Can I stay here tonight?
Qingchen paused for a moment, hesitated slightly, and then nodded. "The warm room shouldn't be cold, but it's a bit simple since we didn't prepare anything beforehand. It's not as comfortable as your home. If you don't mind, then..."
"not at all."
"Um……"
There was silence for a moment.
He stood against the pavilion pillar, his back ramrod straight, watching the snow falling outside. His black robe and white fur collar gave him a cold and handsome look, and the embroidered spring knife at his waist gleamed faintly.
A cold glint entered Qingchen's eyes. Remembering something, she asked, "The court is in chaos right now, and I've heard the situation outside isn't good either. What's going on? Has the White Lotus Sect gotten even more rampant?"
"Meng Gexing led the White Lotus followers and fought all the way to northern Guizhou. They've been quiet for a while these days because of the holidays, but after the New Year... they'll fight again."
Qingchen blinked. It seemed that Meng Gexing was going all out, determined to fight to the death. He really didn't take her words about the war to heart at all.
That supreme imperial power always tantalized his deepest desires.
"You said last time that the King of Shu showed signs of amassing troops. What's the situation there?" she asked.
"Huang Yu sent a letter confirming that he is recruiting soldiers, but it is unknown how many he has stockpiled."
Does the Emperor know?
He nodded, but his expression remained solemn. "His Majesty has been ill these days and is often in a coma. Consort Zheng always tries to stop me from seeing him. I have only seen him once in the past few days. When I spoke to him, he seemed to have no reaction. He looked very sluggish and his mind was not very clear."
"What illness does he have? It sounds quite serious. What did the imperial physician say?"
“It’s just a cold, nothing serious. I just took his pulse and prescribed a medicine as usual.” He pondered for a moment, then said, “But I always feel that his health has deteriorated a lot in the last two years.”
Qingchen frowned. "Do you think... it might not just be an illness?"
He looked at her and hesitated before asking, "Are you asking this because you suspect the Imperial Concubine?"
"...She was the person closest to the Emperor, accompanying him every day."
"I'll think of a way to have someone investigate."
"Um."
A moment of silence.
Outside the pavilion, the snow gradually fell heavier, drifting leisurely down from the endless night sky, filling the gaps between the roof tiles and covering the lotus-shaped stone lampstand.
There was already some snow in the courtyard, but Qingchen didn't let the servants sweep it away, wanting to preserve the New Year's atmosphere. The red crepe lanterns under the eaves emitted a soft light, making the snow appear crystal clear.
Lu Shenyun suddenly asked, "Are you still worried about Song Yue?"
She didn't want to lie to him, so she nodded.
"I will do my best, don't worry." The soft voice echoed in the cool night sky.
She shook her head. "Don't drag yourself into this. That matter is complicated enough and has already implicated many people. The situation is so chaotic right now, and the court needs people right now. If the White Lotus Sect and the Prince of Shu really attack, the defense of the capital will definitely face another tough battle, and you will have to protect the safety of the imperial city."
He watched the snow fall silently, without saying a word, his thin lips pursed, looking as if he were deep in thought.
In the pale moonlight, his body was strong and slender, his robes fluttering in the wind. His handsome profile, as if sculpted and polished, seemed to be etched into the snowy night.
"The situation is more serious than we thought, isn't it?" Qingchen sensed it, and he became even more taciturn than usual. "The Ming Dynasty currently only has 300,000 troops, half of whom are in the northern border defending against the Tatars and Oirats, and cannot be easily mobilized. Lan Tan only returned to the capital for a few days before rushing back again. There are also tens of thousands of troops concentrated along the Fujian coast, watching the Japanese pirates, and we cannot relax for a moment. But the White Lotus Sect, which came from Yunnan, has 60,000 to 70,000 members, not counting those scattered in other places, and we don't even know how many troops the Prince of Shu has stationed... If one day we really have to fight a decisive battle in the capital, how many of us will be able to fight?"
As soon as he finished speaking, he turned to look at her, his pupils as black as the night sky.
Qingchen looked back at him, and she suddenly realized that as the number one military general of the Ming Dynasty, the emperor's personal guard, and the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, the burden on his shoulders was never any lighter than that on them, the civil officials.
He was about to face the smoke of war, the carnage, enemies blinded by lust for power, and comrades falling one by one in pools of blood. And he was just an ordinary man; what did he have?
All he had was a embroidered spring knife and his own flesh and blood.
But he never said any of these things.
She suddenly remembered the first time she met him. He was dying from poisoning, his body was weak and his breath was barely a whisper, but when she took the arrow from him, he didn't utter a sound. He was resolute, tenacious, and stubborn, silent and reserved yet with an unyielding spirit.
After a moment of silent staring at each other, Lu Shenyun walked over, looked down at her, and forced a smile that he wasn't good at. "It's not that serious."
“It’s New Year’s Eve this year.” His voice was a little hoarse. “...Let’s not talk about that.”
Before Qingchen could speak, he stepped out of the pavilion and walked to the edge of the snow. His black boots crunched as they stepped on the snow.
He crouched down, plunged his hands into the pile of cold, white snow, scooped up a handful, gripped it tightly, and patted it down. His dark figure knelt beside the pristine snow, like a nimble and elegant black panther in the hazy snowy night.
"What are you going to do?" A gust of wind blew, and Qingchen tightened the cloak behind him.
"I'll build you a snowman." He busied himself with his work, without turning around.
Qingchen's heart skipped a beat, and she pursed her lips, saying, "...The snow is falling heavily, it's too cold. Please come back soon."
A steady male voice came through, "I'm not cold."
“Then I’ll help you,” she said, standing up.
“Sit down!” he replied quickly.
She ignored him and took two more steps forward. He finally turned around, looked at her, and said again, "Sit down. Wait for me."
Concise and powerful, leaving no room for argument. Having spent so much time with him, this was the first time Qingchen had ever heard him "command" her.
She had no choice but to step back, sit down, and watch as a snowball began to take shape in his hands. "Commander, are you giving me an order?"
He didn't answer, but instead turned his back to her, took something out of his pocket, and quickly stuffed it into the snowman's belly. He didn't let her see.
After a while, seeing that he still didn't say anything, she asked again, "Lord Lu, if I don't listen to you, will you arrest me and throw me into the Imperial Prison of the Garrison Command?"
He muttered to himself as he turned away, "Wait for me, it'll be ready soon."
Although he was in a hurry, he still carefully built the snowman. When she eagerly went up to see it, he was making the final touches—he picked up two stones of the same size and made them for its eyes, and broke off two branches for its hands.
He wasn't wearing gloves, his hands were red from the cold, and his tall body was covered in snow.
Seeing her approaching, he immediately pulled up her hood and tightened her cloak.
"Is it done?" Qingchen asked, peeking behind him.
He nodded, stepped aside, and showed it to her.
She looked at his meticulously crafted "masterpiece," reached out and touched the round snowman's head, and chuckled, "Silly, just like you."
So incredibly cute!
"Why doesn't it have a mouth?" she noticed.
It was indeed made by him; he's not good with words, and even the snowman he built didn't have a mouth.
Lu Shenyun didn't speak, but instead stretched out his hand, which was red from the cold, and slowly drew an upward curve on the snowman's face.
“It’s waiting for you to come closer,” he said, “and it smiles only at you.”
She looked at him, as if she could see through his dark eyes and into the depths of his heart. He opened his heart wide to her, revealing the tenderness and affection hidden within this tough man.
She sniffed, grabbed his cold hand, and pulled him along, saying, "Let's go inside and have some hot tea to warm your hands."
The words spoken by the person who couldn't speak caught her off guard, and her already fragile tear ducts seemed to be stirring again. This snowman, she really couldn't bear to look at him anymore.
Lu Shenyun didn't say anything, but obediently followed her, looking back at the snowman as he walked.
Its round body completely enveloped the object, leaving no flaws.
She will see it after a few days when the snow melts.
In the first year of the founding of the Ming Dynasty, the Lu family, as founding heroes, were bestowed an iron plaque by the founding emperor.
It records the Lu family's achievements and is inlaid with gold. The iron plaque is divided into two parts, left and right. The left half is awarded to meritorious officials, and the right half is kept in the inner palace treasury. When needed, the two parts are joined together as proof.
This iron plaque has been passed down through generations of the Lu family, and in this generation, it was passed on to Lu Shenyun.
The inscription on it, written in gold regular script, reads: "No matter what crime one is guilty of, one can be spared the death penalty."
Therefore, this iron plaque is also known as the "Golden Book Iron Certificate".
It is popularly known as the "golden token of immunity from death".
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