“Oh? Then why don’t you tell me — what exactly are your crimes?”

Hua Zhi kept her eyes meekly downcast. “If this commoner’s conduct has displeased Your Majesty, that is this commoner’s crime.”

“We can take our time getting to those crimes. What I’m curious about right now is where you learned all of this. Hua Yizheng certainly doesn’t know any of it.”

“The Hua Family once possessed the largest private library in the realm. From the moment I learned to read, I wandered freely among its shelves. Everything I know, I learned from books.”

The Emperor’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Do you resent me?”

“This commoner does not dare.”

“I want to hear the truth.”

Hua Zhi’s tone was even and unhurried. “Whether it be thunder or gentle rain, all things flow from the grace of the Emperor. My grandfather taught me this from childhood.”

“I’ve heard that you have made two trips to Yinshan Pass.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know your crime?”

Hua Zhi pressed her forehead to the floor once more. “This commoner knows her crime.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it.”

“If Your Majesty says this commoner has committed a crime, then this commoner has committed a crime.”

The Emperor’s smile disappeared. “You came here fully intending to court death, didn’t you?”

“Better a poor life than a fine death — this commoner would not dare entertain such thoughts.”

“I think you dare quite a great deal.” The Emperor rose to his feet, clasped his hands behind his back, and stepped around to stand before her. “What if I were to show you a way forward — one that might even spare the Hua Family some hardship and let them return to the capital sooner?”

“Please instruct this commoner.”

“Enter the palace as a consort.”

In the inner chamber, Shao Yao shot to her feet. This time, at least, she was smart enough not to make a sound — but the sheer fury on her face contorted her expression entirely.

Gu Yanxi’s face was a mask of impassivity, though storms were raging behind his eyes, a bitter wind having swept through more times than he could count.

Hua Zhi was silent for a moment. Just as the Emperor was expecting her to agree, he heard her say, “Does Your Majesty wish to hear the truth?”

“Of course.”

“If Your Majesty wants the truth, then I will speak it plainly. But before that, I ask Your Majesty to make me a promise.”

“Go on.”

“If anything in this commoner’s words or conduct is found wanting, please let Your Majesty’s punishment fall on this commoner alone, and not on the Hua Family.”

The Emperor paced a few circles and, finding himself tired of it, returned to his seat behind the imperial desk. He did genuinely want to hear the truth, and so he nodded. “I promise you.”

Hua Zhi sat up straight and lifted her head. Her gaze was no longer downcast. Her entire bearing transformed, entirely unlike how she had been before. “Your Majesty already knows about me and means you have already investigated — so my relationship with Yanxi cannot be hidden from you either. It has always been said that Your Majesty places greater trust in the Shizi than in any of the princes. Yet hearing what you have just said, I now feel the rumors are indeed not to be believed. If you truly held him in such esteem, how could you say such a thing? Are you aware — Yanxi regards you as a father?”

“Insolent!” The Emperor’s cheeks flushed, evidently stung to the quick.

Inside Hua Zhi, a fire was raging that threatened to consume her entirely. She ached for Yanxi — ached so deeply that she could have taken a chair to the Emperor’s head, branded herself with the crime of assaulting the sovereign, and still counted it worth it just to vent that injustice on Yanxi’s behalf. But she remembered that she could not drag the Hua Family into this mire. That crime carried the penalty of exterminating nine familial lines. And so she held herself back, and replied, “It was Your Majesty who said you wished to hear the truth. And this is the truth.”

The Emperor fixed her with a dark, brooding stare. “What if I were to grant you this — that if you agreed, the Hua Family could be restored to their former standing?”

“Your Majesty does not know the Hua Family well enough. The Hua Family is a household full of scholars, and scholars are nothing if not principled. If this commoner were to purchase her family’s safety through such means, Grandfather would sooner spend the rest of his life crouching at Yinshan Pass than ever return to the capital. Father would feel it was he who had brought harm upon this commoner, and would end his own life rather than accept such protection. This commoner is unwilling as well. If this commoner were to agree to this, it would be as though she had cast the Hua Family’s integrity — the dignity of every person in this family — upon the ground and trampled it into the dust. Your Majesty has the power to speak a single word and ensure the Hua Family never rises again. But this commoner cannot bear it. Cannot bear to watch the hands that hold writing brushes grow calloused with rough labor, and even more — cannot bear to destroy their spirits, and let them endure a catastrophe more devastating than exile.”

“And so you made trips to Yinshan Pass to send them money?”

“This commoner would respectfully ask Your Majesty — which provision of Great Qing’s laws forbids family and friends from calling upon their loved ones? The silver this commoner brought was honestly earned, not stolen. How could it be wrong to send it?”

Hua Zhi raised her head and met the Emperor’s gaze directly. Her eyes burned so brightly it seemed they could scorch whoever they fell upon. What was one life? She no longer cared for it.

“Yanxi reveres you as a father. He has run to every corner of the realm, sealing the cracks in Great Qing’s foundation, and in doing so he says that you are first the Emperor and then his uncle. But when you grant him a word of comfort or a little care, he says you are his uncle — the closest family he has. Everything he has had to give, he has given to you, to Great Qing. And what of you? You value his competence, value his loyalty, and you know full well he harbors no designs on your throne — so you work him without restraint, driving him like an ox and a horse, and call it high regard. I would ask Your Majesty — when those words left your lips, did your conscience not trouble you?”

“You speak out on his behalf?”

“Yes, on his behalf. Your Majesty has three thousand consorts filling the palace. And he — he has only one empty Shizi residence, the Seven Lodges Division with its endless, never-finished affairs — and then, he had me. He has only me.” Hua Zhi wore a smile on her face, but her eyes were ice-cold. “He does not know that the man he reveres — the man he regards as a father — even now intends to take the only thing he has. Your Majesty, you do not truly hold him in esteem. You must have some deep quarrel with him instead.”

The Emperor regarded her. “Did he tell you all of this?”

“Why would he need to? When a person has been lonely long enough, every part of them is saturated with that solitude.”

Hua Zhi’s knees ached with a piercing, gnawing pain, yet she remained kneeling, unbowed. Her back had not sagged an inch. She had defied an imperial decree already; her conduct here was brazen and reckless. Either way, she would not live through this — but if she could spend this life that was already forfeit to rouse even a flicker of guilt in the Emperor toward Yanxi, it need not be much. Just a little, and Yanxi’s life ahead might be somewhat easier.

There are people who, upon receiving much, come to believe it is simply their due — never realizing that nothing in this world is truly owed to them.

The Emperor said nothing more. He stared into the distance, his thoughts unreadable. A silence like death fell over the Imperial Study.

In the inner chamber, Gu Yanxi closed his eyes and was about to step forward — but Lai Fu gripped him with all his strength, shaking his head vigorously and mouthing: Wait a little longer.

Gu Yanxi looked at him. Lai Fu nodded emphatically. He had served the Emperor for decades. Though the Emperor had grown increasingly difficult to read these past nearly two years, there were still patterns to be found. He genuinely could not bring himself to believe the Emperor truly fancied Hua Zhi. It wasn’t that Hua Zhi was lacking — it was simply that ever since the incident with Consort Yi, the Emperor had rarely set foot in the rear palace. There was no reason to take a condemned official’s daughter as a consort. Word would spread, and it would not reflect well.

Besides, the Emperor did, genuinely, have some true feeling for the Shizi. Having investigated and learned that there were feelings between the two of them — whether or not he chose to sanction their relationship was one thing — but this was simply not something a person who valued someone would do. As the young miss had said, this wouldn’t be regard at all, but something closer to a grudge.

Gu Yanxi was barely persuaded by this, yet he did not retreat. He stood pressed against the door, ready to burst through at any moment and face whatever came alongside A’Zhi.

He was afraid. Afraid that if he lost control and rushed out he would bring harm upon A’Zhi. Afraid that this was the Emperor’s way of testing him. Afraid that no matter what he did, he would not be able to save A’Zhi. Afraid of…

Too many things. Too many things to count. Gu Yanxi thought to himself — if it truly came to the point where he could not save her, then they would simply go down that road together. That was all. There were worse fates.

Shao Yao came over and leaned against Yanxi’s arm, her expression possessing a serenity that had never been there before. Every person who mattered to her was in this very place. Whatever happened, she would be together with them — in whatever form that took.