On the eleventh day of the eleventh month in the second year of Chongjiu, chaos erupted in Great Feng. Led by two of the Three Dukes, a group of ministers secretly plotted to force the palace and enthrone the Sixteenth Prince, but failed. They were captured red-handed by His Majesty, and among them, the Court Commandant who controlled the palace guards was killed on the spot.

But what shocked everyone was that the Emperor, who was usually considered tyrannical toward his ministers, surprisingly dealt leniently with this unforgivable act of great treason—lifting his hand high but setting it down gently. Apart from the Court Commandant and the Sixteenth Prince who were killed on the spot, and the Guard Commander who was later sentenced to death, the rest received relatively light punishments: the Imperial Censor and Grand Minister of Works were thrown into the nineteenth level of the great prison, while the Grand Minister of Works’ Deputy and others were stripped of office and exiled. Almost none of their family members were implicated.

This incredibly lenient punishment left the ministers, who had always complained about His Majesty’s harsh governance, completely speechless this time, thinking the Emperor had suddenly changed his nature.

However, the Emperor’s punishment for certain people was unexpectedly severe. The military officers and their subordinate soldiers and guards who participated in the palace coup, though they were merely followers, were all executed without exception, including the military forces under the Court Commandant and Guard Commander who defended the imperial city and palace.

When the edict was issued, everyone in Great Feng, from the Three Dukes down to vagrants, was stunned.

While death for treason was not surprising, no one had ever seen the main culprits spared while all the followers were killed.

The ministers pleaded bitterly, even arguing that these soldiers were elite military forces defending the palace and Ru Prefecture, that training elites was not easy, and that killing them all clean would leave Ru Prefecture vulnerable and the palace defenseless—weren’t they afraid that Great Qian assassins would take advantage of this weakness?

When the discussion reached this point, the Emperor paid no heed, and the ministers could only withdraw in tears.

The ministers of Great Feng had it tough, facing “The Unhappy One” daily and performing “The Absent-minded One.”

The Emperor, who never played by conventional rules, was also extremely cold toward others involved in the incident. These “others” actually referred to the Dowager Consort. To preserve the imperial family’s dignity, the official edict made no mention of the Dowager Consort’s actions, only stating that she was killed by rebel forces. But even a fool could see that the incident occurred outside the palace—how could the Dowager Consort have appeared there for no reason? His Majesty had clearly controlled the situation very early on, so why would the Dowager Consort still be “killed by rebel forces”?

More importantly, the Emperor gave the Dowager Consort no honorific title, did not posthumously honor her as Empress Dowager, did not allow her to be buried with the Late Emperor, and directly interred her in the consort mausoleum with her position as Dowager Consort Minsu.

The meaning behind this was crystal clear.

But immediately after, rumors of unknown origin spread throughout Ru Prefecture and beyond—the Dowager Consort was killed by assassins sent by the Emperor of Great Qian, who had come to avenge his father!

The people readily accepted this outcome: you killed my father emperor, I killed your mother consort. Tit for tat, completely justified.

When news spread from Great Feng to Great Qian, the people of Great Qian also rejoiced, feeling that this revenge had finally been exacted. Long live His Majesty.

At the New Year’s feast in the second year of Zhiming, all ministers congratulated His Majesty together.

Tie Ci’s expression rarely showed some pleasure. After the banquet ended, she returned to Chongming Palace. Upon stepping into the warm pavilion, she discovered the table piled high with gift boxes, with Jian Xi counting and organizing the mountain of presents.

Seeing Tie Ci approach, she smiled and rose to bow, saying to Tie Ci, “Your Majesty, New Year tribute gifts from various regions have all arrived. Following your instructions, I’ve placed most in storage, but there are still several that require your personal attention.”

Tie Ci sniffed and said, “One of them doesn’t need looking at—it reeks of bird.”

A squawk came from behind the curtain. Jian Xi suppressed her laughter and stepped aside as a bird wing swept the curtain open, and Mo Ye strutted in proudly with a cloth bundle hanging around its neck.

Seeing the protruding shape in the cloth bundle, Tie Ci knew that the King of Western Rong was indeed still lacking in creativity.

Western Rong produced excellent jade—ink jade, colored jade, mutton-fat jade, and gold-silk jade all of supreme quality. Every year, Dan Ye selected the largest and finest jade stone to carve a small statue of her. Tie Ci now had a mutton-fat jade statue and an ink jade statue. She wondered what kind of jade statue this year’s would be, and whether collecting seven different jade statues would summon a divine dragon.

When Mo Ye reluctantly removed the cloth bundle, Tie Ci opened it and was nearly blinded.

It was finest gold-silk jade, the rarest kind with evenly distributed deep red color and golden thread-like patterns throughout, radiating an aura of wealth and magnificence.

Inside was also a letter from Dan Ye. The content was much the same every year—nothing but missing her, missing her, missing her terribly, along with “I want to come to Great Qian” or “When will you come visit Western Rong?”

Mo Ye stared intently at Tie Ci, waiting to see her reaction. Tie Ci had no choice but to rack her brains for lavish praise, then ordered Jian Xi to pack the prepared return gift into Mo Ye’s bundle.

Mo Ye’s brother was impatient—he not only liked people to open and praise his gifts in person but also eagerly awaited return gifts.

What Tie Ci had Jian Xi prepare was a set of the Four Treasures of the Study—rather lowbrow taste, suggesting more reading was needed.

After all, having been king for so long and still writing so poorly was quite worrying.

After treating Mo Ye to a grand meal and watching it fly away, Tie Ci opened the second gift. In a plain white jade box was a book—a unique copy of “Notes from Nanhua Hall” that had been lost for a hundred years. Written personally by a famous scholar of the previous dynasty, the master of Nanhua Hall, the content was completely inconsistent with his reputation as a great Confucian scholar. It was filled with supernatural tales and romantic stories, yet written with extreme wit and novelty, the prose clear and beautiful.

This gift was naturally from Rong Pu. He had also included a letter saying this book had become legendary with no one knowing its whereabouts. He repeatedly speculated that the great scholar had hidden it away, or his descendants had deliberately concealed it, because given the scholar’s distinguished reputation, writing such romantic tales would damage his scholarly name. His descendants, thinking of his eternal reputation, deliberately kept it hidden—a case of covering up for the venerable.

So he had made several trips to Central Province, searched extensively, and visited the descendants of Nanhua Hall multiple times before finally obtaining the book. After reading it, he felt Your Majesty would surely enjoy it, so he personally copied it out to send. If it could provide a moment’s pleasure during Your Majesty’s busy imperial duties, he would be most fortunate.

Flipping through the book, Tie Ci thought he always made it sound simple, but seeking out people long without news, then asking for a family heirloom that they were very reluctant to reveal—the difficulties involved, the time and effort expended, could well be imagined.

All just so she could have some leisurely reading pleasure.

Just like when it was her birthday, he had also gone to great lengths to gather scholars’ congratulatory writings.

Thoughtful, meticulous, never missing the big picture, never overlooking small details, as comforting as a personal cloud.

Tie Ci closed the book and sighed softly, asking Jian Xi to wrap the book in a cover and place it with the box at her bedside to read one chapter each night before sleep.

Next was Yang Yixiu’s gift—a specially crafted large wooden chest, carefully carried in. Opening it revealed a model of Mirror-Breaking City, made with extreme precision. Even the brick patterns on the city walls were visible. Tie Ci was very interested in this gift, spending half the day just examining the walls, calculating their height against the scale—quite amazing.

From this perspective, Mirror-Breaking City’s wall height was actually not much different from the capital’s.

Not to mention the various wall installations—the main wall, parapet, battlements, watchtowers, corner towers, gates, barbican, and moat were naturally all present. Additionally, there were special charcoal storage rooms, and grain and salt storage rooms—very well-equipped.

Within the city, main roads ran in orderly parallel lines, dividing the entire city into fourteen wards, east and west corresponding to each other with clear regional divisions. A river ran right through the central axis.

The Great Qian residential area was nearly completed, with houses arranged in neat rows, and many cold-resistant trees planted—it looked very livable.

Two large central areas were the East Market and West Market. Yang Yixiu had explained their purposes in his letter. Tie Ci had originally thought the trading markets would be separated like the residents, living in different areas by clear divisions, but unexpectedly, commerce was not segregated.

Thinking carefully, this arrangement was actually excellent.

Tie Ci pointed to what should be the Great Feng area, where several blank spaces were covered with awnings, and asked, “What’s this about?”

Jian Xi said, “Manager Yang says the Great Feng side is acting sneaky—if they’re going to build houses, just build houses, but they insist on covering them up so no one can see. Obviously they’re up to no good. He suspects these are armories or other important facilities. He’s already sent over a dozen teams to investigate. Although none have succeeded yet, he asks Your Majesty to rest assured—he’ll eventually add this to the model.”

Tie Ci thought for a moment and said, “No need to send more people. It won’t be an armory.”

Jian Xi smiled and said, “Yes, I’ll immediately write to Manager Yang asking him not to waste more manpower.”

She rarely questioned Tie Ci’s words, but this wasn’t the blind loyalty of a minister—she truly could quickly understand Tie Ci’s thinking. Their minds were very compatible. She handled documents extremely efficiently and had even developed her own shorthand method. Seeing her method was not much different from what her master had described, Tie Ci couldn’t help but admire her intelligence.

For Jian Xi, over these few years, her feelings toward Tie Ci had evolved from initial worship to deep devotion. After the Chongming incident, because the twins were spies, more than one person in court had suggested expelling all the students selected into the palace, especially those few who had entered the palace—after all, they had to guard against such precedents.

At the time, she, Qi You, and Fang Huai’an had prepared to be swept out, but unexpectedly, His Majesty not only didn’t expel them but gave rewards based on their performance. Fang Huai’an was promoted one level because of his mutton soup, Qi You went to the most important Personnel Ministry as a Director—though also only promoted one level, he was the first to observe governance in the Six Ministries. Following the normal trajectory, his next step would be governing the Six Ministries and eventually entering the cabinet—faster than everyone else.

As for herself, her female official rank was raised two levels. More importantly, His Majesty never showed any wariness or concealment toward her. She had the right to enter the bedchamber directly and could accompany His Majesty morning and evening, handling all affairs.

Such trust, for His Majesty who had experienced the Chongming incident, was simply incredible.

This even caused some dissent in court, fearing the Emperor would repeat Murong Yi’s mistakes.

Though grateful, Jian Xi was actually somewhat puzzled—why did His Majesty show no concern and treat her with such favor?

And Qi You—during the Chongming incident, he could be said to have reacted promptly, but didn’t seem to have any particular merit, certainly less than Fang Huai’an who had saved soldiers. Yet why did he also receive the top reward?

Regarding this puzzle about Qi You, over the following years, she gradually understood.

Qi You’s merit lay not in what he did, but in what he didn’t do.

His Majesty was truly a person of deep sentiment and loyalty.

As for herself, Jian Xi still didn’t understand, but since she couldn’t figure it out, she wouldn’t think about it. She only needed to be loyal to His Majesty.

In these years by His Majesty’s side, she had encountered assassination attempts once or twice. Each time she tried to shield His Majesty with her own body, though with the master guards around His Majesty, it never came to her turn.

Only each time, she would see His Majesty looking at her with a strange expression, adding yet another question to her list of puzzles.

Tie Ci noticed she was daydreaming again, smiled and shook her head, looking toward the next box.

This box was medium-sized, made of extremely fine materials with carved decorations that were sparse and elegant rather than complex. The overall character conveyed a low-key, restrained luxury, as if the sender was saying: I know you don’t like my extravagance, but I don’t want to send you something too crude either.

Opening the box revealed a short sword with an extremely unusual blade—pale white, gleaming with subtle phosphorescence. Jian Xi said, “Marshal Xiao says this is a shark-tooth sword. He personally took it from a shark’s mouth and forged this sword to present to Your Majesty for appreciation.”

Tie Ci laughed, “He always loves sending these weapons and blades.”

Thinking again, she added, “His swimming has improved this time? He can even dive into the sea to catch sharks personally.”

Xiao Xueya had included no letter. Tie Ci shrugged, “He and I never have anything to say to each other.”

Jian Xi glanced at her, thinking that if they truly had nothing to say to each other, why would he rush to send gifts every year before New Year’s, and the gifts were always personally obtained? Last year was something… it seemed he had searched the great mountains of Yannan to find a rare iron and personally forged a pair of bracers for His Majesty.

Marshal Xiao always seemed to feel His Majesty was in constant danger—the gifts he sent were either for killing or for protection.

That unspoken intention was buried in this murderous aura and silent confrontation.

Next was Qi Yuansi’s gift, but no longer various curious artifacts dug up from the desert—instead, it was a wedding invitation.

Qi Yuansi was engaged to that girl he’d met in Hanli Khan Desert.

Not long ago, Tie Ci had issued an edict conferring the title of County Princess on that girl, not only because she had promised Old Madam Qi, but also because she heard the girl was a local native, originally a member of a large Western Rong tribe. Because of loyalty to the old king, she had been driven out by the usurping new king Wu Lianghe. She had led her people across the desert for over ten days to find an oasis, and in the following years, led her people to plant trees one by one, find water, and expand the oasis, forming their own territory.

Once, when Qi Yuansi was blown several li off course by a sandstorm and lost his way, he was rescued at her oasis.

Later, when Qi Yuansi wanted to transform Hanli Khan Desert by bringing water from snow mountains through her oasis, which might destroy the oasis, the two sides nearly came to conflict.

Eventually, the magnanimous girl gave up the oasis, with the condition that Qi Yuansi would sleep with her.

When Tie Ci heard about this, she rarely laughed for a long time.

She kept asking, “What happened next? What happened next? Did they sleep together or not?”