The moonlight fell cool as water. Shao Yao sat on the steps outside the imperial study, gnawing on strips of dried beef jerky that Fu Dong had pressed into her hands when she was called back from the manor.

She sighed quietly. She wondered if Huahua would send food to her every day. The palace kitchens were unbearable — she could not stomach a single bite.

At the sound of approaching footsteps she looked up and raised a hand in greeting.

“Where is Imperial Uncle?”

“I put him to sleep.”

“…” Gu Yanxi did not ask how. In matters like this, it was best left to Shao Yao. He sat down beside her, removed his mask and set it aside. The cool air that washed over him was a welcome relief.

“The tribunal has not been opened in quite a while.” Shao Yao tilted her head and caught the scent of blood on him — not heavy. It appeared Yanxi had not handled anything himself today.

Gu Yanxi glanced at the strip of jerky she was chewing. “How is it that none of these ended up in my meal box?”

“Fu Dong gave them to me when I was leaving the manor.” Shao Yao broke off two pieces and handed them over, feeling a pang of reluctance as she did. There were not many left. Huahua had said the Hua family was in mourning, and she would not be making these again until after the mourning period had passed.

Shao Yao’s eyes moved thoughtfully, and she nudged the person beside her with her shoulder. “Hey, Yanxi — the beef jerky’s good, isn’t it.”

“Say what you want to say.”

“Hehe — it’s just that Huahua has to observe mourning, and I was thinking — if I went to her and asked her to teach me to make it myself, do you think she’d agree?”

Gu Yanxi was a little tempted himself. If it were possible, he had half a mind to make dried beef jerky a standard ration for Seven Lodges Bureau operatives heading out in the field. It took up little space, staved off hunger, and — in the event someone fell into the water — could be fished out and still eaten. Far superior to other travel provisions.

“You only need to borrow Fu Dong.”

“Even that requires Huahua to agree. Those maids of hers are all wonderfully sensible.”

The Hua household’s maidservants were indeed a rare breed. As for observing mourning — there were masters who observed it genuinely and others who could not keep to it, and servants were no different, often stealing away to prepare a secret meal of meat behind closed doors. But both master and servant maintaining the fast this strictly — only the Hua family could manage that. The only meat to be found anywhere in the entire household was eggs, and those were reserved for the children.

Gu Yanxi gave a small nod. But he also knew well enough that if Shao Yao brought up this request, A’Zhi would certainly say yes. At most, the location would have to be somewhere other than the Hua household. He would discuss it with A’Zhi later — perhaps Fu Dong could teach the method to someone in his own residence, so that he would not need to trouble the Hua household’s people indefinitely.

He was equally certain A’Zhi would agree to this too. That person had given away the ice-making trade — a genuinely lucrative enterprise — without so much as a moment’s hesitation. She would hardly begrudge something as trifling as this. What she placed value in, he understood, was every person who harbored goodwill toward her. It could be family. It could be a friend. It could even be a stranger.

Shao Yao chewed her jerky with contentment and idly picked up one of the memorials lying nearby, glanced through it, and clicked her tongue. “These charges are rather perfunctory, aren’t they.”

Gu Yanxi tilted his head back and looked up at the bright moon high above. With that mountain of evidence laid out plainly, there was hardly any need to enumerate charges at length. Three lashes would have been more than generous.

“Why didn’t you deal with the Yu family at the same time?”

“Imperial Uncle’s anger needs someone to bear it.”

Shao Yao looked at him. “The women of the Yu family…”

“No one will protect them.” There was no reason to, and no way to. It was not the same as the Hua family. Setting aside the fact that the Hua family and the Empress Dowager went back a long way — even without that connection, the Hua family had simply been caught in the crossfire of someone else’s grievances. The charges against them were incomparable in nature to those against the Yu family.

“Better to go all at once than to linger on in misery — at least they’d have company on the road,” Shao Yao said, resting her chin on her knees and turning her face toward Yanxi. She shifted imperceptibly closer to him. “It’s not as though every family has a Hua Zhi.”

On a cold night like this, having someone nearby who made her feel safe — it really was something.

The sky had not yet brightened when the Emperor stirred and opened his eyes, brow furrowed. Shao Yao was slumped over the edge of the bed, asleep. Draped over her was a black outer robe — one glance told him whose it was.

He shifted upright slightly, and the figure seated to one side rose and came forward, offering him a cup of warm tea.

The Emperor smiled and accepted it, taking a few slow sips. “Why haven’t you gone to rest?” he asked quietly. “I’m not going to die any time soon.”

Gu Yanxi shook his head and settled back into his seat in silence, his gaze resting on the sleeping Shao Yao.

The Emperor followed his line of sight, and the expression in his own eyes softened. Like Yanxi, she did not drop to her knees at the sight of him. She showed little of the reverence that might be expected. Sometimes when she spoke, she was almost blunt. And yet the gaze with which both of them looked at him held nothing in the way of wanting.

They sought nothing from him. The Emperor lowered his head with a quiet laugh. How curious — even within the imperial family, there were still people like these two. And somehow, both of them had come to belong to his household.

Uncle and nephew sat together without a word between them, until at last the sky began to lighten.

Shao Yao woke, rubbed her eyes, and reached immediately to take the Emperor’s pulse. A moment passed. She looked up at him, then turned to glance at Gu Yanxi. “Yanxi — I’m hungry.”

“…”

The morning meal was laid out in the Emperor’s Haoxin Hall. The Emperor ate only a few bites before setting down his chopsticks. “Yanxi — will you accompany me to court today?”

Gu Yanxi intended to, naturally. He gave Lai Fu a slight nod of acknowledgment. Lai Fu swallowed quietly and brought several memorials to the Emperor.

The Emperor kept his eyes lowered for quite some time before finally lifting the first one and opening it. His expression remained calm throughout — until he reached the final memorial. When he read what was written there, his lips began to tremble. His hands shook involuntarily.

This was his eldest son. The son he had once poured immeasurable effort into cultivating as his heir.

Even when it had become clear the boy lacked sufficient ability, he had still hoped — hoped that with the Third Prince’s rivalry to sharpen him, the eldest would yet find the will to better himself. But the outcome was this devastating.

He had been wrong. The moment he first recognized that his eldest son could not serve as heir, he should have let go without hesitation — and turned his attention to one of his other sons. The Second or Third would both have done, with some tempering.

But he was his eldest son. The one he had held in his arms the day he entered the world, when his own heart had soared with a joy he could still remember clearly — the satisfaction of holding that small hand in his and guiding it through its very first written character. That feeling, he had discovered, was one that no amount of becoming a father again had ever quite replicated.

The Emperor closed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “Accompany us to court.”

“Yes.”

Both men rose. The Emperor caught Shao Yao’s upturned gaze and said in a gentle tone, “Finish your meal. Rest well afterward.”

Shao Yao had half a mind to go out of the palace for a bit, but given how troubled these times were, she pressed the thought down and nodded like an obedient child.

It was destined to be a day without quiet.

When Lai Fu’s sharp voice finished reading aloud each verdict in turn, the court fell into complete silence. Thirty-two individuals sentenced to immediate beheading. Consort Rong stripped of her rank. The First Prince stripped of all status and placed under permanent confinement. And all of it had been carried out by the Seven Lodges Bureau alone.

The authority of the Seven Lodges Bureau had reached this extent?!

It came back to them all at once — the Seven Lodges Bureau had always held authority of this magnitude. It was only that the current head of the Bureau had never made such a sweeping move in all his years of office, and they had simply forgotten.

Under these circumstances, not a single person was foolish enough to speak up in defense of a kinsman or old acquaintance. Throughout every dynasty, two charges were absolutely untouchable: treason and regicide. Anyone whose name was linked to either had no recourse whatsoever. Every man in that hall counted himself fortunate not to have been implicated.

The Emperor’s lips curved at the corner, and every trace of warmth left his expression. “The Yu household — two hundred and forty-seven persons in total — to be executed. Their remains are to be cast into the mass graves to feed the dogs.”

The assembled ministers prostrated themselves without daring to stir. The palms of their hands were cold with sweat.

“Fu Gang.”

“Your servant is here.”

“Proceed at once to the First Prince’s residence. Apprehend all officials and advisors associated with him, and deliver them to the Seven Lodges Bureau tribunal.” The Emperor laughed coldly. “We wish to know just how badly he wanted us to vacate our seat for him.”

Chen Feng and Gu Yanxi both received the order.

The Emperor’s hands trembled slightly, and his mood grew increasingly agitated. After what had unfolded yesterday, he already knew this was an aftereffect of the golden elixir pills. He rose at once, his wide sleeves sweeping outward. “Court is dismissed.”

Author’s note: Thank you, dear readers, for your patience and understanding — truly moved to tears over here. And yes — this novel has male readers too, so I’ll need to start acknowledging the gentlemen among you from now on.