Zuo Qiurong had not expected him to deny it, nor had she anticipated such a blunt and unequivocal rejection.
He clearly had no interest in her whatsoever.
Within that elegant and refined frame lay a heart so utterly unfeeling.
Instantly, she felt utterly humiliated, regretting that she had rashly approached him on Meng Tinghui's suggestion, only to end up in this predicament. Overwhelmed with embarrassment, her eyes reddened as she gave a slight bow before turning and fleeing.
Yin Qing also turned back immediately and continued walking forward.
It wasn't that he didn't remember her.
Back in the Zuo family mansion in Liuzhou, Yongxing Circuit, she had stood out in a bright red jacket, her eyes curved like crescent moons, effortlessly composing poetry and prose.
Her shyness then was just like tonight—too timid to speak to him, her face flushed crimson.
Now, however, she had grown tall and slender, her face no longer bearing the innocence of youth, presenting instead the image of a talented and well-mannered beauty.
The affection in her eyes just now had been unmistakable; he was not oblivious to it. But his heart had no room left for matters of romance.
He hadn't expected to pass the imperial examinations alongside her, and this realization stirred a faint unease within him.
At the palace banquet, she and Meng Tinghui appeared close, but he had no idea what she might have said to Meng Tinghui or whether it would arouse Meng Tinghui's suspicion toward him.
He had prepared for every conceivable scenario, yet he had never anticipated encountering Zuo Qiurong at court.
That earlier address of "Lord Yin" had been so soft and delicate, like fine snowflakes drifting in the air, lingering in his ears, unwilling to dissipate.
Lost in thought, he couldn't help but pause and glance back.
The snow stretched endlessly along the imperial road, with stark, gnarled branches of withered trees looming on either side. But she had long since vanished without a trace.
·
In the West China Palace, warm drapes swayed gently, and the sheer spring curtains could not conceal the figures within.
On a couch drenched in fragrant sweat, delicate arms lay exposed, and silken garments lay in disarray. The panting of the two entwined figures grew increasingly urgent and intense until, finally, their bodies grew limp and their spirits dissolved, gradually subsiding into stillness.
Suddenly, there came a soft knock at the door—one urgent tap followed by two slower ones.
Meng Tinghui, utterly exhausted, forced her eyes open at the sound and looked up at him.
Ying Gua moved her arms from his shoulders, propped himself up, and rose from the bed. Without bothering to dress, he walked barefoot to the outer hall, unbarred the door, and opened it.
As the vermilion door swung open, the night wind swept in, carrying snow that chilled his shoulders.
Bai Danyong's shoulders were also heavily dusted with snow. Lifting his head, he caught sight of Ying Gua's half-naked, sweat-sheened body and immediately realized his timing was ill-chosen. He quickly lowered his head and reported, "I have been following Yin Qing closely and have found nothing unusual. No one has emerged from the Northern Envoys' Residence either."
Ying Gua frowned deeply but said nothing.
Bai Danyong then presented an object, whispering, "The Inner Court has just received an imperial letter from Suiyang in the Western Capital. No one dared to delay, so I brought it along."
Ying Gua reached out to take it, nodding. "You've worked hard tonight. Rest early."
Bai Danyong expressed his gratitude, withdrew, and closed the palace door for him.
Ying Gua turned but did not immediately return to the inner chamber. Instead, he leaned against the door, lowering his gaze to examine the object in his hand.
An imperial letter from the Western Capital.
His eyes moistened slightly as he tore open the imperial seal and pulled out the thin, gold-embossed letter inside.
The handwriting was bold and vigorous, like ancient pines, with strokes that were unrestrained and commanding.
The message was concise, yet each word struck with the sharpness of a drawn blade, dignified and intimidating.
Just by looking at the ink strokes that flowed like dragons, he could vividly picture his father's handsome, sharply defined face.Everyone says he and his father are strikingly similar. Even his mother, the Empress, once remarked that every part of him resembled his father except for a pair of blue eyes that mirrored hers.
The letter felt both cold and scorching in his palm. After reading it in one breath, he couldn’t help but close his eyes.
“The events of the sixth year of Qiande were my design. To this day, your mother, the Empress, remains unaware of the reason. At that time, the empire had just stabilized, yet rebels along the borders grew increasingly rampant. Had I not devised this plan, how could the safety of the border people have been secured? Yet for over twenty years, I have harbored regret—peace at the frontiers cannot be sustained by slaughter and deceit alone. My son, you may now have better insights.
“Since your mother learned that Meng Tinghui is indeed the Lady of Qingtu County from the Meng clan, she has often reminisced about your childhood. She worries you may not understand the complexities of worldly affections or that you might suppress your true feelings because of your parents’ influence. Little does she know that like father, like son—how could my child be ordinary? You must have your own convictions. Though I do not know what virtues, loyalty, or merits this Meng woman possesses, your love for her must be rooted in something admirable, faithful, or worthy. Even if she lacked these qualities, what would it matter if you loved her nonetheless?
“I understand all your concerns. This empire has already been entrusted to you, and I seek nothing more. My only wish is for you to find fortune as I did, so that my heart may rest at ease.
…”
He opened his eyes, walked to the desk nearby, and held the letter over a blazing candle until it turned to ashes.
When he returned to the inner chamber, she was already lying prone on the bed, fast asleep.
Through the sheer bed curtains, her face appeared serene, her cheeks flushed and translucent. A sheen of fragrant sweat still glistened on her bare back, a sight of alluring tenderness.
He stood by the bedside, reluctant to disturb her.
The sixth year of Qiande.
He closed his eyes again, and vague images flickered through his mind.
He had been only six years old then. His mother, the Empress, visited the residence of Duke Zheng of State, Meng Hao, and brought him along.
A tiny infant girl wrapped in pink cloth was passed around yet never cried. His mother laughed and said the child was well-behaved, just like he had been as a baby, and asked if he would like a future crown princess who never fussed.
How lively the Duke’s residence had been that night. Yet after that, he never heard anyone mention that little infant girl again, the one who had been enfeoffed as the Lady of Qingtu County.
In time, even the talk of a crown princess faded from memory.
But who could have imagined that after all these twists and turns, she would still find her way back to him and become his woman?
Twenty-one years ago, his father had executed every member of her Meng clan.
She, too, should have died, but by chance, she slipped through the net and survived.
Though she lived, eight years later, she nearly froze to death because of an edict issued by his mother.
And it was precisely then that he happened upon her and saved her.
Precisely because of that, she fell deeply, irrevocably in love with him.
The workings of fate could be so bitterly ironic.
Perhaps his prolonged presence by the bed stirred something in her subconscious, for soon she fluttered her lashes and opened her eyes, gazing drowsily in his direction.
“Your Majesty.”
As she propped herself up, her long hair cascaded over her chest, veiling two delicate peaks and enhancing her allure.
He curved his lips slightly, drew aside the bed curtain, and climbed in, gathering her into his embrace.
When her skin met the chill of his shoulders, she shivered, frowned, and said, “Your Majesty, why are you not even wearing a robe?” Then she held him even tighter, trying to warm him with her own body.
“It’s nothing,” he murmured, lowering his head to kiss her.
Between breaths, she asked, “Was there something urgent earlier?”
He shook his head and repeated, “It’s nothing.”
Nestled in his arms, intoxicated by his kisses, it took her a long while to regain her senses. She lifted her chin to look at him.He reached out to extinguish the lamp, then turned over while holding her, saying, "You haven't had enough rest lately at the Privy Council, have you? Tonight, sleep well."
As if remembering something, she pursed her lips in the darkness and remarked, "Your Majesty acted quite convincingly today in front of the Northern envoys. It's a pity that General Fang and the others, despite their age, had to play along with Your Majesty in the grand hall."
He chuckled softly but only said, "Sleep."
She buried her head against him, yet after a moment, lifted it again to say, "It seems your subject has grown to love Your Majesty even more."
His eyes suddenly stung, and he held her tighter.
She knew he had never been one for overtly candid words, but this gesture spoke volumes of his feelings. A faint smile touched her heart as she closed her eyes peacefully.
After an unknown length of time, he suddenly whispered hoarsely by her ear, "I never knew I could love so deeply, or be loved so deeply in return."
Nestled in the hollow of his neck, she smiled faintly. "Then your subject should have passed the Metropolitan Examination and become an official earlier, so that we could have met and understood each other sooner. That way, Your Majesty would have known earlier too..."
Slowly, he raised his hand to caress her face.
If I were to say that we actually met very, very long ago, would you believe me?
On the day the Northern Frontier envoys departed the capital, a tender green bud unexpectedly bloomed on the barren branches of the tall tree in front of the Meng residence.
Everyone remarked that spring had arrived early this year, perhaps heralding great fortune for the nation.
Although the demobilization of troops in the three northern routes had been decided, its implementation proved far more complex. Di Nian focused solely on selecting personnel for reorganization and deploying soldiers to build fortresses, while the task of resettling and registering the demobilized Imperial Army soldiers was left to the various prefectural magistrates. Along the three border routes, eight major fortresses were slated for renovation, with new ones to be constructed south of Mount Min and the Li River. The estimated cost amounted to at least several hundred thousand strings of cash. Pei Hua, the Commissioner of the Three Divisions, repeatedly submitted memorials, arguing that the profits from northern border trade were substantial. He requested that the Emperor decree the three northern route Transportation Offices and the court share the expenses equally to alleviate the burden on the imperial treasury.
By early March, military affairs in the northern border had normalized, with demobilization and fortress construction proceeding simultaneously. Reports from the three routes indicated no discrepancies. Concurrently, the Northern Bureau of the Ministry of War submitted a memorial stating that the Northern Frontier was also reducing its troops along the border, adhering to the previous agreement in numbers.
As the spring breeze began to stir, the state-level Female Scholar Examinations were about to commence once more. Given the notable success of the previous year's reforms to the Metropolitan Examination, Shen Zhili, the Vice Director of the Ministry of Rites, proposed abolishing the Female Scholar Examinations henceforth, allowing women to take the same Metropolitan Examination as men and enjoy equal opportunities for official appointments. The Emperor approved the Ministry of Rites' request, designating this year as the final Female Scholar Examination.
Additionally, the mounted archery ceremony, postponed since last autumn, was set to take place in spring, as customary, at the North Garden. However, unlike previous years, the person leading the horse in this year's ceremony was none other than Meng Tinghui, who had joined the Privy Council less than half a year ago.
The appointment of a female official to lead the horse at the mounted archery ceremony was surprising enough, but the fact that it was advocated by several senior generals of the Privy Council left people utterly astonished.
This was tantamount to publicly declaring their considerable appreciation for this woman, who, despite being a civil official, now served in the Privy Council.
Thus, even if Meng Tinghui did not wield overwhelming power in the court, her status within the Two Councils was undoubtedly formidable. Among civil officials below the rank of Hanlin Academician, none dared to speak against her, and even those above that rank regarded her with considerable wariness.The weather was slightly warm, and the snow covering the training ground north of the palace city had long been cleared away, melted and dissolved by the sun. As the evening gusts swept across, a haze of dust rose along both sides of the archery path, shimmering with an unusual rosy glow under the lingering light of the distant sunset.
The chestnut horse lowered its long neck, half-bent its front hooves, and occasionally kicked up thin dust from the path.
Meng Tinghui, clad in riding attire, forced herself to patiently smooth its long mane. Gently gathering the reins, she called it "Azure Cloud," and only when it snorted roughly did she cautiously climb into the saddle.
She tugged the reins, turning the horse in a circle, sensing it had grown somewhat tamer than before. Then, she urged it into a slow trot along the archery path.
The thought of this stubborn chestnut horse being bestowed the name "Azure Cloud Unfading" made her chuckle involuntarily.
A few Junior Palace Attendants, sent by imperial decree to accompany her riding, watched anxiously from the sidelines, fearing she might accidentally provoke the horse into another fit.
After guiding the horse back and forth along the path twice, Meng Tinghui pulled the reins, steering it off the archery path and into a slow, circular trot.
Suddenly, a voice called out from the distance, "Your Majesty."
She reined in and turned her head, her eyes immediately catching sight of the tall black steed.
The gilded saddle gleamed faintly in the misty twilight. The man astride it had his casual imperial robe tucked at the waist, his long legs resting loosely against the horse's sides—seven parts dignified, with an added three of untamed charm.
Her face flushed instantly.
She inwardly scolded herself for her lack of composure. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him like this, so why did her heart still race so wildly?
The chestnut horse, upon spotting the black steed, immediately grew restless, eager to challenge it to a race. It shook its mane, ready to charge forward.
Flustered, she pulled back on the reins and called out sharply, struggling to control the horse. Her heart pounded, afraid it would indeed throw her off in another fit.
He leisurely rode over and chuckled softly, "Isn't it a bit late to cram now?"
The sarcasm in his words made her blush again.
If not for the upcoming mounted archery ceremony, she would never have taken the time to practice riding—ultimately, it was all to avoid embarrassment during the event.
But he had been occupied with state affairs in the Hall of Profound Thought earlier, which was why he had sent someone else to accompany her to the training ground. Why had he come himself now? Seeing that he hadn’t even changed his robes, he must have come directly from the hall.
Was he here just to mock her?
The thought made her retort, "Your Majesty, are you being fair? When do I ever have a moment of free time ordinarily?"
He suppressed a smile and reached out to take her reins, but she stubbornly tightened her grip, refusing to let go. His eyes glinted slightly as he stared at her for a long moment, then suddenly, as if teasing, gave her horse’s hindquarters a sharp kick.
She gasped as the horse bolted forward along the archery path. Her unsecured leather cap fell off, and her long hair streamed wildly in the wind.
Though stubborn, the horse was a first-rate military steed.
He had previously ordered Di Nian to bring it into the imperial stables, intentionally leaving it ungelded to preserve its competitive and spirited nature.
The horse galloped with full force, charging fiercely toward the distant sheds.
Gasping for breath, she struggled to steady herself amid the violent jolts. Leaning forward and slightly to the left, she gradually adapted to its intensity, then guided it by pulling the reins, finally turning it around.
But as she turned, she saw the black steed leap to a spot just a few yards ahead.Qing Yun immediately charged forward, unwilling to be outdone, galloping and leaping alongside the black steed, its fiery mane flowing wildly in the wind.
Her long hair occasionally obscured her vision as the two horses raced back and forth. Everything around them seemed to freeze, leaving only the two of them in the world, with nothing but the biting wind in their ears and the vast sky and him before her eyes.
Her heart gradually calmed, then surged with fervor, as if boiling blood coursed through her veins. She found herself relishing the exhilaration of riding freely.
In the distance, the palace walls appeared blood-red under the setting sun, while the flowing clouds on the horizon seemed dreamlike. For a moment, she felt dazed, wishing she could ride out of the imperial city with him and venture into the distant mountains and vast plains.
Ahead, he reined in his horse, turning it around with a sharp whistle that brought Qing Yun to a halt as well. The two horses slowed their pace and trotted side by side back along the archery path.
Gasping for breath, she swept her disheveled hair over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows to look at him. Seeing how he seemed to enjoy her disarray, her heartbeat quickened again.
This man was surely born to love such pursuits.
Had he not been on the throne, he would undoubtedly have been a pillar of the state, excelling both in military command and civil governance. Freed from the burdens on his shoulders, his untamed elegance would have rivaled that of the most renowned scholars. Given enough freedom, his exceptional talents could have produced literary works and poetry that would endure through the ages.
But he was the emperor—how could he indulge his desires as he pleased?
And what virtue or ability did she possess to be worthy of his love?
He tugged his collar open slightly, also breathing heavily, his gaze growing even more piercing as it swept over her.
Riding recklessly with her on the palace drill ground was the best respite from the exhaustion of governing the court.
Her hands braced against the saddle, her cheeks flushed, she turned her head, and her long hair cascaded down like a waterfall. Her riding attire was silhouetted exquisitely by the slanting sunlight, revealing a rare, spirited grace.
"Meng Tinghui," he nudged his horse closer, his eyes lingering on her face, his voice soft and low, "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"
Her heart raced wildly as she stared at him in a daze.
She knew she was not the kind of woman who would stun others with her beauty, yet hearing him say such words filled her chest with a sweetness like honey, leaving her at a loss for how to respond.
Under the setting sun, they gazed at each other. After a long while, she finally lowered her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. He smiled too, reaching out to gather her loose black hair.
Suddenly, someone rushed onto the field from a distance, shouting urgently, "Your Majesty, an urgent report from the Privy Council!"
Both he and she turned to face the newcomer.
The man hurried closer, dropping to one knee and presenting the report.
Ying Gua frowned slightly. "Report!"
The messenger glanced at the Junior Palace Attendant who had not yet withdrawn nearby and hesitated, remaining silent.
Meng Tinghui immediately dismounted, stepped forward to take the report, and handed it to Ying Gua.
He leaned over, snatched the memorial from her hand, and scanned it quickly. His face instantly darkened as he glared at the messenger. "Summon the two councils for an audience."
"Generals Fang, Jiang, and An are already on their way to the Hall of Profound Thought," the messenger replied, bowing his head. "Messengers have also been sent to the Secretariat."
Ying Gua dismissed the messenger and turned to her. "Return to the Hall of Profound Thought."
Meng Tinghui felt uneasy, unsure what the Privy Council had reported. Seeing his rigid expression, a sense of foreboding stirred within her.Before arriving at the training grounds today, the Privy Council had not received any urgent reports. How could the situation have changed so drastically in the blink of an eye?
Upon returning to the Hall of Profound Thought, they happened to encounter several important officials from the two councils at the base of the vermilion steps.
The members of the two councils, seeing the two of them together, said nothing and merely entered the hall in order.
Meng Tinghui was the last to enter and naturally took her place in the row on the right with the Privy Council. Feeling awkward, she did not dare to look at Fang Kai, Jiang Ping, or the others for a moment.
The expressions of the Zhongshu officials were clearly unpleasant, but restrained by the presence of the Privy Council and the Emperor, they refrained from speaking out against her.
Ying Gua swept his robes aside and took his seat, ordering the memorial to be passed around for the officials below to read.
Only after the Zhongshu officials had finished reading did Meng Tinghui take it.
Such urgent news, and she had not been in the Privy Council to receive it—instead, it had been presented directly to the Emperor before she even knew of it. She truly felt ashamed to stand in this hall, and it was no wonder the Zhongshu officials regarded her with such disdain.
As soon as she opened the memorial and glanced at it, Meng Tinghui froze, finally understanding why his reaction had been so intense.
Bandits in the Shu Province area of the Jiankang Circuit had gathered and risen in rebellion, claiming that descendants of the former Zhong Wan imperial family still lived, that the new Emperor of Taiping was incompetent and Prince Ping was virtueless, and calling upon the people of the surrendered territories to rebel against Taiping and restore the former state.
She closed the memorial, her chest tight and suffocated.
The new Emperor had been on the throne for barely a year and nine months, yet military unrest and banditry in the north had followed one after another without respite.
She lifted her eyes to look at the others on both sides and saw that everyone’s expressions were grim. Clearly, none had anticipated such an unimaginable uprising in the north.
Di Nian was currently in the north, vigorously reorganizing the three circuits of the Imperial Army. Yet, at this very moment, the Jiankang Circuit was in turmoil. It was easy to imagine how this would affect the planned reductions, troop transfers, and fortification repairs in the three northern circuits.
Moreover, the banner these bandits raised was one calling for the restoration of the former Zhong Wan State, while condemning the current Emperor’s incompetence and Prince Ping’s lack of virtue!
No wonder he had shown such anger in front of everyone, and no wonder he had summoned the two councils for an immediate audience.
When she first entered court service and compiled local records of the previous dynasty in the Imperial Academy, she had extensively studied historical texts and was naturally well-versed in the events of that time.
When the previous Emperor and Prince Ping unified the four kingdoms aside from the Northern Frontier, and captured the Zhong Wan capital of Wu Zhou, the original Zhong Wan ruler, Meng Yu, publicly surrendered and pledged allegiance as a subject. He later died of illness in Wu Zhou. In the third year of Qiande, after the capital was moved to Zhu Zhou, Prince Ping summoned Meng Yu’s two sons and two younger brothers, along with their families, to Zhu Zhou. The previous Emperor enfeoffed the four Mengs as dukes, and contemporaries praised the two rulers for their magnanimity. However, in the autumn of the sixth year of Qiande, court officials presented rebellious poems composed by Meng Yu’s son Meng Hao and younger brother Meng Jue. Prince Ping, citing the Meng family’s unextinguished rebellious intentions, ordered the execution of the entire Meng clan.
Thus, not a single member of the former Zhong Wan imperial family, whether man, woman, or child, survived.
Over the past twenty years, although bandits had occasionally caused trouble in the border circuits, never had anyone raised the banner of restoring a fallen state to incite rebellion. The more she thought about it, the more unbelievable it seemed. She could not understand why bandits in the Jiankang Circuit would choose this moment to rebel, and on such an absurd pretext.
As she pondered this, she noticed someone from the Zhongshu side stepping forward—it was Gu Qin, with whom she had never spoken privately.
Gu Qin’s expression was grave as he addressed the throne: "Your Majesty, I believe this matter must not be publicized. If the world learns that bandits seek to restore a fallen state, I fear, first, that the people will panic; second, that the surrendered territories of the former Southern Kingdom may seize the opportunity to rebel; and third, that the Northern Frontier’s wolfish ambitions may become impossible to guard against."Zhou Bi stepped forward and said, "Prime Minister Gu speaks wisely. I surmise that this bandit uprising is merely a ragtag assembly of insolent rogues rallying deluded followers. Though they spout wild boasts, their rebellion lacks any coherent strategy and thus poses no real threat. If the troops and civilians in the Shu Province region remain vigilant, I believe these rebels will self-destruct within days..."
Before he could finish his words, Jiang Ping couldn't help but step forward, glaring with knitted brows, and said, "Hold your tongue about suppressing the bandits!" Then, turning to the throne, he spoke urgently: "Your Majesty, although the Secretariat has deliberated for the state's interests, they are unaware that the dense forests in the Shu Province area lie deep within the Jiankang Circuit's heartland. If we do not promptly deploy substantial troops to suppress the bandits, once they take refuge in the mountains to wreak havoc, they will surely hide among the forests and move southward along the routes. By then, completely eradicating them will be exceedingly difficult, and even a full army may struggle to contain their spread!"
Fang Kai pondered for a moment and followed up: "Your Majesty, the fact that these bandits have chosen to rise in Shu Province suggests they are not a foolish and disorganized mob. General Jiang's analysis is spot-on—we must dispatch troops promptly to suppress them. However, Minister Gu's point also holds merit: while suppressing the bandits, we must guard against the Northern Frontier and avoid excessive publicity."
Ying Gua placed his palms on his knees, his eyes cold and detached. "Where is Di Nian at present?"
Fang Kai replied, "He should be in Fenzhou, Jiankang Circuit."
Ying Gua said coldly, "Issue a secret decree appointing Di Nian as the Pacification Commissioner of Jiankang, remaining stationed in Fenzhou. Under the pretext of troop reductions, mobilize forces to suppress the bandits in Shu Province. Also, instruct Zhao Pingkong, the Regional Commander and Gate Attendant of Qianxia in Jiankang Circuit, not to deploy troops without Di Nian's orders, to prevent the Northern Frontier from detecting any clues. In Jiankang Circuit, bandits are to be executed on encounter; no amnesty orders are to be issued."
He stood up and paced a few steps before the officials, his eyes betraying irritation, then asked, "How many days has it been since this report was sent from Jiankang Circuit to the capital?"
An Maolin answered, "It was delivered by express courier without relay stops, taking only two and a half days."
Ying Gua thought briefly, nodded, and said, "Draft the decree to Jiankang immediately. Carry my gold token and bypass all relay stations—not a moment's delay is permitted."
Meng Tinghui had been standing at the back, listening silently, and only then spoke up: "Your Majesty, I have a suggestion, though I am unsure if it is appropriate to voice it."
He turned to look at her, but his gaze was complex. "Speak."
She said softly, "Although suppressing the bandits is urgent, quelling rumors must not be neglected. The bandits' rebellion likely uses the pretext of the surviving heirs of the former Zhongwan royal family to gather displaced people from surrendered territories and run rampant. To prevent others from emulating this in the future, regardless of whether the heirs are genuine or fake, we must ensure that during the suppression, they are captured, imprisoned, and sent to the capital to be dealt with according to law, thus correcting public perception."
He stood several steps in front of her and remained silent for a long while.
Thinking her suggestion might be inappropriate, she looked up at him and caught a fleeting, indescribable emotion in his eyes. But upon closer inspection, it was gone, replaced by the same cold detachment as before.
He immediately lowered his gaze, turned away from her, and addressed the ministers: "This proposal is excellent."
Only then did she relax slightly, letting out a long breath.
At least she hadn't stood there like a useless person, unable to help him at all.
By the time all the details were settled, night had fallen completely, and the Important Officials of the two councils bowed and withdrew in turn after receiving their orders.
The secret decree was dispatched that very night to Di Nian in the northern border. Aside from the two councils' ministers who had deliberated that evening, no one in the court knew about the bandit uprising in Jiankang Circuit. Meanwhile, the reduction of troops in the Military Strongholds along the borders of Chao'an and Linhuai Circuits continued methodically. The Privy Council had kept its lights burning for days on end, and only after receiving Di Nian's report that he had swiftly mobilized troops to suppress the bandits in Shu Province did everyone breathe a slight sigh of relief.However, just as the Mounted Archery Ceremony concluded ten days later, earth-shattering news arrived from the northern front, instantly stirring tumultuous waves in the previously tranquil court of the capital.
—The Northern Frontier had launched a military invasion.
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