The capital had been blessed with unbroken fine weather, and the faint first breath of early spring was slowly making itself felt.

The carriage swayed along on the road outside the city. Hua Zhi hooked the window curtain to one side and, taking in the clear skies, felt her mood lift with them.

When the weather turned a little warmer still, it would be the perfect season for an outing. In previous years, the Hua Family’s young men would escort the sisters and cousins out on a spring excursion. She herself had never taken part, of course, but even from a distance, the bright cheerfulness of their spirits was plain to see just by watching.

This year, it would not be possible.

“Huahua.” Shao Yao came galloping up on her horse, and even through the swaying curtains, her high spirits were palpable. “Come out and ride.”

“No, thank you. You’ve only just been let loose — go run wild to your heart’s content.” Hua Zhi leaned back languidly against the side of the carriage. That journey north had left her sore from riding, and she felt no particular eagerness for it now.

Watching Shao Yao wheel her horse away in delight, Hua Zhi recalled what Lord Lu had mentioned — that Shao Yao’s former ambition had been to become the first female general in the Great Qing dynasty. That aspiration, she thought, truly suited her. Even stripped of those memories, one’s fundamental nature remained unchanged.

Thinking of Lord Lu, her thoughts naturally wandered further. Today’s martial arts lesson at the household was being conducted by Preceptor Wang. She wondered how Lord Lu’s own affairs were progressing.

Along the ornately carved and lacquered palace corridors, palace maids and junior eunuchs moved back and forth, the Imperial Guards making their periodic rounds. Yet beyond the wind, the vast palace was wrapped in a silence that held no other sound.

The Emperor had just come out of the Hall of State Affairs when he stopped involuntarily and leaned against the railing to gaze into the distance. Even after a lifetime spent within these palace walls, he found today’s quiet strangely oppressive — it stirred in him an unease he could not name.

Could there be an assassin about?

The Emperor’s guard went up at once, and when he swept his gaze around, everyone and everything suddenly looked suspicious. Especially that little eunuch tiptoeing toward him at a run — surely he was the assassin.

He was about to call for someone when he heard Lai Fu at his side sharply reprimand the boy: “Why are you running? Have you forgotten all your manners, boy?”

The little eunuch immediately prostrated himself, forehead pressed to the ground, voice trembling: “The Chief of the Seven Lodges has urgent matters to report. In my alarm I forgot proper conduct. I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”

“Where is he?”

“Your Majesty, he is waiting outside the Imperial Study.”

The Emperor strode toward the Imperial Study. He knew that young man’s ways well — if it were not a matter of great urgency, he would never appear wearing the guise of the Seven Lodges Chief. He had several identities, each with free access to the palace to see the Emperor, but the Seven Lodges Chief drew too many watchful eyes and was the one he used least.

He walked quickly enough that he did not notice Lai Fu glancing back, his expression complicated — calculating — before signaling the others to follow first. Lai Fu then stepped up beside his newly adopted protégé and murmured low: “If this old self had not reacted swiftly, your head would already have rolled. In this palace, even if the fire reaches your very eyebrows, you keep your steps measured for me. One more incident like this, and you can go join your departed brothers down below.”

The junior eunuch knew exactly how close to the edge he had just come. He immediately paid his respects with a full kowtow.

Seeing that the reprimand had been taken to heart, Lai Fu felt somewhat appeased. He glanced up, saw that the Emperor had already turned the corner, and hurried after him — his mind working all the while. His Majesty’s paranoia grew heavier by the day, and his health was quietly deteriorating, yet just recently he had issued an order to expand the imperial harem, as though trying to prove something to someone. His excesses had only worsened of late. If this continued…

Thinking of the current state of the court, Lai Fu felt a chill pass through him. If His Majesty did not soon establish an heir, the court would descend into chaos. He had just saved someone else a moment ago — when that day truly came, who would be left to save him?

He slipped back unobtrusively into position at the Emperor’s side and looked toward the man who now stood outside the Imperial Study: the Chief of the Seven Lodges, dressed in a dark robe with its hidden pattern, face concealed behind the ceremonial mask. This attire had been fixed by the very first holder of the position and had not changed by a single detail across all the generations since.

When he had first laid eyes on the previous Chief of the Seven Lodges, Lai Fu had even worried privately — what if someone used the mask as a cover for an assassination attempt? But the very time someone had tried, the impostor was cut down before even coming close, and Lai Fu had understood then that his worry had been unnecessary. That mask was one of a kind in the world, and no craftsman, however skilled, could replicate it.

Because the mask was composed of countless visible and hidden threads woven into a single complete pattern. What that pattern was, only the Emperor of each generation and the Chief of the Seven Lodges had ever known.

Thinking of the man behind the mask and the regard with which the Emperor treated him, Lai Fu suddenly realized there was no need to look far. If he could earn the goodwill of this one person, it would not matter who eventually ascended the throne — none of them could touch him. And if this person were willing to speak a word in his defense, perhaps Lai Fu might even manage to reach a peaceful end after all.

With that thought, a fervent gleam lit Lai Fu’s eyes.

Gu Yanxi was far too perceptive a man. One glance in Lai Fu’s direction told him exactly what the eunuch was scheming. This one might actually come in useful.

The others were dismissed. Only Lai Fu was kept to attend inside. The Emperor looked toward his great-nephew — the one whose presence alone made him feel settled — and smiled. “By the look of you, what you’ve come to say today is bad news.”

Gu Yanxi removed the mask. His face held not even a trace of a smile — even the easy familiarity he usually showed this imperial uncle was gone. The Emperor’s heart sank steadily. He poured himself a cup of hot tea, warming his hands around it before speaking. “Tell me. I can bear it.”

To the Emperor’s surprise, Gu Yanxi knelt before him and spoke of something that seemed entirely unrelated: “Your subject respectfully requests that Your Majesty establish an heir to the throne.”

The Emperor looked at him steadily. “What have they done now?”

Gu Yanxi raised his head. “Every reckless move they make costs the enemy a thousand men and themselves eight hundred — but that thousand and eight hundred are all subjects of our Great Qing. What they are sacrificing is the interests of our Great Qing itself. Your Majesty, they are shaking the very foundations of this nation!”

Gu Yanxi passed a memorial to Lai Fu, who received it. The two exchanged a glance — not a single word, yet in that moment a tacit understanding passed between them.

“Get up, will you — does the Emperor not remember your leg was injured?” The Emperor gave him a reproachful look, then turned the memorial over in his hands with great reluctance to open it. If even Yanxi was willing to risk touching upon the Emperor’s most sensitive taboo in order to raise this matter, it spoke to how grave things had become.

And yet — there was no avoiding it. Others could turn away. As Emperor, he could not.

He opened the memorial. Reading through the itemized accounts within, he felt not the slightest surprise. For the sake of the throne, those sons of his were perfectly capable of raising armies to rebel against him and force him to his death.

“Where is the Sixth Prince now?”

“Your subject placed him with Shao Yao.”

The Emperor rubbed his temple. “I thought you would send him to the Sun Family.”

“Shao Yao is most suited.”

Was she not indeed, the Emperor thought, the thin curve of a sardonic smile crossing his lips. One was a royal kinswoman who had even abandoned her own name. The other was a prince who had been driven by his own brothers into a state of homelessness. Two such fringe figures keeping each other company — what could be more fitting?

“If Your Majesty finds this arrangement unsuitable, once his injuries have healed, your subject will return him to the palace.”

“Return him to what? To be used as a stepping stone by his brothers?” The Emperor shook his head. “Let him stay with Shao Yao. I owe it to Consort Zhen to make this much right by her.”