Yang Lun released Deng Ying and walked back to the shadowed window.

The memorial he had thrown lay beneath the side table, now an eyesore.

This was the first time he had erupted with such anger in the Grand Secretariat duty room. His fury was directed at many:

The stubborn Censor.

The Emperor cared only for power balance, not political integrity.

And the omnipresent Northern Disciplinary Court.

Yet in the end, only Deng Ying bore the brunt of his anger.

He had truly treated Deng Ying as someone without any backing and beneath his station. Unconsciously, he was certain that even if this misplaced anger burned him, Deng Ying would humbly endure it without causing any adverse effects on the current situation.

Years of association, all connections severed by that one knife, yet his trust in Deng Ying remained – though it had transformed into the confidence with which he freely humiliated him. Yang Lun was secretly alarmed by this, his insides churning, yet he could not express even a fraction of this to the man in palace robes before him.

He held his forehead, wiping away the hot sweat forced out in the first month, and said quietly:

“I’ll go find Huang Ran.”

After speaking, he snatched up the fallen memorial. Though he had intended to say nothing more, at the door he couldn’t help turning back, “Why won’t you simply sever ties with us and properly serve as a palace official?”

Deng Ying lowered his head, pressing the swollen spot on his face, “You may sever ties, but I don’t want to.”

Yang Lun shook his head with a bitter laugh, “People live by their integrity. You’re already in this state – no one will accept you. The more you do, the more the court suspects you. Like today, to delay the Northern Disciplinary Court, you used the Eastern Depot to extort money from the Huang family. The officials in the capital will only condemn you – no one knows you’re trying to save him!”

Deng Ying dropped his hand, “Do you think I still harbor delusions of a pure official’s reputation?”

“Then what are you seeking?”

Yang Lun used the memorial in his hand to point at Bai Huan’s calligraphy hanging behind him, “Look for yourself – this is the Grand Secretariat duty room, where the literary minds of the realm transform their ideals into national righteousness…”

“Yes.”

Deng Ying interrupted him, continuing quietly: “I disgrace this place by my presumptuous presence, deserving only contempt.”

Yang Lun’s throat quivered, suddenly feeling as if pierced by needles.

“I understand it all.”

Deng Ying stepped closer to him. “I even know what conflicts you internally, but I don’t know how to make you see me more clearly.”

“See clearly? What’s unclear?”

Deng Ying looked up, “In your eyes, the two who died from hunger strike while awaiting punishment with me at Nanhaizi last year brought honor to our brotherhood, while I, who survived pitifully, brought shame. Since I lived so pathetically, I should completely let go and properly serve as a servant – only then would you not feel such conflict upon seeing me.”

Yang Lun remained silent. Hearing his inner struggle voiced by Deng Ying brought a chill like spring water over stone.

“I haven’t managed that.”

Deng Ying’s voice was calm and gentle, “With my current status, maintaining a private friendship with you indeed brings you shame. You may rebuke me, but please don’t cut off my path forward. I know my eventual fate, but before that day comes, I wish to live bearing my guilt.”

Yang Lun exhaled a heated breath, looking down at Deng Ying with a slightly strained voice. “Can you survive like this?”

Deng Ying glanced up at Yang Lun, then lifted his robe and knelt, performing a deep bow to Yang Lun.

Yang Lun lowered his head, his hands suddenly clenching behind his back. Though he could almost guess why Deng Ying would do this, he still pressed the question: “What do you want to say?”

Deng Ying straightened up, “Zi Xi, more than shaming you, what I cannot forgive myself for is… my feelings for Yang Wan…”

He lowered his eyes, gazing at nothing in particular, “After our teacher’s death, I was completely shattered. I desperately wanted her sympathy – even just a little would have saved me then. Later, I developed other desires for her. I loathed myself for tarnishing her reputation, but she never rebuked me as you do.”

He looked up at Yang Lun, “Zi Xi, whether I can survive depends on how long you all can tolerate me, and how long Yang Wan is willing to forgive me.”

Yang Lun turned away, “Have you forgotten the oath you made to me in the Ministry of Justice?”

“No.”

Yang Lun slammed his fist on the wooden desk, sending up a cloud of fine dust. He turned and grabbed Deng Ying.

“Who the fuck told you to…”

He burst out with crude words, emotions high, yet still couldn’t say what he wanted to say. His voice caught, and when he spoke again, his fury had weakened, “Who the fuck told you to use my courtesy name?”

With that, he tucked Huang Ran’s memorial into his robes and left the duty room without looking back.

Dust particles glittered like gold in the light.

The empty Grand Secretariat duty room, bearing the greatest life aspirations and patriotic sentiments of the realm’s scholars, indeed held a certain awe for Deng Ying. Standing in the empty window light, his back chilled, he dared not linger.

He lowered his head to straighten his disheveled clothes, walked out of Donghua Gate, and headed toward the Inner Eastern Depot along the Imperial Provisions Office. Halfway there, he met Eastern Depot guard Qin Wende.

“Superintendent.”

Qin Wende clasped his hands in greeting.

Deng Ying glanced at the time, “Just returned?”

Qin Wende bowed, “Yes, Huang Ran is entering the palace for the banquet today. The Northern Disciplinary Court’s officers didn’t dare stop him. I left two men to watch his residence and returned first to report to the Superintendent.”

Deng Ying asked, “Did you investigate those drunken words?”

“Yes, they were confirmed. Most words were insignificant, but the crucial part was that drunken poem, written by Huang Ran himself. One line reads ‘I pray spring’s clarity descends today, Soon turning the world to three feet of ice.’ The Northern Disciplinary Court has it now. Depending on their interpretation, it could be seen as a rebellious poem.”

Deng Ying nodded, “Did you get your money?”

Qin Wende laughed, “Ha, our threats were empty – couldn’t scare him. Only his concubines were frightened enough to give us some jewelry. The rest is with his principal wife, probably mostly taken by the Disciplinary Court’s people by now.”

“You didn’t harm anyone?”

“We wouldn’t dare!”

Qin Wende hastily replied, “Superintendent, you taught us to make a quiet profit and let the Disciplinary Court take the blame for any trouble. We all feel that though the money is less, it’s better for our karma than killing. How could we act rashly? We’ll continue to serve you well in the future.”

“Good.”

Deng Ying nodded with a smile, “It’s New Year’s Eve, go home early.”

Qin Wende bowed and took his leave.

Deng Ying looked up at the sun nearing noon.

The sky was cloudless, sunlight falling directly on his skin, yet without a trace of warmth.

Controlling the Eastern Depot was different from managing palace construction workers. Though his heart hadn’t changed, his actions appeared as two extremes in others’ eyes.

Deng Ying pulled his cape tighter and walked toward the Inner Eastern Depot office, silently reciting Huang Ran’s poem line the whole way.

“I pray spring’s clarity descends today, Soon turning the world to three feet of ice.”

At first glance, there seemed no issue, but considering Huang Ran’s position and the recent court debates about establishing an heir, the line carried terrifying implications of killing the Emperor to establish a new one.

Deng Ying pressed his tiger’s mouth point and looked back toward Donghua Gate.

Today the imperial city opened its three gates, with capital officials gathering at the Hall of Supreme Harmony for the banquet. The open gates gaped like three hopeless mouths. When designing and building them, Deng Ying knew every brick intimately, but once handed over, they became connected to the current Emperor’s breath, losing their simple nature as mere stone.

Deng Ying turned back and continued walking, sincerely wanting to praise Huang Ran.

“I pray spring’s clarity descends today, Soon turning the world to three feet of ice.”

This line, he had written it sharp as a knife cutting flesh – truly excellent.

At the Hall of Central Harmony, officials waited for the grand banquet. In the Palace of Heavenly Purity, the Empress, Empress Dowager, and consorts were receiving ceremonial greetings from noble ladies under the guidance of the Palace Ritual Bureau’s Reception Officials. At year’s end, Prince Ping’s elderly Princess Consort had returned to the capital to visit the ill Empress Dowager. She was the Empress Dowager’s sister from her maternal family. Since following Prince Ping to his northern fief, she hadn’t returned to the capital. Seeing her sister after many years, they discussed family matters, then talked about the northern border – the Oirat’s yearly harassment and the people’s unbearable suffering – and the conversation grew lengthy.

The other consorts and noble ladies showed little interest in these border matters. Only Consort Ning sat attentively beside the Empress Dowager and elderly Princess Consort, listening and occasionally responding.

The elderly Princess Consort observed her wearing a semi-new gauze jacket and skirt. Though her makeup was formal for the New Year, it wasn’t heavy, and her overall bearing was light and elegant, her manner gentle and appropriate. Quite pleased, she couldn’t help saying to the Empress Dowager, “This is Yi Lang’s mother, isn’t it?”

The Empress Dowager nodded, “Yes.”

The elderly Princess Consort said, “I thought so – only such a noble lady could have raised Your Highness’s grandson to be so well-mannered.”

Then a thought occurred to her, “Does the noble lady have any other sisters?”

Consort Ning looked to the Empress Dowager, not daring to speak rashly. The Empress Dowager answered, “She has a younger sister currently in the Palace Ritual Bureau.”

The elderly Princess Consort quickly said, “Then we must meet her.”

The Empress Dowager smiled, “Are you looking for a match for your grandson?”

“Indeed.”

The elderly Princess Consort looked at Consort Ning, “I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I hadn’t returned, but now that I’m here with Your Highness, I’ll be bold – my grandson hasn’t yet taken a principal wife.”

“A principal wife won’t do.”

The Empress Dowager directly rebuffed this suggestion.

The elderly Princess Consort was confused, but Consort Ning hurriedly rose and knelt.

The Empress Dowager looked down, “What are you doing?”

“Your Highness, please forgive me. Yang Wan…”

“Don’t lose composure before distant guests. Go bring her here – we’ll discuss the rest later.”

During the exchange between the Empress Dowager and Consort Ning, a palace servant bent to whisper something to the elderly Princess Consort. She finally understood – Yang Wan was the Palace Ritual Bureau female official who had been engaged to the Zhang family and later suffered damage to her reputation. She quickly rose and said to the Empress Dowager, “I was being foolish – my grandson is still too young, there’s no rush.”

Hearing this, Consort Ning finally relaxed slightly but then noticed the Empress Dowager’s clear displeasure.

Knowing her presence would only make the Empress Dowager more uncomfortable, she used the excuse of returning to change clothes to withdraw.

Yang Wan had been standing below the moon terrace of the Palace of Heavenly Purity, observing ceremonial matters with two Ceremonial Officials.

Suddenly, a warm small hand grabbed her finger.

“Aunt…”

Yang Wan turned to see Yi Lang looking at her eagerly, appearing to have run through the cold wind – even his cape ties had come undone.

She quickly crouched down to tighten Yi Lang’s cape, “Your Imperial Father is about to take his seat at the Hall of Central Harmony – why are you still here?”

She looked up to ask the accompanying eunuch, “What’s going on?”

The eunuch replied, “His Highness hasn’t been feeling well since early morning and vomited something, but he insisted we not mention it. He was supposed to go to the Hall of Central Harmony, but suddenly said he wanted to find Consort Ning. We had to follow him here, only to find the Consort had gone to change clothes.”

Yang Wan felt Yi Lang’s forehead – fortunately no fever. She had him stand in a sheltered spot while she blocked the snowy wind.

“What’s wrong? Did you eat something that didn’t agree with you earlier?”

Yi Lang shook his head, “I don’t want to go to the Hall of Central Harmony.”

“Why?”

Yi Lang pressed his lips together for a moment, then suddenly mentioned something seemingly unrelated to the banquet.

“The other day, Father Emperor personally came to the Hall of Literary Cultivation and severely reprimanded my lecturer, even making him stand in the cangue outside Wumen Gate.”

After saying this, he frowned, pulling at his leather belt, his eyes reddening. “I pleaded for my teacher, but Father Emperor rebuked me for being ‘young and arrogant.'”

Yang Wan comforted him, “Is Your Highness perhaps afraid?”

“Not afraid, but I feel it’s unfair to my teacher.”

As he said this, his fists were clenched, but his body trembled.

Yang Wan looked at his small hands, sensing his unease.

First as ruler and subject, then as father and son – he was but another life under imperial authority. Though he tried to hide his fear in his words, his body betrayed him.

Yang Wan hugged him, gathering his increasingly cold hands to her chest.

But he trembled even more.

Yang Wan calculated the time, knowing this standoff couldn’t continue. She bent down and softly told him, “This servant will accompany Your Highness there.”

Yi Lang looked up, “Aunt, you’re a female official – you can’t enter the Hall of Central Harmony.”

Yang Wan nodded, “This servant won’t enter. I’ll escort Your Highness there, then wait for you below the moon terrace.”