Yuwen Jie glanced at her: “You have books here?”

“Of course I do.” Huo Zhaoyi rose, gave a small bow, and headed with her maids to the rear hall.

Yuwen Jie shook the book in his hands and continued reading without a word. Hua Chun smiled awkwardly, waiting until Huo Zhaoyi returned with the books.

“These are all things I usually enjoy reading,” Huo Zhaoyi said, presenting them to the Emperor.

Glancing at them sideways, Yuwen Jie nodded and took them, handing them over to Hua Chun: “Huo Zhaoyi is gentle and considerate — won’t the Prime Minister thank her?”

“Thank you, Consort Zhaoyi.” Hua Chun obediently rose and nodded, then took the books to look through.

Her first impression had been that Huo Zhaoyi was bewitching, but glancing at these books, she found them to be rather charming collections of strange tales — quite interesting, actually.

Since the woman had helped smooth things over for her like this, she naturally began to think better of her, feeling she wasn’t nearly as troublesome as the Empress Dowager had made her out to be. Grateful, she settled in to read.

Huo Zhaoyi returned to sitting in the Emperor’s lap.

And so, an emperor, a minister, and a consort sat together harmoniously, reading for a full hour.

Hua Chun read with great interest — the book was handwritten, the calligraphy quite fine, even carrying a faint fragrance, the kind of thing a young lady would enjoy.

But upon turning to the last page, she found a blank sheet with no text — only a portrait.

Startled, Hua Chun looked at it carefully. The brushwork was skillful; the young lady in the painting looked almost like a celestial maiden, her features lovely, her flowing robes carrying an otherworldly grace. Though the strokes were simple and unpainted with color, it had that distinctive charm unique to classical portraits of court ladies.

But who was this a painting of?

Without dwelling on it too much, and noticing the time was about right, with the Emperor beside her already having gone through a stack of memorials, Hua Chun rose with satisfaction and said: “Your Majesty has worked hard — this official should take their leave as well.”

“What’s the Prime Minister in such a hurry for?”

Come whenever you please and leave whenever you please? Yuwen Jie, quite displeased, glanced at her: “The Empress Dowager’s orders are orders — are mine not?”

Huh? Hua Chun was stunned — was he really going to fight her on this too? For heaven’s sake, it was nearly noon already; if she didn’t leave the palace now, she’d miss lunch entirely. Why keep her here? Did he want her to keep reading?

Grumbling inwardly, she kept her expression respectful nonetheless: “Your Majesty, please calm yourself.”

“I’m not angry,” the Emperor said. “Continue sitting here and accompanying my reading.”

Hua Chun: “…”

Glancing out at the deep blue sky outside, she sighed helplessly and resignedly picked up another book to read.

Even Huo Zhaoyi looked tired, murmuring to Yuwen Jie: “Your Majesty, wouldn’t you like to rest a while?”

“Mm.” The Emperor nodded. “I probably should rest. I’ll go lie down in your quarters.”

Hua Chun brightened: “Then this official—”

“You stay here and keep reading.” Yuwen Jie said without turning back. “We’ll continue once I wake.”

How utterly inhumane! Hua Chun’s face turned green. What grudge, what feud was this! Hadn’t she already said none of this was her fault — she was just an innocent duck forced onto the stage — why was he taking it out on her?

Watching the Emperor’s retreating figure, she let out a couple of resentful quacks in her mind: Quack! Quack!

Huo Zhaoyi went to attend the Emperor to the rear hall to rest, leaving Hua Chun to continue reading through the pile of books carrying a faint feminine fragrance.

“Prime Minister.”

Before long, Huo Zhaoyi came back out, standing about three steps away and said: “These were all copied out by Xianrou’s own hand. The handwriting’s a bit messy — can you still read it?”

“Copied by the consort’s own hand?” Hua Chun was a little surprised, examining the characters again — the script was elegant, nearly as neat as print. Her opinion of the woman rose further: “I can read it just fine. Your calligraphy skill is truly admirable, Consort.”

Huo Xianrou smiled, a smile so captivating it briefly stunned even Hua Chun, who thought to herself that being good-looking really wasn’t a crime at all — the woman could read, write beautifully, so why did the Empress Dowager guard against her so much?

“You flatter me, Prime Minister.” Seeing the expression on the Prime Minister’s face before her, Huo Xianrou was delighted, twisting her handkerchief as she said: “Xianrou also knows the Empress Dowager doesn’t quite trust her, which is why she sent you here. But the Prime Minister holds considerable standing at court, and surely isn’t one to judge by hearsay alone — if the chance arises, I hope the Prime Minister might put in a good word for me before the Empress Dowager.”

“This official understands,” Hua Chun nodded.

The Empress Dowager herself had said she’d only heard secondhand that Huo Xianrou’s character was poor, with no concrete evidence — Hua Chun couldn’t very well judge someone based on one-sided accounts. Aside from the provocative dancing, what she’d seen of Huo Zhaoyi today showed nothing objectionable. If the Empress Dowager asked, she supposed she ought to put in a good word.

Lunchtime had already arrived, and Hua Chun’s stomach was growling with hunger. Eunuch Qin had already begun preparing the Emperor’s meal, and plate after fragrant plate was carried straight past her into the rear hall.

“Prime Minister.” Eunuch Qin was truly a bit embarrassed himself — how would it look to leave a first-rank official sitting hungry in the outer hall?

But the Emperor had said: “No need to worry — the Prime Minister will manage.”

So for now, Eunuch Qin could only bow to her apologetically.

Hua Chun sat up perfectly straight, having more or less expected the Emperor wouldn’t let her off easily today, so she nodded calmly: “There’s no need to worry, Eunuch.”

“Ah.” Eunuch Qin sighed and went back into the rear hall to attend the Emperor.

By the time the Emperor finished his meal, it was already well past noon. Hua Chun stared out at the layered eaves of the palace roofs with an utterly hopeless expression, her mind filled with nothing but thoughts of steamed pork ribs, braised pork ribs, spicy pork ribs…

“Prime Minister Hua.” Yuwen Jie called out to her.

“Ribs, present.”

For a moment the Emperor thought his ears had malfunctioned, frowning in confusion at the person before him, whose eyes had gone completely vacant: “What did you say?”

Hua Chun snapped back to her senses at once and bowed respectfully: “This official is here!”

Looking at her with disdain, the Emperor said: “Come with me to Zichen Hall to discuss state affairs.”

More state affairs?! Hua Chun wanted desperately to grab his collar and roar at him — he’d taken a nap and eaten a full meal, while she hadn’t had so much as a sip of water since leaving morning court! Could he not treat her like a human being for once!

Cursing the Emperor a thousand times over in her heart, she still managed a smile on the surface: “This official obeys.”

Why didn’t the heavens strike this heartless man down with lightning?

Following him out on unsteady legs, the sun was still blazing overhead, dazzling her eyes with a wash of white light.

Yuwen Jie, for his part, seemed to be in much better spirits, dragging the Prime Minister along to discuss state affairs for a full hour, then leaving Prime Minister Hua waiting outside the study for another half hour, and finally, come dinnertime, showing no sign of intending to feed her either, simply handing her a book to read in the outer hall.

This relentless series of torments left even Eunuch Qin unable to bear it, wanting to sneak her something to eat — except the Emperor seemed to have eyes on the back of his head: “No one is to bring him anything.”

Eunuch Qin sighed helplessly, knowing his Emperor’s tendency to torment people had flared up again. Ah, and the Empress Dowager too — knowing full well how difficult it already was for Prime Minister Hua to protect himself, and yet still sending him to court this kind of trouble.

Still, aside from Prime Minister Hua, no one else in the court had the nerve to offend the Emperor and still walk away without being executed.

He’d simply have to endure it.

For dinner, Marquis Gongyu was invited into the palace. He Chang’an had been wondering why he hadn’t found anyone at the Hua estate that day, and the moment he stepped into the rear hall of Zichen Hall, he saw Hua Jinghua sitting there on a chair outside, half-dead, eyes vacant.

“Prime Minister?” He Chang’an said, delighted, walking over to look at her lifeless eyes: “What happened to you?”

Hua Chun felt as though she could no longer hear anything at all, her mind filled only with the wailing of her own stomach, each groan like a horn heralding the apocalypse, the whole world seeming to darken around her, pressing heavily down on her heart.

So… miserable…

He Chang’an raised an eyebrow and glanced at the attendant nearby, who gestured for him to go on to the rear hall first.

“Your Majesty?” Seeing the figure in dragon robes, He Chang’an said, torn between laughing and sighing: “What’s going on out in the front hall?”

“Never mind that,” Yuwen Jie said. “Some people don’t know their place, and naturally need to suffer a little.”

Sitting down beside him, He Chang’an said: “Looking at Prime Minister Hua, he seems half-dead already. What punishment did Your Majesty give him?”

“Nothing,” the Emperor said matter-of-factly. “I just haven’t fed him for a day.”

He Chang’an: “…” A single day without food could reduce someone to that state? Looking at him, it really was pitiable.

“Though I don’t know what happened, Prime Minister Hua surely didn’t do anything wrong — in fact, he must have been of some help to Your Majesty. Am I right?”

Glancing sideways at him, Yuwen Jie said: “Speaking up for him again?”

“It’s not about speaking up for him.” He Chang’an said with a faint laugh. “This habit of yours hasn’t changed since childhood — the moment someone does something that displeases you, even if they were in the right, you have to make them suffer for it. That’s enough for now — you’ve been busy all day, your temper should have cooled by now. Why not let him come eat a bit, to show some magnanimity? Otherwise the Empress Dowager will come looking for trouble again.”

Only He Chang’an would dare say such things. The Emperor gave an unhappy huff, glanced at the dishes on the table, then turned and gestured to Eunuch Qin.

Relieved, Eunuch Qin immediately sent someone to help the Prime Minister into the rear hall.

“This official pays respects to Your Majesty.”

Hua Chun’s heart had truly turned to ash by this point. Not letting her eat was one thing — now they wanted her to watch them eat too?

How cruel could you get!

Just as her mental curses were about to start up again, she heard the Emperor say: “Rise, come sit.”

Huh? Hua Chun blinked in surprise, looking up at the table laden with delicacies, swallowing hard.

He Chang’an smiled, warm as polished jade: “You’ve had a hard time of it, Prime Minister. His Majesty has specially granted this banquet for the two of us — quite the great honor.”

Thanks so much to him and his whole family — Hua Chun followed along, cupping her hands gratefully toward Yuwen Jie. He still had a shred of humanity left after all — how touching!

Yuwen Jie said nothing further, and the attendants nearby began serving the dishes as he quietly began his meal.

He Chang’an, however, had no intention of sitting idle. Pulling his stool closer to Hua Chun, he said: “You shouldn’t eat too fast after going hungry so long, Prime Minister — take it slow.”

“Mm.” Hua Chun nodded, glancing at him with deep gratitude, then picked up her chopsticks and, as soon as the servants set food before her, dug in ravenously.

He Chang’an: “…”

This person’s table manners weren’t crude exactly, but she ate incredibly fast — like a rabbit gnawing a radish — clearing an entire bowl of food in just two bites, faster than the servants could keep up with serving her, leaving them sweating with the effort.

Yuwen Jie glanced up at her in a spare moment, his disdain deepening further: “The Prime Minister should mind their manners as well.”

“Huh?” Hua Chun looked up blankly and wiped her mouth with her hand.

Well, that just smeared all the oil onto her hand instead.

Yuwen Jie stared at her across the table in shock, the look in his eyes no longer something that could be summed up merely as disdain.

Did she really not find this the least bit unsightly?

He Chang’an, on the other hand, looked thoroughly entertained, reaching over and offering her his own handkerchief: “Here, wipe your hands quickly.”

“Thank you.” Looking at them both a little sheepishly, Hua Chun cleared her throat, wiped her hands, and her movements finally began to turn graceful again.

“Chang’an.” The Emperor swept a glance over him. “Are you here to eat, or here to watch someone?”

Hua Jinghua had already put away a full bowl of rice, while he had been staring at her and smiling the whole time, not having touched a bite of his own food.

“Doesn’t Your Majesty think so too?” He Chang’an said, stroking his chin as he looked at Hua Jinghua: “Prime Minister Hua’s beauty is a feast for the eyes.”

The Emperor: “…”

Hua Chun: “…”

Damn it, she’d just been flirted with!