“Oh?” He Chang’an chuckled softly, setting down his cup to look at her. “Then go ahead and try.”

Try, then. Who’s afraid of whom? Rolling up her sleeves, Hua Chun poured herself another cup.

But after pouring it, she came to her senses, narrowing her eyes at He Chang’an. “Today is my wedding day, and instead of drinking with me, Second Brother, you’re making me pour and drink alone?”

“Sly,” the emperor commented.

He Chang’an raised an eyebrow—these two weren’t foolish, teaming up to needle him now?

“Fine, let’s all drink together,” He Chang’an said with a smile. “No holding back tonight. This wedding’s already lackluster enough, we might as well liven things up.”

Mentioning the wedding made Hua Chun angry all over again. Even He Chang’an had noticed how lackluster it was, yet Yuwen Jie, the emperor responsible, showed not the slightest hint of shame—none at all!

She wasn’t even asking for an apology from an emperor—could she at least get some kind of compensation? But forget compensation, he hadn’t even given a wedding gift!

Forgetful Hua Chun had completely forgotten about the gifts the emperor had already sent to the residence, and simply kept drinking while stewing in her irritation.

Yuwen Jie remained as quiet as ever, only glancing at her when she offered a toast, responding with a word or two, otherwise sitting silently, staring at the dishes on the table, lost in thought about something unknown.

Drinking with someone like this was bound to feel dull, wasn’t it? As the wine flowed, Hua Chun’s courage grew bolder too. She dragged her stool over next to He Chang’an and said, “It’s more fun being with you.”

The emperor’s face darkened, glancing at her.

Hua Jinghua was clearly drunk, her fair neck flushed, her eyes growing hazy, her drinking posture surprisingly practiced and seasoned, eyes half-closed, a silly grin on her face—thoroughly unpleasant to look at from every angle.

If he found someone like this interesting, then something must really be wrong with him—he’d need to summon ten imperial physicians to treat him.

He Chang’an draped an arm over Hua Chun’s shoulder, his own eyes a bit hazy with drink. “I feel comfortable with you too.”

“Hehe.” Hua Chun laughed, reaching over to drape her arm back over his shoulder. “This must be love at first sight between us…”

Yuwen Jie choked on his wine, staring at her in shock.

He Chang’an blinked, seeming not quite to catch it. “What?”

“No, wrong word,” Hua Chun quickly said. “I meant to say, like old friends at first sight.”

“Hahaha.” He Chang’an laughed heartily, pulling her close as he looked at the emperor. “Look how you’ve scared your Elder Brother here—he’s always thought you were inclined toward men, and now you say something like that.”

“He’s the one inclined toward men,” Hua Chun muttered quietly.

Yuwen Jie narrowed his eyes, standing abruptly. “I’m heading back.”

“Ah, guess it’s getting late.” Glancing at the sky outside, He Chang’an said, “Jinghua should be heading to the bridal chamber too. We shouldn’t hold up this beautiful occasion…”

Hua Chun stood up as well. She hadn’t felt that drunk while sitting and drinking, but the moment she stood, the world spun—only then did she realize she really was drunk.

“Safe travels, you two!” Grinning foolishly at them, she waved a hand toward the sky. “Come visit anytime.”

Yuwen Jie glanced at her sideways. “Is it the Prime Minister’s family custom to see off the emperor by standing in place?”

Well, what else was she supposed to do? Hua Chun, thoroughly muddled, felt like her head was stuffed with rocks, and simply knelt down, kowtowing three times with loud thumps. “Safe travels, Your Majesty—”

He Chang’an laughed, reaching down to pull her up. “You’re supposed to see His Majesty off all the way to the door.”

This feudal dynasty had no concept of human rights! Hua Chun stumbled up, leaning against his chest as she rose, grumbling reluctantly, “Fine.”

Both men were quite drunk, though they’d only gone through two jars of wine. Yuwen Jie sneered and turned to walk out.

Only someone as foolish as Hua Jinghua would down every last drop like that—He Chang’an had spilled plenty onto his own sleeve. As for the emperor, needless to say, Eunuch Qin had poured him plain water.

Looking at it this way, Hua Jinghua’s tolerance really was quite good—she’d clearly been lying earlier too.

“The moon’s so round tonight, it must be celebrating our marriage,” Hua Chun said, walking arm in arm with He Chang’an, both of them looking up at the sky like a pair of fools.

“Indeed,” He Chang’an nodded along, his eyes hazy with drink. “We’re married now.”

Yuwen Jie: “…”

Unable to bear listening any longer, the emperor turned and forcibly pulled the two apart, narrowing his eyes at Hua Jinghua. “Sober up.”

“This subject is very sober!” Hua Chun declared solemnly. “What are your orders, Your Majesty?”

Reeking of wine, her eyes full of hazy moonlight, utterly incoherent—was this what passed for sober? Yuwen Jie narrowed his eyes, asking irritably, “What’s your name?”

“You don’t even know that?” The person before him broke into a grin, eyes curving with laughter, moonlight still glinting within them. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

He Chang’an was truly the one who was drunk—he simply collapsed against Eunuch Qin and fell asleep. Eunuch Qin looked anxiously at the emperor, who gave him a look, signaling him to have the man taken home.

As for the one in front of him, he could simply be tossed aside.

Rolling his eyes, Yuwen Jie grabbed Hua Chun by the collar, glanced at the small pond nearby, and moved to throw her in.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t!” Startled, Hua Chun scrambled to wrap her arms and legs around him, just as she had that time in the teahouse, pleading pitifully. “It’s just a name, isn’t it? I’ll even tell you my phone number, just don’t get worked up!”

“Get down!” The emperor was furious. “Hua Jinghua, how dare you!”

Tilting her head, Hua Chun said aggrievedly, “I’m not Hua Jinghua.”

“Then what is it?” Yuwen Jie looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

“Hua Chun.” The person in his arms said very earnestly. “Hē wū ah, fā. Chī wū ēn, chūn.”

Yuwen Jie froze for a moment, and where he’d been angry a second ago, he suddenly burst out laughing.

Fā chūn? What kind of name was that?

It was as if a perfectly still, unrippled lake had been disturbed by a mischievous pebble, sending out lovely ripples. Hua Chun, dazed, reached out and touched Yuwen Jie’s face. “You look so nice when you laugh…”

There’s a saying—the blind fear no cliffs, and the drunk dare tame tigers. This face of the emperor’s, since birth, had never been touched by a third person besides the late emperor and the Empress Dowager. And here she was, not just touching it but pinching it, grinning as she said, “Come on, smile again, don’t scowl! Smile like you just did! I won’t pay you if you don’t smile!”

His face darkening, Yuwen Jie turned and flung the person in his arms straight into the small pond in front of them.

“Wah!” Hua Chun shrieked, her plastered right hand striking against a rock in the rockery, the pain instantly sobering her halfway up.

What had happened? Looking up in a daze at the person on the shore, she felt deeply wronged, pouting. “You threw me again…”

This was nothing like the cold, composed Prime Minister Hua—she looked exactly like an abandoned little stray dog.

Yuwen Jie’s heart softened for a moment, but hearing the sound of many footsteps approaching, he chose to stride away to preserve the emperor’s dignity.

Tonight really must have been cursed—he must have been intoxicated by the wine and milky scent on her, otherwise why would he suddenly think Hua Jinghua was… delectable?

When He Chang’an had used that word to describe the Prime Minister, he’d thought He Chang’an might be inclined toward men. Now it was his own turn, and he found the word fit Hua Jinghua rather well.

This was it, then—he really was starting to become abnormal.

His mood grew notably heavy. Yuwen Jie made his way out of the residence and boarded the imperial carriage, heading back to the palace without looking back.

“Your Majesty?” Eunuch Qin sensed something was off the moment he returned—the emperor’s expression looked rather flustered—and couldn’t help asking, “Is there anything this servant can do for you?”

“No…” Yuwen Jie said. “Let’s return to the palace. I want some time alone.”

Eunuch Qin was somewhat surprised, but still urged the attendants to quicken their pace.

The emperor’s mood had been swinging quite a bit lately. As head eunuch and the emperor’s closest confidant, Eunuch Qin made it his business to read the emperor’s mind, and thinking back over recent events, he considered it carefully.

At other times the emperor seemed perfectly normal—only around matters concerning the Prime Minister did His Majesty seem off. If it were deliberate difficulty, then why grant such favor and even personally attend the wedding? If it were genuine care, then why did he grow so irritable every time he parted from the Prime Minister, as if something kept upsetting him?

Eunuch Qin, old as he was, truly couldn’t fathom this young man’s mind—was this affection or dislike?

Thinking it over, he tentatively asked, “Your Majesty, I heard the Hua family’s third young lady went into the palace today to see Consort Hua, and hasn’t left yet.”

“Mm,” Yuwen Jie acknowledged, saying nothing more.

Eunuch Qin understood then—no interest at all. That meant there was no intention of elevating the Prime Minister’s family further; perhaps His Majesty was just in a mood, and it would pass in time.

“Head to Wanbao Hall,” the emperor said wearily upon returning to the harem. “Have Huo Zhaoyi dance. I want to sleep.”

“Yes,” Eunuch Qin acknowledged.

The heaviest workload in the palace belonged to the dancing girls and any consort who could dance—whatever the emperor did, he wanted them dancing. Reviewing memorials required dancing; even sleeping required dancing.

Most infuriatingly, whatever they danced, the emperor never even watched—he just had them keep dancing without stopping.

Even so, many still worked hard to learn dance in hopes of keeping the emperor overnight, hoping one day to catch his eye.

The palace ran deep with such things…

Hua Chun floated in the pond, dreaming a beautiful dream—dreaming of someone smiling so wonderfully that a thousand years of ice in their eyes shattered in an instant, spring warming and flowers blooming everywhere in a rush of fragrance.

By the time she was fished out, her stomach was already full of water, and she was carried off, hands and feet flailing, to the bridal chamber.

“What happened?” Qing Niao took her, startled, while Pin Tan quickly said, “This servant will attend to the mistress’s washing. Madam, please rest early.”

With that, she helped carry Hua Chun behind the screen to the bathing tub, then had two maids stand guard at the partition, clearly not intending to let anyone through.

Qing Niao, obedient as ever, went to sleep on her own without question.

Incense burned in the room; she fell asleep quickly and deeply. By the time Pin Tan had finished fishing Hua Chun out of the tub and cleaning her up, Qing Niao was already deep in dreamland.

“Mistress?” Pin Tan called softly. “Please be careful. This servant will come attend to you first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Hm?” Hua Chun’s eyes were half-open as she nodded. “Mm.”

Neither of them had the energy left to do anything more—just covering up with the quilt and sleeping properly should be fine, right?

That dream had been so lovely; she wanted to dream it again.

Mumbling something incoherent, Hua Chun climbed into bed and immediately fell back asleep.

The Prime Minister’s residence remained plastered everywhere with “double happiness” characters, but the Hua family had returned home, leaving the courtyard suddenly empty.

The next morning, just as dawn broke, Hua Chun was jolted awake by being physically crushed.

Opening her eyes, she saw Qing Niao beside her, head resting on her chest, sleeping peacefully.

Her chest was still bound with cloth—if this kept up, she’d end up flat as a board! Rubbing her forehead in irritation, she moved Qing Niao’s head aside and sat up. “Pin Tan.”

“This servant is here.” A voice answered from the darkness, startling her. Looking up, she saw Pin Tan step out from the side, official robes already in hand.

Right, yesterday had been the last day of her leave—today she had to attend court.

Sighing, Hua Chun quietly got herself ready, then gently instructed outside the door, “Don’t wake Madam.”

The two young maids outside blushed and nodded quickly.

The aftermath of drinking too much was a headache. Hua Chun rode in her palanquin into the palace, feeling nauseous the whole way, unable to even eat breakfast.

The feeling was too familiar—every time she’d come back from a business function before, she’d be sick for a day or two, and then her boss would mercifully give her a day off, only to make her work double overtime afterward once she returned.

Sigh.

Listlessly stepping down from the palanquin, she followed the others toward Xuanzheng Hall. Many officials passed by her, but none walked alongside to chat with her anymore.

Grand Tutor Tang and the others hadn’t even sent a wedding gift—clearly intent on isolating her. But it wouldn’t work. As the poet once wrote, true courage comes from standing above the clouds that obscure one’s view. No one could hold her hostage through self-interest; she’d already resolved to become a prime minister worth remembering in history.

Straightening her back, Hua Chun strode into the court hall with determined eyes.

There seemed to be more people than usual today. Glancing at the two lines of officials, Hua Chun noticed something—the first person standing in the left row looked somewhat unfamiliar.

“His Majesty arrives—” Eunuch Qin’s voice rang out. Hua Chun quickly averted her gaze and knelt along with everyone else.

Yuwen Jie’s expression wasn’t good either, with noticeable dark circles under his eyes. “Rise, all of you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” The moment Hua Chun looked up and saw the emperor’s face, she felt inwardly relieved.

Misery loves company, after all—at least she wasn’t the only one suffering! She’d dreamed all night, filled with someone’s smile, though she couldn’t quite recall the specific face—just that she’d had too much to drink and hadn’t slept well.

The emperor hadn’t slept well either. That put her at ease.

“Your Majesty.” The first person in the left row stepped forward, cupping his hands. “This subject’s brother has an urgent matter to report.”

Brother? Hua Chun paused slightly, three familiar words from the past few days suddenly surfacing in her mind: Prince Xi.