Who could have foreseen that sovereign and ministers would later turn against each other, the bird shot once the bow was stowed? When the Jiang Family departed for distant Chilly Province, did they regret that choice?
Sorrow gripped Prime Minister Lin’s heart. Involuntarily, his gaze turned to Xue Yunyi.
The one stroke of fortune was that the Eldest Princess took after Empress Jiang, bearing not a trace of the Emperor’s shadow.
Xue Yunyi was naturally reluctant to see Prime Minister Lin go. He was already over seventy, and the road back to his hometown was long and far. Who knew when they might meet again? Meeting his gaze, she couldn’t help but speak up to keep him there. “Master Lin, what about This Palace’s lessons…”
Prime Minister Lin fell silent for a moment before replying, “I’ve taught Your Highness everything I know. You are exceptionally intelligent. I… have nothing left to teach you.”
Xue Yunyi’s throat tightened, leaving her speechless.
The Emperor grew impatient. “Prime Minister Lin is getting on in years. If he wishes to return home and enjoy his twilight years in peace, Zhen won’t stand in his way. But the princesses’ studies cannot be neglected—especially Qingzhi’s. She hasn’t learned much from Prime Minister Lin all these years. From now on, she must apply herself a hundredfold.”
Only then did the Emperor turn a heavy gaze upon Xue Yunyi. “Zhen summoned you here for this very reason. Zhen has had Azure Serenity Pavilion prepared. In the future, you will study there alongside Qingzhi under the new tutor.”
With this arrangement, the Emperor intended for Xue Yunyi to witness firsthand that Qingzhi was merely young and playful. If she truly buckled down, she would surpass Xue Yunyi by leaps and bounds.
Only then could he feel at ease in his heart, and Qingzhi’s position as Crown Princess would be beyond question.
Xue Yunyi silently assented. The Emperor then turned back to Prime Minister Lin. “Tutoring the princesses is a grave responsibility. The post of prime minister is even more critical, vital to the stability of the court. It cannot remain vacant for long. Does Prime Minister Lin have anyone suitable to recommend?”
“There is one person in my mind who could shoulder this burden.”
“Tell Zhen.”
Prime Minister Lin cupped his hands and said solemnly, “Yuan Xiubai, Chief Clerk of Lang Province.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a sharp clatter rang out, as if a cup had fallen in the room.
Both Xue Yunyi and Prime Minister Lin started in surprise and instinctively looked toward the sound. Behind the green gauze curtain hanging at the Emperor’s side, a woman’s trembling hand emerged. She shakily gathered the scattered porcelain shards from the floor, wrapped them in a cloth, and then fell utterly still.
The Emperor coughed heavily.
Prime Minister Lin hastily averted his eyes, not daring to stare, and continued from where he had left off. “Does Your Majesty still remember this man? Six years ago, you personally selected him as the Top Scholar of the new imperial exams and intended to place him in the Hanlin Academy. Yet Yuan Xiubai requested to return home and took up the post of Chief Clerk in Lang Province instead. In my view, he possesses the talent to govern the realm. It would be a great pity to let him languish there for the rest of his life.”
The Emperor frowned in thought for a moment. “Very well, Zhen will follow Prime Minister Lin’s recommendation. Zhen shall draft an edict at once to summon Yuan Xiubai to the capital.”
He waved his hand wearily, signaling Xue Yunyi and Prime Minister Lin to withdraw. Li Fuzhong tactfully followed them out and carefully shut the door behind him.
Only now did the tension ease from the Emperor’s brow and eyes. He rose and approached the curtain, lifting it aside to gently take Consort Jiang’s hand in his.
“What was that just now?”
“Your consort is fine. I was simply thirsty and reached for some tea but couldn’t hold the cup steady.” Consort Jiang gazed at the mess on the floor, her mind clearly elsewhere. “I’ve disturbed Your Majesty—it’s my fault. I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”
“What does that matter? Your hand is what truly concerns Zhen. Let me see if you’re hurt.” The Emperor sat down beside her, his eyes full of concern.
But Consort Jiang suddenly drew her hand away.
“Did Your Majesty say you would summon Yuan Xiubai, Chief Clerk of Lang Province, to the capital? Is that true?”
The Emperor nodded. “Zhen remembers the man—he does have some real ability. And it’s quite a coincidence: he’s from Lang Province, just like you, and he’s been assisting your father all these years. Zhen knows how much you miss your family at home. Zhen will have him bring a personal letter from your father to ease your homesickness.”
Consort Jiang remained silent for a long moment, allowing the Emperor to take her slender white-jade hands back into his own and stroke them gently.
“Your consort thanks Your Majesty for this boundless grace.”
By the time they left the Imperial Study, the rain had lessened somewhat. But the wind was still damp and chill, stinging their cheeks.
Xue Yunyi spotted Prime Minister Lin from afar, waiting for her beside the palace path.
Her master had grown old. Unbeknownst to her, his hair had turned white and his steps had grown unsteady. Yet his back remained unbowed, standing tall in the rain like a crane in green robes and jade belt, his white hair upright as a pine.
Xue Yunyi’s eyes grew wet without her realizing it.
Prime Minister Lin walked toward her. She hurriedly wiped the corners of her eyes and instructed Mo Ying to hand him the umbrella.
Prime Minister Lin lightly pushed Mo Ying’s hand away. Then, to her shock, he lifted the hem of his robe and knelt solemnly before her.
Xue Yunyi was horrified and instinctively tried to rise and help him up. But her two numb legs dragged her back down onto the wheelchair. Her voice trembled with anxiety. “Master Lin, why this grand gesture? The ground is wet and cold. Please stand—you’ll catch a chill, and your legs will ache tonight.”
“This bow is the rite of a minister to his princess.”
Ignoring Mo Ying’s attempts to stop him, Prime Minister Lin prostrated himself fully.
“Ever since the Empress passed away, I knew Your Highness harbored deep grief, which left you listless and despondent. Seeing you now revived in spirit, studying diligently day and night, fills my heart with relief. I hope Your Highness will remain diligent and never forget the lessons I once taught.” Prime Minister Lin lifted his head, pausing before adding, “Should I live to see Your Highness ascend the throne one day, I can depart this world in peace.”
Prime Minister Lin had always been cautious with his words. For him to say such things openly on the palace path showed his utter disillusionment with the Emperor. Mo Ying glanced nervously toward the Imperial Study, but its doors remained tightly shut, with only a few palace maids waiting outside, heads bowed as they carried water.
If this had happened when she was a child, Xue Yunyi would have run over and clapped her hand over Prime Minister Lin’s mouth. But now, she could only sit fixedly in her wheelchair, forcing a pale smile onto her lips.
“Don’t speak such nonsense, Master Lin. You must live to a ripe old age of a hundred.”
Prime Minister Lin merely shook his head with a sigh. He rose shakily, saluted her once more, then turned and brushed off Mo Ying’s offer to help him along. He walked away alone, slowly proceeding down the palace path.
Watching his gaunt, retreating figure, Xue Yunyi could no longer hold back. She slumped against the back of her chair, letting two trails of clear tears stream silently down her cheeks.
After choking back sobs for a moment, she finally murmured, “Take care, Master Lin.”
She had begun studying under him at the age of six. Within these towering palace walls, aside from her mother the Empress, he was the only person she had ever truly been close to.
She had long come to revere Prime Minister Lin as a father.
Her mother was gone. And now, Prime Minister Lin was leaving her too.
Xue Yunyi closed her eyes. The patter of rain around her sounded like the mournful strains of a sorrowful lute.
A wave of desolation suddenly washed over her heart.
It was as if a rusty, blunt knife were slowly carving away the last bit of living flesh from her heart.
By the time she returned to her chambers, Xue Yunyi had begun to cough. She touched her forehead and found it burning hot.
Mo Ying hurriedly carried her to the bed and rushed off to summon Judge Wu.
“Your Highness has caught a wind-chill from the damp, accompanied by a high fever. Moreover, you’ve been brooding unhappily these past days, causing your qi to stagnate and flow poorly.” As Judge Wu scribbled out a prescription, he cautioned her, “Your Highness must avoid agitation over the next few days. Try to dwell on pleasant things—that way, you’ll recover more quickly.”
Lying on the bed, Xue Yunyi felt Judge Wu’s words echoing heavily in her ears, pounding against her skull.
Ever since her mother’s passing, she had indeed been forcing herself to hold on. The illness had been suppressed for so long that a bit of rain had drawn it all out at once, wreaking havoc on her body.
Her fever had drained all color from her lips. Feeling utterly miserable, she drifted into a hazy sleep before Mo Ying could even brew the medicine.
When she opened her eyes again, night had fallen.
Xue Yunyi rubbed her throbbing temples as Mo Ying carefully helped her sit up. In a hoarse voice, she asked, “What time is it?”
Hearing her speak, Mo Ying sniffled, on the verge of tears. “Your Highness, it’s already the hour of Xu. You’ve slept the whole day away and scared this servant half to death! Please have some tea to soothe your throat first. I’ll fetch the medicine right away.”
She trotted toward the entrance of the hall but suddenly remembered something and hurried back, whispering a report. “Your Highness, Wu Lang heard you were ill and wishes to come in to see you and pay his respects. He’s been kneeling outside for three hours already. Shall I let him in?”