Huo Zhaoyi paused, half her good mood gone, and immediately turned to look carefully at the stage.

As one dance ended, the crowd around burst into applause, and even Prince Xi nodded: “The Prime Minister has quite the skill. Dancers like these should only exist in heaven — how often can one see them in the mortal world?”

“Indeed, he’s put in a lot of thought,” the Empress Dowager said, nodding as well.

Yuwen Jie still showed no trace of a smile on his face, but he went along with the Empress Dowager’s words: “The Prime Minister has gone to such trouble and effort — for that alone, even if he made some mistake, I as your son could forgive him.”

“It’s good that the Emperor can think this way,” the Empress Dowager said, gazing at him with delight. “In just a few short days, my son seems to have grown up quite a bit.”

The Emperor only smiled without a word. Having landed himself with an ancestor like this one, he had to protect his life — how could he not grow up? He was only saying this to lay the groundwork for what would come later; it was enough if the Empress Dowager took it to heart.

After the dance came a skit. The people here had no idea what a skit was — they only heard the announcer call it “Selling the Cat,” and then three people stepped up and performed.

There were no costumes, just the clothes of ordinary commoners. It told the story of an antique collector who was tricked into buying a kitten for three hundred taels of silver.

The Empress Dowager watched, deeply moved: “People really shouldn’t be too greedy — otherwise they’ll get cheated.”

Prince Xi paused slightly and glanced sideways at her.

Yuwen Jie nodded along. Hua Jinghua’s choice of programs really was quite interesting — entertaining and meaningful. He had no idea where such ideas came from.

After the skit came a comedic dialogue performance. Hua Chun had essentially brought the modern Spring Festival Gala here — and since it was separated by thousands of years, there was no way anyone could sue her for infringement! So she did as she pleased, as long as the people below enjoyed it.

“Time for the main event!”

Standing behind the curtain, Hua Chun was already dressed and made up, her expression solemn as she glanced at He Chang’an beside her: “Second Brother, are you ready?”

He Chang’an’s expression was a little strange. “Are you sure this will have the unexpected effect you’re hoping for?”

“I’m sure!” Hua Chun nodded. “The story of Chenxiang saving his mother is touching to begin with. Add in our combined rich stage performance, and it’s sure to stir up the Empress Dowager’s maternal love and the Emperor’s filial devotion.”

“That’s true enough,” He Chang’an nodded. “But can you tell me why I’m the one wearing women’s clothes?”

The performers nearby cast astonished glances their way. The devastatingly handsome Marquis Gongyu, dressed in a rainbow-colored gown with flowing sleeves!

Hua Chun reached out and patted his shoulder with feeling. “Because no one looks better in women’s clothes than you, Second Brother. Trust my eye — it’s never wrong.”

“I can bear wearing women’s clothes,” He Chang’an said, his expression a little pained. “But isn’t the makeup on my face too heavy?”

“No, no,” Hua Chun giggled. “The heavier the better. Think about it this way — this is a pretty embarrassing thing to do, so with heavier makeup, people below won’t be able to recognize you. That way, the Marquis Gongyu’s elegant and dashing image stays well preserved in everyone’s hearts.”

He Chang’an lowered his head and stared silently at the embroidered tips of his own shoes, thinking it over seriously. It did seem to make sense — as long as no one recognized him, it would be fine.

As for why he’d agreed to go along with such madness with Hua Jinghua and put on this performance — the reason was that Hua Jinghua had said that if an ordinary person performed this play, they might well anger the Emperor and be dragged out and executed. But if the two of them performed it, it would be different — even if the Emperor got angry, he wouldn’t bear to lay a hand on them, meaning they’d have saved two lives between them, and surely earn themselves some good fortune.

This reasoning made a lot of sense, so He Chang’an decided to sacrifice himself just this once.

“Are you sure they won’t recognize me like this?” he asked Hua Chun again, somewhat doubtfully.

Hua Chun nodded with great seriousness. “With makeup this heavy, I guarantee even your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. Second Brother, trust me — I would never do anything to harm your reputation…”

“Next, please enjoy the drama skit — ‘Chenxiang Saves His Mother.’ Performers: Prime Minister Hua and Marquis Gongyu. Everyone, please applaud!”

Outside, the booming announcement rang out again. The moment the audience heard the performers’ names, the crowd erupted.

Marquis Gongyu and Prime Minister Hua were performing in person?!

Wave after wave of cheering nearly tore the backstage area apart, and He Chang’an’s face turned ashen listening to it.

“What did you just say?” he asked with a dry laugh, turning to look at Hua Chun. “No one would recognize me?”

“…Barring anything unexpected, just going by your face, no one really should recognize you,” Hua Chun said. “Second Brother, no need to be nervous — watch me go out first and lead the charge!”

With that she scrambled onto the stage, terrified of being too slow lest He Chang’an snatch up the treasure lotus lantern prop and smash it over her head.

Life was always full of such surprises — perhaps that was what made it exciting. If she hadn’t listed the performers’ names, the Emperor might get halfway through, feel displeased, and without even asking, drag them both out to be executed — wouldn’t that be a terrible injustice?

The purpose of a brother, after all, was to stab you in the back at the critical moment!

After comforting herself, Hua Chun adjusted her mood and threw herself into the stage drama.

The scene on stage was set beneath Mount Hua, mist swirling, with a large painted mural of Mount Hua as the backdrop.

A narrator recited with great feeling: “The heavenly fairy, the Third Sacred Mother, fell in love with a mortal man and bore a son named Chenxiang. For violating heaven’s laws, the Third Sacred Mother was imprisoned beneath Mount Hua, and her treasure, the Lotus Lantern, was stolen by Erlang Shen. To save his mother, Chenxiang diligently studied immortal arts, finally reaching the heavenly palace, reclaiming the Lotus Lantern, and arriving at Mount Hua.”

The audience below listened with rapt attention — the title made clear what tonight’s theme was, and the Empress Dowager was deeply gratified, unable to stop herself from praising Prime Minister Hua from start to finish in her heart!

Chenxiang saving his mother — what a fine choice of play! The performance might be strange, but surely the Emperor would understand its meaning!

She turned to look — the Emperor’s expression was very earnest, a light in his face she’d never seen before.

The Empress Dowager was deeply gratified.

Yuwen Jie’s face was turning green. He gritted his teeth and asked Eunuch Qin under his breath: “Who is that thing up there?”

Eunuch Qin studied it for a long while before quietly answering: “That’s the Prime Minister.”

Wearing tattered clothes, hair styled into a strange topknot, stumbling onto the stage as though she’d knocked her head silly, she went straight down on her knees and burst into loud wailing: “Mother—”

The cry was extremely moving — even the Empress Dowager nearly wept.

Yuwen Jie looked over. Hua Jinghua’s eyes were red, her nose was red too — she was genuinely crying. He hadn’t expected that someone who usually only read memorials could act this well.

He was a little surprised.

Hua Chun, choked by white smoke blown from both sides of the stage, nearly had snot running from her nose, tears streaming down uncontrollably. Wiping her nose with one hand, she wailed at the two cardboard panels propped together to look like a mountain:

“Your unfilial son has only come to save you after all this time!”

That actually seemed convincing. The Emperor nodded and took a sip of tea.

“My child!” The cardboard mountain slowly slid open, and someone in women’s clothing, red-lipped and white-toothed, stepped out: “You’ve finally come. Your mother’s long wait was not in vain!”

“Pfft—” Yuwen Jie sprayed a mouthful of tea all over the Consort Shu beside him.

Hua Xunyue: “……”

Vivid red lips, dark inked brows, and two red sun-like circles on the cheeks. The makeup was terrifying. Even more terrifying was what was piled on the head — what was that? Three tufts sticking straight up — meant to represent the Third Sacred Mother?

If not for the cardboard sign nearby reading “He Chang’an as the Third Sacred Mother,” hung high beside the viewing platform, Yuwen Jie would never in a hundred years have recognized who this was.

Once on stage, He Chang’an actually felt rather good about himself — after all, the moment he appeared, the reaction from below grew noticeably more enthusiastic, surely because he was performing well.

Thinking this, he quickly threw himself into the scene before him, tenderly helping the kneeling Hua Jinghua up, cupping her face in both hands and saying gently: “I thought I would be trapped beneath this mountain for all eternity. I never imagined that you, with your mere mortal flesh, could attain such great power and save me.”

“Mother!” Hua Chun wrapped her arms around his waist and wailed. “Chenxiang missed you so much… I really missed you! A child without a mother is like grass without roots, waaah.”

“Don’t cry, child. With your mother here, no one will ever bully you again.”

The Empress Dowager took out a handkerchief to dab her tears, secretly studying the Emperor’s expression.

This performance really was wonderfully done — even the usually cold and indifferent Emperor seemed moved, something like feeling in his eyes. How wonderful.

But in truth, the Emperor was not moved at all.

His feelings were extremely complicated.

He had already braced himself, expecting to watch the two of them perform some earth-shattering forbidden romance — and instead he got this mother-son sentimental drama?

What expression was he even supposed to wear to face these two lunatics? It was one thing for Hua Jinghua to be crazy, but now even He Chang’an refused to take his medicine too?

And on top of that, he had already put himself through such inner torment and struggle over the thought of the two of them being in love, only to find out this whole thing was meant to persuade him and the Empress Dowager to reconcile?

Lowering his head to seriously reflect, Yuwen Jie realized he’d probably been overthinking things lately, jumping to conclusions about forbidden romance at every turn. These two had been going around together entering the palace to pay respects, wandering around, going out shopping, sticking together for days on end — it had all been for tonight’s performance.

A great stone in his heart landed with a thud. Though there was a touch of anger at having been deceived, that anger was nothing compared to the surging, unstoppable joy welling up inside him now.

On stage, Hua Chun was already pulling He Chang’an into spinning circles, flower petals drifting down from above. She looked at him with utter sincerity: “Blood is thicker than water — the mountain-cleaving axe may split Mount Hua, but it cannot sever the bond of flesh and blood!”

“Indeed, no matter what difficulty comes, as long as mother and son are of one heart, their strength can cut through metal!”

The Empress Dowager nodded along repeatedly, watching.

Prince Xi shifted impatiently beside her, muttering under his breath: “This is far too contrived.”

Given how rebellious the Emperor’s temperament was, it would be strange if he actually took such words to heart.

The Empress Dowager glanced sideways at him, pressed her lips together, then turned to the Emperor with hopeful anticipation: “How was the performance?”

The corners of his mouth curved up slightly. The Emperor nodded: “Truly wonderful.”

Prince Xi’s face looked as though he’d swallowed a fly. He glanced at the two lunatics on stage, then at the Emperor, as if he’d just discovered a third lunatic.

Yuwen Jie’s expression softened as he looked at the weeping Hua Jinghua, his lips curving up. “These past days I was too impulsive. I hope Mother won’t take it to heart.”

The Empress Dowager was stunned for a moment, then overjoyed, quickly saying: “This one has also been at fault in places. It’s enough that the Emperor can understand — it’s enough that he can forgive me!”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” the Emperor said. “You saw what was said up there — mother and son of one heart, their strength cutting through metal. I think there’s truth in that.”

“Oh, oh.” The Empress Dowager nodded, turning back to look at Hua Jinghua with exceptional joy.

With Prime Minister Hua around, things really were wonderful!