Thunder and rain are both acts of kindness (Part Two)

Along the palace path, the wind swirled withered leaves, brushing against the blue bricks and making a soft, rustling sound.

The eunuch in front of her didn't take big steps, blocking most of the cold wind.

Zhiwei had walked this road many times, so it wasn't unfamiliar to her, but this was the first time she felt an overwhelming sense of desolation.

Zhiwei followed Pinghai to the corridor and saw a group of people passing by in the distance. The leader was wearing a dark red brocade robe, with a small fan at his waist and a hollowed-out silver mask covering his face above the bridge of his nose.

The moonlight fell on the mask, giving it a cold, hard sheen.

"Who is that?" Zhiwei paused slightly, her gaze involuntarily following the figure.

Pinghai followed her gaze and explained in a low voice, "It is Lord Wang Miaoxiao, the third-rank commander newly promoted by His Majesty. In the Siam-Ying rebellion case, he was the first to send back urgent news from the border, making great contributions. His Majesty values ​​him highly."

Zhiwei had been staying home these past few days and knew very little about the outside world. Although she only caught a fleeting glimpse of that figure, it inexplicably seemed familiar, as if she had seen it somewhere before.

But she couldn't remember who it was for the time being, so she gave up and continued to follow Pinghai.

——

Inside the Hall of Mental Cultivation, candlelight flickered as Zhu Liji sat at his desk, head bowed, reviewing memorials with a focused and stern expression.

Zhiwei knelt down and bowed, her voice clear and respectful: "Greetings, Your Majesty."

Zhu Liji ignored her worship and remained immersed in his own world, his pen constantly dancing across the memorial, leaving behind powerful and vigorous characters.

Zhiwei had been kneeling for a long time, and her legs gradually went numb. She couldn't help but move slightly. This slight sound seemed to startle the person in front of her. Zhu Liji finally raised his eyes and coldly swept his gaze over Zhiwei: "You have quite the patience."

Zhiwei lowered her head and didn't reply.

"Come here." Zhu Liji's voice was flat.

Zhiwei got up as instructed, and just as she approached the desk, her wrist was suddenly grabbed. The next second, Zhu Liji's hand gripped her chin, the force not light, forcing her to raise her head.

Zhu Liji's gaze lingered on her face, from her thin cheeks to the dark circles under her eyes, before he finally spoke softly after a long while: "You do know how to take care of yourself; you haven't worn yourself out yet."

This is clearly sarcasm.

Zhiwei pursed her lips, avoiding his gaze: "Your Majesty summoned me here because you have important matters to instruct me on?"

Zhu Liji loosened his grip, his knuckles lightly tapping the table.

"Zhu Mingyu is dead." He stated this cold fact, his tone as flat as if he were discussing the weather. "What are your plans?"

Originally, she was annoyed by her own slacking off these past few days and wanted to give her a good talking-to. Indeed, she had wasted so much time, so Zhu Liji deserved any criticism or encouragement.

Zhiwei raised her eyes and gave her answer: "I will return to the Imperial Kitchen tomorrow."

Upon hearing this, Zhu Liji's lips curled into a mocking smile.

“Go back to your post.” Zhu Liji scoffed. “The meager salary you’ll get from that will probably be more than enough.”

He leaned forward, his breath almost hitting Zhiwei's face: "You used to live a life of luxury thanks to Mingyu, but now that you've fallen from grace, you probably can't even swallow a simple meal, right?"

"Not going to find a backer to flatter and curry favor with?" Zhu Liji glanced at Zhiwei's chest, "While you still have some looks."

What nonsense are you spouting? Zhiwei clutched her clothes tightly and staggered back a few steps.

The person in front of me used to be a capricious and eccentric psychopath, and now he's a capricious and eccentric old psychopath.

If I hadn't become emperor...

Zhiwei was furious inside, but he still maintained a respectful demeanor: "Your Majesty is too kind. I grew up among the common people and have had many lives even poorer than this. I believe I can live a good life."

“As for currying favor—you jest. I have the skills myself and don’t need to rely on others.” Zhiwei looked up at Zhu Liji, and as if possessed, continued, “Besides, if it’s about currying favor, who can compare to His Majesty?”

"Utterly absurd." Zhu Liji indeed pushed her to the ground.

Before Zhiwei could react, and not daring to brace herself with her elbows, she fell halfway down.

The strength was considerable, and the pain allowed Zhiwei to maintain a calm facade. She took a deep breath and teased, "I was just joking."

She rose casually, patted her hem, and said with a bright yet solemn smile, "Your Majesty, please rest assured, I will adjust my mood and return to the Imperial Kitchen to continue serving the court."

"I really can't keep living like this," Zhiwei thought to herself.

Zhu Liji snorted coldly and stared at Zhiwei for a long time.

He turned back to the desk and said calmly, "You do have backbone. However, I do have a way to make you not have to worry about what others think."

Zhiwei didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.

“Stay by my side, be my personal lady-in-waiting, and take care of my private meals.” Zhu Liji’s gaze fell on her face, “just like back in the Shu County military camp.”

Yan Zhiwei was taken aback for a moment, then shook his head: "Your Majesty, I am clumsy and afraid that I will not be able to serve you well. Besides, it is a subject's instinct to serve Your Majesty wholeheartedly."

"What I want is for you to be willing, not these platitudes." Zhu Liji leaned back in his chair.

He added, "I never had any expectations of you. Your greatest use is that you're fairly loyal. Just stay with me and I won't let you suffer."

Yan Zhiwei remained silent for a moment, then finally nodded.

Before leaving, Zhu Liji called Zhiwei back again.

"Now you can use your own surname freely, and no one will pose a threat to you anymore."

These words came suddenly, and Zhiwei didn't understand them.

——

Days passed by.

After the incident with Zhu Liji, life in the palace was peacefuler than Zhiwei had expected.

She retained her title of Shanggong (a high-ranking official), but apart from handling the daily affairs of the Shangshiju (Imperial Food Bureau), she spent most of her time in a side hall of Yangxin Hall.

Her duties were simple yet tedious—overseeing the preparation of the emperor's private meals in the small kitchen, ensuring that every dish met his almost demanding tastes. Steamed fish could not contain a single speck of ginger, stir-fried dishes could not have a trace of garlic, and scallions were strictly forbidden.

The slightest mistake could result in either a cold glare from him or being completely removed from the party, leaving one to endure Zhu Liji's mockery.

Zhiwei had no choice; Zhu Liji was too picky, so she often had to take matters into her own hands.

To be honest, Zhu Liji seemed to enjoy this process of "torturing" her. He would suddenly summon her to his side during the intervals between reviewing memorials, point to the cold soup on the table, and coldly say, "It wasn't cooked long enough, the soup is cloudy."

Or, when she presents a newly developed dessert, she takes only one bite, puts down her chopsticks, and utters two words: "Too sweet."

His critical attitude was exactly the same as when he had complained about her grabbing his sleeve in the kitchen of the Lingnan County government office years ago. At first, Zhiwei could tolerate it, simply adjusting it according to his requirements again and again. Later, she got used to it, and would occasionally talk back:

"If Your Majesty finds my performance unsatisfactory, you may seek out the master chefs of the Imperial Kitchen. Why should you humiliate yourself?"

Zhu Liji, with a cold face, pushed the pastries in front of her: "Make them again."

"My shift for today is over," Zhiwei said, indicating that he would not accept working overtime.

Zhu Liji raised an eyebrow: "Double the reward."

Zhiwei: "Yes, sir!"

It must be admitted that Zhu Liji is a very generous person, and Zhiwei doesn't think that bowing down for money is a bad thing. Occasionally, if she flatters him a little, Zhu Liji will give her a raise, and Zhiwei will be happy; if he gives her a reward, Zhiwei will smile even more brightly.

Only occasionally, when the night is quiet, Zhiwei feels an inexplicable emptiness.

She knew the reason, but she had to be strong, so at first she tried to suppress that feeling, until finally she couldn't help but admit that she couldn't stop the palpitations.

She would sit alone by the cold window of Jingfang Garden, under a solitary lamp, repeatedly stroking the letters Zhu Mingyu had sent back in the past.

The letters were worn and frayed from being turned over so many times. She knew the familiar handwriting by heart, but she still couldn't get enough of them. With the letters in her hand, she felt as if Zhu Mingyu hadn't gone far, as if he were still chattering in her ear, sharing his experiences on the road.

"I'm doing fine now. Things at the Imperial Food Bureau aren't too busy, it's just... Zhu Liji is still the same as ever, always finding fault with me. But don't worry, I haven't let myself be wronged."

Zhiwei said this to Zhu Mingyu, and she also said it to herself.

Days passed silently in mundane routines.

Strangely, since Zhu Mingyu left, Zhiwei has eaten several times, but her cheeks have remained thin. Zhiwei has no mind to think about the two ounces of flesh on her face. She is like a wild grass that grows tenaciously in the cracks of rocks, trying her best to absorb every bit of nutrients to maintain her vitality.

On another day, as usual, Zhiwei carried the freshly stewed ginseng chicken soup toward the main hall of Yangxin Hall.

Before they even got close, they could hear a fierce argument coming from inside the hall. It was Princess Zhu Hua's unique voice, sharp and angry.

"...Zhu Liji! You've got a good plan! Those barbarians from Siam have admitted defeat and offered to make peace through marriage, but why should I be the one to go through that? Why don't you marry the princess that Siam sent?"

"You know that this marriage proposal from Siam is not a good thing. Knowing there are pitfalls and wanting to avoid trouble, you've set your sights on me, the widowed princess! If you don't want to marry, why don't you find a concubine for your good-for-nothing son beforehand? At least that would ensure the royal family has some descendants."

Zhu Sheng is only ten years old, it's too early for him to get married, as for having children... Zhiwei thought that Zhu Hua was indeed angry and didn't care about the facts when she spoke.

"Princess of the Great Zhao, you are the only eligible woman." Zhu Liji's voice drifted over. "Now that the situation has just stabilized, it is not advisable to start another war. A marriage alliance is the best solution."

"The best way?" Zhu Hua sneered. "You just want to sacrifice me! You know perfectly well that the king of Siam is cruel, yet you still want to push me out!"

"This is your responsibility as a princess."

"My responsibility?" Zhu Hua's voice suddenly rose. "Isn't the responsibility I've borne enough for the Zhu family's empire? I won't!"

"Let me tell you, instead of forcing me, you should go to Wan Qi. Isn't he your brother-in-law? Isn't he the number one general of the Great Zhao? Let him lead the troops to fight!"

The footsteps grew louder and louder. Zhu Hua stormed out of the hall, glared at Zhiwei as she passed by, and then quickly left.