Xiao Liu had barely left when Gu Yanxi walked in directly behind him. Hua Zhi teased, “My study really has been lively today.”

Gu Yanxi walked straight to her side. “The bitter-and-sweet candy?”

Hua Zhi nearly rolled her eyes. The more time she spent with him the more certain she was that this man was simply a great barrel of jealousy. She slid open the drawer to let him take one himself — but he did not move. Resigned to this increasingly indulgent man, she took a piece and fed it to him herself.

It was indeed a little bitter, which tempered the sweetness and made it quite tolerable even for Gu Yanxi, who normally had no taste for sweets.

“Xiao Liu…”

“I heard everything.” Gu Yanxi took her hand and applied a gentle, steady pressure as he massaged it. “You did the right thing. Imperial Princes are simply different from ordinary people — they enjoy great privilege, and yet some things are things they can never have from birth.”

Things like family affection, like friendship, like love — for them, these were nothing more than a fleeting excitement.

Rubbing the thin calluses on her fingertips, Gu Yanxi thought of those words of Hua Zhi’s: “Because sometimes, none of us have anyone to rely on — and there is no one to rely on.” How true that was. His mother had died in such a brutal way, leaving him in utter despair — yet even now, even after all that had happened, that father of his still lived freely and without consequence. When the Hua Family had fallen, everyone had been forced to stand by with folded arms for one reason or another. Hua Zhi had had no choice but to shoulder all of it herself. Whom could they rely on, if not themselves?

So Hua Zhi saw it clearly. Even as close as they had become, even with an Imperial Prince who held her in deep, child-like devotion, she had never thought of leaning on either of them. At most, she would factor them into her considerations as one element among many.

“I’ll send two people to watch over them in secret. You don’t need to worry about their safety.”

“I was going to ask to borrow someone from you even if you hadn’t offered.” Hua Zhi’s eyes curved with a smile. This was the kind of request she had no trouble making.

Gu Yanxi lightly caressed her cheek and drew her to her feet. “It’s time to eat.”

The following day, Gu Yanxi accompanied her to another estate. Looking at the rows of mushrooms growing abundantly, even in cellars that were not particularly pleasant-smelling, Gu Yanxi found it remarkably impressive. He had heard that in winter some people kept a heated room to grow a few vegetables, but cultivating mushrooms this way was something he was seeing for the first time.

Hua Zhi made no introduction of Gu Yanxi’s identity. The steward, Tang Yong, assumed he was a buyer there to purchase mushrooms and introduced everything with great attentiveness. “These are oyster mushrooms — they grow the fastest and have the best flavor. We have several other varieties here as well, just next door. Would you care to have a look?”

Hua Zhi turned away to hide a smile and said nothing to correct him.

Gu Yanxi caught her eye with a look of patient indulgence and went along to the next cellar.

The cellars were all connected, one leading into the next like rooms beneath the earth. After a full tour, Gu Yanxi understood the reason Hua Zhi had mentioned before for why this business brought in money quickly.

Mushrooms were not cheap among ingredients, and they were only available during a particular season. To sell them when no one else had any meant the price would naturally multiply. The profits of holding such an exclusive supply could be easily imagined.

They returned to the main hall and sat down. Hua Zhi dismissed Tang Yong. “The food establishment has been featuring a mushroom banquet for a while now and the response has been excellent. Naturally, selling at the same high price as the food establishment is impossible, but selling for more than usual is entirely feasible. Where are you planning to distribute?”

“There is no shortage of wealthy households in the capital, and food establishments are also a good outlet. I intend to enter this business under the Shizi’s name — in time, the Shizi Manor’s steward will come to handle the dealings.”

Hua Zhi weighed the advantages and disadvantages of the Hua Family being connected to the Shizi. “If the Emperor learns of it, would that be problematic?”

“The Emperor will find out sooner or later about your business dealings — that’s not a bad thing; there’s no need to conceal it.” Gu Yanxi turned the teacup in his hands. “Were it not for the fact that his energy has been declining and he has increasingly left matters to me, your existence would have been known to him long ago. By now it would be appropriate to let him know a little. He disciplined the Hua Family’s men — a woman distinguishing herself this way gives him nothing to fault.”

“You understand the nuances far better than I do. You decide.”

Gu Yanxi liked precisely this about her — her decisiveness. When something ought to be done, she simply did it; if consequences came, she would bear them.

“The mushroom cultivation will continue to expand. I intend to build out the estate as much as possible — not courtyard stacked upon courtyard, but a long stretch of connected rooms.” Hua Zhi lowered her head and took a sip of tea. “What I’m considering now is the best method for expansion. Ideally, it would be best to cultivate locally and sell locally — that saves on costs and ensures freshness. But doing it that way requires personnel and carries risks. It may be simpler to supply everything from the capital.”

Gu Yanxi considered it briefly and made the decision for her. “Local cultivation and local sales is more convenient. You provide the people, I’ll handle the arrangements — with the Shizi Manor taking the lead, fewer troublemakers are likely to interfere.”

Hua Zhi had no objection. “Giving a reasonable share of the profits to the local power-holders would also be wise.”

That was indeed the best approach. Gu Yanxi agreed with a nod.

Easy to say in a few words, hard to accomplish in practice. The first challenge was selecting the right people. To keep the cultivation method from leaking, at least five people would need to be dispatched to each location, with additional local hires for less important tasks. And personnel was precisely what the Hua Family was most short of right now — Hua Zhi had spread her endeavors so widely that the household was perpetually in need of more hands.

Those sent out would need to be household-born servants who had a true sense of belonging to the Hua Family and whose loyalty was certain — newly purchased staff would not do. She wasn’t sure how many the branch family could spare; if not enough, she could draw from the preserve workshop staff and send some of the more recently purchased servants there instead.

And these were matters she could not ask Yanxi for help with. The kind of love she believed in was not dependence — it was standing side by side.

Fortunately, none of this was urgently pressing. There was time enough to satisfy the capital’s needs before expanding outward.

The two of them did not linger long. Gu Yanxi saw Hua Zhi home and then returned to the palace.

The desk was piled with memorials. Gu Yanxi moved through them quickly, then took a few of the more important ones and headed to Haoyue Hall.

The Emperor was dressed in informal robes, looking over some document or other. His hair was half white, and his face had grown so gaunt it looked like a fruit shriveled of all its moisture — making him appear older than ever.

His stern expression softened visibly when he saw Gu Yanxi enter. “I’ve said before — you can simply approve them yourself; there’s no need to come to me for instructions. Or have I stopped trusting you?”

Gu Yanxi ignored this entirely, opened a memorial, and began reading aloud in the most concise manner possible. “Bingzhou — no rain for two months, the land cracked and dry, feared to be a total crop failure…”

The Emperor listened to one memorial after another with casual disinterest, occasionally responding with a word or two. Gu Yanxi would use those responses to determine which official to assign each matter to. If the Emperor raised no objection, the decision was settled. The two had been doing this for many days and had become quite efficient together.

Seeing that Gu Yanxi’s hands were at last empty of memorials, the Emperor complained, “Why bother bringing them to me at all? In the end, aren’t you the one handling everything?”

“It’s not the same.”

The Emperor liked precisely this quality in him. With everyone around him always changing, there was something precious about having one person who never changed. And so he only wanted to treat him better, hoping this person would remain unchanged forever.