Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Snow filled the courtyard, and wind drilled through the cracks into the room. The attending eunuch was adding fuel to the brazier.

Fang Zhihe, who had been tormented all night by Lu Wuyou, blinked awake groggily, feeling the deep, piercing cold. He stiffened in the bedding and called out hoarsely, "Xiaoyun, what time is it?"

Startled by the voice, the young eunuch's iron tongs clinked against the brazier with a *ding*.

He hurriedly prostrated himself and replied timidly, "Your Majesty, it's 3–5 AM."

Fang Zhihe ached all over, unable even to lift his hand. He closed his eyes again and asked, "When did... Lord Lu leave?"

The eunuch whispered, "He left at 1–3 AM."

Fang Zhihe said "Oh," then, "Did he... never mind," he paused, and asked again, "Why is it so cold today?"

"Your Majesty, a heavy snow has fallen outside." The young eunuch half-lifted his head to look at the man on the bed, who huddled in the blankets, looking weaker than usual.

Fang Zhihe gave a faint response. The pain tormented his body relentlessly, making it impossible for him to calm his mind.

He buried himself under the covers and sighed, "Send for Minister Qi."

The brazier burned fiercely, and there was underfloor heating beneath. Xiaoyun was sweating lightly in the bedchamber; he couldn't understand where the young emperor's cold came from.

Qi Guan, having heard Xiaoyun's words in the side hall, hastily threw on an outer robe and hurried over.

His heart was in turmoil. He knew that Lu Wuyou, that scoundrel, had gone to Huaishu's bedchamber last night, and he also knew that Lu Wuyou never knew his own strength... Huaishu—how badly was he injured?

The snow drifted leisurely through the air. Qi Guan stepped over the snow-covered ground, and within moments his hair and shoulders were dusted with white.

He pushed the door open gently, and immediately saw the man on the dragon bed frowning, his face slightly flushed.

"Huaishu?" Qi Guan called out.

Fang Zhihe stared at him hazily, and after a long moment, suddenly smiled. "Lanning, what a heavy snow."

He had loved snow since childhood. When little Changlin was nestled in their mother's arms, he would stand in the courtyard in his padded coat, watching how snow covered the world.

And, incidentally, watching Lu Yuntai build a snowman under the tree.

That man also loved snow immensely.

He insisted to himself that he only happened to glance at him.

Qi Guan took the cloth from Xiaoyun and dried himself off, his expression grim. The temperature in the bedchamber was very high; even in just a single-layer robe and an outer coat, he felt warm as spring. How could Fang Huaishu be shivering from cold?

"Do you want me to check you, or should I call Doctor Xie?" he asked.

Fang Zhihe smiled. "If Doctor Xie saw me like this, do you think I'd still be alive to hold court?"

Qi Guan couldn't smile back. He dismissed Xiaoyun and fetched a basin of hot water himself.

He soaked a cloth in the hot water, then pulled back Fang Zhihe's brocade quilt. His expression shifted.

He saw the black-and-blue bruises on the naked body and the red and white mess below. Qi Guan let out a humorless laugh. "He really wanted to kill you."

Fang Zhihe didn't answer. Last night had been like hell, a memory he dared not recall. He knew why Lu Yuntai treated him this way, but he would only do as he did—he wouldn't kill him, so there was only compromise.

Compromise and make him Prime Minister, to keep him by his side, steady and permanent.

That would be worth it.

Fang Zhihe grimaced, baring his teeth at Qi Guan. Qi Guan, expressionless, wiped him down. "You're the emperor. You can have anything you want."

The young emperor muttered, "Isn't this what I want, after all?"

"Then why didn't Fang Zhiyuan, who grew up with Lu Wuyou, go begging to be beaten like this?"

"How can you compare them?" Fang Zhihe frowned in displeasure. "My younger brother loves the mountains and rivers, sun and moon. How can someone as ordinary as me compare? I wouldn't dare, let alone invite comparison."

Qi Guan frowned as well. He simply couldn't understand Fang Huaishu's twisted reasoning. No one would speak of themselves like that.

Especially since this man was the renowned Lord of the Clouds from the previous dynasty—gifted in both civil and martial arts, noble and refined. What words in the world could describe him?

"How does Fang Zhiyuan compare to you? He loves everything in the world, but that doesn't make him any more refined than you."

Fang Zhihe made a gurgling sound, as if he was swallowing something. After a long while, he said, "He loves the world; I love only him."

How can a broad-minded person compare to a narrow-minded one like me?

Qi Guan naturally knew who that "him" was. Not knowing what to say, he applied medicine to Fang Zhihe's wounds, silently calculating how long until morning court, and changed the subject: "The realm's been peaceful, and you've never missed court. Why not take today off?"

Fang Zhihe, feeling his wounds ache, thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Today I'm issuing the edict appointing the Prime Minister. I need to give the courtiers an explanation."

Qi Guan held back, then couldn't help swearing, "That Lu Wuyou doesn't even care!"

Fang Zhihe blinked and smiled. "I am the emperor. What I say goes. Whether he cares or not, he has to care."

At 5–7 AM, the officials entered the hall. Fang Zhihe, in his yellow robe, sat high on the throne, with Qi Guan beside him.

Fang Zhihe sat in a cold sweat. Qi Guan carefully supported his waist, blocking it from view. Fang Zhihe stiffened and looked down at the court.

There stood the man in a grand red court robe with a bird pattern, a black gauze cap adorned with pearls and jade flowers, and a jade pendant hanging from his girdle.

Fang Zhihe stared at the pendant for a moment, amused, but kept his face cool and aloof.

Lu Wuyou seemed in high spirits today. Seeing Fang Zhihe looking at the pendant, he gave a slight bow. "Your Majesty, did you rest well last night?"

How bold and reckless, Fang Zhihe thought.

"Minister Lu, I slept fine. That's all thanks to your thorough guidance last night." Fang Zhihe said seriously.

Seeing Lu Wuyou's expression darken a little, Fang Zhihe was secretly delighted. Truly amusing—if you humiliate me in court, I ought to give you some face in return?

Fang Zhihe watched him lower his head, probably cursing under his breath, and felt much better than before. With a faint smile, he said, "I've read most of the memorials from my ministers. Many concern construction projects in the capital area. I think building one's own residence is no big deal, but... building on my own doorstep is truly rare indeed."

Minister of Public Works Wang Yinhai immediately knelt and said in a low voice, "Your Majesty! I am also investigating this matter. The impeachments from colleagues are piling up like winter snow. I... beg Your Majesty for more time."

"Minister Wang, no need to hurry. I'm just curious—how does the Fang mansion have such influence..." Fang Zhihe lifted his eyelids and scanned the white snow outside the hall.

Wang Yinhai was stunned for a moment, then quickly said, "I understand what to do!"

"Good. Sorry to trouble you, Minister Wang," Fang Zhihe sighed.

"Your subject thanks Your Majesty!"

Fang Zhihe raised his hand and took the imperial edict held by the eunuch beside him, paused for a moment, and said abruptly, “Lu Wuyou, I appointed you as Prime Minister yesterday—and yet you seemed quite dissatisfied.”

Lu Wuyou frowned. “I would never dare.”

“What else don’t you dare?” Fang Zhihe extended his hand. “Come—stand before me.”

Lu Wuyou’s face paled, as if repulsed by something foul.

Fang Zhihe smiled faintly, watching him slowly approach, then handed him the edict. “Read it yourself.”

Lu Wuyou glanced up at him, eyes burning with intense disdain—a fire fierce enough to scorch Fang Zhihe’s smile from his face.

“I have plenty of jade pendants at my residence. After court adjourns, I’ll have someone send you some,” he murmured softly.

Lu Wuyou gave a slight nod. “Your Majesty’s gracious favor is deeply appreciated.”

“Read it aloud—so all my ministers may witness precisely what post satisfies Lord Lu,” Fang Zhihe remarked lightly, reaching out to pat Lu Wuyou’s arm.

Lu Wuyou frowned, unrolled the edict, turned toward the assembled ministers, and proclaimed loudly: “By Heaven’s grace, His Majesty the Emperor decrees: General Yuhong has rendered distinguished service in expelling the Tartars and laboring tirelessly for the nation. Lu Wuyou is hereby specially appointed Rector of the National Academy and Tutor to the Crown Prince, to instruct the future pillar of the state. Let this be known!”

The court sank into an even deeper silence.

Fang Zhihe smiled faintly, observing Lu Wuyou kneel and bow before him. Then he asked, “Lord Lu, this is a third-rank office—just one step below Prime Minister. Are you satisfied?”

Lu Wuyou looked up and returned the smile. “Your Majesty’s kindness is deeply appreciated.”

“Then, after court adjourns, go pay your respects to the Crown Prince.”

“Your humble servant… obeys the decree.”

Author’s Note