Guards, equipped with sheathed sabers and clad in the Forbidden Army uniform, stood rigidly around the hall, while eunuchs waited silently along the covered walkway.
The sun stood at its zenith, and the silence was absolute.
Li Tong swallowed hard; this was his first day on duty, and his heart felt lodged in his throat.
He stood motionless at the foot of the steps for a long moment.
A eunuch spotted him and gestured him forward.
Li Tong steeling himself, walked forward with a visible tremor.
“The memorial regarding the Dongyang disaster, which His Majesty requested…” he managed, his voice shaking.
The eunuch glanced at him.
“New here?” he asked, stifling a laugh as he observed the thick sweat coating the man’s face.
What kind of greenhorn is this?
The eunuch’s smiling gaze sent a chill through Li Tong. Remembering his family’s instructions, he swiftly retrieved a red envelope from his sleeve.
“I trouble Your Excellency to announce my presence,” he murmured, proffering the packet with a still-shaking hand.
Well, well, not bad for a first try, the eunuch thought, smoothly accepting the offering without breaking his composed smile.
“Wait there,” he said, turning to enter the hall.
Li Tong’s heart hammered against his ribs; he felt as if his clothes on his back were already soaked through. An eternity seemed to pass before the eunuch reappeared.
“Please come in,” the eunuch said with a broad smile, gesturing them in.
The eunuchs lining both sides immediately pulled the massive doors apart.
This moment was inevitable, Li Tong knew. Yet, now that it arrived, a strange calm settled over him as he stepped across the threshold.
The hall was vast and spacious, filled with the lingering scent of incense.
Li Tong dared not lift his eyes. He stood near the entrance for a moment, swallowing again.
“Your Majesty…” he began, raising the documents to offer obeisance, his voice inevitably hoarse.
“Here.” A languid voice responded from within.
Li Tong cautiously raised his head, only to find the Dragon Throne empty; he froze in confusion.
“Here,” the voice repeated.
Li Tong finally shifted his gaze and saw a figure seated behind the floor-length silk screen on the right side of the hall.
Gathering his courage, he walked over, lifted the drape, and stepped inside, seeing the Emperor once more since their last encounter.
The Emperor was reclining on a luohan couch, surrounded by a towering stack of memorials. He was currently bowed low over one document, showing no sign of pausing his work for Li Tong’s entrance.
“Your Majesty,” Li Tong said, bowing deeply and holding out the document.
“Place it down,” the Emperor instructed.
The Emperor read quickly; the brief exchange of question and answer was over, and he reached for another scroll.
Li Tong looked at the memorials piled around him, uncertain where the one in his hand should go.
Only then did the Emperor look up.
“Ah,” he said, squinting as he studied Li Tong. “New?”
Li Tong immediately bowed low in affirmation.
The Emperor has already forgotten me. How should I introduce myself? I practiced so many dialogues at home, but now, standing before him, my mind is utterly blank.
“Is your grandfather feeling better?”
A voice drifted down from above him.
Li Tong was momentarily stunned.
“Yes, much better,” he stammered out quickly.
The Emperor smiled, setting down the scroll he held and looking directly at Li Tong.
“Is your grandfather’s mind quite sound?” he asked. “With your demeanor before the sovereign, he actually dared to send you here? Is that affection, or is he setting you up for ruin?”
Li Tong had rehearsed every possible conversation, but this… this was beyond anything…
He stood dumbfounded.
The Emperor watched him, a faint smile playing on his lips, rhythmically tapping the memorial in his hand. He said nothing, clearly waiting for a response.
The hall fell utterly silent.
“I thank Your Majesty for your boundless grace,” Li Tong suddenly exclaimed, dropping to his knees and knocking his head to the floor.
The Emperor seemed slightly surprised, shifting his posture.
“What are you thanking Us for?” he inquired.
“It is because of Your Majesty that I have achieved this day,” Li Tong confessed, his face pressed to the floor.
The Emperor laughed softly.
“Oh? How is that because of Us?” he asked.
“I am dull-witted and a son born of concubine. I could not even remain in the capital, let alone have this opportunity to stand before the sovereign. All this is because I was fortunate enough to exchange a few words with Your Majesty. Therefore, everything I have today is granted by Your Majesty,” Li Tong said, his voice trembling.
As he spoke, recalling the dizzying change in his fortunes at home over the last few days—his sister escaping that nightmarish betrothal, himself not only spared exile but suddenly elevated to the Cabinet, walking in the Emperor's presence, and the way those who once ignored him now fawned—a lump formed in his throat. He had been enveloped in happiness, smiling everywhere he went lately, but now, in this profound quiet before the Emperor, as the noise of the world receded, a deep sorrow welled up instead.
“Having attained this much, I have no regrets even unto death,” he choked out.
The Emperor let out a soft chuckle.
“Leave the memorials here; these are the ones I haven’t looked at,” he directed.
The sudden change of subject left Li Tong momentarily bewildered.
“Put them down. Is the duty period very light?” the Emperor added, glancing toward the foot of the couch.
Li Tong hurriedly stood and placed the documents where the Emperor indicated.
The Emperor then lowered his head and resumed reading. He used no brush, instead dipping his finger in the nearby ink, marking the scrolls with occasional dots.
It was rumored this was the Emperor’s newly favored method of reviewing memorials, a habit that had once driven the four Ministers of Scrutiny to kneel outside the palace gates in protest.
Li Tong stood quietly for a moment. Assuring himself the Emperor was fully engrossed and had no further need of him, he slowly retreated.
Just as he stepped outside the silk curtain, the Emperor spoke again.
“That,” he began.
Li Tong stopped immediately, and the Emperor’s voice trailed off.
A beat of silence hung in the air.
“Never mind. You may go,” the Emperor concluded.
Li Tong acknowledged him and withdrew.
The Emperor rested his chin on his hand, gazing at the curtain, and smiled faintly before returning his attention to the memorials.
But this quiet moment did not last long; it was shattered by sudden noise from outside.
Few dared to make such a disturbance here…
The Emperor frowned.
Then, a eunuch entered.
“Your Majesty, Imperial Physician Zhou requests an audience.”
That old fool is back?
The Emperor raised a hand slightly.
Even through the hanging screen, the eunuch understood the gesture. He quickly turned back and announced the summons. Before he finished speaking, a man tumbled and scrambled into the hall, collapsing onto the floor.
“Your Majesty!” he cried out, his voice thick with tears.
The Emperor was startled, looking at the dusty, disheveled figure kneeling on the polished floor, which was now marred by a patch of grey earth from the man’s entrance.
“Zhou Maochun, were you robbed?” the Emperor asked, unable to hide his amusement.
“Your Majesty.” Zhou Maochun looked up, his face smeared, appearing on the verge of tears. “My Lady Qi…”
“Dead?” the Emperor inquired, shaking his head, a touch of schadenfreude mixed with feigned sympathy. “My condolences…”
Zhou Maochun wiped his nose with his sleeve.
“No, not dead,” he said.
“That’s why I offer condolences,” the Emperor laughed.
“No, gone,” Zhou Maochun wailed.
“You old fool, that’s precisely why I’m offering condolences!” the Emperor retorted, tossing a memorial lightly at him.
Zhou Maochun slapped his own cheek in frustration.
“She’s not gone, I just couldn’t find Lady Qi! They say she came to the capital!” Zhou Maochun explained.
The Emperor roared with laughter, imagining the ordeal the physician must have endured on his journey, judging by his current state.
“Serves you right!” he bellowed. “Who told you not to listen to Us and try to curry favor on your own!”
Zhou Maochun felt both aggrieved and regretful, yet had no words to argue.
“Enough. It’s better that you’re in the capital now. Go find your Lady Qi,” the Emperor instructed. “But clean yourself up first; you’re embarrassing the Imperial Medical Academy looking like that.”
Mentioning his appearance only made Zhou Maochun truly begin to weep.
“Your Majesty, Lady Qi has left again,” he cried, hitting the floor with his fist.
The Emperor paused, then burst into even louder laughter.
The eunuchs outside exchanged glances.
“His Majesty hasn’t laughed this hard in ages,” one whispered.
“Physician Zhou is truly skilled; no wonder His Majesty favors him so,” murmured another.
Zhou Maochun was deeply displeased that the Emperor’s joy was built upon his misery. He looked up at the Emperor, disregarding decorum.
The Emperor struggled to contain his mirth.
“Then go quickly and chase her, lest you miss her again,” he chuckled.
“Your Majesty, I can’t catch up. Lady Qi cannot be found,” Zhou Maochun said, wiping his nose again.
The Emperor grew genuinely curious.
“How can she not be found?” he asked.
“I don’t know; she’s just gone,” Zhou Maochun replied, crawling a few steps closer on his knees. “Your Majesty, I came specifically to beg you to lend me the Forbidden Army and issue an edict ordering the prefectures and counties to assist me in the search…”
The Emperor didn’t let him finish, hitting him again with a memorial.
“You old rascal, you really dare to think that!” he laughed. “To search for your sweetheart, you scheme all the way to Us? We haven’t even deployed those resources to search for…”
He coughed, cutting off his own thought mid-sentence.
“Search for whom? Is Your Majesty also looking for someone?” Zhou Maochun, despite his age, had keen hearing and sharp eyes. Forgetting his own distress at the refusal, he asked with concern.
“Go away, go away,” the Emperor waved his hand. “Go clean yourself up. Stay far from Us; you stink.”
Zhou Maochun bowed his head dejectedly and left.
Where had Lady Qi gone? Many pondered this question without finding an answer.
“She must have gone traveling,” Fan Yilin declared without hesitation, pouring wine for Li Tong as he spoke.
“It’s truly a pity; I haven't been able to thank her personally,” Li Tong replied, gesturing for Fan Yilin to drink as well.
“Lady Qi doesn't care about that,” Fan Yilin said with the proprietary air of someone who considered her ‘one of their own.’
Li Tong smiled.
“Are you settling into the Ministry of Personnel?” he inquired.
That question seemed to sour Fan Yilin’s mood; his face darkened.
“I estimate you won’t see me around much longer, perhaps in ten days or half a month,” he said.
Li Tong was confused.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll be worked to death,” Fan Yilin grumbled. “Busy at the Ministry all day, then back home to report every detail of the day to my father, followed by his lecture. Just when that’s finished, back in my own courtyard, I have to report everything again to my wife! I sometimes wonder, why doesn’t my wife just wait at my father’s place and listen once? Splitting it into two sessions just tortures me!”
Li Tong burst into hearty laughter.
“Being busy is good, being busy is good,” he laughed.
Fan Yilin raised his wine cup and stared out the window.
“Good for nothing! Oh, my heavens!” he suddenly shouted.
Li Tong jumped in alarm.
“What is it?” He followed Fan Yilin’s gaze toward the street below.
They were seated in a private room on the second floor, overlooking the bustling thoroughfare.
As Li Tong finished asking, Fan Yilin launched the wine cup in his hand downward with lightning speed.
“Bastard! Finally, he’s fallen into Grandpa’s hands!” Fan Yilin roared, leaning so far out the window he was practically horizontal.
Li Tong panicked and grabbed hold of Fan Yilin’s robes, holding him tight, fearing he was about to jump.
What on earth is happening?
He followed the line of sight. The street was thronged with people—young and old, men and women—and he couldn’t tell which unfortunate soul Fan Yilin had struck. Three or four people were looking up now.
Clearly, none of them was Fan Yilin’s target, as he immediately turned back and blindly grabbed another wine cup and a flask from the table.
“Bastard, stop right there for your grandfather!” he shouted, smashing the new objects down with force.
The street erupted in chaos as the crowd screamed and scattered, revealing a tall, imposing man in the center. The man looked up, his expression stern, his dark brows tightly furrowed.
Four eyes met between the upper and lower floors.
Li Tong saw the man’s lips twitch slightly, and he gave a subtle point. Instantly, five or six men nearby looked up, then moved forward. They appeared experienced; two immediately took positions at the entrance, while the others rushed inside.
Though there was distance between the floors, Li Tong could feel the man’s sharp, piercing aura—this was no ordinary person!
Li Tong violently pulled Fan Yilin back from the window ledge.
“Brother Fan, this joke is too much; this man is not someone to provoke!” he urged desperately.
The heavy thud of footsteps ascending the staircase was already audible.