Summer court sessions were hardly pleasant, and today the capital was especially stuffy and humid.

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but the officials standing outside the imperial city were already drenched in sweat. One of them abandoned propriety, fanning himself with his sleeve while cursing, “This damned hellish weather.”

A nearby official laughed and said, “For Her Majesty the Empress, this is excellent weather.”

The surrounding officials all chuckled. Ever since the matter of military rewards had been brought up, the Empress had stopped lowering the pearl screen during court. When a censor questioned this, the Empress simply said it was too hot.

“What exactly is the Empress trying to accomplish?” one official whispered. “Is she deliberately provoking the Imperial Tutor?”

Another official chuckled twice: “You think women only know how to throw tantrums? Her meaning is quite clear—”

He mouthed two words silently.

“Seize power.”

The surrounding officials fell silent for a moment.

Someone snorted: “Even the Emperor hasn’t seized power yet! What power could she possibly seize?”

But immediately another official muttered: “Precisely because the Emperor hasn’t seized power, the Empress wants to seize it herself.”

This comment caused the nearby officials to fall silent once more.

If the Emperor weren’t still a child, Empress Chu would never have been allowed to accompany him to court. She had first used the Emperor’s young age to gain the opportunity to attend court sessions, and it wasn’t surprising that she would then seize the chance to grasp power.

Otherwise, once the Emperor personally took charge, the Empress would be merely an empress.

“What right does she have—” someone grumbled, swallowing the rest of his words midway. This Empress indeed had her backing and couldn’t be regarded as a mere woman, but— “Even with military power, she can’t do whatever she pleases and violate ancestral rules!”

If the Empress wanted power, she should exercise it in the inner palace. The harem was not supposed to interfere with government affairs or meddle in court politics.

“Who knows who’s encouraging her?” someone suddenly remarked.

“Who else could it be?” another replied. “Minister Xie, of course.”

This time, the surrounding officials didn’t remain silent but collectively let out a muffled snort: “Imperial relatives, all of them.”

Just as their snorts subsided, there was some movement near the palace gate. The officials parted to make way as Xie Yanfang slowly approached through the misty dawn light. Surprisingly, he was holding a fan, casually fanning himself as he walked while smiling and greeting others.

“The weather is truly hot today.”

The officials responded with polite smiles; those who didn’t wish to respond simply lowered their heads and made way.

Xie Yanfang walked at the front, and just as he reached the palace gate, it opened perfectly on cue. He entered the imperial city unimpeded, taking the lead.

Only then did the other officials advance in order, and those standing at the back resumed their conversations.

“Will the Empress speak again today?”

“Will everyone continue to ignore her?”

“How will Xie Yanfang respond?”

“I never expected Minister Xie to remain silent as well.”

“If he had spoken, the Imperial Tutor would certainly have pounced on him relentlessly. It’s a strategy.”

“Let’s see which side can outlast the other.”

“Isn’t there a third party?”

The last question came abruptly. Two officials were startled and turned to see who had joined them from behind—

But this wasn’t unusual; those at the end of the queue were lower-ranking officials. Many of them belonged neither to the Imperial Tutor’s faction nor were associated with the Xie clan, preferring to remain independent and inconspicuous in their quiet official posts.

“Minister Zhu, what third party are you referring to?” they asked.

The official addressed as Minister Zhu hesitated for a moment before saying: “The Empress doesn’t belong to the imperial relatives. Both she and the Emperor are sovereigns.”

The two who had spoken earlier were taken aback, finding the notion somewhat amusing: “The Empress depends on the Emperor. How could they possibly be equal—”

Before they could finish, the censors’ command rang out, and the court music began playing, signaling the Emperor’s arrival. Even though they were at the back of the queue, they could no longer chat casually. The men quickly ceased talking, composed their expressions, and stood at attention, watching as the Emperor and Empress approached slowly before bowing deeply.

“Long live Your Majesty, long live Your Majesty, long live Your Majesty for ten thousand years.”

……

……

Court proceedings progressed slowly, mostly covering familiar topics. The hall was stifling, and some officials in the queue lost focus and drifted off, while others grew drowsy. Some, hoping to avoid distraction and dozing, lifted their heads occasionally to glance at the Empress—

The Empress sat behind the Emperor.

She seemed to be sitting closer than before.

Some officials, bored during court, pondered these details and even felt a bit excited—perhaps the Empress should simply sit directly on the dragon throne alongside the Emperor.

After all, the throne was large enough for two people, especially when one was just a child.

If that happened, wouldn’t the court erupt in chaos?

As one official’s mind wandered, he suddenly heard a female voice ask: “Minister Zhou, how many top-grade candidates does the Ministry of Personnel have for selection this time?”

In the court, filled with voices both high and low, clear and aged—all male—this female voice was especially melodious.

The male voices that had been speaking all stopped, as if entranced by the female voice.

The sudden silence was suffocating.

No one answered the Empress, not even a simple “This subject does not know,” nor did anyone question her about interfering with court affairs.

The Empress was met with nothing but silence.

The official from the Ministry of Personnel who had been addressed simply lowered his head.

Other officials either cast their eyes downward or maintained wooden expressions.

The Empress didn’t speak again, just looking at the court officials.

It seemed like an eternity had passed, though it might have been just a moment, when Deng Yi spoke: “What are the arrangements for flood prevention this year?”

Deng Yi’s words were like a drop of water falling into hot oil. The quiet court suddenly became lively again, with officials eagerly responding, not only with words but also with various documents being brought forward.

Sitting high above and ignored, the Empress’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. She listened calmly and attentively to the officials’ discussions, and at certain moments would pose questions, once again plunging the court into silence until Deng Yi would introduce another topic that sparked animated discussion—

This pattern repeated until Deng Yi announced, “Are there any more reports today? If not, the court is dismissed!”

The officials standing in the back rows kowtowed to respectfully send off the Emperor, feeling somewhat sorry for the young woman, but pity had no place in court matters.

As the Emperor and Empress rose, Deng Yi suddenly called out to the Emperor: “Your Majesty, do you have anything to say?”

The officials all looked up at the Emperor. He had surely witnessed the tug-of-war between the court and the Empress these past days. Though he was a child, he wasn’t merely a child. What did he think of all this?

Xiao Yu seemed somewhat startled by the question, then shook his head and said: “I am still learning. I have nothing to say about court matters.”

Indeed, the Emperor appeared to have no opinion. He showed neither joy when the Empress spoke nor anger or fear when the court officials responded to her with silence.

He sat quietly on the dragon throne, listening to the proceedings—only listening, forming no thoughts of his own.

This response made Deng Yi smile slightly and nod: “Your Majesty is wise.” Then he added, “Your Majesty should continue studying diligently.”

Xiao Yu nodded and, without further delay, took Chu Zhao’s hand and left.

The officials dispersed like a receding tide.

“I didn’t expect Empress Chu would refrain from forcing His Majesty to join her cause.”

“She’s not a fool. If she dared coerce the Emperor to side with her, the Imperial Tutor could use the imperial seal to confine her to the harem, never to emerge again!”

“The Emperor isn’t a fool either. What does this matter to him? Just because no one responds when the Empress speaks doesn’t mean they would ignore him. He just needs to wait four years until he takes personal control of the government.”

The officials discussed and joked as they went about their business. The Empress’s confrontation with the court ministers didn’t affect state affairs or impact them personally.

It didn’t affect Xiao Yu either. After court, he went to his lessons as usual.

In truth, it didn’t affect Chu Zhao either. After court, she continued to sit in the study reading memorials. Although the court officials wouldn’t speak to her and responded with silence, the memorials continued to be delivered.

Whether the Emperor read them or the Empress did, they pretended not to know.

After all, neither the Emperor nor the Empress had the final say on the memorials or their responses.

When Xie Yanfang entered, he saw Chu Zhao reading while eating pastries.

“Be careful not to dip that in the osmanthus jam by mistake,” he said, reaching out to move the inkstone on the desk further away.

Chu Zhao smiled: “I won’t.” Then she gestured to the seat opposite her. “Please sit down, Minister Xie.”

Xie Yanfang expressed his gratitude but remained standing.

“Your Majesty,” he asked with a smile, “is it difficult being the Empress?”