The heat of the capital had somewhat abated by the end of August, though the midday sun remained oppressive.

A string of young eunuchs silently carried ice basins through the side door into the main hall.

In stark contrast to the scorching heat outside, the room within was noticeably cool.

A soft thwack sounded from behind the yellow gauze curtain.

An attendant standing at attention swiftly lifted the drape and entered.

The Emperor, clad only in a loose, pale blue linen robe, was leaning against a white jade **, tossing memorials from the desk before him one by one.

That was the source of the sharp noises.

Unrushed, the Emperor propped his head with one hand and flung the documents with the other, even attempting to stack them neatly with his throws at the end.

His narrow eyes narrowed further, and his thin lips pressed together; though the activity was clearly tedious, he appeared exceptionally focused.

The attendant watched from the side, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

“Your Majesty…” he murmured, bowing low, “In this scorching weather, to be shut in here playing games—if the Grand Secretaries found out, they’d be kneeling and clamoring again, giving Your Majesty a headache.”

The Emperor threw the final document and, finding it tiresome, sat up. The slouching robe nearly slipped off, revealing his sturdy chest.

His throne had been won by military conquest; his ancestor, the Grand Ancestor Emperor, had secured the empire through campaigns, and his own father had grown up amidst battles. By the time the Emperor was born, his grandfather had firmly established the realm, but the martial spirit had not entirely faded. Thus, from childhood, alongside his studies, he had trained in the imperial grounds. Naturally, as a precious royal heir, he hadn't faced real swords, but his physique had been diligently forged strong.

Emperor Qing of the Great Xia stretched his arms and straightened his robe.

“Utterly boring,” he stated.

“The Empress Dong is fishing at Jade Wave Pond, Your Majesty; it’s cool there. Shall we go join her for some amusement?” the attendant suggested with a smile.

The Emperor rubbed the corner of his eye.

“Too saccharine. No,” he replied, then shifted his position, once again resting his head in his hand.

“Then, shall we go listen to Consort Lian play the qin?” the attendant offered next.

“Irksome,” the Emperor responded curtly.

The attendant circled the desk, gently fanning him.

“The Imperial Garden just received several songbirds; their calls are delightful. Shall this old servant take Your Majesty for a stroll?” he added happily.

The Emperor opened his eyes, showing a spark of interest.

“Ah, yes,” he said, extending a hand in dismissal, “I had forgotten about these novelties.”

The attendant breathed a sigh of relief. Serving this Emperor was never easy, especially one so mercurial. But at least there was something to capture His Majesty's attention.

He was about to flick his horsetail whisk and move to fetch the Emperor’s palanquin when the Emperor spoke again.

“Go, order the Imperial Kitchen to prepare and send them over for me.”

The attendant nearly tripped over his own whisk. He stared at his sovereign in astonishment.

“Mmm,” the Emperor mused, squinting in thought, then raised his hand again, the wide sleeve sliding down to reveal a long arm. “Stew two, and roast two as well!”

The attendant nodded once. Right, he should have known this master’s tastes diverged from the ordinary.

“Very good, Your Majesty,” he replied, bowing deeply before retreating. He only turned back once he reached the gauze curtain.

“Add plenty of Sichuan peppercorns, no chopped scallions,” the Emperor called out from behind.

Well then, Lord Salt Commissioner, your gift wasn't wasted after all. His Majesty eating contentedly is better than keeping it stored away.

The attendant gave a loud affirmation and hurried off.

Here, the Emperor looked back at the memorials on the desk, sighed, and picked one up.

“Why do they keep multiplying the more I look…” he muttered, reclining as he opened the document to read.

Meanwhile, in another chamber, four or five men were engaged in a heated discussion.

“Should this memorial really be submitted?” one asked, holding two or three documents.

“Absolutely not. What’s such a minor issue that it needs to be brought directly to the Emperor?” someone else argued.

“What’s a minor issue?” another objected, pointing at a document. “Yongqing Prefecture is reporting an epidemic!”

“What epidemic?” the first man flipped through the pages. “There’s no epidemic like this… Look, today there’s a strategy proposed by Madam Qi… a female strategy… an ck@…”

An elder who was about to enter pushed the door open, paused when he saw the crowd inside, and immediately withdrew his foot.

“What?” he demanded loudly.

His sudden exclamation startled the group.

“Lord Zhou,” they rushed forward to offer their greetings.

Zhou Maochun waved his hand impatiently.

“What is it?” he asked again.

What? The men looked at each other, confused.

“The matter in Yongqing Prefecture?” Zhou Maochun pressed, “The woman?”

He spoke with a noticeable tremor of excitement. Anything reported to the Imperial Medical Office must relate to medicine. Yongqing Prefecture, women's medicine—could it possibly be only…?

“Oh, Lord, it’s this one; please look,” the man holding the documents quickly handed them over respectfully.

Zhou Maochun took them, glanced once, and then burst into hearty laughter.

“It really is her!” he chuckled.

The others were bewildered by his outburst.

“You recognize her, My Lord?” one ventured to ask.

“Of course I recognize her. She is a miracle doctor,” Zhou Maochun declared, wearing an expression that suggested their ignorance was astonishing.

A miracle doctor?

“Who is it?” several inquired quickly.

“Didn’t you read the memorial?” Zhou Maochun glared. Being naturally sharp since childhood, able to read ten lines at a glance and possess a photographic memory, he usually loathed dealing with slow-witted people.

The men exchanged rueful smiles.

“We read it, but we can’t be presumptuous,” they explained.

“You read it and still ask?” Zhou Maochun retorted, clutching the memorial and turning to leave.

They quickly called out to stop him.

“Lord, where are you going?” they asked.

“To deliver this to His Majesty! Such a momentous event, why the hesitation?” Zhou Maochun stated.

“Lord, Lord!” the men rushed up and stopped him. “But, but we haven’t deliberated on it yet… We absolutely cannot startle His Majesty.”

Deliberation, submission to the Cabinet, further deliberation, and only then could it reach the Emperor’s sight. How could one send it over so rashly? They hadn’t even clarified the situation fully.

“Deliberate what? If Madam Qi says it’s an epidemic, then it’s an epidemic!” Zhou Maochun glared, slapping the documents in his hand. “Do Madam Qi’s words require deliberation?”

With that, he swiftly departed, seemingly heading toward the Imperial Palace.

The others stood frozen on the spot.

Why were Madam Qi’s words exempt from scrutiny?

And…

“Who is Madam Qi?” one stammered blankly.

Indeed, who was Madam Qi? The men looked at each other, utterly perplexed.

A gust of wind blew past, and Qi Yue sneezed.

“It looks like it’s going to rain,” A’ru noted.

Qi Yue nodded, continuing to walk along the path without speaking.

“Ah Hao said the Second Mistress has been to the house several times, weeping daily, demanding to see you,” A’ru changed the subject to say.

“That won’t do. Her constitution is too delicate; she cannot come here,” Qi Yue replied.

A’ru nodded in agreement.

They had reached the lake as they spoke.

Just as Wang Qiao’er had said, the finest view of this residence was this lake.

Qi Yue gazed at the water’s surface.

“Also, you still refuse to enter the city. Many people have dragged Wang Qingshun out of prison and are demanding he kneel at the city gates to welcome you in…” A’ru continued, smiling slightly.

Qi Yue smiled faintly.

“It’s not because of Wang Qingshun; I just…” She trailed off, seeming unable to articulate why, only knowing she didn't want to enter the city.

Why not? She didn’t know herself…

Or perhaps, she didn’t want to go anywhere…

“What’s wrong? You seem…” A’ru hesitated before asking her question.

Logically, the last few days should have been filled with joy. The populace believed her words, the officials had listened and acted decisively, and the quarantine and treatment for the epidemic were proceeding effectively. Although some people had still died, overall, the outbreak was now under control.

Qi Yue remained silent, her gaze fixed on the lake.

She hadn't expected so many people to die, especially when she knew precisely how to save them. As a doctor from a modern hospital, she had rarely faced such widespread loss of life, except from disasters beyond human control like floods, fires, earthquakes, or crashes. Infectious diseases rarely caused such massive fatalities in the age of modern medical technology.

“A’ru, I am constantly exhausted, and very… afraid,” Qi Yue said, still watching the lake. “I… I am not from this place… I am alone… I know what I can do, but it feels like I can do nothing. If I don't act, my conscience torments me; if I do, I fear it will be for naught. I reach out, and everything seems within my grasp, yet it all feels like quicksand, impossible to hold onto… A’ru, sometimes when I stand before you all, I feel like screaming. The things I say, the things I do, the habits I have that shouldn't require constant explanation, must be repeated endlessly, yet there is still a veil between us…”

As she spoke, she extended her hand. Fine threads of rain had begun to fall, dancing on her palm.

“I want to shout and tear that veil apart. That’s why, back then, I said those extreme, harsh words. I’ve had enough, I can’t bear it anymore…” she murmured.

A’ru was already weeping silently.

Qi Yue stared at the lake, reached up, and unfastened her outer garment. Before A’ru could react, she took a few steps and plunged into the lake water.

A’ru’s sharp cry echoed with the splash of entry. Seeing the woman vanish beneath the surface in an instant, her legs felt weak, and her throat locked up.

Time seemed to stretch for an eternity before A’ru spotted an arm breaking the surface, cutting a graceful arc through the water before smoothly disappearing again.

A’ru sat on the ground, slowly coming back to her senses, feeling as if she had been jolted back to life.

Qi Yue took a breath, dove under, and began to swim with desperate energy. She had removed her cumbersome skirt, wearing only the undergarments she had designed for Ah Hao to make. She gradually merged with the water, feeling utterly relieved.

She kept swimming, as if she were back at the pool she often visited.

“Moon, keep going! Break the record!”

Faintly, she heard her father’s voice through the undulating water, seeming to stand by the pool’s edge.

“Break what record?” Her mother and sister’s laughter followed. “With her dog paddle, what record could she possibly break?”

“Break her own record,” her father replied with a smile.

The lake water flowed before Qi Yue’s eyes, and the sound of applause seemed to come from both near and far.

“Break your own record! Go!”

“Beat your last time!”

Go! she willed herself, accelerating her strokes and pushing forward again.

The fine lines of rain turned into large drops, striking the lake surface chaotically, soon obscuring everything in a vast expanse.

www.RT No Pop-up Novels Online