Chapter 20: Don’t Want Me to Take a Queen?

Chapter 20: Don't Want Me to Take an Empress?

The words struck Ling Yehan like an icy stake through his heart in the dead of winter. His mind went blank with a roar, his body turning cold from head to toe, and for a moment, all sorts of thoughts flooded in.

Xiao Chen set down the brief in his hand and looked up to see Ling Yehan staring at him with dark, incredulous eyes.

"What? Is our Marquis dissatisfied, planning to defy a decree again?"

The cool tone instantly snapped Ling Yehan back to his senses. He spoke without thinking:

"I wouldn't dare, Your Majesty."

Seeing the troublemaker subdued, Xiao Chen’s expression softened slightly.

"The situation in Qianzhong is complex now. Compared to serving as a guard before the emperor, life there will be much harder. Sending you abruptly is asking a lot of you."

Ling Yehan had already calmed down. In his previous life, he hadn’t returned to the capital for years and naturally hadn’t intervened in Qianzhong’s affairs. However, he did remember that in the third year of Zhaowu, there had been unrest in Qianzhong. Before it was quelled, two rivers flooded, and he had sent grain there. Although later, after peace was restored, Xiao Chen had the Ministry of Revenue return the grain he’d sent.

Qianzhong was a tough nut to crack. Back then, Xiao Chen must have worked tirelessly over it. Given a second chance, he couldn’t just linger around him without doing anything:

"I’m not troubled. I’ll go."

Seeing him so compliant, Xiao Chen felt much more at ease.

"You probably aren’t familiar with the affairs in Qianzhong. The memorials and briefs are all over there. Finish reading them before this evening meal and then report back to me. You may go."

Ling Yehan looked up and saw a stack of memorials on one side of the imperial desk. Zhang Fu was about to have someone help move them out for him. Ling Yehan quickly raised a hand to stop the young eunuch. He took a couple of steps over, then hesitantly looked up:

"Brother, can I read them here?"

The thought that he might not see Ling Yehan for a long time made Xiao Chen want to take in every glimpse of him now.

Xiao Chen looked at him like a puppy that hadn't been weaned yet, then recalled the young man’s ambiguous feelings for him. Had he really kept him by his side for so long that he’d grown attached? Reason told him to have this troublesome one and the memorials bundled up and tossed out immediately. But seeing those reluctant, slightly pained eyes, he felt a twinge of softness.

Very well. Who knew when he’d return from Qianzhong? He waved a hand.

"Sit down and read properly."

Ling Yehan immediately obediently moved an embroidered footstool himself and sat properly at one side of the imperial desk. He opened the top memorial, and even with his head bowed, he could catch glimpses of the figure in the black dragon robe and the hands holding the imperial brush. Those hands had well-defined knuckles, with a slanting scar on the back—a leftover from the assassination attempt on the emperor in Suizhou six years ago. He had been the one to bandage that wound back then.

Unconsciously, his thoughts drifted along with those hands, sometimes recalling past battles, other times remembering events from his previous life.

Xiao Chen glanced sideways twice and both times saw him with his head down but his eyes glazed over, staring at the memorial. This absent-minded look was exactly the same as when he was learning characters by his side as a child. If he wasn’t watched closely, he’d soon be hanging his head, lost in thought. By the third sidelong glance, Xiao Chen could bear it no longer. He set down the vermilion brush:

"Are you more interested in my memorial?"

Ling Yehan jumped, sitting up straight abruptly. Remembering he’d been caught peeking, his cheeks flushed uncontrollably:

"No, I'll read more carefully."

This time, he didn’t dare let his eyes wander again and began reading the memorials seriously.

Although he hadn’t personally handled the bandit troubles in Qianzhong in his previous life, he had been in power for over a decade and knew quite a bit about Qianzhong. He was also accustomed to reading memorials. He flipped through them one by one, reading quickly, combining what he saw with his past understanding of Qianzhong to plan how to act once he arrived. He was afraid he wouldn’t finish before the evening meal.

Xiao Chen had acupuncture from the imperial physician upon waking. Although the nausea had been suppressed, his dizziness persisted. His body felt as if he’d been fighting for three days straight—achy and weak. Sitting for too long made the old injury in his lower back ache faintly. He rested his wrist on the edge of the imperial desk, closed his eyes to steady himself, then opened another memorial. After reading two pages of long-winded formalities that never got to the point, anger welled up inside him.

*Smack.*

The memorial was flung aside. Everyone in the hall jumped in fright. The young eunuchs knelt trembling. Ling Yehan, too, looked up, startled by the sound. No one in the hall dared breathe loudly. In the end, it was Ling Yehan who stood up, poured a cup of hot tea, and offered it with both hands to the emperor, whose face was dark with anger.

"Your Majesty, who made you angry?"

Xiao Chen leaned back in his chair, took the teacup, and his tone remained sharp: "What? Planning to go teach them a lesson on my behalf if I tell you?"

"Of course, just say the word. I'll grab this petition and go find them."

Ling Yehan's soldier's defiant attitude resurfaced, looking as if he were ready to pick a fight with whoever it was.

The atmosphere in Purple Palace Hall was peculiar. The young eunuch, who hadn't been in the palace for long, couldn't help but steal a glance at the Marquis of Jingbian, while Zhang Fu remained composed, keeping his eyes politely averted, unfazed by the marquis's display of loyalty to the emperor.

Xiao Chen snorted in amusement. He lowered his gaze and took a sip of tea, then jerked his chin slightly toward the memorial on the floor. Ling Yehan, like a trained hound, immediately ran over to pick it up. Out of habit, he opened it, and with just one glance, his years of reviewing memorials kicked in. He frowned instinctively:

"Whose memorial is this? It rambles endlessly without getting to the point."

Xiao Chen glanced over: "You've improved. You can actually recognize poor writing now."

Ling Yehan felt a pang of guilt: "I hate it when people use up pages on formalities. Don't they know paper is expensive these days?"

Xiao Chen shot back bluntly: "That's because you couldn't write one even if you tried."

Truth be told, Xiao Chen had always preferred reading Ling Yehan's memorials. Over the past two years, even the battle-hardened officers had started hiring scholars to polish their memorials, with increasingly elaborate greetings and longer submissions. Only this stubborn one persisted in writing just one line: "Your servant respectfully wishes Your Majesty good health and success in all endeavors," accompanied by his chicken-scratch handwriting and plain language—except for that one time he hired a scribe during his imprisonment.

Ling Yehan didn't dare retort. He flipped to the next page and realized it was a memorial urging the emperor to appoint an empress. A pang of jealousy surged in his heart:

"Wang Shuxuan wrote all this preamble just to persuade Your Majesty to establish a consort. He must be trying to get a Wang family woman into the harem, that scheming old man..."

He stopped himself mid-rant. Although Xiao Chen had never taken an empress in his previous life, he couldn't be sure if things would change this time. The mere thought of Xiao Chen possibly taking an empress made his teeth ache with jealousy.

Xiao Chen raised an eyebrow. He had only read the first two pages earlier and hadn't seen the main point.

"Bring it here."

Ling Yehan reluctantly handed over the memorial. Xiao Chen flipped to the later pages and confirmed it was yet another petition urging him to select consorts and appoint an empress to stabilize the empire. He studied Ling Yehan's expression, taking in every detail, and asked knowingly:

"You don't want me to take an empress?"

Ling Yehan worried the hem of his robe. Not wanting Xiao Chen to think he was being overly willful or controlling, he offered a plausible-sounding excuse:

"Well, if you marry a woman from a powerful family, wouldn't those influential clans gain even more influence?"

Xiao Chen replied casually: "So, you'd prefer I appoint an empress from a humble or common background?"

The vinegar in his heart finally overflowed. The words "I want you to choose me" stuck in his throat, and he nearly wore a hole in his robe with his fidgeting. Seeing no use beating around the bush now, he blurted out:

"No, I don't want you to take an empress."

He had even prepared himself—if Xiao Chen pressed further, he would seize the moment to confess everything. He had never intended to keep his feelings hidden forever, and with his impending departure to Qianzhong, it would give them both time to process.

But to his surprise, Xiao Chen merely responded with a noncommittal "Hmm" and asked nothing more.

Ling Yehan breathed a sigh of relief, yet felt an indescribable sense of disappointment.

Half an hour later, Imperial Guard Ling Yehan arrived at the duty office with the memorial in hand, his waist adorned with a sword, looking quite imposing:

"Where is Censor Wang Shuxuan?"

Wang Shuxuan immediately stepped out from the inner duty room:

"I am here."

Ling Yehan threw the memorial at his feet:

"By His Majesty's decree: Memorials are not a place for you to show off your fancy writing. From now on, all memorials submitted to the court must be short and to the point. Anyone who submits redundant or flattering memorials will be punished by kneeling in front of the Council Hall."

This decree was not just for Wang Shuxuan alone; all officials in the duty room bowed respectfully:

"We humbly obey His Majesty's decree."

Ling Yehan swept his gaze over the censors in the room. Most of these censors came from aristocratic families and looked down upon the officials who had fought alongside Xiao Chen to secure the empire. They were also dissatisfied with Xiao Chen's policy of suppressing the aristocracy while elevating those of humble origins, often causing trouble in court matters. Seizing this opportunity to reprimand them, Ling Yehan showed no mercy:

"Shouldn't censors act as honest advisors, rectifying the conduct of officials and upholding integrity? Yet now, it is you who excel in hypocritical flattery—not only spouting off endlessly in court but also showing off your literary skills in memorials. Do you think this proves your education? It brings shame to the esteemed censors of past dynasties. If you have nowhere else to flaunt your writing skills, why not go to the pleasure barges to display your talents? Do not waste His Majesty's time with such memorials."

The censors in the room felt both humiliated and angered by these words. It was clear that this was not part of the emperor's decree but Ling Yehan's personal addition. However, since the emperor's decree had indeed mentioned "redundant flattery," they could only suppress their anger. Watching their faces turn flushed with anger, Ling Yehan finally felt a sense of satisfaction. With his sword at his waist, he turned and strode out of the duty office, leaving behind an arrogant figure for all the officials to see.