Chapter 161: Just Take It by Force.

Chapter 161: Just Come and Take It.

"Wu Feng, that guy, actually became a Marquis? He's really climbed the ranks."

In the Shouning Palace, Wu Mo read the appointment notice twice, still unable to believe it.

The childhood friend who grew up with her—always seeming unreliable and always fooling around in her eyes—though everyone praised his skills, Wu Mo had never truly felt it.

Huo Ling laughed. "He went through life and death all the way, achieving such great merit. Why shouldn’t he be granted a title?"

Wu Mo thought it over and knew it made sense, but she couldn’t help repeating, "It’s just unbelievable. He’s definitely going to rub it in my face endlessly."

Huo Ling offered a suggestion: "It’s simple. First, make him treat you to a fancy dinner. Once you’re full and satisfied, tell him you’ve actually been recorded in the family register as the second young lady of the Huo family."

Wu Mo clapped her hands. "Your Majesty, that’s genius! Let’s see if he dares to show off in front of me again."

"Your Majesty," Zhu Qingyun reported, "County-Lady Sang requests an audience."

As soon as Sang Xuanqing entered, Huo Ling smiled. "You’ve gotten so much darker. It seems the trip was quite rough."

Sang Xuanqing touched her face. "It wasn’t too hard, just a lot of wind and sun along the way."

Huo Ling had her sit down. After the palace maids served tea and snacks, she asked why Sang Xuanqing had suddenly come to the palace.

Without beating around the bush, Sang Xuanqing said, "I wish to ask Your Majesty for a favor. I want to join the Shadow Pavilion and become a Shadow Guard."

Sang Xuanqing was the most talented among the younger generation of the Sang family. When Huo Ling sent her to Yanbei, there had been an implicit intention to test her.

But Huo Ling hadn’t expected Sang Xuanqing to make such a choice.

"Why do you want to enter the Shadow Pavilion?"

"Your Majesty already has capable Female Officials around you. There isn’t much room for me to shine by your side. That’s not what I truly desire."

"Shadow Guards aren’t as glamorous as you might imagine."

Sang Xuanqing replied, "While in Yanbei, I interacted with Commander Wu Feng and spoke with some Shadow Guards who escaped from Great Mu. I’m ready for it."

Huo Ling nodded. "Since you wish to try, then go ahead."

The Shadow Pavilion had suffered heavy losses and was short-staffed.

She had already planned to select a group of outstanding women to join the Shadow Pavilion and let them gain experience there.

Sang Xuanqing hadn’t been on her initial list, but since the girl had her own aspirations, Huo Ling was willing to grant her wish.

Thrilled, Sang Xuanqing said, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Huo Ling added, "As for your maternal uncle Sang, you’ll have to explain it to him yourself."

Sang Xuanqing assured her, "This little thing, Xuanqing will handle it. There’s no need for Your Majesty to worry."

Huo Ling kept Sang Xuanqing for lunch. After she left, Huo Ling decided to take a walk to settle her stomach.

The sun warmed the gentle breeze. In the courtyard, a few Weeping Crabapple blossoms clung to the branches, their petals swaying lightly.

Standing before a cluster of flowers, Huo Ling lightly brushed a petal with her fingertip and casually asked Wu Mo and Shang Lan beside her, "Have you noticed anything odd about An Er’s behavior these past few months?"

Wu Mo thought carefully but shook her head. "His Majesty’s behavior has been no different than usual these months."

Ji Xianshan still came to greet Huo Ling every morning as usual, staying by her side to learn how to manage state affairs, then accompanying her for lunch before taking his leave to attend to his own matters.

The interactions between mother and son, Fang Shi's manner, were also nearly identical to what Wu Mo remembered.

However, compared to her own judgment, Wu Mo clearly trusted Huo Ling's assessment more.

"What seems strange to Your Majesty?"

There were actually quite a few oddities. After some thought, Huo Ling summarized, "He doesn’t seem as affectionate toward me as before."

Wu Mo comforted her, "When children are young, they love to be clingy with their mothers. As they grow older, they naturally become too embarrassed to cling like they used to."

Shang Lan added, "His Majesty is already twelve or thirteen. In another two or three years, it’ll be time to consider marriage prospects, so he won’t depend on Your Majesty as much as he did in childhood. It’s only because Your Majesty is accustomed to the old way of interaction that you feel he’s less affectionate now."

Huo Ling, with a flick of her wrist, plucked a Weeping Crabapple before her: "It seems like just yesterday, An Er has grown so much. To me, he still seems like a child."

Wu Mo said, "Not just Your Majesty—I feel the same way. Earlier, I overheard some gossip from the Taihe Palace attendants, saying His Majesty often suffers from leg pain at night."

"No wonder he looks so unrested," Huo Ling remarked. "Why hasn’t anyone mentioned this before?"

Wu Mo replied, "His Majesty ordered them not to speak of it. Your Majesty is already busy enough—he didn’t want you to worry about him."

"That's ridiculous. Has a physician been summoned?"

Wu Mo answered, "Imperial Physician Chen has already examined him. Hasn’t Your Majesty noticed how much taller His Majesty has grown? Imperial Physician Chen said it’s just growing pains—nothing serious."

Huo Ling nodded and casually tucked the Weeping Crabapple behind her ear. "From now on, when An Er comes to Shouning Palace for meals, prepare a bowl of nourishing bone broth for him separately."

With that, the discussion among the three came to an end.

Wu Mo’s words answered some of Huo Ling’s questions, yet they also led her to ponder other matters.

In previous years, most of her energy had been focused on court politics, to dealing with opponents like Chen Haoyan, Wen Shengan, and Huo Shiming.

Now that the court had stabilized—Chen Haoyan still served as the Right Censor-in-Chief on his southern inspection tour, Wen Shengan had retired from public life, and Huo Shiming had ended all grudges with his own death—time had passed unnoticed.

Surveying the court, she found no officials remained who could challenge her.

Yet when she turned her gaze closer, it inevitably lingered on Ji Xianshan.

Her closest kin—and the one closest to her.

At last, she began to scrutinize him.

This young sovereign coming into his own.

Beneath the warmth of mother and son lay the emerging tension between the Empress Dowager Regent and the young emperor—a conflict that had already begun to surface and would likely dominate court affairs for years to come.

***

When Ji Xianshan started awake from his nightmare, the night outside was deep.

His right leg ached in waves, scattering what little sleepiness remained. He opened his eyes and, under the pale moonlight streaming in, stared at the yellow canopy above.

During the reign of the previous emperor, Weeping Crabapples had been planted all around Taihe Palace. After Ji Xianshan moved in, he kept them intact, only ordering some Western Crabapples transplanted beside them.

The Weeping Crabapple blossoms were showy but fragrance-free.

The Western Crabapple was different.

Now was also its blooming season, and as the night breeze drifted in, a delicate perfume wafted through.

Yet for some reason, the moment Ji Xianshan closed his eyes, he felt as though he had been dragged back to that cold palace.

The thick scent of blood and the delicate fragrance of crabapple blossoms overlapped in his memory, creating a nauseatingly cloying sweetness. Ji Xianshan almost bolted upright, tempted to order the immediate uprooting of all the western flowering crabapples in the courtyard. But common sense stopped him—he knew he couldn’t do that.

If he did, his mother would surely question him.

Just like a few days ago, when he was dining with her, a steaming bowl of bone broth had suddenly appeared beside him.

He knew.

Of course he knew it was her way of showing motherly love.

In the past, he had cherished such tender moments between mother and son. But the shocking events of New Year’s Eve seemed to rip away the comforting illusions in an instant, forcing Ji Xianshan to see everything clearly—and to ponder questions he had never considered before.

What kind of hatred and resentment could drive Huo Shiming to poison his own flesh and blood?

No, it wasn’t just a plot—Huo Shiming had already acted on it.

And what kind of hatred and resentment could drive his mother to resolve to decisively end everything with the very birthday gift Huo Shiming had given her?

Weren’t they father and daughter who were once close?

Hadn’t they also shared tender moments?

What had twisted and corrupted all of this?

Could family bonds watered with the blood of ambition ever remain pure?

Father and daughter turned enemies, flesh and blood turned against each other—was this the curse of power, or the inevitable destiny of imperial families?

Ji Xianshan draped an arm across his eyes and lay quietly until dawn, when the palace attendants entered to assist with his morning ablutions.

Zhou Jiamu had spent many years on the border, and now that he was back in the capital, he had little free time beyond occasional visits to the palace to chat with Huo Ling and Ji Xianshan. Most of his days were occupied with setting up his marquis' household, a stolen moment of peace in his busy life.

***

Before Zhou Jiamu left the capital, the court issued a new decree.

In addition to the national treasury, a separate "Frontier Treasury" was established.

From then on, all profits from border trade markets would be deposited into it. These funds were reserved exclusively for a future northern expedition against Great Mu, with the goal of retaking the lost Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun.

The person entrusted with managing the Frontier Treasury was one of the Empress Dowager's most trusted aides.

Though Great Yan and Great Mu were still engaged in a war of words, as Great Yan settled the families of fallen soldiers and provided for the disabled, the clouds of war began to disperse from the people’s minds.

Great Yan returned to rebuilding its strength, and peace was restored to the land. Yet a changing of the guard began.

Most of the senior ministers from the late emperor’s reign were getting on in years, and it would hardly be surprising if any of them were to take ill and perish.

In the winter of the tenth year of Celestial Reign, the Minister of Justice died.

The Vice Minister of Justice, Ding Jinghuan, assumed his position, becoming the youngest second-rank minister in the court.

In the fourth month of the eleventh year of Celestial Reign, the Commander of the Black Tortoise Guard petitioned to retire, and the Deputy Commander, Zheng Xinjue, was promoted to the post.

The following month, two more senior ministers passed away.

And the Noble Dowager Consort also passed away on a stormy night of thunder and rain.

Before going to bed, she told her chief maid that she wanted to have shredded chicken porridge the next morning.

When the chief maid entered the room with steaming shredded chicken porridge to wake her, she found that the Noble Dowager Consort had already passed.

Princess Leping entered the palace and wept bitterly.

Dowager Consort Shu, who had been both a rival and a close companion to the Noble Dowager Consort for half their lives, was also deeply affected.

In truth, the Noble Dowager Consort had passed peacefully, without suffering, and at her age, though it couldn’t be called a celebration of life, it wasn’t far from one.

But those left behind inevitably grieved.

After the funeral proceedings for the Noble Dowager Consort were completed, Princess Yang'an made a special trip to the palace to visit Dowager Consort Shu, hoping to take her out of the palace to live with her.

Dowager Consort Shu would occasionally stay with Princess Yang'an for a while, but most of the time, she remained in the palace, overseeing palace matters alongside the Noble Dowager Consort.

Over the years, many dowager consorts had either passed away or been allowed to leave the palace to reunite with their families, leaving the imperial harem much quieter. With the Noble Dowager Consort gone, Dowager Consort Shu had even fewer people to talk to.

Dowager Consort Shu was tempted by the idea.

But after some thought, she said to Princess Yang'an, "The Empress Dowager has always been generous to us. Now that the Noble Dowager Consort is gone, if I leave too, who’ll help the Empress Dowager?"

"The Emperor is growing up quickly. In a couple of years, when he marries and the empress enters the palace, I’ll transfer responsibility for the inner court to her. Then I’ll move out and live with you."

Princess Yang'an couldn’t just think of her own mother without considering the Empress Dowager’s burdens.

Besides, Dowager Consort Shu wanted for nothing in the palace, with all her needs met in the finest manner. To be honest, even Princess Yang'an, as her daughter, couldn’t offer much more.

Princess Yang'an said, "Very well, I’ll visit you more often in the palace from now on."

Dowager Consort Shu knew she was deliberately trying to cheer her up but couldn’t help smiling.

The mother and daughter shared a heartfelt conversation for a long time before Princess Yang'an mentioned that she was going to the Hall of Supreme Harmony to visit Ji Xianshan—he had fallen ill a few days earlier.

Dowager Consort Shu said, "Perfect. When you go, take the chicken soup I made for His Majesty."

"Mother, you’re biased! I’ve been here so long and haven’t even had a sip!"

Dowager Consort Shu playfully swatted at her. "As if I’d forget your share. You can drink it together with His Majesty."

Princess Yang'an asked, "How has His Majesty been doing in the palace lately?"

"How else? Who in the palace would dare mistreat him?" Dowager Consort Shu was puzzled by the question. "He’s grown taller but much thinner."

Since Princesses Leping and Yang'an moved out of the palace, Ji Xianshan had been the only child left there.

The dowager consorts had watched him grow up. They had no conflicts of interest with him—on the contrary, staying on good terms with him secured their standing in the palace.

From time to time, they would personally make clothes, shoes, and socks or prepare pastries and soups, sending portions to both the Empress Dowager and the Emperor as a token of affection.

Ji Xianshan was practicing calligraphy in his study when Princess Yang'an arrived. He was delighted to see her. "Second Sister, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Princess Yang'an used a book to cover his paper, stopping him from continuing. "I heard you were sick, so I came to visit. Honestly, you’re still recovering—why are you practicing calligraphy already?"

"I’m already better, just not supposed to be exposed to chilly air. There’s nothing to do lying in bed, and reading too long hurts my eyes, so calligraphy’s my only option."

"If your eyes hurt from reading, have someone read to you." Princess Yang'an placed a food box in front of him and feigned annoyance. "My mother’s something else. I came all the way to see her, and all she did was make chicken soup for you, then had me deliver it."

Of his two elder sisters, Ji Xianshan got along best with Princess Yang'an.

At her complaint, Ji Xianshan couldn't help but laugh and had someone fetch two sets of bowls and chopsticks, personally ladling Yang'an a bowl of chicken soup.

"Then drink up—I can't finish this alone."

Yang'an took the soup from Ji Xianshan's hands. "You *have* gotten thinner—no wonder Mother went to the trouble of making you soup."

Ji Xianshan smiled bitterly. "I’ve had more soups this year than what I drank in the past decade combined. At this rate, I’ll burst."

"Like it or not, you’re eating." Yang'an used serving chopsticks to place a piece of chicken in Ji Xianshan's bowl. "You’re skin and bones as it is."

Ji Xianshan drained his bowl with a grimace.

In the eighth month of the eleventh year of the Celestial Reign, Chen Haoyan uncovered a massive salt smuggling ring in the south and returned to the capital to report to the Empress Dowager and the Emperor.

A few years earlier, Chen Haoyan had been implicated by his wife's family, relegated from Left to Right Censor-in-Chief and exiled from the capital to oversee various southern prefectures, punishing lawlessness and arresting corrupt officials.

While the war in Yanbei raged on, the south was also far from peaceful. It was Chen Haoyan who mobilized local gentry and wealthy merchants, twisting arms and greasing palms, to stabilize the situation before the court's disaster relief supplies arrived, keeping southern unrest from boiling over and affecting the northern warfront.

At the time, some at court had pushed to recall Chen Haoyan to the capital.

But posts at that rank were limited, and without vacancies, it was better to keep him stationed outside.

Now, as his second term was about to end and he returned to the capital to report, his return coincided with Minister of Works Zhou Ji's passing, leaving the position vacant.

Zhou Ji had collapsed from heatstroke while inspecting a river construction site, fainting on the spot and passing away within days.

Huo Ling sighed over Zhou Ji—a rare official who was hardworking, accomplished, talented, and capable, and who had also died in office. She bestowed generous funeral gifts upon the Zhou family and personally conferred upon Zhou Ji the posthumous title "Loyal and Learned."

Time waits for no one, and after Zhou Ji's funeral, the question of who would succeed him as Minister of Works became the court’s hottest debate.

As Senior Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works, Qiu Hongzhen, after mourning his former superior, couldn't help but let ambition gnaw at him.

A staunch ally of the Empress Dowager, with Ding Jinghuan already serving as Minister of Justice, could he also rise to become Minister of Works?

After so many years in court, it was impossible for Qiu Hongzhen not to harbor some ambition. Given the chance to become Minister of Works, who’d settle for playing second fiddle?

But before Qiu Hongzhen could even begin scheming, gossip raced through the capital that his second son had fought with the grandson of an elderly imperial prince over a courtesan in a brothel—even coming to blows.

And it was his own son who had thrown the first punch.

Qiu saw red. Grabbing a rod, he began beating his son, deaf to pleas.

The next morning, impeachment memorials against Qiu were already piled on Huo Ling's desk.

Not only did censors submit them, but even members of the imperial clan joined in.

Qiu Hongzhen entered the palace to beg Huo Ling for forgiveness, kneeling on the ground and repeatedly admitting his failure in disciplining his son.

Huo Ling waved her hand. "Enough, rise."

Qiu Hongzhen shuffled forward on his knees. "Your Grace is merciful, but my second son is truly useless. After I return, I will take him to the prince's residence to apologize."

Huo Ling said, "You and the old prince are of the same mind. He came to see me this morning, also saying he would personally bring his grandson to apologize. Since both families are so reasonable, just settle the matter properly between yourselves. It’s not such a grave issue that it needs to reach me."

This old prince was actually quite distantly related to Ji Xianshan, but his age and rank commanded respect—technically a cousin of Emperor Gaozong and a great-uncle of the late Emperor—giving him some standing among the imperial clan.

Qiu Hongzhen repeatedly thanked Huo Ling, though he couldn't help feeling somewhat disappointed.

In truth, he was well aware that his situation differed from that of Ding Jinghuan.

He had never made any mistakes in court, but neither had he achieved any particularly outstanding merits. Climbing to the position of Left Vice Minister of Punishments was no small feat.

Compared to Chen Haoyan, who had served locally with remarkable achievements and deep seniority, he had no real advantages to speak of.

His only real edge was his staunch loyalty to the Empress Dowager.

But right at this crucial juncture, such an incident occurred—it seemed he was bound to lose out on the post of Minister of Works entirely.

Disappointed, Qiu Hongzhen went home and took his frustration out on his second son with another thrashing, leaving the boy wailing and swearing he would "never dare again." Only then did Qiu feel slightly better.

Oh well—what’s meant to be will be. If he couldn’t become Minister of Works, he would just have to grind out a few more years to build seniority. At his age, he could still afford to wait.

A few days later, Chen Haoyan arrived in the capital and immediately went to the palace to pay homage to Huo Ling.

The fragrance of tea filled the hall—Sichuan Meishan tea, Chen Haoyan’s favorite.

"Imperial Censor Chen, during your tenure in the provinces, you once oversaw water conservancy projects. I imagine you must have solid know-how in flood management."

Chen Haoyan hadn’t expected Huo Ling to know such a minor detail.

This had been his achievement thirty years ago.

Then again, among officials who had once governed regions, how many—unless they were utterly incompetent—hadn’t had experience with flood control, road-building, bridge repairs, or reclaiming wasteland?

"You honor me, Your Majesty. What I oversaw was merely a tiny, unremarkable levee."

"However modest, it still benefited an entire county, sparing the locals from floods for over thirty years."

After chatting for a good half-hour, Huo Ling directed him to Ji Xianshan: "His Majesty has been speaking of you, his teacher. Go and see him. When you leave the palace, I’ll have a physician accompany you. You and your wife have had a taxing trip—let the physician examine you and prescribe some tonics."

Even if Chen Haoyan had been forced out of the capital by the Empress Dowager years ago, he had to admit that Her Majesty’s graciousness was genuinely reassuring.

But while the Empress Dowager comported herself with majesty, the young Emperor also displayed the dignity befitting royalty.

Ji Xianshan caught Chen Haoyan’s arm to stop his bow: "Teacher Chen, you’ve looked gaunt and worn."

Chen Haoyan replied, "Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty. Over the past two years, you’ve sent my wife and me many fine gifts, and I’ve been making good use of them. It’s just that the recent heat and a month cooped up on a boat have left me somewhat weary. With a little rest, I’ll recover soon."

Ji Xianshan said cheerfully, "If they suit Teacher Chen, I’ll send more."

Only after inquiring about Chen Haoyan’s health did Ji Xianshan ask about his three-year tenure in the provinces. As Chen Haoyan recounted the affairs of the south, the Emperor now frowned, now clapped in approval.

From start to finish, Ji Xianshan did not mention a single word about the Ministry of Works.

When Chen Haoyan left the palace with Imperial Physician Chen, he couldn’t help but lift the carriage curtain and glance back at the palace bathed in golden sunlight. He sighed to himself: *The Emperor has grown up.*

Yes, he had.

Everyone who hadn’t seen Ji Xianshan in a long time would feel the same upon meeting him again.

Ji Xianshan grew taller every year. Though his rapid growth left him somewhat slender, he had completely shed the boyishness of his youth, now bearing the defined angles of manhood.

His hair pinned by a white-jade crown and clad in a black robe, he was every inch the poised noble.

It wasn’t just his appearance that had changed.

His demeanor had also gained far more poise.

When speaking with court officials, he no longer let his moods cloud his judgment, nor did he blurt out his opinions. Instead, he would first listen carefully to each minister's words before calmly voicing his own thoughts.

As a descendant of the late emperor and the empress dowager, and having grown up under her guidance, Chen Haoyan believed that with more time, the emperor would undoubtedly mature into a ruler even more outstanding than his father.

After resting at home for a few days, Chen Haoyan learned that the edict promoting him from Right Censor-in-Chief to Minister of Works had circulated through the court the day after he left the palace.

On the officials' day off, Chen Haoyan brought southern delicacies and visited Lu Hang’s residence.

Lu Hang was brewing tea in the courtyard and said bluntly: "You already left the capital to avoid trouble—why rush back at such a critical moment?"

Chen Haoyan replied, "It just happened to coincide. Besides, weren’t you the one who recommended me for Minister of Works?"

Lu Hang shot back, "Who asked you to come back now? It was my duty—if I didn’t recommend you, wouldn’t that be negligence?"

Chen Haoyan: "..."

Lu Hang had it both ways, just another reminder of how annoying the old man could be.

Chen Haoyan fired back, "It’s hard for you to leave the capital, but avoiding trouble is easy. You’re not getting any younger—just hand in your resignation and step aside for the young."

Lu Hang shot Chen Haoyan a look but said nothing, his expression making it clear: *We’re about the same age, and I look much younger than you.*

Chen Haoyan was so annoyed he gulped down three cups of tea before asking, "Who was the one who acted against Qiu Hongzhen?"

Lu Hang replied, "How would I know? Doubt it was the old prince—he’s long withdrawn from court affairs."

Of course, it wasn’t the old prince himself, but that didn’t rule out someone from his household.

Chen Haoyan remarked, "That was a dumb move."

More than unwise—it was idiotic.

Lu Hang said leisurely, "Shouldn’t you be glad someone cleared the path for you?"

Chen Haoyan had no comeback. If he couldn’t handle a nobody like Qiu Hongzhen on his own, he might as well retire early.

With a sigh, Chen Haoyan changed the subject: "Before arriving in the capital, I received a letter from Wen Shengan."

Lu Hang frowned slightly. "What did he say?"

"He said..." Chen Haoyan glanced around. Though no one was nearby, he leaned closer to Lu Hang, his voice barely audible yet carrying immense weight, "Huo Shiming’s death... must be connected to Her Majesty the Empress Dowager."

Like a thunderbolt striking his heart, Lu Hang—who had weathered four decades of political storms—was so stunned he almost toppled over.

Lu Hang firmly denied it: "Absolutely impossible. You’ve just returned to the capital, and Wen Shengan is thousands of miles away—he’s clueless about what really happened. I’ve reviewed the interrogation reports from the Ministry of Justice, the Court of Judicial Review, and the secret guards. Everything aligns—that strategist named Kong Yi was indeed the leader of Great Mu’s spies."

Chen Haoyan let out a relieved breath.

Compared to Wen Shengan’s judgment, he naturally trusted Lu Hang’s assessment more. After all, Wen Shengan had long left the court, while Lu Hang remained in the capital as the Minister of Personnel, with access to far more intelligence than either of them.

"You’re right. Wen Shengan still holds too deep a grudge against the empress dowager."

Outside, thunder and rain raged. When Huo Ling was awakened by the storm, the palace was still dark as night, but the hushed footsteps and whispers of the servants told her it was already late.

"What time is it?"

***

"Your Majesty, it's morning."

This was an hour later than Huo Ling usually woke up.

With no pressing matters at court today, Huo Ling finished her washing up and sat before the bronze mirror, picked up a wooden comb to slowly comb through her hair.

Wu Mo entered carrying a vase: "Your Majesty seems in a good mood today."

The vase was filled with freshly cut branches from the greenhouse.

As the faint flower scent wafted over, Huo Ling remarked casually, "I dreamed of the previous emperor last night."

"What did Your Majesty dream?"

"The twenty-first year of Jingyuan, when I first arrived in the capital. The previous emperor sent Cui Hongyi to ask me what I was thinking and smiling about when I entered the city. Truthfully, I was also wondering what he was thinking while watching me from Fan Tower."

Wu Mo took the cue: "Did Your Majesty ever ask His Majesty?"

Huo Ling set down the comb and slipped on her outer robe: "No. Because I didn't absolutely need to know the answer, and because I could guess the gist of it."

Yet she had remembered the previous emperor's final glance at her for many years, often wishing she could have asked.

Last night, in her dream, she finally asked the question.

The previous emperor didn't answer, but in that moment of waking, she understood.

Perhaps she hadn't been unable to guess—only that for so long—

In the cold, lonely mourning hall, a small child had huddled in her arms, clutching her sleeve while whimpering quietly;

During her constant arguments with Wen Shengan, An Er always stood by her side, glaring at Wen Shengan with shared indignation, even acting out on purpose during his lessons.

Though Wen Shengan never complained, she had scolded the boy upon learning of this, teaching him to respect his teacher and ministers, not to throw tantrums at senior officials just because he was emperor.

The child's eyes welled up with tears, but he jutted his chin stubbornly, refusing to let tears fall or show weakness before her.

Yet when she gently touched his face, praising him softly and acknowledging his protective intent, he suddenly threw himself into her arms and wept uncontrollably, promising never to do it again, swearing he'd never dare if it upset his mother.

Every spring when crabapples first bloomed, he would pin a Weeping Crabapple blossom in her hair.

He would squirm in her lap pleading for one more sweet.

He would beg playfully for a taste of fine wine.

The first character he ever wrote was guided by her hand holding his.

When he began learning archery and horsemanship, she lifted him onto the saddle, personally teaching him each step.

No matter how busy, she made time to do all the things from her childhood she'd done with her father—or wished to but never could—now sharing them with her son.

She told him of Yanxi, of the Qiang Rong tribes, of the Sixteen Prefectures of Yanyun, of Great Mu.

All the words bearing her ideals and aspirations, she had repeated to him over and over.

For so long, she had avoided those questions. But now, just the position of Minister of Works had many getting restless.

Though Chen Haoyan was clearly more qualified than Qiu Hongzhen, some still plotted against the Qiu family's second son for "absolute certainty," ensuring Qiu Hongzhen missed the ministerial post entirely.

Beneath the placid surface, dangerous currents were already swirling.

As a mother, she cherished her child; but as a ruler, she needed to make her own choices.

In the spring of the twelfth year of Celestial Reign, when crabapple blossoms bloomed everywhere and the spring breeze carried warmth,

it was merely an utterly ordinary court assembly.

The civil and military ministers rose early, donned their court robes, and rode in carriages toward the imperial palace. Following the illuminated lanterns, they traversed the long palace pathways before finally arriving at the Hall of Golden Chimes.

The sky had not yet brightened, and the light inside the hall was dim.

Some ministers bowed their heads, eyes closed, resting, awaiting the start of the assembly.

Others flexed their stiff limbs to avoid any lapse in decorum before the throne.

One minister’s gaze drifted upward before casually shifting away.

Yet the next moment, as if noticing something, they snapped their gaze back.

Since the winter of the twenty-sixth year of Jingyuan, when Empress Dowager Huo began her regency, she had added a throne behind the emperor’s seat, beginning her twelve-year rule from behind a curtain.

Most ministers had grown used to Empress Dowager Huo’s presence. With a mere glance upward, they could see not only the gradually maturing emperor seated upon the throne but also Empress Dowager Huo, seated behind the silk curtain.

But now, that yellow curtain…

Had been removed.

Once the first noticed something was off, then a second, a third…

More and more courtiers realized something was amiss.

The once-noisy Hall of Golden Chimes fell into a deathly silence.

Only when eunuchs streamed in, declaring in sharp tones, "His Majesty is present, Her Majesty the Empress Dowager is present," did the stillness break.

Ji Xianshan ascended the steps as usual and took his seat upon the throne.

He straightened his wide sleeves and swept a casual glance over the assembly below, only to find the ministers gaping upward.

Puzzled, Ji Xianshan turned his head—

And his face twisted in shock.

"Mother…"

Huo Ling swung her sleeve and sat upright upon her throne. Without glancing at Ji Xianshan, she addressed a nearby eunuch: "The hour has come."

The eunuch looked between Huo Ling and Ji Xianshan, his face conflicted.

Ji Xianshan’s eyes flashed with hurt.

He called out again, "Mother."

Huo Ling replied, "Your Majesty, court is in session."

Ji Xianshan lifted his chin, defiantly holding her gaze. After a long moment, he was the first to yield, turning his attention to the ministers below.

The courtiers shared nervous looks before one finally stepped forward: "Your Majesty, is this not against protocol?"

There was no need for Huo Ling to respond—others quickly countered.

Facing an Empress Dowager who had ruled from behind the throne for many years with profound prestige, it was difficult to constrain her with so-called rules.

She was the first Empress Dowager Regent in Great Yan. Before her, there had never been any precedent in Great Yan.

The precedents the courtiers could trace were all antiquated precedents from past dynasties.

The two sides argued endlessly until someone else spoke up: "Your Majesty previously ruled from behind the veil—why suddenly remove it now?"

This was what everyone truly cared about.

Whether the screen was removed or not may appear trivial, but politics should never be taken at face value.

If the Empress Dowager removed the screen today and the courtiers offered no reaction, what if she later wanted to shift her throne’s placement, modify her ceremonial robes, or even don imperial regalia to worship in the ancestral temple?

This was a simple gesture.

More accurately, it was the Empress Dowager’s gambit against the court.

The grand court assembly erupted like a marketplace.

The opposition argued fiercely, the wavering faction deliberated, and the Empress Dowager Faction stood firmly behind her.

Above them in the grand hall, the two principals—Huo Ling and Ji Xianshan—remained silent.

After a long while, Ji Xianshan spoke softly, "Is this what Imperial Mother wants?"

Huo Ling replied, "Every minister qualified to attend the grand court assembly has seen my face—what use is the screen? From the very first day I sat here, I found this screen a nuisance, yet it remained for over a decade."

Ji Xianshan suppressed his emotions but could not help turning to meet Huo Ling’s gaze again. "What Imperial Mother removed was not just a screen, was it?"

"Was it?" Huo Ling chuckled lightly, her voice gentle as she admonished gently, "Do not overthink it, Your Majesty."

Ji Xianshan’s lips trembled slightly. He knew all too well that he was powerless to stop this. If so, then any words would be futile.

He sank back into his throne, but Huo Ling continued to watch him.

—*Before the new emperor’s grand wedding, military and state affairs shall be deferred to the Empress Dowager’s judgment.*

*Before the new emperor’s grand wedding.*

These six short words were both a bestowal and a leash.

The authority of the Empress Dowager Regent flowed from the emperor’s delegated authority.

More precisely, the existence of a regent empress dowager had always been to wield the throne’s mandate for a child emperor.

What the entire court most wished to see was that when the emperor was too young to govern alone, the Empress Dowager would decide military and state affairs. Once the emperor came of age, she would gradually transfer power, ultimately relinquishing the reins of state and retiring to the inner palace to live out her twilight years.

This would not only earn her a good reputation but also strengthen the bond between mother and son. Both the courtiers and the emperor would remember her years of regency with gratitude.

But—why should she?

In the cutthroat currents of court politics and the ruthless struggle for power, how many lives had she claimed? The authority she held had been clawed her way to step by step.

He Tai, Prince Duan, Princess Consort of Duan, Ji Yuanwan, Duke of Liu...

Chen Haoyan, Wen Shengan... even her own birth father.

With every opponent she defeated, her hold on the throne grew firmer.

Every shred of power is hard-won, so how could it be easily relinquished?

She could delegate a portion of her power to others, using them as tools, but she would never abandon her own authority, nor would she stand by as others encroached upon it.

Even if the one standing against her was her own child.

If they wanted her to return power, they would have to take it by force.

In a pack of wolves, only by defeating the reigning alpha can one be crowned the new leader.

Power has never belonged to any single individual; it is held only by those who are more qualified and capable of mastering it.

If he could defeat her, she would gladly witness the dynasty gaining a ruler better than her.

In the end, she had cultivated a more outstanding successor—for herself and for the empire.

If he could not defeat her...

If he could not defeat her...

After twelve years of presiding over court and holding military and political authority, she already possessed the authority of an emperor.

Unwilling to relinquish power, yet the emperor was soon to marry—could she remain the Empress Dowager forever?

She had to decide first, and preparations must begin early.

In the fourteenth year of the Celestial Reign, on the Emperor's Birthday when the Empress Dowager turned thirty-six, she announced the addition of the Phoenix Tallies alongside the Tiger Tallies, decreeing that all regional troop movements must present both tallies simultaneously—failure to do so would be deemed treason.