Yu Gengqing was away, his elder brother still in the northwest, and with no family elders in Wusei’er, the household was left under Yu Linlang’s authority. This was why Yun Ya had impersonated Yu Linlang. Otherwise, even if he had a face identical to Yu Linlang’s, his habits and mannerisms would differ from the original, inevitably exposing flaws during extended interactions with relatives. Moreover, Yu Linlang indeed possessed exceptional painting skills, making it a convenient excuse to approach the Queen.

After dinner, he retreated to the study following the habits of the genuine Yu Linlang.

However, being in unfamiliar territory and impersonating an official’s child, he naturally remained vigilant about external movements. His divine consciousness expanded outward, monitoring every movement within the mansion.

A cultivator’s senses were too keen, especially at his level of cultivation. Every second, thousands of sounds entered his ears, requiring considerable effort to distinguish.

Shortly after nightfall, he heard idle chatter from the rear kitchen, less than twenty zhang away from the study.

It was a conversation between a maidservant and two young manservants.

The maidservant cracked melon seeds while speaking: “Third Young Master has stayed shut in his study since returning to the mansion these past few days.”

A manservant replied: “Third Young Master is painting a portrait for Her Majesty, naturally he must focus completely and cannot afford any mistakes, right?”

“That’s true, but he hasn’t even asked about Mo Che,” said the maidservant. “In the past, he was inseparable from Mo Che. When the master wanted to kill Mo Che, the Third Young Master desperately blocked him, even threatening his own life. Yet after being separated from Mo Che for just a few days, he hasn’t mentioned him once.”

The manservant said: “Third Young Master will eventually take a wife and have children. Mo Che cannot follow him for life. If Mo Che is smart, he should leave on his own. Perhaps the master might spare his life then.”

Another person added: “The master said he would return his contract and give him a hundred taels of silver, but Mo Che still refused to leave. I heard from the stableman that now he’s been beaten half to death and thrown in that farmstead. The master ordered that no medicine be given to him. Even if he survives, he’ll be crippled afterward. Heh, would the young master still want a cripple?”

Just as the words fell, the kitchen door creaked open.

The three turned around to see Third Young Master standing behind them, expressionless: “Where is Mo Che?”

The next day, at a suburban farmstead.

The locked feed storage room was opened. Yun Ya stood at the entrance, seeing a blood-covered figure curled up in the dark corner.

The person was lying on a pile of fodder. Hearing the sound, he raised his head—a remarkably beautiful youth with fine eyebrows and long eyes, about fourteen or fifteen years old.

Seeing the visitor, his face filled with joy. He struggled to stand but couldn’t, only softly uttering: “Linlang!”

This sound was like a small beast’s whimper.

In the blink of an eye, tears welled up in his eyes, a pitiful sight.

Yun Ya felt a vein throb on his forehead, then smiled: “Very good. It seems you can still save your beloved’s life.”

Not until the court session the next day did Feng Miaojun see Fu Lingchuan. His face was frost-like, with bloodshot eyes, appearing irritable even while handling state affairs. A low pressure permeated the royal court, and even Red General, who typically lacked perception, didn’t want to provoke his ill temper.

Feng Miaojun understood that the palace attendants must have reported her scandalous behavior at Flying Waterfall Villa to Fu Lingchuan. She admired how he could still conduct business properly despite being filled with anger, keeping state affairs in order as always.

Truly a man who separated public and private matters with good self-restraint. Feng Miaojun almost felt reluctant to confront him.

Unfortunately, she had to provoke him to lose composure. So she raised her voice: “The State Preceptor seems unsettled. Did you not sleep well last night?”

He turned toward her, his gaze fixed intensely on her. Feng Miaojun couldn’t discern the complex emotions within: “Thank you for Your Majesty’s concern. It’s nothing.”

She displayed a caring smile: “State affairs are burdensome. The State Preceptor has personally managed governance for over a year now, working too hard. Perhaps you should take a good rest for some time. The court officials can handle state affairs; the State Preceptor need not worry.”

Doesn’t she realize for whom he’s doing all this? A surge of anger rose to Fu Lingchuan’s throat, but he forcibly swallowed it back.

She was deliberate, deliberately trying to provoke his anger, deliberately trying to draw him into an argument with her at court.

“Unnecessary!” he flatly refused. “Being able to serve New Xia wholeheartedly and lighten Your Majesty’s burden is my duty!”

Her smile remained warm, displaying eight small white teeth that appeared particularly irritating to Fu Lingchuan: “Then the State Preceptor must take care of his health.”

“Your Majesty as well.” These few words were spoken through gritted teeth.

For the next two days, Feng Miaojun indeed remained vigilant. Fu Lingchuan could not confront her openly if he wanted to deal with her.

In fact, after the unification, the conflict between her and Fu Lingchuan deepened day by day. She wanted to be a Queen in name and reality, truly controlling her fate and country. Fu Lingchuan was the massive boulder blocking her path that had to be removed.

But in dealing with Fu Lingchuan, even with Yun Ya’s help, she couldn’t act directly either.

Fu Lingchuan was no villain. He was loyal and protective toward New Xia, still tirelessly managing the royal court. Feng Miaojun had never seen anyone work as diligently as him.

Moreover, his contributions to the continuation of An Xia and the establishment of New Xia were immense. He had numerous supporters both in court and among the common people, die-hard fans even. To bring him down, she needed a reason so appropriate that no one could refute; otherwise, even if successful, the people of New Xia would consider her ungrateful and treacherous, no different from the current King Xi.

Once the people’s hearts were lost, regaining them would be difficult.

After all, Fu Lingchuan had worked tirelessly for many years to establish New Xia, pouring his heart and soul into it. It could be said that without him, there would be no present-day Kingdom of New Xia.

But Fu Lingchuan had no handles or dark history for people to criticize, so Feng Miaojun’s ideal strategy was to provoke him into making the first move.

This meant using herself as bait, so she had to be extremely careful.

Returning to her residence hall, the sky had already turned amber. Fu Lingchuan stopped for a while in front of a man-made hill three men tall as he passed through the garden.

No one dared disturb him.

After he left, this artificial hill, which had been salvaged from the river and had withstood the river’s erosion for centuries, suddenly cracked with a “ka-la” sound, shattering into countless small pieces.

Destroying a rockery did not quell Fu Lingchuan’s anger.

That night, the State Preceptor consumed several times more tea than usual.

Not until the moon reached its zenith did someone gently knock on the study door. The visitor was Wang Qian, Fu Lingchuan’s trusted confidant.

“Why is my lord so troubled?” he asked softly. “Is it because the Queen wishes to establish a harem?”

“She humiliates me in this way, and even wants to go further, letting everyone know she stands as my equal! That will cause more people to oppose me.”

Changle was using her lifelong personal affairs to contend with him. Back on Spiral Float Island, he never imagined she would set such a simple condition that would tie his hands and restrict his movements.