A little surprised, Hua Chun reached over and picked it up to flip through.
What was written on it was pure flattery toward the Emperor — wise and brilliant, unmatched in this world, every flowery compliment imaginable piled onto him. It read as unbearably sycophantic, with no substantive content whatsoever, and it was no wonder it had been marked as discarded.
But on this very discarded memorial, Hua Jinghua had marked up a great deal in vermillion ink, adding numerous comments in the margins.
“Ascending the throne so young — clearly reckless and self-indulgent. How does that earn the title of a peerless ruler through the ages?”
“With so many beauties filling the harem, who could call him free of desire?”
Every overly flattering line had been mocked with a comment beside it by Prime Minister Hua. Perhaps knowing this memorial was destined to be discarded, he’d written with complete abandon. There were no outright insults toward the Emperor, and everything said was technically true, but it was clearly laced with provocation and… some strange kind of feeling.
She stared blankly for a while, then flipped to the end.
The person who’d written this memorial was quite the character too — after a whole page of flattery, they finished with the line: “The heavens are jealous of talent, and sages often die young. Your Majesty must all the more take care of your health, and live to a hundred years.”
Clearly an unskilled ghostwriter — thank goodness this memorial had never been submitted. If the Emperor had actually seen it, the writer wouldn’t have lived much longer. Though the intention was to wish the Emperor good health, the phrasing itself was remarkably inauspicious.
Prime Minister Hua’s handwriting after this line was unusually forceful, each stroke written with force:
“His Majesty will live ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years. No need for the likes of you to worry.”
Staring at this line, Hua Chun froze, the strange feeling in her chest growing even stranger.
Reading the earlier memorials, she’d assumed Prime Minister Hua must resent Yuwen Jie, which was why he was so at odds with him. But seeing this line, she suddenly felt that perhaps Hua Jinghua’s feelings toward the Emperor were…
“Young master.” Pin Tan’s voice suddenly sounded from outside. “It’s time for the midday meal. Will you eat here in the study, or go to the front hall?”
Scrambling to gather up the memorials and put them back in order, Hua Chun thought for a moment and called out, “The front hall.”
She still hadn’t met the rest of the household — she really ought to make a proper impression on everyone.
Pin Tan acknowledged, opened the door, came in to help her up, and murmured quietly in her ear, “Madam and Concubine Ren had words with each other earlier. Please be careful.”
What? Another quarrel? Hua Chun asked curiously, “Why?”
“It’s about the courtyard renovation again,” Pin Tan said helplessly. “Madam went to tell Lord Hua about it, and Concubine Ren overheard. She seemed to react with a bit too much satisfaction, which angered Madam. Since the courtyard renovation being halted is tied to the Noble Consort, Madam naturally took some of that anger out on Concubine Ren.”
Concubine Ren was Hua Liuying’s birth mother. Though only a concubine, with her daughter now a Noble Consort, her standing in the household was not to be underestimated. However sharp-tongued Madam Wan might be, she didn’t dare push things too far with her — the most she could do was exchange a few heated words.
Sighing, Hua Chun followed Pin Tan outside, still feeling a bit guilty inside. Madam Wan, with her flamboyant personality, had surely boasted about the renovation all over the place before it was halted, and now she was probably being mocked behind her back.
She needed to figure out a way to make up for this.
Lord Hua was a capable man, and he had four concubines alone, one of whom had passed away early. The remaining three, dressed in fine silk, sat around the table. Each concubine had a child beside her — the eldest looked to be around fifteen or sixteen, while the youngest, Fifth Young Master Hua Jing’an, appeared to be about ten.
She recalled finding a letter in the study from Prime Minister Hua’s grandfather, essentially saying that Lord Hua had been a disappointment, unable to pass the imperial examinations, and that if he could live to see his grandson become Prime Minister, the old man would die without regret.
Which meant Lord Hua likely held no official rank of his own — hence why the residence was simply called “the Hua residence.”
“Father, Mother.” The moment she stepped through the door, Hua Chun offered her greetings out of habit, and only as she bowed did it strike her as strange.
Had she really watched too many period dramas? Why did bowing in greeting come so naturally to her?
Madam Wan still looked somewhat displeased, but her tone softened once she saw Hua Chun. “My child, come sit.”
The table in the front hall was quite large, but the dishes were laid out separately in front of each person — six small plates per setting, clean and convenient, allowing multiple people to share the same table comfortably. Not bad at all.
Hua Chun nodded, gently touched her still-aching backside, and carefully sat down on her stool.
Because of the pain, there was no way to move gracefully, no matter how hard she tried, and her movements came out looking a bit comical. Concubine Ren, sitting nearby, noticed and let out a giggle behind her hand.
Madam Wan’s gaze shot over sharp as a blade. “Feeling pleased with yourself?”
“Please don’t be angry, Madam,” Concubine Ren said with a smile. “I meant nothing by it — I was simply thinking what fine weather we’re having today.”
“Is that so?” Madam Wan gave a cold laugh, lifting her chin toward the dishes on the table, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Of course. Those without shoes can’t laugh at those who wear them, can they? Someone who can’t even produce a son laughing at another’s accomplished child?”
Concubine Ren blinked, glanced at the silent Lord Hua, then dabbed at her mouth with a handkerchief, smiling without warmth. “Hasn’t Madam heard the saying? ‘A son brings no joy, a daughter no sorrow — has no one seen how Consort Wei once ruled the world?’ What’s wrong with having a daughter? She still rises to a grand palace hall, and at least she won’t be subjected to a flogging.”
As she spoke, she glanced sideways at Hua Chun. “The Hua family has served loyally for generations, and Prime Minister Hua is the very first to be flogged before the entire court. Quite the achievement indeed.”
Being publicly flogged at court was a deeply humiliating affair — a less resilient elder might have gone home and hanged himself over the shame. It was only thanks to the Empress Dowager sending the Emperor personally to the Hua residence to inquire after his health that the family had been given a way to save face; otherwise, they truly wouldn’t have been able to hold their heads up.
“You—!” With her fiery temper, Madam Wan couldn’t tolerate words like that. She slammed the table and shot to her feet, glaring furiously, ready to explode.
“Enough!” Lord Hua, who had stayed silent this whole time, chose exactly the right moment to intervene, his low, stern shout instantly making Madam Wan swallow back her words.
Hua Chun turned to look at this man — a thin, refined face that bore a passing resemblance to her own modern-day father, an air of scholarly refinement about him that gave him a gentle, cultured presence. Yet his words still carried real weight; the entire table fell silent and lowered their heads.
“Still arguing after all this time? Isn’t it over yet?” Hua Zhengrong glanced between Madam Wan and Concubine Ren. “Even the children know better — and here you two are, causing such a fuss!”
“My lord,” Madam Wan said quietly, “she provoked me first.”
“Blame me for being reckless, then,” Concubine Ren said, rolling her eyes. “But if elder sister didn’t keep bringing up sons and daughters every chance she got, I wouldn’t react so strongly either.”
Madam Wan gave an incredulous laugh. “Don’t think I don’t know what methods you used to get the Second Miss into the palace. And now you dare gloat about it? It’s an undeniable fact that Liuying has outdone the eldest young master! If it weren’t for Liuying pleading with His Majesty at the time, would the eldest young master even have made it back alive?”
Well, there they went again. Hua Chun quietly picked up a couple bites of food and popped them in her mouth.
“Calling you fat and you’re already out of breath. If the Second Miss is so capable, why hasn’t it benefited the Hua family at all? She’s the only one enjoying herself in the palace — His Majesty hasn’t granted us so much as a single reward. If it weren’t for my son, would that distant nephew of yours even have made it into the Six Ministries?”