Although Shen Zhishu had made prior arrangements, how could Meng Tinghui simply return to the capital after ordering the execution of several thousand soldiers from the Willow Banner Camp, leaving this mess for Shen Zhishu and Cao Zixiong to clean up?
On the third morning after returning to Qingzhou, while still in bed, she received word that an envoy from the Chong Prefecture Pacification Commissioner's Office had arrived at the official post, sent by Pacification Commissioner Dong Yicheng to pay respects to the Imperial Envoy.
Meng Tinghui almost laughed coldly at this. Although the imperial decree dismissing Dong Yicheng from his position as Pacification Commissioner and demoting him to acting Prefect of Chong Prefecture had not yet arrived, officials in Chaoan North Circuit had always been quick to sense the wind's direction. How could Dong Yicheng still have the audacity to send someone under his former title to pay respects to her? When traveling from the capital to Qingzhou, she had deliberately bypassed Chong Prefecture precisely to avoid this man. Now, with the Willow Banner Camp rebellion barely suppressed, Dong Yicheng had shrewdly chosen this moment to send an envoy to Qingzhou—what could his intention be?
Even before joining the court, she had known about the collusion among officials in the Chong Prefecture Pacification Commissioner's Office. In the spring of the twentieth year of Qiande, when the Emperor was still Crown Prince and made an incognito inspection tour of Chaoan North Circuit, he had been furious about the Qingzhou Camp incident. Yet ultimately, because Dong Yicheng was an old member of the Eastern Faction, the Emperor only punished a few subordinates involved in military affairs. Now that the Emperor had elevated Qingzhou to a prefecture and planned to move the Chaoan North Circuit Pacification Commissioner's Office from Chong Prefecture to Qingzhou, someone as shrewd as Dong Yicheng must understand that the Emperor intended to use this military rebellion as an opportunity to thoroughly rectify the official administration in Chaoan North Circuit.
But she was no fool. She would never give Dong Yicheng any chance to court her as a "close minister of the Emperor"—not even through the slightest whisper! She immediately had the envoy turned away, claiming she was unwell and unable to receive visitors, while thanking Commissioner Dong for his kindness.
The envoy sent to pay respects to her in Qingzhou thus met with this soft rejection and returned to Chong Prefecture in disappointment. Before leaving, unwilling to give up, he pointedly remarked that since Minister Meng had studied at the Chong Prefecture Women's School, she should not forget her roots, and hoped she would stop by the Chong Prefecture Pacification Commissioner's Office on her return journey to meet with Commissioner Dong.
No sooner had the envoy left than Meng Tinghui drafted a memorial impeaching Dong Yicheng for deceiving his superiors, knowingly sending Shen Zhishu with provisions to reward the troops despite being aware of the Willow Banner Camp rebellion—resulting in Shen Zhishu's capture by the rebels and causing the Emperor anxiety, who then had to send an envoy from afar to pacify the rebellious army.
Shen Zhishu had not returned to Qingzhou with her but remained in Willow Banner County with Cao Zixiong, Di Nian, and Song Zhirui to oversee the resettlement of displaced civilians and the reorganization of city defenses. When he received word from the prefectural office that Meng Tinghui had impeached Dong Yicheng from afar, he was startled. Although he clearly understood that Dong Yicheng's earlier concealment of the Willow Banner Camp rebellion had been ill-intentioned, he had not expected Meng Tinghui to impeach such an important official in Chaoan without even consulting him.
Her nearly protective gesture of shielding him from implication suddenly left him displeased.
Chaoan North Circuit was now in complete chaos. The Willow Banner Camp rebellion had created sudden rifts between various prefectures, with officials seizing the opportunity to undermine one another. Countless eyes were fixed on the newly vacant position of Pacification Commissioner. Once Meng Tinghui's memorial reached the Emperor's desk, he truly could not predict how much turmoil it would stir up in the court.Although he had only served as the prefect of Qing Province for a mere year, his temperament had matured considerably compared to his time in the capital. The reason he hadn’t hastily impeached Dong Yicheng for his past actions was simply because he had learned from the incident involving Wang Qi and had no intention of causing trouble for the Emperor, who was thousands of miles away, at such a critical juncture.
Yet, before he could take any action, Meng Tinghui had already struck first, impeaching Dong Yicheng severely even before returning to the capital!
Shen Zhishu found himself increasingly unable to understand this woman.
Though he knew the Emperor had sent her with the Imperial Decree, surely not just for the superficial task of proclaiming it, he had initially assumed that the ruthless military orders issued that night were only carried out by her under the Emperor’s directive. However, her memorial impeaching Dong Yicheng today could not possibly have been related to the Emperor.
Once the military defenses in the inner and outer cities were fully replaced and Liuqi County had stabilized somewhat, Shen Zhishu entrusted all matters to Cao Zixiong and hurried back to Qing Province on horseback.
·
On the day Shen Zhishu returned to Qing Province, snow had already begun to fall in the northern regions.
The city’s streets were blanketed in thick snow, and the pine and cypress branches outside the government office were draped in silver, creating a vast expanse of white.
Meng Tinghui had been waiting idly in the inner hall for some time, flipping through a book while lost in thought.
During this period, with both Shen Zhishu and Cao Zixiong absent, many affairs in the Qing Province government office had been decided by her overstepping her authority. As a result, the officials in the yamen had grown increasingly attached to her, eager to curry favor with the Emperor’s foremost confidante.
By noon, with no news of Shen Zhishu’s entry into the city, she grew slightly anxious, wondering if the heavy snow had blocked the mountain roads, delaying his return from Liuqi.
Just as she was about to send someone a few miles outside the city to check, a report came that a messenger from the Imperial Vanguard had arrived with an edict from the Emperor.
Meng Tinghui surmised it must be the decree promoting Shen Zhishu to the position of prefect of Qing Province. Since she could not receive the edict on his behalf, she instructed the yamen clerks to set up an altar in the main hall and asked the messenger to wait briefly until Shen Zhishu returned to the city to kneel and receive the Imperial Decree in person.
Unexpectedly, the Imperial Vanguard messenger also handed her a separate yellow scroll, saying it was specially delivered to her by the Emperor’s command.
Meng Tinghui intended to kneel and receive it, but the messenger stopped her, explaining that it was not an Imperial Decree. He then placed it directly into her hands and followed the yamen clerks to the official post station to rest.
Holding the yellow scroll in a daze, she felt it inappropriate to read it openly under everyone’s watchful eyes. Instead, she tucked it into her robe and, feigning composure, took the court gazette brought by the Imperial Vanguard messenger, sitting down to read it carefully.
As winter deepened, the Emperor had just finalized with the Secretariat the decision to change the era name at the beginning of the next year.
Jingxuan.
The new era would be called Jingxuan.
She gently traced the two small characters on the gazette with her finger, her brow relaxing slightly. Unconsciously, she lifted her gaze to the thick snow and silver-covered ground in the courtyard outside—another winter had arrived.
Snow must be falling in the capital as well, though she wondered what he was doing at that moment.
…The first year of Jingxuan.
This would truly be an era that belonged to him alone.
A faint smile touched her lips as she lowered her eyes to the gazette again. Reading about the grand court assembly scheduled for the first month of the new year, she could already envision the bustling and magnificent scene, though she wasn’t sure if she would make it back in time.
Just as her thoughts drifted aimlessly, someone rushed in from outside, reporting that Shen Zhishu had entered the city but had diverted midway, heading straight to the commercial district near the Shangqiu Gate in the eastern part of the city.
Upon hearing this, Meng Tinghui was instantly irritated. Frowning, she stood up and snapped at the messenger, “How could you not stop Lord Shen? The Imperial Vanguard messenger is still waiting for him to return and kneel to receive the Imperial Decree! Instead of returning to the government office to attend to his duties, what is he doing going to the eastern part of the city?!”The clerk looked at her and said, "How would this humble official dare to stop Lord Shen..."
She grew even more annoyed. As she went to fetch her cloak, she sneered coldly, "If you don't dare to stop him, then tell me where in the eastern part of the city he went. I'll go personally and ask him to return to the office!"
The clerk timidly lowered his head and whispered, "...Lord Shen went to the Yan Family Shop in the eastern part of the city."
Meng Tinghui froze mid-action, her expression changing. She stood still for a long moment before lowering her gaze and asking, "Did he say when he would return to the office?"
The clerk replied, "He said he would just take a look and come back."
She sighed softly in her heart, her anger dissipating. She waved her hand dismissively at the man, sending him away. Still, she draped her cloak over her shoulders and walked out of the office hall. Without having anyone accompany her, she headed alone toward the rear courtyard.
Snowflakes drifted gently from the sky. She walked silently, and only when there were no sounds of people around did she gently pull out the yellow parchment from her bosom. Slowly, she broke the seal, unrolled it, and spread it open.
The handwriting was so familiar—each stroke bold and powerful. The deep ink stood out starkly against the snowy, silvery landscape.
...
"I have read the memorial impeaching Dong Yicheng. Your considerations are rather lacking and full of omissions, making it difficult to summarize briefly. Therefore, I am temporarily withholding approval, and it has not been circulated beyond the Secretariat. Do not worry.
The northern border is bitterly cold and frozen. Though the vast snowscape surpasses a thousand mountain peaks, it cannot compare to a single corner of the Western Mountain in the outskirts of the capital.
Thinking of you,
Return quickly."
...
The hand holding the yellow parchment trembled involuntarily.
Her face flushed red.
She stood rigidly in the snow, letting the falling flakes cover her shoulders, her thoughts too stunned to turn.
She didn’t know how much time had passed before she finally regained a bit of awareness. Unconsciously, she narrowed her eyes and read the last few words on the yellow parchment once more.
She had never imagined he could write such words.
She closed her eyes gently, then opened them again. The corners of her mouth lifted uncontrollably, rising even higher.
Carefully, she rolled up the yellow parchment and tucked it back into her bosom.
Pressing it tightly, tightly against her heart.
Another ten days passed before Di Nian returned to Qing Province from Willow Banner County.
The Qing Province area bordered the Northern Frontier, and the Willow Banner Camp was a crucial military stronghold pressing against the border. Although the recent mutiny in the Imperial Army had not sparked any major upheaval, to prevent further unrest, Di Nian specifically ordered Song Zhirui to deploy troops from the Qing Province Camp for defense. After reorganizing both internal and external military affairs, he led the Imperial Guards back.
Meng Tinghui did not know whether he would secretly report these matters to the Emperor, nor did she know if he had been given any secret orders. Since he did not voluntarily share this information with her, she did not ask further. She simply remained seated in the Qing Province office, waiting for his return. Every two days, she reviewed the reports coming in from Willow Banner County, but she refrained from inquiring into any matters related to military affairs.
She was well aware of Di Nian’s status among the various troops of the Palace Guard in the capital and knew that his relationship with the Emperor was not comparable to that of an ordinary officer. She did not know whether the Emperor had similarly informed Di Nian of his intention to execute an entire camp of mutinous soldiers. Nor did she know whether Di Nian had ever doubted her from beginning to end that night. All she knew was that Di Nian seemed completely unaware and equally free of suspicion.
Moreover, Di Nian was nothing like Shen Zhishu. Shen Zhishu was still able to voice his doubts to her, but Di Nian would likely take any suspicions straight to the imperial court in the capital. She could probe Shen Zhishu about what kind of memorial he might submit, but she could not ask Di Nian, the Emperor’s personal Military Academy officer, a single word about his intentions.When Di Nian returned to Qing Province, it coincided with the annual grand market between the two nations. The city of Qingzhou was bustling with activity during the day, with merchants and wealthy families around the Shangqiu Gate employing all sorts of ingenious tricks to catch the attention of traders from the Northern Frontier. Three days later, as the market concluded, Shen Zhishu hosted a banquet at the prefectural office, inviting over a dozen of the city’s most prominent merchants to gather. The Yan family, as one of the foremost among them, naturally received an invitation. Meanwhile, Meng Tinghui, in her capacity as the Imperial Pacification Commissioner, was urged by the Qingzhou officials to stay and attend the banquet alongside Di Nian. Though she was eager to return to the capital, she found it difficult to decline their goodwill and agreed with Shen Zhishu to depart the day after the banquet. Shen Zhishu smiled without pressing her further, simply instructing his subordinates to make all necessary arrangements for Meng Tinghui and her party’s departure.
With the New Year approaching, many households in the city had already begun decorating with colorful silks and lanterns. As the banquet commenced that evening, the streets outside glowed with red lanterns and green-tiled roofs, creating a strikingly beautiful scene.
Only after the merchants and government officials had gathered in the flower hall of the rear courtyard did Shen Zhishu invite Meng Tinghui to take the seat of honor. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, she insisted that she was too young and inexperienced to accept such an honor, deferring to Shen Zhishu to take the main seat instead, and then sat down beside Di Nian.
The hall was filled with the clinking of cups and lively conversation, with everyone praising Lord Shen for his effective governance of Qingzhou and toasting him repeatedly. Meng Tinghui smiled faintly to herself, quietly speculating whether the officials had gone to such lengths to keep her there precisely to ensure she witnessed this scene and would report it to the Emperor upon her return to the capital.
The banquet was already halfway through when the Yan family’s carriage slowly arrived outside the government office.
Upon hearing that the eldest daughter of the Yan family had arrived, more than half of the merchants in the flower hall ceased their laughter, set down their wine cups, and rose to greet her.
Meng Tinghui could not hide her surprise.
Having spent over a month in Qingzhou, she had heard a little about Yan Fuzhi’s business tactics and knew that the Yan family was the only establishment in the city exempt from the government’s mutual market taxes. Yet, she had never imagined that the woman who always seemed carefree and impulsive in her presence would command such respect from a room full of influential merchants.
It was hardly surprising, though. Behind Yan Fuzhi stood the renowned Yan family enterprise, famous throughout the region. Moreover, she had quickly forged connections with the local authorities upon arriving in Qingzhou—who would dare overlook her?
Shen Zhishu also stood up.
Yan Fuzhi stepped across the threshold, dressed in a crimson gown embroidered with gold, her hair styled in a high flowing-cloud chignon. Her eyes sparkled with a bright smile as she greeted each person in turn, finally making her way to the table where a seat had been reserved for her. There, she gracefully gathered her sleeves and bowed, saying, “Lord Shen.”
Meng Tinghui watched the two of them intently.
Shen Zhishu’s expression remained unchanged, his face as charmingly unreadable as ever. He chuckled softly and invited her to take her seat.
Following behind her, a servant from the Yan family carried a black lacquered wooden box. Without a word, the servant opened it in front of everyone and respectfully presented it to Shen Zhishu.
Inside was a complete piece of cold jade, pure white and gleaming flawlessly.
A collective gasp swept through the hall as the guests took in the sight, followed by murmurs of admiration. Everyone remarked on the boldness of the Yan family’s eldest daughter and the undeniable prowess of the Yan family.Shen Zhishu accepted it with composure, cradling the wooden case in both hands. Without a moment's hesitation, he turned to Meng Tinghui, who had been watching them in a daze, and said with a smile, "Such a remarkable stone is not something I dare keep privately. I only hope Lord Meng can bring it to the capital and present it to His Majesty, as a testament to the devotion of the officials and people of Qing Province."
Meng Tinghui snapped out of her reverie, unsure what scheme he was playing at, and couldn't help but glance at Yan Fuzhi.
Yan Fuzhi met her gaze and explained, "This object is a rarity seen once in a century. The Yan family servants happened to acquire it from a mountain dweller." She rose, reached out to turn the jade specimen, and pointed to a particular spot for Meng Tinghui to see. "This dragon marking isn't crafted by human hands—it formed naturally. It must be heaven's blessing upon our new Great Ping sovereign, bestowing this marvel upon the world."
The assembled guests murmured in awe, never imagining such origins for the object.
Meng Tinghui, however, stifled a laugh. She hadn't expected Shen Zhishu to engage in such theatrics, and how could the Emperor possibly believe in such "auspicious omens"?
Yet she couldn't refuse. She had to rise and accept it, though she vaguely understood Shen Zhishu's intention—no sooner had the Emperor ascended the throne than mutiny broke out in the northern borderlands' Imperial Army, unsettling the Chaoan North Circuit and spawning rumors even in remote counties. By presenting this "heaven-sent marvel" tonight, he likely aimed to silence the gullible masses and stabilize public sentiment throughout the circuit.
He had truly gone to great lengths with this elaborate plan.
Once Meng Tinghui accepted the jade, the hall's atmosphere revived with laughter and clinking cups. Di Nian, an old acquaintance of Shen Zhishu's, finally found time to properly catch up, now scarcely setting down his wine cup as they leaned close in private conversation. Yan Fuzhi chatted cheerfully with merchants at nearby tables about cross-border trade matters, discussing the Chaoan North Circuit Tea and Horse Agency's proposal to privatize salt distribution...
Had Meng Tinghui not known beforehand about their unusual relationship, she would never have detected anything peculiar between Yan Fuzhi and Shen Zhishu.
Amid the drunken revelry, something suddenly fell from Di Nian's robes, immediately caught by Shen Zhishu.
It was a small peachwood charm carved with faint, indistinct patterns—flat on one end, slightly pointed on the other, and tied with a red silk tassel.
Shen Zhishu examined it curiously, raising an eyebrow as he asked, "What's this?"
Di Nian flushed with embarrassment and tried to snatch it back, but after several failed attempts, he clenched his fist and swung it at Shen Zhishu.
Shen Zhishu chuckled, dodging the blow. "This isn't meant for Zhili, is it?"
Yan Fuzhi and Meng Tinghui turned at the remark, both instantly recognizing the object—a specialty of Chaoan North Circuit used between lovers to express affection.
Yan Fuzhi laughed softly, leaning over to whisper in Shen Zhishu's ear. His smile widened, and he tossed the charm back to Di Nian before casting a light glance at Yan Fuzhi without another word.
Di Nian stammered an explanation: "That day... back in Liuqi County, a townsfolk gave it to me. I thought it was interesting and wanted to bring it back for Zhili to play with."
Noticing their merriment, a few bold merchants came over to toast Shen Zhishu, joking, "After that Wang Qi incident, Lord Shen gave all the advantages to the Yan family shops—leaving the rest of us green with envy!"
Seeming in exceptionally high spirits, Shen Zhishu accepted every toast without refusal, draining each cup with a silent smile.Meng Tinghui's expression shifted slightly as she overheard the conversation, realizing that Wang Qi's matter was also connected to Yan Fuzhi, and that the Yan family's exemption from mutual market taxes wasn't solely due to Shen Zhishu's favoritism.
One of the men, emboldened by Shen Zhishu's unusually approachable demeanor that evening, poured him several cups of wine in succession before joking cheerfully, "We often say in private that the only way to stop the Yan family's shop from enjoying such privileges is for Miss Yan to marry Lord Shen—then surely His Lordship wouldn't extend such benefits to his own family, would he?"
Shen Zhishu held his wine cup with three fingers, still smiling casually, though a flicker of light gleamed in his eyes. He turned slightly toward Yan Fuzhi and said, "I wonder if Miss Yan would be willing to forgo some annual silver and condescend to marry this humble Shen?"
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to everyone present.
Di Nian's wine cup suddenly clattered to the floor, splashing fine liquor onto both their robes, its fragrance permeating the air. Meng Tinghui's face paled abruptly as she stared fixedly at Shen Zhishu, seemingly unable to believe what she had heard.
The men who had come to toast were also stunned, exchanging bewildered glances without knowing how to respond.
Yan Fuzhi remained seated, lifting her eyelids to sweep a glance around the room before curling her crimson lips into a smile. "Lord Shen merely jokes to shut your mouths. How could you take it seriously?"
Hearing this, the men relaxed and burst into laughter.
Di Nian nudged Shen Zhishu with his elbow, chuckling, "I nearly believed it for a moment! If word of this reaches the capital, countless tender hearts would be broken!" Leaning closer with a suggestive smile, he added, "Speaking of which, how could you, Shen Zhishu, bear to leave all those ladies in the capital? Perhaps after the New Year, His Majesty will summon you back to the capital..."
Shen Zhishu's faint smile lingered at the corners of his mouth as he listened to Di Nian, slowly swirling his wine cup in his right hand, round and round, without ceasing for a long while.
But Meng Tinghui couldn't bring herself to laugh no matter what.
She lowered her gaze, recalling how Shen Zhishu had gone directly to the Yan residence instead of returning to the government office after entering the city that day. Comparing it to this moment, she felt inexplicably unsettled.
The eldest young master of the Shen family in the capital, Lord Shen with his peerless lineage in the court, Shen Zhishu whose reputation as a romantic swept through the capital... If he possessed genuine feelings, what would they truly look like?
Meng Tinghui couldn't help glancing at Yan Fuzhi, only to find her expression frank and unconstrained, still sitting with natural ease as she smiled at everyone around her.
Yet she had personally witnessed how bitterly Yan Fuzhi had wept for Shen Zhishu that day—how could she believe this seemingly indifferent smile now? She had neither the opportunity nor the time to ask Yan Fuzhi what had truly transpired between her and Shen Zhishu, nor could she discern what schemes these two held in their hearts.
She was to depart for the capital with Di Nian early the next morning, uncertain when she might see Yan Fuzhi again. After tonight, she feared she would have no further chance to inquire about their affairs.
With these thoughts, she felt a faint pang of sorrow.Yan Fuzhi suddenly raised her cup to toast the gathering, smiling as she declared, "Thanks to everyone's generosity, the Yan family has enjoyed numerous official privileges over the past year. After tonight, may Lord Shen dispatch clerks to collect the market taxes from our household as per regulations. Let us not jest about Lord Shen anymore—how could someone of his stature be subjected to such talk? With countless noble ladies in the capital vying for his attention, what would people think if rumors spread of him being entangled with a merchant's daughter? Would you all wish to ruin his career?" Her words, as always, were bold and unrestrained, delivered with a laugh. After a pause, she added, "Moreover, is the Yan family some small-scale trader? My father has long declared that I am to marry only a man willing to join our family as a live-in son-in-law! Lord Shen falls far short of such qualifications."
Her remarks drew hearty laughter from the nearby tables, with many raising their cups in return, praising the Yan family's eldest daughter for possessing a magnanimity rivaling any man's.
She lifted her cup again, turning to Meng Tinghui with a smile. "Magistrate Meng, you traveled a thousand li to rescue our Qing Province prefect, Lord Shen, from the rebel forces. On behalf of the city's residents, I offer you this toast!" After drinking, she shifted her gaze to Shen Zhishu, her smile unwavering. "With year-end approaching, the shop affairs keep me endlessly occupied. Lord Shen, please pardon my early departure so as not to disrupt your esteemed gathering." With that, she gathered her skirts and rose, summoning a Yan family servant to accompany her out.
Shen Zhishu did not glance at her from start to finish. Only after the carved door of the flower hall closed did he smile at the others, signaling them to continue the banquet.
Meng Tinghui found the food tasteless, her mind fixed on catching Yan Fuzhi for a final conversation before departure. Just as she rose to leave and chase after her, Shen Zhishu excused himself to the guests, claiming intoxication and the need to prepare for Meng Tinghui’s departure the next day.
His exit dampened the hall’s lively atmosphere. The remaining officials from the prefectural office strained to maintain appearances, exchanging toasts and pleasantries with the merchants, their words steeped in bureaucratic formality.
Di Nian finally sensed something amiss, his gaze hesitantly turning toward Meng Tinghui.
Meng Tinghui forced a faint smile and whispered, "Stay seated. I’ll go check outside." Seizing a moment when no one was watching, she quietly slipped out through the curtains behind.
A cold wind swept over her, carrying flecks of fine snow that made her shiver.
Fresh, shallow footprints meandered toward the rear corridor. She followed them but had not gone far when her steps slowed to a halt, her gaze fixed on the other end of the path.
Two figures wandered a hundred paces away in the silvery snow, their robes and skirts entangled.
The red skirt blazed bold and vivid; the blue robe stood aloof and solitary.
The contrast was so glaring, the intense colors blinding her momentarily in the night’s snowy glow. She lowered her eyes, not daring to look longer.
Turning abruptly, she hurried back the way she came, returning to the flower hall.
What lay between them was not for her to ponder.
A pang touched her heart, yet the corners of her lips lifted slightly.
Suddenly, she felt that whatever story unfolded between those two and its outcome no longer concerned her—nor did she care.
·
On the day of departure, Shen Zhishu accompanied her thirty li beyond the city walls, yet he remained silent throughout, only handing her a memorial to present to the Emperor upon her return to the capital.
Though aware this breached protocol, she did not refuse, secretly tucking the memorial away. After bidding farewell to the officials of Qing Province, she set off for the capital under the escort of the Imperial Guards led by Di Nian.
Though they pressed on daily, the harsh winter snow made the long journey arduous. She missed the New Year’s court assembly in the capital, arriving instead at the midnight hour on the ninth day of the first lunar month. The outer city watchtowers spotted the banners of the Imperial Guards and hurriedly opened the gates, dispatching a swift rider to report her arrival to the palace.
The outer city streets brimmed with festive cheer. Even in the deep night’s chill, she caught the sweet scent of glutinous rice wine, softening and intoxicating her heart.
Though not born here, she felt this was her true home.
After parting with Di Nian and the Imperial Guards at the southern gate of the inner city, she entered with the servant from the Meng residence, who had come to fetch her upon the news.
The servant, overjoyed to see her safe, usually too timid to speak much, now chattered incessantly, recounting all sorts of events during her absence and mentioning how her efforts in quelling the chaos in Chao'an had spread across the capital, earning widespread praise.
Finally, he whispered that the Emperor’s rewards were piled high in the residence, awaiting her return.
At the mention of the Emperor, her heart fluttered with unease. Her mind filled with the words from that yellow parchment. Nestling into the carriage’s soft cushions, her cheeks flushed unexpectedly.
Back at the residence, she washed away the journey’s dust, ate a little, then extinguished the lamps and retired without bothering to see what rewards he had bestowed.
The palace remained silent all night, so quiet she almost believed he did not know of her return.
The next day dawned clear. By the time she woke, it was nearly noon.On the tenth day of the first lunar month, the Emperor was due to visit the Golden Bright Terrace according to ancestral customs, leading all court officials to watch military performances. Yet she had not heard of any summons from the palace for her to accompany them.
She rose late, vaguely worried she might have overslept, and sent someone to inquire if any palace messengers had come. Her household staff only shook their heads, saying there had been no word from the palace.
By nightfall, after finishing her evening meal, she surmised that the martial displays at Golden Bright Terrace must have concluded and the Emperor would have returned to the palace. Only then did she have attendants help her change clothes, preparing to enter the palace and report on her duties.
Though he had delayed summoning her, she could not neglect her duties as a subject. Having returned to the capital after pacifying mutinous troops—a matter of great importance—how dare she delay in seeking an audience with the sovereign?
But the moment she stepped out of her residence, she saw two Junior Palace Attendants standing in the street, as if just about to approach.
Assuming they were messengers from the Great Within sent to summon her to court, she hastily instructed her servants to prepare monetary rewards for the two, then hurriedly turned to board her carriage.
From the shadows of the night-cloaked street wall, a figure and a horse emerged.
In the dim light, the tall man sat astride his steed, a luxurious crane-feather cloak faintly shimmering; snowflakes danced whimsically as the horse snorted, its jet-black mane fluttering slightly beneath its neck.
Her heart seemed to clench. The motion of lifting her skirts to board the carriage froze mid-action, her gaze fixed dazedly on the man and his horse.
Even with his features blurred by darkness, she recognized that peerless aura and grace unique in this world.
The man remained silent and still, watching her calmly from the distance.
After a long moment, she lowered her hand.
Her layered silk skirt fell like scattered blossoms, covering her official boots.
Her lips moved, and she heard herself whisper, "Your Majesty." But the voice was so ethereal it hardly seemed her own.
The horse suddenly neighed, a sharp crack of a whip piercing the night air as it reared. In the next instant, it leaped to within a few steps of her.
He gathered the reins, leaning down to look at her, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Meng Tinghui."
She slowly raised her head.
That voice—so deep and familiar—had echoed relentlessly in her dreams night after night, ensnaring her reason and devotion through this life without regret or hesitation.
His hand on the reins shifted slightly, parting the cloak a little.
She glimpsed the Emperor's Robe beneath and froze once more, murmuring involuntarily, "Your Majesty has returned from Golden Bright Terrace but not yet entered the palace?"
He watched her without speaking, though the tension in his brow gradually eased.
The night was silent. Aside from her servants and the two ever-present Junior Palace Attendants who accompanied him, there was no one else nearby. Yet she still feared others might see him visiting the Meng residence privately. Uncertain what to do, hesitation flickered across her expression before she spoke again: "This subject was just about to enter the palace for an audience."
He gave a low hum of acknowledgment. "Come here."
She obeyed, stepping forward to stand beside the horse, looking up at him. "Your Majesty."
A spark flashed and died in his eyes as he stared intently at her. Then he abruptly leaned down, hauled her onto the horse, pressed her before him, and with a sharp command, turned the steed toward the northern city.
The cold wind whipped past her temples. The horse galloped so swiftly they crossed several streets before she could react. The rhythmic clatter of hooves hammered against her eardrums, making her feel as if she were in a dream.
His strong, firm arm encircled her waist.
She drew a soft breath of the night air, watching the streets recede rapidly, and asked quietly, "Your Majesty disregards court protocols—where are we going?"
His lips brushed her ear. "Western Mountain."The horse's back trembled, and so did her heart. She urged anxiously, "It's already late into the night. How worried must the palace be after not seeing Your Majesty for so long? What would the officials in the outer city think if they saw Your Majesty like this?"
"Meng Tinghui," he held her tighter, his breath growing hotter against her skin, "your remonstrance is reasonable, but I cannot wait any longer."
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