The snow fell heavier and heavier, accumulating knee-deep where few people walked.

Deng Ying walked back to the Inner Eastern Depot office, where the Ceremonial Office had already sent someone to deliver mourning clothes.

Deng Ying lit a candle and sat behind his desk to rest for a moment before removing his shoes and bending down to roll up his trouser legs.

His frost-bitten ankle was almost too painful to touch. Deng Ying endured the pain as he stood up, intending to move the charcoal fire closer to his feet when he heard Yi Lang’s voice at the door.

“Director.”

Deng Ying started, looking up to see Yi Lang standing in the doorway, his face red from the cold, his whole body trembling.

He hurriedly moved to add charcoal to the brazier, but then remembered the formal greetings hadn’t been performed, and found himself suddenly awkward, not knowing what to do.

“You stand there and perform your greeting, I’ll add the charcoal.”

Yang Wan’s voice came from behind Yi Lang. She walked in rubbing her hands, speaking while closing the door, and turned to go toward the charcoal basket.

Only then did Deng Ying kneel to perform the greeting, his shoes not yet put on, the old wound at his ankle exposed outside his mourning robes.

Yi Lang looked at Deng Ying’s injury and asked Yang Wan, “Why won’t the Director’s foot injury heal?”

Yang Wan picked up the charcoal basket and said, “Because the Director never listens.”

Deng Ying hurriedly responded, “Your Highness, forgive this servant’s impropriety.”

Yi Lang shook his head, “I came suddenly, the Director has committed no fault. Rise.”

Deng Ying stood up, supporting himself against the ground.

Yang Wan moved the brazier to his feet and said softly, “Let me take a look, has it swollen again from the cold?”

Deng Ying said, “His Highness is present.”

Yang Wan smiled slightly, “All right then, put your shoes on.”

Then she said to Yi Lang, “Your Highness, come warm your hands.”

Yi Lang obediently crouched by the fire basin, joining Yang Wan in warming themselves.

Only then did Deng Ying bend down to put on his shoes, lowering his head to ask Yang Wan, “Why did you bring His Highness here?”

Yang Wan watched the firelight and said, “I didn’t bring His Highness here, he wanted to see you himself.”

Hearing this, Deng Ying turned sideways, “Does Your Highness have questions for this servant?”

Yi Lang gripped his hands but didn’t speak.

Yang Wan turned her head and said, “What’s wrong? You come here but don’t speak.”

“I’m thinking… whether I should ask.”

Yang Wan was about to speak when she heard Deng Ying say, “Your Highness, please ask. This servant is listening.”

Yi Lang nodded and stood up, “Director, I want to know, what happens to those who lose in factional struggles?”

“Death and disgrace.”

Yi Lang raised his head, “Will Minister White and Uncle suffer this fate too?”

Deng Ying nodded, “Yes.”

Yi Lang lowered his eyes, “I am still young and don’t know how to bear the responsibility for all the empire’s subjects, but before I grow up, I cannot let subjects die for my sake. Director, if Father Emperor names my second brother as successor, please tell the Ministers and Uncle that I am willing to leave the capital. Guarding peace in one region is also guarding the realm; I will not disappoint them either.”

After hearing these words, Deng Ying prostrated himself, performing a full kowtow to Yi Lang.

Yi Lang looked down at him and said, “Director, why do you do this?”

Deng Ying straightened up, “Does Your Highness trust this minister?”

He had switched to using “minister” as his form of address, causing Yang Wan to start slightly.

She raised her head to look at Deng Ying. His hand was pressed against the ground, fingers slightly curved, and unlike before, he didn’t lower his head before Yi Lang, but rather gazed at him calmly.

Yang Wan knew that Deng Ying, who had been castrated in his twenties, had never in his life demanded recognition of his status. This unconscious use of “minister” was his greatest secret aspiration. And hearing this word, Yang Wan suddenly understood why, in history, he had eventually walked to the execution platform to be dismembered.

With a scholar’s heart making a vow, unwavering for life.

He certainly didn’t want to live as a servant. Perhaps it was the grinding of various political forces that pushed him onto the stage, but the one who stepped up was himself.

Thinking this, Yang Wan felt both sorrow and warmth in her heart.

She realized she hadn’t tried to hold him back, to keep him from ascending. Instead, she began to accept the historical inevitability of Deng Ying, though this didn’t mean she had to compromise with this era.

As a historian who had crossed through time, after experiencing division, struggle, and integration… Yang Wan was grateful that she had respected Deng Ying’s life while not abandoning Yang Wan’s life.

“I trust the Director.”

Yi Lang nodded in response to Deng Ying.

Yang Wan rested her chin in her hand and added with a smile, “I trust you too.”

Then she adjusted Yi Lang’s fur cloak, “After seeing the Director, does Your Highness feel better?”

“Yes.”

“Then this servant will return with you.”

“All right.”

Yang Wan took Yi Lang’s hand as they stood up, and said to Deng Ying, “Deng Ying, fight for them. Don’t think about the consequences. However long or short your life may be, I’ll take care of it all.”

On the fifth day of the eleventh month in the fourteenth year of Zhenning.

Inside and outside the capital, temples and monasteries struck their bells thirty thousand times. Civil and military officials in the capital, along with ladies of rank third grade and above, all entered through the West Prosperity Gate to mourn at the Sixian Gate.

Overnight, the empire was clothed in white mourning.

Outside the main hall of the Ceremonial Office, Cabinet ministers, the Six Ministries’ ministers, and the left and right censors of the Censorate all stood outside the main hall. Except for Yang Lun, everyone was shivering from the cold. The Minister of Rites, Jiang Peng, said, “With the Second Prince and Empress attending the first shrouding ceremony, the succession portion of the final edict should be clear, shouldn’t it?”

No one responded to his words.

Jiang Peng looked around, feeling somewhat embarrassed himself, and tucked his hands back into his sleeves, hunching his neck even more.

Yang Lun brushed the snow from his shoulders and looked up at the hall doors of the Ceremonial Office. A eunuch attendant came out from the doors, and bowed to the officials, “Ministers, please enter. The ancestral lords are already seated.”

Yang Lun lifted his robes and stepped into the hall, with the others hurriedly following.

The inner hall of the Ceremonial Office was as warm as spring. He Yixian used a silver hammer to break open a block of aged tribute tea, ground it with a cloth, and handed it to Hu Xiang, “Go brew this.”

Only then did he rise to greet the officials, “The final edict awaits on the incense table. Please, ministers, receive the edict.”

Emperor Zhenning’s final edict was only about a hundred characters long, and quite brief. The first half arranged his funeral matters, with phrases showing concern for the people’s hardships and calling for simple funeral rites. The second half declared the appointment of Second Prince Zhu Yi Jue as successor to the imperial throne.

After the Minister of Rites finished reading it aloud, none of the Cabinet ministers spoke.

He Yixian coughed and raised his voice, “Please, ministers, receive the edict.”

Bai Yuyang said, “This edict was written during His Majesty’s illness. If it was written to consult the Cabinet, we must deliberate on its wording. The proclamation should be delayed.”

He Yixian looked at Yang Lun and said, “Is this the Cabinet’s opinion, or the Prime Minister’s opinion?”

Yang Lun replied, “This isn’t anyone’s opinion, it’s the procedure for proclaiming edicts.”

He Yixian nodded, “If it’s a procedure, then the Ceremonial Office has no objection. However, how shall the palace ceremonies proceed? The late Emperor’s grand shrouding is imminent. Without the edict proclaimed, who will lead the sacrifices?”

Yang Lun said, “During the grand shrouding, the Cabinet will present the deliberated edict to the Empress again.”

He Yixian lightly tapped the tea hammer in his hand, “In that case, I shall report the Cabinet’s intention to the Empress.”

As he finished speaking, the tea was served.

Yet none of the officials had any mind to drink the Ceremonial Office’s tea.

Yang Lun walked out of the Ceremonial Office with Bai Yuyang, who said, “I understand your meaning in not immediately rejecting it, but this cannot last long.”

Yang Lun turned and said, “I understand, but delaying the edict’s proclamation prevents us from reaching a dead end.”

Bai Yuyang said, “What about the grand shrouding in seven days?”

Yang Lun said, “During these days, the Cabinet will draft a new edict, writing on behalf of the late Emperor, establishing the Crown Prince as successor.”

Bai Yuyang started, “What’s the purpose of this?”

Qi Huaiyang, behind Yang Lun, said, “You mean to force the Empress to acknowledge our Cabinet’s edict and discard the one presented by the Ceremonial Office? How could that be easy? Unless we can prove this edict wasn’t written by His Majesty himself.”

Yang Lun said, “We can’t prove it. In His Majesty’s final moments, only the Ceremonial Office people were by his side.”

Qi Huaiyang said, “Then what are our chances of success?”

Yang Lun said, “Do you have any other feasible methods?”

Both Bai and Qi remained silent.

Yang Lun exhaled, “Since there are none, we’ll proceed with this plan. But once we begin writing, the Cabinet must be of one mind, otherwise, we don’t have even a single chance of success.”

Qi Huaiyang sighed and turned to look toward the Hall of Mental Cultivation, saying softly, “His Majesty didn’t trust his ministers, didn’t trust his son, only trusted servants. These faults can’t be written in the edict—what’s left that can be written?”

Yang Lun listened to his words while looking toward the Hall of Mental Cultivation. The sacrificial smoke couldn’t condense in the snowy wind but was carried far away. Even from here, he could smell the scent of premium sandalwood.

The entire funeral arrangements, contrary to the edict’s call for simplicity, were extravagantly wasteful.

Yang Lun withdrew his gaze and strode forward, “I’m leaving first.”

Qi Huaiyang said, “Why leave so quickly?”

“It’s stifling.”

In the Ceremonial Office duty room opposite the Hall of Mental Cultivation, Li Head Scribe had finally managed to withdraw from the funeral altar.

He rubbed his neck as he walked into the room and saw a steaming bowl of meat in wine lees on the desk. He smiled, guessing his godson Li Yu had been by. So he made do with washing his face with cold water, and just as he was about to sit down to eat, Hu Xiang came in saying, “You’ve returned too early, the ancestral lord still wants you to attend the Second Prince.”

Li Head Scribe stood up and said, “Will the Second Prince still attend the mourning today?”

“Even if he doesn’t attend the mourning, you still need to be there to serve him.”

As he spoke, he closed the door, “The Cabinet refused to receive the edict today, so variables have appeared. The ancestral lord is a cautious person. At this time, we need to be crystal clear about the situation with the Empress and Second Prince.”

Li Head Scribe said, “I’ve always felt we shouldn’t have written that false edict…”

“Aiya!”

Hu Xiang interrupted him, “The ancestral lord has said repeatedly, keep these words in your belly. What false edict? That was the edict written by His Majesty himself, establishing Second Prince Zhu Yi Jue as Emperor. He’s the one we raised—how could he mistreat us in the future? You’ve been clear-headed all your life, don’t die over this now.”

Li Head Scribe hurriedly said, “Yes… yes, I understand…”

Just as he finished speaking, there was suddenly a “snap” from behind the clothes chest by the door, making Hu Xiang nearly jump.

“Who’s there!”

Li Yu stood up trembling from behind the clothes chest, looking at Li Head Scribe in shock.

“This is fatal!”

Hu Xiang shouted and moved forward to grab Li Yu’s arm. Li Head Scribe quickly grabbed the back of Hu Xiang’s collar, causing him to stumble as he shouted outward, “Is anyone outside? Is there anyone outside!”

Li Yu was somewhat paralyzed with fear, looking anxiously at Li Head Scribe, “Godfather, I…”

“Run…”

Li Head Scribe spat out one word.

“What…”

“What are you standing there for? Hurry and run!”