Hua Chun startled, and looking down, saw blood dripping from her right hand’s fingers like a faucet that hadn’t been shut tight. Lifting her sleeve, she saw the flesh beneath the shattered cast was a bloody mess — she’d been too focused on running earlier to notice, but now that she saw it, the pain hit her.

“Ow—”

“Don’t move!” Yuwen Jie frowned, gripping her shoulder. “Wait for the imperial physician to bandage it. Sit down for now.”

The attendants nearby had already rushed off to the Imperial Physician’s office. Hua Chun stared blankly at the door, then at her own hand, anxious but helpless.

“Why does the palace keep having assassins show up?” she said. “The security risk is far too great!”

The Emperor pressed his lips together and glanced at her. “I said long ago that the palace guards needed to be replaced, that patrol arrangements needed reorganizing. It was the Prime Minister and General Meng together who opposed it at the time.”

Huh? Hua Chun was surprised. Hua Jinghua was someone so loyal to the Emperor — how could he possibly have opposed that proposal? Though replacing the palace guards carried significant risk too, surely they couldn’t just let the Emperor keep living in this kind of environment?

But Prime Minister Hua was someone who considered matters very thoroughly — he must have had his own reasons for doing so. What could that reason be? Hua Chun couldn’t figure it out, her face scrunched up in thought.

“The Prime Minister should have seen the state of the palace by now,” Yuwen Jie said flatly. “Does he still not want me to overhaul the inner palace?”

Hua Chun opened her mouth, hesitated, but eventually said: “If Your Majesty wants to reorganize, then let’s reorganize. It’s a good time to investigate where these assassins, who come and go so freely in the palace, are actually coming from!”

“Good.” The Emperor’s expression eased slightly, a faint trace of praise in his eyes. “That the Prime Minister can see the bigger picture like this pleases me greatly.”

He could still speak this calmly? Hua Chun frowned, looking at him. “Are you really not worried about the Marquis at all?”

“I’m worried,” Yuwen Jie glanced at her. “But I won’t be crying tears like you. A real man doesn’t cry easily.”

Hua Chun bared her teeth. Damn it, she wasn’t a man — she’d cry however she pleased, so what!

“This kind of thing has happened to Chang’an at least five times before,” he said. “He knows very well how to escape from people like that, so there’s really no need for you to be this anxious.”

At least five times? Hua Chun clicked her tongue, an image immediately surfacing in her mind of He Chang’an doing parkour along palace walls every day, knocking out an assassin and having a “1” pop up over its head, with a string of coin rewards trailing along the way.

Shaking her head, trying to make herself act a bit more serious, Hua Chun looked at Yuwen Jie: “If it weren’t for the Marquis a moment ago, I would have died already.”

“Oh,” the Emperor nodded. “So what do you plan to do? Once he returns safely, offer yourself to him in marriage?”

“…Your Majesty, I am a man.”

His mood inexplicably souring, Yuwen Jie stopped paying attention to her, turned, and saw the imperial physician outside carrying his case in. “Once the Prime Minister’s wound is bandaged, have him rest at Purple Chen Hall tonight.”

Then, turning aside: “Any word of the Marquis, report to me immediately.”

“Yes.” Eunuch Qin acknowledged.

Hua Chun frowned as the imperial physician applied medicine to her, her eyes still darting toward the door.

Watching her wear an expression of “unable to rest until her beloved returns safely,” the Emperor’s face showed nothing but disdain. He shook his head and went into the inner hall.

The sky had grown very late; the whole palace had quieted down. Hua Chun sat by the side hall door, holding up her bandaged hand — wrapped up like a dumpling — gazing worriedly into the distance, waiting.

“Your Majesty?”

On the dragon bed, the Emperor tossed and turned. Eunuch Qin asked quietly: “Shall I light some calming incense?”

Rubbing his brow, Yuwen Jie said quietly: “No need. Has Prime Minister Hua gone to sleep?”

“Reporting to Your Majesty, the Prime Minister is sitting at the side hall door — he hasn’t slept at all.”

Rising irritably, Yuwen Jie said: “Go persuade him into the hall, then light as much calming incense as you need. Don’t let him sit there at the door making people uncomfortable.”

Eunuch Qin fell silent.

She was sitting by the door — Your Majesty couldn’t even see her from here, so how was it uncomfortable exactly?

Withdrawing silently, he went and stood before Prime Minister Hua anyway, cupping his hands: “Prime Minister, His Majesty has decreed that you should rest well. If there’s any news of the Marquis, this servant will let you know.”

Hua Chun looked at him with bleary eyes: “It’s fine, I’m just sitting here looking at the stars.”

Glancing up at the pitch-black sky, Eunuch Qin let out a long sigh and said earnestly: “If you don’t sleep, His Majesty can’t sleep either. There’s still court tomorrow morning.”

“I can’t sleep — how would that affect His Majesty?” Hua Chun glared. “I’m not even making any noise.”

Who could say why — but usually His Majesty fell asleep very quickly, and tonight, even after half an hour of tossing and turning, he still showed no sign of sleepiness. Eunuch Qin shook his head and bowed toward Prime Minister Hua: “Please go into the hall first.”

Not even the freedom to stay awake! Hua Chun puffed out her cheeks, rose listlessly, and made her way into the side hall. Not even bothering to change clothes, she flopped onto the bed like a corpse.

And promptly fell fast asleep!

Relieved, Eunuch Qin closed the hall door and returned to the rear hall.

At the break of dawn, Hua Chun felt someone sitting at the edge of her bed — a figure in a blue-green robe, warm and gentle as jade.

“Second Brother!” Delighted, she opened her eyes and, without a shred of restraint, threw herself forward.

She ended up face to face with Yuwen Jie’s darkened expression instead.

Rubbing her eyes, the blue-green robe turned into a bright yellow dragon robe. Hua Chun gave a couple of dry laughs, pulled her arms back, and got out of bed to bow respectfully: “This subject pays respects to Your Majesty.”

The Emperor looked down at her coldly: “Only the Prime Minister in this whole court would dare overstep like this, again and again.”

Shrinking her neck, Hua Chun quickly said: “This subject was only still half-dreaming and didn’t see clearly it was Your Majesty. Please forgive this subject.”

Still half-dreaming — meaning she’d spent the whole night dreaming of He Chang’an?

Yuwen Jie scoffed, looking at her pale neck, eyes narrowing: “He’s already back at the Marquis’s residence. Slightly injured.”

“What?” Hua Chun looked up in surprise. “Already back?”

“Yes, Zichong just reported it,” he said. “You can rest easy now.”

He’d actually made it safely back to his residence from being surrounded like that? Hua Chun was stunned, unable to work out just what method he’d used to escape. Could it be he really had run enough times to gain the experience needed — was that why the Emperor was so at ease?

Either way, he was fine, so she no longer needed to torment herself over it.

Kneeling on the floor, Hua Chun grinned and said to the Emperor: “Your Majesty should attend court too.”

“No need for you to remind me.” Yuwen Jie stood, his voice utterly without warmth. “Today the Prime Minister need not attend morning court — go discuss the palace guard arrangements with Huo Zichong instead. I intend to clear out all the filth in this palace within three days.”

Seeing his rather stern expression, Hua Chun sobered up too and cupped her hands in acknowledgment: “Yes.”

Surely skipping one day of morning court as Prime Minister wouldn’t be a problem? Lately all she did there was stand around and say a few empty words anyway, no great contribution. Thinking this, Hua Chun went off cheerfully to find Huo Zichong.

Xuanzheng Hall.

Everyone could see the empty seat on the right. When the Emperor hadn’t yet arrived, they’d assumed Prime Minister Hua was simply running late — but once the Emperor arrived and court began, Prime Minister Hua still hadn’t appeared.

What was going on? Everyone speculated privately.

“Prime Minister Hua has matters to attend to today; I’ve excused him from court. Various ministers, please speak your minds freely.” The Emperor offered this explanation the moment he arrived.

Prince Xi raised an eyebrow.

Prime Minister Hua had rendered great service just yesterday — one would think the Emperor would grow even closer to him. Yet after just one night, he wasn’t even allowed to attend court?

How very interesting.

He Chang’an stood in the ranks on the right, a faint scratch on his chin, all his wounds hidden beneath his robes. Hearing the Emperor’s words, he was the first to step forward: “This subject has a matter to report.”

Yuwen Jie looked toward him.

“Yesterday, assassins infiltrated the palace intending to kill this subject and Prime Minister Hua. We were fortunate enough to escape, but this subject is truly concerned for Your Majesty’s safety. I therefore propose a thorough inspection of the palace guards, maids, and eunuchs, a review against the registers, the dismissal of any negligent guards, and their replacement with Your Majesty’s own personal guards, to ensure Your Majesty’s complete safety.”

The moment these words left his mouth, the court erupted in an uproar.

General Meng stepped forward: “The Marquis’s words may be somewhat lacking in consideration. The palace staff number in the thousands — a thorough inspection would be difficult. The guards, moreover, are directly tied to Your Majesty’s life — reshuffling them carelessly might not be wise.”

“The guards have already failed in their duty more than once — keeping them on is the true danger to His Majesty,” He Chang’an said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the bandaged wound on his arm. “Yesterday it was this subject and Prime Minister Hua. Must you wait until such a wound falls on His Majesty before you’re willing to take real action?”

The ministers fell silent. General Meng frowned: “These assassins were targeting the Marquis and the Prime Minister specifically — this is likely a personal grudge, unrelated to His Majesty. To rush into replacing the palace guards just because the Marquis was attacked — even the Prime Minister, I’m afraid, would not agree with this.”

“The Prime Minister has already agreed,” the Emperor said flatly. “And I agree with Marquis Gongyu’s view as well.”

General Meng startled, then frowned: “Impossible. The Prime Minister himself once said that Your Majesty’s personal guards should not be casually reshuffled. I hope Your Majesty will not act rashly on impulse.”

Grand Tutor Li stepped forward as well: “If this old subject may speak bluntly — is it not perhaps related to this matter that the Prime Minister is absent from court today? The appointment and reassignment of the guards is a matter of great consequence, with far-reaching implications. I hope Your Majesty will heed the counsel of loyal subjects.”

“Do you all think I’m lying?” the Emperor said with a faint laugh. “Why not, after court, all of you go ask the Prime Minister yourselves. This matter will proceed as Marquis Gongyu proposed. Any objections can wait until after you’ve asked the Prime Minister’s opinion — how does that sound?”

Grand Tutor Li fell silent. General Meng, wearing an expression of great concern for the nation, stepped back into line as well.

Prince Xi lowered his eyes without a word, glanced across at the various ministers opposite him, and smiled faintly.

“I intend to promote Vice Minister of Justice Qian Songtao to Minister of Justice, to fill the vacancy left by the former minister,” Yuwen Jie said.

“This subject has words to offer!”

“This subject has words to offer!”

The moment he finished speaking, seven or eight people stepped forward from both sides of the hall at once.

The ones stepping forward now were all those opposed to his proposal. Yuwen Jie was somewhat taken aback; He Chang’an was equally surprised.

How could there be so many objections? Could it be that his choice of candidate wasn’t a good one?