Water still dampened the floor, along with fragments of porcelain she hadn’t picked up completely.

She knelt there, the crimson official skirt at her knees slightly moistened, with sharp edges of broken porcelain visible beneath. Her expression was serene, her eyes bright with moisture.

Among those who stayed at the academy last night was her.

He heard her clearly, but the coldness in his eyes grew heavier as he asked once more: “Besides you, who else?”

She smiled at him, saying softly: “Since the founding of our dynasty, no one has been allowed to enter the Hanlin Academy after it’s locked at night; except for the Emperor, not even the Three Excellencies may break this rule. May I ask what urgent matter brings Your Highness to violate this tradition tonight?”

Everyone present knew the reason, yet she alone dared to ask him such a question.

Fang Huai frowned behind them, looking up at her. The gazes of several others nearby also changed slightly, all anxious for her.

Ying Gua remained seated, staring at her.

What urgent matter?

From this morning until now, who in the inner palace didn’t know why he was angry?

Even among the Hanlin scholars and secretaries in this Imperial Edict Hall, who else would dare ask such a nonchalant question?

And she even used such grand ancestral rules to pressure him.

He knew she was good at pretending, and he knew that behind her every word and phrase lurked cunning intentions. But at this moment, he truly had no patience to spar with her, nor did he want to look at her seemingly clear and innocent eyes.

His knuckles were rigidly cold. With the slightest movement, he felt his bones cracking softly.

“Meng Tinghui.”

He spoke, but only called her name, nothing more.

She lowered her eyes, understanding the situation and knowing when to advance or retreat. She could hear the severity in those three syllables. She lowered her sleeves, reached into her sleeve pocket, and pulled out a thin memorial. Holding it with both hands, she respectfully raised it to her forehead: “Last night, the scholars and secretaries were ordered to draft an edict. I, as a compiler, was assisting on the side, waiting to copy the draft onto the imperial paper after it was completed. However, due to my lower rank and limited experience, I had never stayed overnight at the academy before. Last night was my first time, and because I didn’t understand the rules, I mistakenly copied a discarded draft instead of the actual edict. This morning, the attendant presented the copy to Your Highness at the Inner Court Hall without careful verification, causing Your Highness to become so angry that you came to the academy at night to question us, disregarding ancestral rules. All of these failures are my responsibility. This is my memorial requesting punishment. I hope Your Highness will calm your anger.”

Everyone was astonished.

None of the Hanlin Academy members behind her expected her to say such things, but no matter how surprised they were, they maintained impassive expressions.

His expression also changed abruptly.

How could he have imagined that the draft edict which had caused such a stir today in the Inner Court Hall, the Six Ministries, and even the Imperial Secretariat and various departments, would be reduced to a mere misunderstanding in just a few sentences from her?

What was even more unexpected was that she had already prepared a memorial requesting punishment, as if she had known he would come and had been waiting specifically for him to question her.

She was forcing him to believe her words.

But how could he truly believe what she said?

Even if she had no prior experience, she couldn’t possibly be foolish enough to copy a discarded draft as the official edict. And how could an edict not be checked again before being sent to the Inner Court Hall?

But since she had said this, the senior officials of the Hanlin Academy wouldn’t speak up to contradict her—she had taken all the blame upon herself. They were probably more than happy and wouldn’t challenge the truthfulness of her words.

However, the discarded draft was still written by someone. Even if it was erroneously copied and circulated due to a mistake, it was enough to reveal the attitude of the Hanlin officials regarding Wang Qi’s dismissal from his Qingzhou Vice Magistrate position.

But he could no longer investigate further.

Her hands remained raised, fingers slightly curved, the thin memorial lying quietly in her palms, white as snow, painfully bright.

His anger didn’t subside; instead, it was further provoked by her proactive admission of guilt. Yet his expression was no longer as dark as before—since the age of fourteen, he had been handling affairs in the Court Hall, observing countless political matters both large and small. How could he not know how to act?

So he slightly curved his lips.

Then he reached out and took her memorial.

Deep in his heart, he thought fiercely—

Meng Tinghui, today you willingly accept this non-existent crime to win the hearts of the Hanlin officials. Don’t regret losing his trust in the future.

As he opened the memorial, he said in a low voice: “Such a serious responsibility, how can you treat it so lightly? Half a year’s salary will be deducted, and from now on you are not allowed to stay overnight at the academy. If…” His gaze suddenly paused after scanning the memorial, his words halting briefly, his eyes glancing back at her before he continued: “If you make another mistake in the future, you will never be allowed to enter the Hanlin Academy again.”

Though his tone was stern and even, the two fingers holding the memorial were extremely tight.

She bowed deeply, touching her forehead to the ground, saying: “Thank you, Your Highness, for not demoting me. In the future, I will serve with all my heart in the Hanlin Academy and never dare to make even the slightest mistake again.”

He looked at the others behind her, resting his elbow on the table. The memorial between his fingers suddenly unfurled, the characters not small, large enough for everyone to see. Then with a flick of his wrist, the corner of the memorial touched the palace candle’s flame and suddenly caught fire.

She couldn’t hear him speak, so she remained prostrated there, her hands pressing against the broken porcelain on the ground, piercing her palms painfully.

Fang Huai suddenly stepped forward, bowing as he said: “Your Highness, forgive my frankness. Since entering the Hanlin Academy, Meng Tinghui has been diligent and conscientious in her duties. This incident of copying the wrong edict is merely an isolated case. If you punish her by forbidding her from staying overnight at the academy, I believe it is too severe.”

Upon hearing this, the others all chimed in with agreement.

She remained kneeling, motionless, her forehead to the ground, her expression hidden from view.

He watched as the memorial was completely consumed by fire, rubbed the ash from his fingertips, and surprisingly responded agreeably: “Then I’ll follow Scholar Fang’s suggestion and only deduct half a year’s salary.”

She immediately said: “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Her voice was soft and gentle, striking directly to his heart.

He stood up, his expression softening, and said to Fang Huai and the others: “As she said, I have indeed broken the rules by coming here tonight without prior permission.”

Everyone in the room insisted they wouldn’t dare say such a thing, bowing their heads as they respectfully saw him out.

Once he had left and was far out of sight, an elder official turned and helped her up from the ground, saying with concern: “The floor is icy cold and covered with broken porcelain. Kneeling for so long must have been uncomfortable.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

Fang Huai glanced at her, looking at her intently for a moment, then said: “You should go home and rest tonight. Come see me early tomorrow morning.”

She obediently agreed, gathered her belongings, put on a thick padded jacket, and left.

Outside, the biting wind was bone-chilling. The tea-soaked area beneath her official skirt instantly formed a thin layer of ice, hard and uncomfortable against her knees.

As soon as she exited the main gate of the Hanlin Academy and turned toward Imperial Street, after walking just a few steps, someone suddenly pulled her aside. Before she could react, her foot caught on something, and she abruptly fell into a man’s arms.