Those words were enough to make the emperor’s face turn pale. She was still her old self — every word forceful, every sentence sharp. Back in the late emperor’s time, she had dared to contradict him to his face. An emperor’s might was formidable beyond measure — the late emperor had moreover charged on horseback alongside the Founding Emperor to win the dynasty, with all the imposing authority of a battle-hardened sovereign. Every prince in the court had stood trembling in their boots, yet she stood her ground without retreating. The late emperor had swept his gaze across the assembly and suddenly burst out laughing — and it was then that he had said those words: “If Weihua had been born a man, what place would any of you have?”

And moreover, those words of hers carried within them the echoes of an old grievance — the late emperor had already dictated my marriage; do you intend to dictate my son’s as well?

So the emperor could only let the wind pass and smiled: “There’s no need for Elder Sister to be anxious. If Yingzhen and Cui Jingyu become brothers-in-law, that would be excellent — the court has been fretting for lack of capable men. With him overseeing the Northern Garrison Army, I can rest easy.”

What magnanimity in those words — no wonder he had, at thirty-nine, already hinted to his subjects that he wished for the temple name of “Benevolent.” Just hearing this, who would have imagined that all the capable men at court had been eliminated on his own orders?

In Ye Qinglan’s own words: “They say the great fortunes of the Zhou dynasty flow ever onward — first the Duke of Ying, then the Duke of Yongguo, then Marshal Wei. I wonder who comes after the marshal?”

The Ying Duke’s estate had been slaughtered to a single solitary heir. The Duke of Yongguo had died without posterity. Wei Hanhai was now tucking his tail and treading carefully.

But after Wei Hanhai, there would naturally come Cui Jingyu and Huo Yingzhen — whether he acknowledged it or not, acknowledge it he must.

In the Grand Princess’s heart rose a surging sense of betrayal. The days when the three of them had stood trembling together in the courtyard felt as though they were just yesterday — yet twenty years had passed, and the one on the throne was merely a different person: less martial than their father, but more meanly withholding in his graciousness.

He was, in the end, their father’s son.

The Grand Princess was not deceived by his concession, and she stood.

“Your Majesty need not coax me — I know what Your Majesty is. The Chen family’s daughter-in-law nearly cost A’Yan his life, and Your Majesty let her go with barely a reprimand. As for the Spring Hunt, I have no time for it. The Minghua Palace, which Father granted me — I shall go to take up my enfeoffment there at once, and I will bring Yingzhen and the Ye Family girl with me. There is no need for Your Majesty to trouble yourself.”

Every word of this speech was loaded, truly a tempest of wind and rain. She even made to rise and take her leave. The Minghua Palace was in Luoyang — in truth, it had originally been the emperor’s threat: “I’ve already given you the Hot Springs Palace as my apology — and still you won’t let this go. Then go to Luoyang. There is no need to return.”

So when the late emperor passed away, she had not entered the chamber either. The emperor had been present at the time — kneeling at the bedside, he had heard the late emperor call out three times: “Weihua!” She only knelt outside in the hall and did not enter, even as the late emperor breathed his last. Even an emperor, in that moment, could not win back a daughter whose heart had been broken beyond repair. It was in that instant that the emperor truly understood the meaning of being utterly alone.

So he was terrified of her, knowing what she was capable of. And the Seventh Prince, moreover, had very likely sided with her — and the Seventh Prince was gone now. Zhao Yanze, too, would very likely follow her. Once she left, it would likely be for a lifetime. Twenty years had already been endured — and he might not even have another twenty years.

So the emperor hastily rose to his feet as well, and in his agitation, he actually reached out and caught her by the sleeve: “Elder Sister, wait.”

Attendant Wang Changzhong, standing to the side watching, was privately startled. History books did record instances of emperors acting in haste — but those were always over gifted talents. When had an emperor ever lost composure like this over a family quarrel?

The Grand Princess’s household was on the verge of returning to the pinnacle of power.

But the emperor hadn’t registered his own loss of composure, and continued to explain: “The Chen family matter was truly not weakness on Our part — to handle it, one must wait until after the salt investigation is concluded, lest we alarm the quarry. The mutual defense pact among the three garrisons was Father’s strategic design — Elder Sister truly ought not to misunderstand Us. Yingzhen is our own family’s nephew. How could We suspect him? If such intent exists in Our heart, may Heaven and Earth refuse Us their shelter.”

Wang Changzhong, standing to the side listening, shook inwardly.

They all said the Grand Princess had been continuously favored since the late emperor’s time — yet he had never witnessed what method she used, only thought her temperament too unyieldingly fierce, unable to compare with the more supple approaches of the palace. He never imagined that today she would actually compel the emperor himself to make a sworn vow.

Only when she had driven things to this point did the Grand Princess relent. A look of grief appeared on her face: “It is not that I wish to misunderstand you. But once bitten by a snake, one starts at a coiled rope for ten years. The days of twenty years ago — neither I nor A’Yan can endure them again.”

Those words made even the emperor’s eyes burn with heat. What manner of days had twenty years ago held — only the two of them remembered, now that the Seventh Prince was gone and only they two remained as the sole survivors.

As for the other princes, he had either killed or imprisoned them, dealt with them cleanly. But by the logic of the imperial household, they were not family — not even kin. They were enemies, fierce as tigers, base as swine — anything but brothers.

Even the woman dwelling in the central palace was not his wife in any true sense — otherwise why would the Gao Family have given another daughter in marriage to the Pingjun Wangfu? The ideal empress’s maternal clan should be loyal subjects, isolated subjects, incorruptible subjects — anything but powerful ones.

The only one he could rely upon was the person standing before him. It had been her twenty years ago; it was still her twenty years later. Even this temperament had not changed at all — still his Elder Sister.

So the emperor said: “Elder Sister can rest easy — I am not like Father…”

How treasonous those words were — even a child of three knew that an emperor must govern through filial piety. He did not finish the sentence, but the Grand Princess understood his meaning.

All of it had been their father’s doing. Their father had destroyed him, destroyed her, and had also taken the Seventh Prince’s life. But they had no one they could complain to — for history showed that nothing was more difficult than being a crown prince to a great and illustrious emperor. To escape with one’s life was already a stroke of luck. That brilliant and martial father of theirs had been like a towering tree blocking out the sky; they had grown up in his shadow, weak from the start. And moreover, great vines had clung to that tree — ready at any moment to strangle them.

Honestly speaking, she felt not the slightest regret over the Duke of Ying. Back in those days, those princes and princesses had all walked on such thin ice — a single remark from the Grand Tutor, “The Crown Prince is benevolent but lacks decisiveness,” had weighed on him for months. After he ascended the throne, he eventually found a pretext and had the Grand Tutor’s grave dug up.

How could one not resent it? The Duke of Ying had also been one of those clinging vines — and the emperor’s own blood-daughter had been married into his estate. He ought long ago to have understood this, to have concealed his light and bided his time, to have studied the self-preserving strategies of famous generals in history. That would have been the proper course.

But at the height of a raging fire, amid the most vibrant of flowerings, who thinks of retreat?

The Ying Duke’s estate met its end not undeservedly — except that the killing of Huo Yi was a wrongful death. The last subject the late emperor took with him in his final years was Left Chancellor Chen An — and more than half the reason for that was on her account.

But emperors do not apologize. He had elevated her to Grand Princess, gifted her the Hot Springs Palace — and she didn’t go to take possession. He gifted her the Mingzhang Palace — still she didn’t go. Father and daughter, estranged to the very last moment. With the late emperor’s passing, she had no choice but to let it be.

The stories of the imperial household were all like this — one had no choice but to let them be. In the Seventh Prince’s final years, he had wasted away to almost nothing — a bag of bones. What could be done about it? He too could only let it be. Emperors accumulated many regrets, never finding completion.

Only the two of them remained now — good or ill, love and hatred, everything was contained here. They were each other’s only companion. Whether she was deceiving him or telling the truth, whether his vows were sincere or made to deceive her — they had only each other.

After the Grand Princess left the palace and returned to the household, she sent a female official to summon Lingbo.

She was of course still her stubborn self — though on the surface obedient enough, bowing properly in greeting, addressing her as “Your Highness.” She had even brought a gift: an embroidered phoenix tapestry, which she presented to the Grand Princess. And her words were well-chosen and clever: “Lingbo was impertinent toward Your Highness yesterday and has felt unsettled since. Elder Sister has already given me a proper scolding — I ask Your Highness to grant your forgiveness.”

Even now she didn’t forget to put in a good word for her elder sister — it was enough to make one laugh despite oneself.

But perhaps the Huo temperament and her own character were exactly suited to be balanced by such a sharp-witted little creature as this.

They say that women who become mothers-in-law must find fault with their daughters-in-law — and yet the Grand Princess found herself viewing Lingbo more and more favorably. Of course she still had to ask, and did so with a smile: “I hear Lingbo wishes to tie a red thread?”

Lingbo immediately became alert, pressing herself to the floor in silence. She was actually a slender, slight girl — this thin body, and yet she meant to take the whole household’s burdens on one shoulder. She still wished to tie a red thread — it was a complete fantasy.

But at her age, who was not boundless, feeling capable of turning Heaven and Earth inside out?

Official Qin was by nature cold and remote, rarely finding genuine rapport with anyone — yet she unexpectedly held this girl in an unusual regard. Perhaps she admired the sincerity of her heart. Seeing Lingbo frozen stiff on the floor, she couldn’t help but gently remind her: “Miss, in matters of this world — especially matters of fate and marriage — what belongs to someone will always find its way to them. What is not meant to be cannot be forced. Destiny is set long in advance. One must not strive against it.”

Such earnest persuasion only drew from Lingbo a single sentence in reply.

She said: “I will strive against it all the same.”

The Grand Princess could only laugh and say: “Rise then.”