Rumors are like blades

As autumn deepens, the sunlight carries a lazy warmth, yet it cannot penetrate the somber atmosphere within the Imperial Study.

Wei Jin had just finished discussing the flood situation in Jiangbei with several important ministers. Looking slightly tired, he leaned back on the dragon throne and rubbed his temples. The ministers bowed and took their leave, but an elderly censor, known for his uprightness and pedantry, lingered until the very end.

"Is there anything else, Imperial Censor Wang?" Wei Jin looked up, his voice carrying a hint of weariness that was barely perceptible.

Imperial Censor Wang's white beard trembled. He stepped forward, bowed deeply, and looked troubled, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't: "Your Majesty... this old minister... this old minister does have something that is stuck in my throat and I have to say it. But... but I'm afraid that if I say something offensive, it will offend Your Majesty's ears."

Wei Jin picked up his teacup and blew away the foam: "Speak frankly. I forgive you."

As if he had made up his mind, Imperial Censor Wang knelt down with a thud, his voice filled with the earnestness and worry characteristic of an old minister: "Your Majesty! Recently, I have heard some... some very absurd rumors in the streets and even among my colleagues. I did not wish to trouble Your Majesty with such sordid matters, but thinking of Your Majesty's good reputation and the stability of the court, I cannot sleep at night and finally feel that I cannot hide it from you!"

Wei Jin put down his teacup, his gaze calmly falling on him: "Oh? What rumors could make the old censor so uneasy?"

"Rumors...the rumors were initially just baseless gossip," Imperial Censor Wang said cautiously, choosing his words carefully. "Such as...such as His Majesty's diligence in governing, spending days in the Imperial Study, while the Empress...seems to have not sent anyone to inquire about or show concern for him, which is contrary to...uh, the usual way of husband and wife; or...it is said that when the Empress bestows gifts upon the servants, His Majesty turns around and gives them generous rewards, as if...as if there is a competitive spirit. Such trivial gossip, this old minister would have simply laughed off!"

He abruptly changed the subject, his tone becoming heavy and indignant: "However, what I heard afterward was even more absurd and vicious! First, they falsely claimed that the Imperial Guards and the military camps in the suburbs of the capital only knew how to obey the Empress's imperial edicts and were unaware of the Emperor's military tally! Second, they slandered the 'Mountain and Sea Millet' created by the Empress herself, claiming it was for the benefit of the people but in reality a vast network of spies to monitor officials and even... even spy on the inner palace and forbidden gardens!"

Imperial Censor Wang kowtowed, cold sweat beading on his forehead, his voice suppressing immense fear and anger: "And the worst... the third... the third is even more heinous and insane, this old minister... this old minister truly dares not..."

"Go on," Wei Jin said calmly, but the air in the imperial study seemed to suddenly turn colder.

Imperial Censor Wang steeled himself, closed his eyes, and said, "I dare say that Your Majesty... although you sit on the dragon throne,... however, all matters of military and political affairs require... all require the reliance on... uh..."

He ultimately didn't dare utter the words "the Empress's decision" and "like a puppet," but instead pounded his head on the ground, his voice trembling, "Such absurd and treasonous words are actually circulating in private! This old minister is heartbroken to hear this! Your Majesty! This trend must not be allowed to continue! If this continues, where will the Emperor's authority be? Where will the court's order be? Your Majesty!"

After he finished speaking, he lay prostrate on the ground, his old body trembling slightly, whether from anger or fear, it was hard to tell.

The Imperial Study fell into a deathly silence.

The sandalwood incense wafted gently, yet it couldn't dispel the silent, pervasive chill.

Wei Jin's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of the dragon throne, the rhythm steady yet inexplicably giving off a sense of impending doom. He didn't immediately lash out, nor did he show any obvious anger. Only his deep eyes were darker than usual, like an icy pool.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice so calm it sent a chill down one's spine: "I understand."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the old censor who was prostrate on the ground: "Your loyalty is commendable, and I will handle this matter myself. What you said today has entered my ears, so do not mention it to outsiders again."

"This old minister...this old minister obeys the decree!"

As if granted a pardon, Imperial Censor Wang kowtowed again before shakily rising and backing away.

The study door closed gently.

Wei Jin remained seated in the same position, sunlight streaming through the window lattice illuminating half of his figure while the other half remained shrouded in deep shadow. He suddenly chuckled very softly, a hint of cold mockery in his voice.

"Relying on decisive action... unaware of military command... spying on the palace..."

He repeated those words under his breath, a long-lost roguish air about him as he muttered to himself, "If she's really interested, then I'll be much more at ease."

He naturally didn't believe Ling Zhan would do such a thing.

Through years of working side by side and sharing responsibilities, they have developed a trust and tacit understanding that transcends that of ordinary rulers and subjects or even husbands and wives.

but.

He reached for the teacup, then put it down again, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly for a moment.

But these rumors, so precise and malicious, struck at the most sensitive and untouchable area of ​​an emperor—power and absolute control over it. Even if he didn't believe them, these words, like tiny thorns piercing his heart, weren't fatal, but brought a persistent and irritating sting.

The two of them, in particular, seemed to have started doing their own thing again; it was as if they had returned to the days when they first came to the county town to do business.

In the quiet of the night, he longed for her to come and have a heart-to-heart talk with him, but she never did.

He would also subconsciously think: Is this really how the outside world views me and the Empress?

One might wonder: Is the power she wields truly so great that outsiders have this misconception?

An even more absurd thought might flash through your mind: Does she... also know about these rumors? Why... has she never mentioned it to me? She simply doesn't care about my feelings at all.

Wei Jin's gaze fell on the stack of memorials awaiting approval on the desk. The top one was Ling Zhan's proposal on the reorganization of the Jiangbei canal transport. The handwriting was elegant, the thinking was meticulous, and it was as efficient and reliable as ever.

He reached out his hand, his fingertips lingering on the vermilion edict for a moment, but ultimately did not turn it over.

He simply sat silently, letting the sunlight outside the window gradually shift, elongating his shadow and completely engulfing it in the dimness of the imperial study.

dappled light and shadow were cast on the gold-brick floor of the Imperial Study.

The air was filled with the faint scent of pine resin and a kind of stagnant quiet and weariness.

The only sounds were the soft rustling of the vermilion brush across the Xuan paper and the occasional, barely audible breathing of someone standing in a corner beside the inkstone.

After Wei Jin finished reviewing the last memorial, he rubbed his temples, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over Qin Ru, who was carefully organizing the memorial with her head down. Her profile was slender, her neck drooping, and a wisp of hair fell beside her cheek, trembling gently with her movements like the antennae of a startled butterfly.

He suddenly spoke, his voice sounding somewhat abrupt in the excessive silence.

"Last time you said that after the rain the stream would rise above the stone bridge and the children would wade in the water barefoot?"

She seemed slightly flustered by the emperor's sudden inquiry, but when she mentioned her hometown, her eyes softened, revealing a genuine longing: "The water was cool and refreshing, reaching up to my calves, so clear that I could see the smooth, rounded pebbles at the bottom. The children loved to catch those silly little fish, and sometimes they could even find tiny snails..."

Her voice gradually brightened, but then she realized something in the next second, and that spark of life flickered like a candle flame in a gentle breeze, dimming slightly. She lowered her eyelashes slightly, and her tone carried a hint of wistfulness that was barely perceptible, perhaps even unconscious to herself: "Actually... thinking back now, the water was really cold, and my bones ached after stepping in it for a while. It's just... it's just that I've been away from home for so long that I don't even remember the coldness of that time very clearly anymore, only the fun part remains."

These words were simple, even somewhat trivial, beginning with vivid memories, then turning into a faint sense of homesickness and loss.

That complex and genuine emotion strangely dispelled the gloom in Wei Jin's heart, making him feel that the woman in front of him was not entirely a symbol of fear and trepidation before the emperor, but a person with a past and warmth.

He gave a very subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost imperceptibly: "The rustic charm of Jiangnan is always inseparable from water."

This sentiment seems to carry a hint of longing for a simpler life that he himself was unaware of.

Just as I was about to ask something else, a slight noise came from outside.

The head eunuch's voice rang out respectfully: "Your Majesty, Miss Wanxing from the Empress's palace has arrived."

Wei Jin looked up: "What is it?"

Wanxing entered with her head bowed and a red lacquer box in her hands. She first bowed and then spoke in a calm and even voice: "Your Majesty, Her Majesty has heard that there is some fine Huizhou ink among the tributes recently. Considering Your Majesty's daily expenses, Her Majesty specially ordered me to send some over. Her Majesty also said that Your Majesty is diligent in state affairs, but should also take care of your health."

The words were addressed to Wei Jin, and the manners were impeccable, but Wanxing's gaze swept almost imperceptibly and swiftly over the petite figure beside Wei Jin, pausing for a moment on Qin Ru's blushing earlobes and her eyes, which were clearly bright with excitement from her conversation with the emperor.

Wei Jin grunted in acknowledgment, and the eunuch stepped forward to take the brocade box.

Wanxing said no more, bowed, and took his leave.

From the moment she entered until she left, her demeanor was impeccable and without fault, yet the cold, scrutinizing atmosphere briefly shattered the relaxed "rustic charm" of the moment.

Wei Jin glanced at the box of Hui ink, then looked back at the memorial, but seemed to have some difficulty focusing.

Inside the Phoenix Palace, the fragrance of medicine and flowers mingled faintly.

Ling Zhan was rolling up his sleeves, checking the growth of a newly transplanted chrysanthemum, his fingertips damp with soil.

Wanxing returned silently and stood to the side with her hands at her sides.

"Did it arrive?" Ling Zhan asked, his tone indifferent.

"Yes," Wanxing replied, then hesitated for a moment before speaking, "His Majesty is in the Imperial Study... reviewing memorials. He looks alright."

Ling Zhan picked up a damp cloth from the side and slowly wiped his hands, waiting for what was to come.

“That Miss Qin,” Wanxing’s voice was even lower, but every word was clear, “was also serving before the Emperor. When I went there, His Majesty was talking to her, and it seemed… the atmosphere was quite relaxed. Miss Qin’s face was flushed, and His Majesty also seemed… to have a more relaxed expression.”

The action of wiping his hands paused almost imperceptibly.

Ling Zhan put down the handkerchief, walked to the window, and looked towards the direction of the Imperial Study, remaining silent.

A silent tension filled the air.

After a long pause, she spoke softly, her tone devoid of emotion: "It's a good thing that His Majesty has someone by his side who can bring him some joy."

Wanxing looked up at her master, then hesitated, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.

Just then, a trusted eunuch rushed in, knelt down, and whispered, "Your Majesty, I overheard two gossipy palace maids whispering near the laundry department... their words were quite absurd, and I dare not conceal them."

"explain."

"They...they say that His Majesty greatly favors the new palace maid who serves as the scribe, rewarding her generously more than once, and even...even privately mentioning that if such a clever and understanding person could accompany him for a long time, why would he need to...why would he need to force the matter of having children..."

The little eunuch's voice grew lower and lower until his head was almost buried in the ground.

The hall was deathly silent.

Ling Zhan stood tall and straight, still gazing out the window, as if he hadn't heard anything.

But the hand behind his back had slightly curled knuckles, revealing a hint of pale strength.

"Anything else?" Her voice remained steady, even fainter than before.

"And...and some people say that they saw Miss Qin often lost in thought and shedding tears while looking at the gifts bestowed upon her by His Majesty, feeling grateful for the Emperor's boundless grace. That demeanor...is definitely not the gratitude of an ordinary palace maid, but rather...like..."

"Like what?"

"Like a woman admiring her beloved..." the little eunuch said, then kowtowed heavily.

Wanxing frowned and hissed, "Nonsense! How dare you offend Her Majesty's ears!"

Ling Zhan slowly turned around.

His face showed no surprise, anger, or sadness, only a deep, cold calm.

But in his eyes, it was as if a thin layer of ice had formed, sealing away all his emotions.

"I understand." Her tone was completely flat. "Wanxing, find out the source. As for those words..."

She paused, her gaze sweeping across the distant horizon outside the window, as if watching a storm she had long anticipated.

"No need to stop them, and no need to pay attention to them."

A look of surprise flashed in Wanxing's eyes, but she still respectfully replied, "Yes."

Ling Zhan walked back to the chrysanthemum, reached out, and gently touched the tender petals.

Her fingertips were icy cold.

"A confidante...?" she murmured to herself, her voice so low that only she could hear it. "That's fine too."

At least, it can make him smile.

As for the sharp, stinging bitterness that suddenly surged from the depths of her heart but was forcibly suppressed, she glanced at the meticulously tended garden.

It was as if a plant with a unique aura had suddenly appeared.

That's all.

She doesn't need explanations, she just needs to see clearly.

Because it was her own choice.

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