, the distant echoes of "ten thousand years" from outside the hall reaching her ears, yet her heart felt bitter and unsettled. Without needing to rise and look up, she knew how solemn and majestic he appeared upon the dragon throne—his face as inscrutable and cold as his heart.The moment she closed her eyes, her mind flashed back to that year, that night, and the handsome young man who had held her in his arms.
Days and months stretched endlessly long. He was her savior, her sole object of reverence, her Crown Prince. And now, he had finally become the revered Your Majesty to whom she pledged her loyalty.
The herald's voice announcing the command for the ministers to rise seemed to descend from the highest heavens—clear yet ethereal.
She knew she ought to lift her head and stand, to respectfully request His Majesty to descend the throne and return to the West China Palace, to join the court officials in celebrating the new emperor's ascension. Yet, no matter how she tried, she could not open her eyes, raise her head, or rise to her feet.
Dizziness overwhelmed her, her body burned with fever, and she no longer even sweated, as if all the blood in her body had evaporated. Waves of pain surged in her abdomen, and she curled helplessly on the palace floor, powerless to move.
Eventually, those around her noticed her distress. The nearby ministers grew somewhat flustered, and a herald hurried over to call out to her: "Lord Meng... Lord Meng..."
She wanted to say she was fine, but no sound escaped her throat. Struggling to lift her gaze, she could only see blurred figures surrounding her, indistinguishable from one another.
Amid the dull pain, she felt a firm grip around her waist and back, and in the next moment, she was lifted into someone's arms.
Her nostrils twitched slightly as she caught the familiar, faint scent. Panic seized her, and she forced her eyes open, only to find the Blue Dragon Robe's collar right before her nose. Gasping in shock, she cried out, "...Your Majesty!"
How could he, in full view of the entire court, step down from the dragon throne and carry her like this!
Ignoring her struggles and the undisguised stares of the ministers and generals, Ying Gua carried her straight out of the hall. He handed her over to two Junior Palace Attendants waiting outside and commanded, "Use my palanquin to escort her out of the palace. Summon the Imperial Physician to the Meng residence to attend to her."
The crowd of lower-ranking officials below the steps parted like wild grass swept by the wind, allowing the two Junior Palace Attendants to carry Meng Tinghui away.
He watched as they placed her into the palanquin before turning back to the hall, striding up the steps to his seat, and raising an eyebrow coldly.
Whispers filled the hall without cease.
Deputy Chief Administrator Wang Yiwen stepped forward from the ranks, his brow furrowed tightly. "Your Majesty has just assumed the great responsibility of the empire, with ambitions yet to be fully realized. How can you disregard court protocols and decorum for the sake of a woman?"
Leaning lazily against the golden back of the dragon throne, his gaze swept across the assembled officials. Without addressing Wang Yiwen directly, he spoke indifferently to the court below, "If any among the civil and military officials hold grievances against Meng Tinghui, let them step forward today and show themselves to me."
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