Everyone was startled by the voice. One of them turned around quickly, and upon seeing the person at the door, immediately became so flustered that he could barely hold his brush steady.

“Your Highness,” they said in unison, straightening their postures, lowering their heads, and drawing in their sleeves respectfully.

Meng Tinghui continued gathering her things without pausing, her eyes lifting slightly to look over at him. Her gaze lingered momentarily on his face—one she had never seen smile since her entry into court—before she asked, “What matter brings Your Highness to seek this official?”

Just moments ago, she and the others had been discussing matters of the Inner Court, so absorbed that they hadn’t noticed his arrival, nor did they know how long he had been standing there or how much of their conversation he had overheard.

Seeing their terrified expressions upon noticing him, she suddenly felt like laughing.

Having spent considerable time in the Hanlin Academy, she knew that officials of that “prestigious institution” feared no high ministers or nobles of the court. Even that night when he had stormed in furiously to demand answers, none of the academy officials had shown any fear.

She hadn’t expected that here in the territory of the Central Secretariat and Chancellery, his authority seemed to have multiplied several times over. Just by looking at these officials’ expressions, she could imagine how he typically conducted affairs within the Inner Court.

Her unperturbed demeanor thus caused those beside her to stare in surprise.

Ying Gua merely gazed at her coolly, his voice remaining as cold as ever: “Come with me to the Inner Court. You may leave at sunset.” After speaking, he turned and walked away, disappearing from their view.

She lowered her eyes, unconsciously halting her movements.

She hadn’t expected to be summoned to the Inner Court on her very first day at the Chancellery. Although she knew that the position of Left Remonstrator was low in rank but carried significant weight in speech, this sudden favor was still something she couldn’t immediately adjust to.

Moreover, if he simply wanted to summon her to the Inner Court, he could have easily sent a Yellow-Robed Clerk to convey the message. Why did he need to come personally?

Despite her doubts, she dared not delay. She quickly put her things in order, adjusted her official robes, and was about to leave when she looked up to find several colleagues watching her silently.

Their gazes contained three parts surprise, three parts disbelief, three parts jealousy, and the remaining part a vague sense of respect.

She curved her lips in a smile, returned their silent gaze, and then quickly walked out.

Being recommended by two Grand Scholars from the Hanlin Academy and receiving special favor from the Crown Prince, her appointment to three positions in the Chancellery was something few would willingly accept. Yet now he had personally come to summon her to the Inner Court—what an enormous honor and sign of favor! After witnessing this, surely no one in the Remonstrance Bureau would dare disrespect her.

The glazed tiles at the corner of the corridor shimmered in five-colored brilliance, casting a thin layer of radiance on his shoulders. Standing under the eaves, he resembled a solitary pine on a cliff edge—so tall and imposing that one could hardly look at him directly.

Knowing he was waiting for her, she approached with measured steps, hands lowered.

Her heart stirred unexpectedly, with small waves of emotion leaping in her chest, causing her to tremble slightly and breathe faster.

She wanted to ask why he had come personally, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to voice the question.

Seeing her approach, he said nothing more, simply leading her westward.

Along the way, columns stood in a scattered formation, and fine snow reflected the vermilion buildings. Occasionally, birds would fly past with fluttering wings, the sound only emphasizing the silence between them.

Finally, she spoke: “Where was Your Highness coming from?”

During her earlier casual conversation with the others, she hadn’t heard that he was in the Inner Court. It seemed that when Prince Ping was berating the senior officials, he wasn’t present. She wondered if he had heard about this matter by now.

He replied: “The Privy Council.”

His answer was concise, his pace unwavering, his tone as cool as ever.

She acknowledged with a slight sound, unable to discern whether he was angry or not. Even ordinary people would be annoyed to hear others discussing their marriage behind their backs, let alone the Crown Prince who stood second only to one person above ten thousand others. How could he truly not be upset?

Yet his current demeanor suggested that what those people had discussed had nothing to do with him.

She asked again: “This official has just entered the Chancellery today, barely establishing myself before being taken by Your Highness to attend the Inner Court. Is Your Highness’s consideration perhaps inappropriate…?”

He slowed his step and stopped, turning his head to look down at her, his gaze penetrating her eyes. “Is there anything that you, Meng Tinghui, fear?”

Though his tone was flat, his words sent a chill down her spine.

Only then did she realize that he had indeed heard everything, and he was harboring anger at what she had said.

She lowered her head. “This official spoke improperly about Prince Ping and Your Highness. This official is guilty…”

He interrupted her: “You are not guilty.” Then he continued walking.

She wisely fell silent but grew increasingly unable to understand him, not knowing what his changing attitudes meant. Finally, she asked directly: “The entire court is in disarray discussing the matter of the Crown Princess, yet no one has heard Your Highness’s wishes… Does Your Highness wish to marry the North Jian Princess as Crown Princess?”

He continued walking without speaking, his gaze fixed on the distant palace walls.

She thought for a moment, suddenly remembering that he said he had just come from the Privy Council. A flash of insight crossed her mind, and after a moment she sighed slightly. “This official’s question was unnecessary. Your Highness has great ambitions—how could you allow a mere North Jian Princess to obstruct your grand plans?”

He abruptly spoke: “You are being impertinent.”

She fell silent.

Yes, it was impertinent, but when had she ever not been bold? He knew her audacity well, yet he tolerated her time after time, even showing her increasing favor—what exactly was this all for?

The two walked in silence the rest of the way. Only when they reached the wide brick corridor on the north side of the Inner Court did she speak again: “Actually, for Your Highness, as long as it’s not a lady from the North Jian royal clan, it doesn’t matter who becomes Crown Princess, does it?”

Walking half a step ahead of her, his figure suddenly stiffened at these words. But he neither turned around nor spoke, instead striding directly through the doors of the Inner Court.

Inside, the place was filled with the sight of purple robes and golden belts. White paper documents and red and black ink were scattered across tall desks. The noise of voices discussing endlessly indicated that the chaos had not yet subsided.

She followed him in, but seemed invisible—no one in the room appeared to notice her, all eyes focused solely on him.

He took his seat at the desk, leaned back slightly, and swept his gaze over those on duty in the Inner Court today, casually opening the documents on the desk.

There was some movement in the eastern corner, and soon Minister Gu approached with a memorial, presenting it: “Your Highness.”

He accepted it, opened it to look through it, and then gazed at the group behind Minister Gu, remaining seated in silence.

Minister Gu said: “This is the joint memorial from us officials requesting to reject the North Jian envoy’s proposal. If Your Highness has no objections, please affix the seal to finalize it.”

Ying Gua tossed the memorial onto the desk. “This morning I heard that Minister Gu led a group of senior officials to urge His Majesty in Jingde Hall to accept North Jian’s proposal. How has your stance changed so suddenly?”

Minister Gu lowered his head. “After much discussion with several Participants in Determining Governmental Matters, we believe…”

Ying Gua rudely interrupted: “It’s because my Royal Father visited.”

The faces of several senior officials changed, but none spoke to contradict him.

He continued: “If I were to say that I want to accept the North Jian envoy’s proposal, what would you all do then?”

Everyone in the room was simultaneously stunned by these words.

Standing in the corner, she felt her eardrums vibrating, hardly believing what she had heard.

Minister Gu’s expression turned unpleasant. After carefully choosing his words, he said: “We hope Your Highness will reconsider.”

His face immediately darkened. “My Royal Father’s prestige has remained undiminished for many years. Does Minister Gu still fear his words even now?”

Minister Gu stood silently.

With her keen mind, she understood what was angering him—though he had been in charge of the Policy-Making Court for over ten years when important matters arose, these senior officials of the Eastern Faction still only saw Prince Ping, not him, the Crown Prince.

Thinking back to the previous matter of Qingzhou, if not for these Eastern Faction officials’ insistence on protection, how could Wang Qi have avoided dismissal and thorough investigation?

Someone stepped forward from the side: “We officials have discussed and proposed requesting an imperial decree to name Grand Tutor Shen’s daughter, Shen Zhili, as Crown Princess. This would provide a good reason to refuse the North Jian envoy’s request…”

Ying Gua coldly looked over, remained silent for a long while, then suddenly raised his hand and smashed the official seal from the desk, unleashing his anger: “Today I will let you all know that Prince Ping is not the only one who dares to smash seals and break inkstones before your eyes.”