Gu Yanxi’s two decrees had shaken everyone into stunned submission, and before anyone could find their footing, he swiftly followed with a sweeping series of official appointments. Some of the names he announced sounded entirely unfamiliar even to the assembled civil and military officials — and then, without giving anyone a chance to speak, he declared the court session closed.

The vast Hall of Deliberation fell into dead silence.

They had known that thirty-two vacancies had opened up, and they had racked their brains pondering candidates — some had even quietly met and struck private deals. And the result? They had not even been given a chance to propose anyone. The appointments had simply been decided on the spot!

Who in the world was this Cheng Yi character? Nobody had ever even heard of him — where on earth had he been dug up?

Both the Second and Third Imperial Princes had already taken their places at court, and now each found himself surrounded by a press of officials. The crowd around the Third Prince was noticeably larger.

The ministers had not come at this moment to declare their allegiances — they had come for information.

In reality, however, both princes had been far more shaken than anyone else. They had been witnesses at yesterday’s punishment session, and that night they had dreamed of being flogged with a whip. Now, even the sight of a whip left them with a lingering dread.

Yet no matter how churned up they felt inside, both men were at this moment smiling as radiantly as the spring sun, pulling out every last ounce of charm — performing for the ministers who had already sided with them, and performing for those who had not yet chosen a camp. The eldest had fallen from his position as firstborn; their chances had grown all the greater.

Even the habitually restrained Second Prince could not quite suppress his excitement, and the glance he cast toward the Third Prince carried a hint of something ambiguous.

The Third Prince sneered inwardly. Hide it as cleverly as you like — the moment it matters, does it not all come out? The eldest could at least put up a proper fight. But him? Did he really think himself worthy?

A cluster of senior ministers stood to one side, exchanging glances and shaking their heads. They had noticed something amiss with the Emperor yesterday — and to think it had come to the point of the Seven Lodges Division leader stepping in as regent. Turbulent times ahead.

Gu Yanxi went to the Imperial Study, and before long, another succession of decrees came flowing out from within.

Laifu brought up the day’s memorial tablets. Gu Yanxi picked out a few, flipped through them, and his eyes filled with displeasure. “Day after day, nothing but this kind of drivel? If even these minor affairs require the Emperor to decide, what is the point of having them? If they cannot handle this, replace them with people who can.”

Laifu was already bowing deeply, about to carry the memorials away. Gu Yanxi held them in place and, without looking up, instructed, “Go and have the Fourth Lodge send me all reports from the past five days — no, the past ten days.”

One of the First Lodge’s members appeared, bowed to Gu Yanxi, and vanished at once.

During the wait, Gu Yanxi read through all the memorials at a glance. The Fourth Lodge’s chief arrived just as he finished, presenting four bound volumes with both hands.

The Fourth Division’s intelligence was organized into four categories: civilian affairs, officials, movements of neighboring states, and internal developments. Gu Yanxi leafed through several pages of each volume, and for a time he could not decide whether sorrow or relief weighed heavier in his heart.

Had A’Zhi not provoked him with her words, had she not awakened him and prompted him to accept his Imperial Uncle’s arrangement — he would never have seen these memorials, never would have known that intelligence received by the Seven Lodges Division ten days ago had still not been reported by any official at court.

He no longer wished to consider whether they had been ignorant of it or had deliberately concealed it. The Emperor’s eyes had been covered, his ears stopped. Had Gu Yanxi not learned today that his Imperial Uncle had been surrounded and pressured by the court officials, he would have assumed that all the intelligence the Seven Lodges Division had submitted in the past had reached the Emperor’s knowledge.

But if the Emperor had known about the officials’ deliberate concealment — then why had he never changed that state of affairs?

Gu Yanxi rubbed his fingers together, glanced at Laifu beside him, and turned to the civilian affairs volume, opening it to a particular page before handing it over. “Read this.”

Laifu accepted it with both hands. His hands trembled as he read what was recorded there. He checked the date, recalled what had happened in court that day, and shook his head as he reported, “This servant recalls that this matter was never raised in court.”

“The Seven Lodges Division submits intelligence once daily. In the event of anything urgent, it is sent the moment it is received.”

“Yes, that is indeed the practice.” Laifu pressed his lips together and said with some difficulty, “It is only that in recent days, the Emperor has… rested rather more than usual.”

Having read the Emperor’s daily records, Gu Yanxi naturally understood the reason. When all was said and done, the source of it all came back to those elixirs.

Gu Chengde! Even if Gu Cheng’an does not kill you, I will!

Gu Yanxi was both shaken and furious. He gave his command in a cold voice: “Notify the assembled ministers — a court session will be convened in half an hour.”

Laifu acknowledged the order and withdrew. Stepping out of the Imperial Study, he spotted Miss Shao Yao running toward him with an enormous bundle in her arms, and quickly bowed to her.

Shao Yao waved him off and ran into the Imperial Study. She tossed her veil hat aside, held up the bundle, and grinned with delight. “Huahua had someone send this.”

Gu Yanxi’s entire chest of anger was extinguished in an instant at the sound of that name, and his whole bearing softened.

Shao Yao stepped forward and was about to sweep the memorials off the writing desk to make room for the food box. Gu Yanxi caught her by the arm and carried the food box to the resting area behind.

As always, two food boxes with separate dishes tailored to their respective tastes — though Fu Dong had always had a soft spot for Shao Yao, and had slipped an extra portion of pastries into hers.

Shao Yao was so pleased her grin stretched to her ears. She even flaunted it by waving it under Gu Yanxi’s nose.

Gu Yanxi did not usually care for pastries cloyingly sweet — even the most exquisitely crafted palace confections, he would only eat one in his grandmother’s company. But with the Hua Family’s pastries, he had never once turned them down. His chopsticks moved without hesitation, plucking one from the box and bringing it to his mouth.

“Yanxi!” Shao Yao hugged her pastries and shrank back, regretting with every fiber of her being the showing-off hand she had just extended.

Gu Yanxi paid her no mind. Seeing that the food box contained all his favorite dishes, his mood immediately lifted. He knew, of course, that it was Fu Dong who had prepared it and Fu Dong who had arranged the dishes — but that did nothing to stop him from mentally crediting every bit of this kindness to A’Zhi.

Even with a room full of troublesome people to face in half an hour, it could not touch his good mood at this moment.

“Where is the person who delivered the food?”

“I asked — apparently they are in no hurry to leave.” Shao Yao looked up. “Does Huahua know something?”

“She does.”

“She truly knows?” Shao Yao looked surprised, then nodded. “Right, there is nothing Huahua does not know. Yanxi—”

Gu Yanxi looked up. “Would the Emperor know that we are acquainted with Huahua?”

“He would not.”

“I am a little worried.” Shao Yao poked at her rice. “Huahua works so hard to do things for the Hua Family’s sake. I worry that…”

“He would not.”

“Yanxi…”

“I said he would not, so he will not.”

Shao Yao nodded. Her trust in Yanxi came from the very marrow of her bones — if Yanxi said he would not, then he would not.

“Find something to give her for self-protection.”

Shao Yao was on her feet at once. “Someone is trying to move against Huahua? Who? Did you not already arrange people to guard her?”

“Just in case.” The Emperor might not know — but those princes might not be entirely ignorant. Even if they kept their heads down for a time while things settled, once matters calmed they would certainly try to find a weakness of his to exploit. And his vulnerability right now was A’Zhi.

He had made every preparation he could, yet still feared the one thing that might slip through the cracks. What Shao Yao would provide was precisely a safeguard against that slim chance.