Chapter 6 Predictions are no substitute for calculations; what posture does the Emperor wish to employ now? ...
Fangru's back was pressed tightly against the railing, with nowhere left to retreat. Only then did she realize with a start that he knew everything.
"Your Majesty is wise." She raised her eyes and looked directly into those unfathomable eyes. "This humble woman simply cannot bear to see such a precious gem tarnished."
Zhou Ling chuckled softly and suddenly took a step forward.
"And what about this pearl?" he asked in a low voice. "Why won't it dance for me personally?"
A sudden night breeze arose, scattering a tree full of wisteria blossoms.
Pale purple petals danced in the moonlight, a few landing on Zhou Ling's black brocade robe shoulder.
Fangru lowered her eyes to look at the few petals and said softly, "This humble woman is more willing to relieve Your Majesty's worries."
"Oh?" Zhou Ling's slender fingers twirled a petal from her shoulder, gently rotating it between her fingertips. "For example?"
“For example…” Fangru’s gaze turned to the garden pavilion in the distance, where the sound of string and bamboo instruments could be faintly heard. “Cheng Jinse, the daughter of the Minister of Works, is currently having a secret rendezvous with Du Heng, the son of the Vice Minister of Rites, by the Hibiscus Pond in the southeast corner.”
The flower petals at Zhou Ling's fingertips suddenly shattered into dust, scattering in the wind. He narrowed his eyes: "When did Miss Shen become like those gossipy women, focusing solely on matters of the heart?"
"This humble woman is not concerned with romance," Fangru's voice was soft, yet it was like a thin blade slicing through the night. "It is the will of Heaven. Soon, the two of them will fall into the water."
As if to confirm her words, the night wind suddenly picked up, causing the willow branches by the pond to dance wildly like ghosts.
Zhou Ling's eyes darkened, and he was about to speak when a loud "thump" suddenly came from afar, followed by a woman's panicked scream.
"Help! Someone has fallen into the water!"
The guards rushed over with torches and quickly dragged two disheveled figures out of the water. Cheng Jinse's crimson silk skirt was soaked and clung to her body, while Du Heng's outer robe had been undone at some point, revealing his wet undergarments.
Zhou Ling's gaze suddenly sharpened like a knife. He turned to Fang Ru, his voice carrying a dangerous undertone: "Miss Chen, you have quite the methods. Even the spies I planted are not as well-informed as you."
Fangru curtsied and said, "This humble woman dares not take credit; it was merely by chance that I... witnessed what was about to happen."
"Ha!" Zhou Ling suddenly laughed out loud, casually breaking off a wisteria branch to play with. "Miss Chen, are you perhaps going to say that you can predict the future? I've seen plenty of people in this court who pretend to be gods and ghosts."
A commotion arose in the distance, with Cheng Jinse's sobs mingling with Du Heng's explanations.
Fangru smoothed her wind-blown hair and said, "There are too many people here, Your Majesty. If you have any questions, why don't we go to Zuixianlou? Their wine is the most mellow."
A hint of interest flashed in Zhou Ling's eyes as he tucked a wisteria branch into Fangru's hair: "Alright, I'd like to see what other tricks Miss Chen has up her sleeve."
The private room on the second floor of Zuixianlou overlooks a secluded alley.
Fangru poured Zhou Ling a full cup of wine: "In the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, someone will be killed in the alley."
Zhou Ling scoffed and downed the wine in his cup in one gulp: "Miss Chen, do you know that the crime of deceiving the emperor is punishable by the extermination of nine generations of your family?"
"Your subject dares not." Fangru calmly looked out the window. "The deceased was the daughter of a silk merchant, and the murderer was his gambling cousin who refused to pay his debts. The murder weapon was a dagger engraved with the character '福' (fortune), because..." She paused, "...it was a gift the deceased gave him on his birthday last year."
Fangru lowered her eyelashes, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the embroidery on her sleeve. These details were things her cousin had told her as jokes in the palace in her previous life.
Zhou Ling's hand, which was toying with the wine glass, paused slightly. Just then, a piercing scream suddenly came from downstairs: "Murder!"
The guards rushed downstairs and soon reported that a woman had indeed been stabbed to death, and the murder weapon was exactly as Fangru had described.
Zhou Ling's expression finally changed, and he grabbed Fang Ru's wrist: "Who exactly are you?"
Fangru remained composed and dignified: "Someone who can help Your Majesty. The Northern Barbarian delegation will arrive in the capital in six months. On the surface, they will negotiate peace, but in reality, they have brought thirty assassins to carry out an assassination at the welcoming banquet." She looked directly into Zhou Ling's eyes, "Release Gu Zhou, and I am willing to tell Your Majesty everything I know."
Zhou Ling released his grip and suddenly burst into laughter: "What a Shen Fangru! I can release Gu Zhou, but on one condition," he leaned closer, "you must enter the cabinet and become my national advisor."
Fangru's pupils contracted slightly. Entering the cabinet meant being completely drawn into the vortex of the court, but... she took a deep breath: "Your subject obeys the decree."
“Very good.” His deep voice brushed against her ear like a feather, carrying an irresistible majesty. “I will build a Taoist temple for you…” His slender fingers suddenly lifted her chin, forcing her to look directly at him. “Right next to the Zichen Palace, so that you can observe the celestial phenomena for me day and night…” His thumb lingered intimately on her lips.
Fangru's breath hitched; she could clearly feel the warmth emanating from his fingertips. Zhou Ling's aura enveloped her, the scent of ambergris mixed with a faint smell of alcohol, causing her to tremble involuntarily.
“I hope Miss Shen’s prophecy…” He suddenly leaned in, his lips almost touching her earlobe, his voice dangerous and seductive, “will always be so… accurate.” The last four words were almost a whisper, yet they burned into her heart like a brand.
When he stepped back, Fangru realized that her palms were sweaty.
Zhou Ling turned and left, his back as straight as a pine tree, but he paused slightly at the palace gate, turning his head to cast a meaningful glance, his eyes clearly saying: You can't escape.
Back at the Shen residence, the warmth of home allowed Fangru to temporarily forget the oppressive feeling Zhou Ling had just given her.
The news of Gu Zhou's immediate release spread quickly. A cool breeze carried flower petals across her face, and the joyful voices of servants echoed from afar. The voices were so vivid and real, forming a stark contrast to the golden prison she remembered.
"Miss, your hand..." the maid beside her exclaimed.
Fangru then realized that her fingernails had already left crescent-shaped bloodstains on her palm. She let go of her hand, looked at the marks that shimmered in the sunlight, and suddenly chuckled softly.
The laughter started softly, then grew louder and louder, and finally became tinged with a sob.
The past self, trapped in a gilded cage, the rainy night when she watched Gu Zhou's blood spill at the inn, all the restless resentment and regret—all of it was gently soothed by the gentle breeze at this moment.
She raised her hand and caught a falling petal. The pink and white petal trembled slightly in her palm, just like her restless emotions at that moment.
It turns out that fate really can be changed, and she doesn't have to repeat the same mistakes.
"It's so nice..." she murmured softly, pressing the petals close to her heart and letting the sunlight bathe her entire body.
This time, she could finally be with Gu Zhou openly and honestly.
As dusk settled, the sound of horses' hooves finally came from outside the mansion gate.
Fangru stood on the veranda, clutching her handkerchief, watching two servants help a figure stagger across the threshold.
The man had his head down, and his pale chin was faintly visible through his disheveled hair. Fangru still recognized Gu Zhou's usual indigo robe at a glance, but it was now tattered and the front was covered with large patches of dark brown blood.
Gu Zhou was placed on a low couch in the west wing.
Fangru got closer and saw clearly that his lips were cracked and peeling, his right fingernails were all gone, and his fingertips were covered with thick scabs.
When the doctor cut open the fabric on his back, Fangru gasped. Among the crisscrossing whip marks, two had already become infected.
"What a tragedy..." Father Shen rubbed his hands and paced around the room. "If I had known this would happen, I shouldn't have agreed to the marriage with the Gu family in the first place."
Fangru didn't reply, but wrung out a handkerchief and gently wiped the cold sweat from Gu Zhou's forehead.
When she touched his brow bone, Gu Zhou suddenly opened his eyes. His eyes, which always held a smile, were now bloodshot, and his gaze was unfocused for a moment before refocusing on her face.
“…Fang…Ru?” His voice was hoarse and incoherent, yet he was eager to get up. “The Dali Temple…wronged me…they did it on purpose…”
"Don't speak." Fangru pressed his shoulder and turned to the doctor, saying, "Use the snow ginseng to keep him breathing for now. I'll go to the storeroom to find wound medicine."
She strode out of the house, but suddenly squatted down behind a pillar, burying her face in her skirt and trembling silently.
She was all too familiar with Gu Zhou's gaze just now; it was exactly the same look he gave her on the day Li Zuo killed him in her past life.
Her knuckles were clenched so tightly they turned white, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. Now was not the time to break down.
Three months later.
"The locust plague in Jizhou will begin seven days after the Mid-Autumn Festival." Fangru lowered her eyes and laid out the copper coins, deliberately omitting the two most crucial counties, "We need to prepare 200,000 shi of grain in advance."
Zhou Ling tapped the table lightly with his fingertips, his gaze lingering on her trembling eyelashes for a moment.
For the past six months, her predictions have always been accurate yet somewhat reserved, like carefully designed bait that compels him to bite the hook again and again.
"My dear minister, you seem restless lately." He suddenly leaned forward, the scent of ambergris enveloping you. "Are you concerned about Young Master Gu's injuries?"
The copper coin between Fangru's fingers trembled with a "ding".
“My abilities are intertwined with my emotions.” She looked directly at the king, her voice as light as frost on a blade, “If I lose control because of my fiancé’s serious injury, I might foresee a future that Your Majesty would not want to see.”
Zhou Ling's pupils contracted slightly.
He clearly sensed that she could only predict events within six months, but he simply straightened up slowly: "Issue an imperial decree to bestow ten hundred-year-old ginseng roots upon Gu Zhou." As he turned, his dark robes billowed like thunderclouds. "Tomorrow, I want to hear the complete locust plague prophecy."
Three more months passed.
When the Northern Barbarian delegation arrived in the capital, Zhou Ling had already set up dozens of oil cauldrons at the city gate.
Li Zuo grinned maliciously as he kicked the chained messengers one by one into the boiling oil, their shrill screams echoing between the city gate towers.
The onlookers turned pale; some vomited on the spot, and one woman even fainted from fright.
But the scene inside the palace was quite different.
The sounds of string and wind instruments filled the air, and wine cups clinked in celebration.
Zhou Ling leaned back on the dragon throne, tapping the luminous cup absently with his fingertips.
The screams that drifted faintly from the direction of the city gate, mixed with the crackling of boiling oil, sounded like the most pleasant music to him.
"Your Majesty..." The eunuch beside him trembled violently.
Zhou Ling suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist, and under the eunuch's horrified gaze, drank the wine in one gulp using his hand.
"What are you afraid of?" He chuckled and released his grip, letting the eunuch slump to the ground. "This is just the beginning."
The sound of clashing armor echoed from outside the hall.
Li Zuo strode into the hall: "Your Majesty, the executions of all thirty men have been completed."
“Fine.” Zhou Ling slammed his wine glass to the ground. “The Northern Barbarians are using the pretext of peace talks to carry out assassinations. Starting today, all prefectures and counties will mobilize 300,000 troops. A month later, we will set out to attack the Northern Barbarians.”
The hall fell into a deathly silence; even breathing seemed to freeze.
Fangru was dumbfounded. In her previous life, Zhou Ling had only ordered the strengthening of border defenses at this time. Why was he launching a northern expedition in this life?
Could it really be that she personally toppled the first domino and changed history?
The civil officials were at a loss, but Li Zuo was the first to step forward: "I am willing to be the vanguard!"
Then, all the civil and military officials knelt down in unison, the sound of their foreheads touching the ground like fruit falling in autumn.
Zhou Ling chuckled: "All of you ministers... are very sensible."
After a few rounds of drinks, Fangru excused herself to get some fresh air and retreated to the corridor.
The night wind carried the chill of early autumn, making her temples throb. These days she'd been recalling her past life too much, and fragmented images kept flashing before her eyes.
"Lord Shen, you have excellent skills."
The sudden sound behind her made Fangru turn around abruptly.
The man, dressed in a dark blue official robe with cloud patterns, leaned silently against a vermilion pillar, casually toying with a white jade wine cup between his fingers.
The cool sunlight fell on his face, highlighting his sharp features: sword-like eyebrows, a high nose bridge, and thin lips pressed into a detached curve.
"I am Zheng Yu, a senior official in the Ministry of Justice." He took half a step forward, "and I'm in charge of the dirty work at the Imperial Prison."
Fangru's nails dug into her palm. Were all those injuries on Gu Zhou's hands and scars on his back caused by this person?
"I heard that Young Master Gu can get out of bed and walk around now?" Zheng Yu took a sip of his wine. "What a pity, if he had put in a little more effort back then, maybe he could have..."
"Lord Zheng has had too much to drink." Fangru turned to leave.
"You think helping Zhou Ling eliminate the Northern Barbarian army is enough to earn merit?" Zheng Yu suddenly raised his voice. "Do you know that he's going to invade the Northern Barbarians next? How many men will have to enlist? How many families will be torn apart?"
Fangru paused in her steps.
Will many people be separated from their families because of her?
Zheng Yu leaned close to her ear, his breath reeking of alcohol mixed with a certain metallic sweetness: "When Gu Zhou was in Zhao Prison, I could have made sure he never got out." His voice was very soft, "Unfortunately, someone stopped me..."
Fangru's pupils contracted slightly. She hadn't expected this person to dare to provoke her so blatantly, especially since she was now the Imperial Advisor serving Zhou Ling.
"Lord Zheng's words today have a hidden meaning." She chuckled softly, but her fingertips secretly dug into her palm.
Zheng Yu took a half step back, his smile appearing particularly cold in the moonlight: "This humble official is only worried that the Grand Preceptor will have nightmares at night."
Only after the figure in blue completely disappeared at the end of the corridor did Fangru realize that her hands were trembling uncontrollably.
"Why is Sister Chen standing here alone, lost in thought?"
The crisp sound startled Fangru.
Lin Yueyao walked over arm in arm with a young man who looked like a scholar. Since this young lady listened to Fangru's advice half a year ago and stopped pestering Zhou Ling, she has become even more beautiful.
“This is Xu Ziqian.” Lin Yueyao’s cheeks flushed slightly. “He’s a compiler at the Hanlin Academy.” She suddenly leaned close to Fangru’s ear, “Sister, please help me see if he’s my true love.”
Ever since Fangru was appointed as the Imperial Advisor by Zhou Ling, the young ladies who rarely interacted with her in the past suddenly became very affectionate towards her.
Although the household received invitations from young ladies from various families every day, Fangru always preferred to believe that the sisters who held her hand and spoke intimately with her had genuine affection in their eyes, rather than scheming against her status.
Fangru looked at the refined scholar in front of her. He was nervously rubbing his hands, and there were still ink stains on the cuffs of his blue shirt.
In her past life, Lin Yueyao should have been infatuated with Zhou Ling at this moment, so how could she know any compiler from the Hanlin Academy?
“Sister,” Fangru gently pulled her sleeve away from being tugged, “When it comes to matters of marriage, you have to make sure you’re sure for yourself.”
"Good sister, please help me take a look!" Lin Yueyao persisted, her almond-shaped eyes shining with expectation. "Last time you said His Majesty wasn't a good match for me, and wasn't you right?"
Fangru blinked, then suddenly reached out and pinched Lin Yueyao's chin, scrutinizing her from side to side with feigned seriousness: "Let me see, on our Miss Lin's face," she deliberately dragged out the words, "why does it blatantly scream 'desperate to marry'?"
"You!" Lin Yueyao immediately bristled and lunged forward to grab Fangru's waist. "I'll tear your mouth apart!"
Fangru nimbly slipped behind Xu Ziqian, using him as a shield: "Young Master Xu, you should control your husband. He's already so fierce before even getting married. What will become of him in the future!"
Lin Yueyao was both ashamed and angry. She lifted her skirt and chased after Fangru around Xu Ziqian.
Xu Ziqian stood there, at a loss, his face flushed red. Fangru seized the opportunity to grab some fallen flowers from the stone railing and stuff them into Lin Yueyao's collar.
"Shen Fangru!" Lin Yueyao screamed, jumping up and down, shaking off the flower petals covering her. "You just wait!"
Two girls were chasing and playing under the corridor, their laughter startling the sparrows under the eaves.
Fangru was running when she suddenly slipped and was caught by Lin Yueyao. The two of them fell together into a thick pile of wisteria blossoms, their hair disheveled, but they still couldn't stop laughing.
"Alright, alright, I give up!" Fangru raised her hands to beg for mercy, but took the opportunity to smother Lin Yueyao's head with a handful of flower petals. "The bride is wearing a flower crown!"
Lin Yueyao was furious and wanted revenge, but Fangru suddenly pointed behind her and said, "Oh, why did Young Master Xu leave?"
"What?" Lin Yueyao hurriedly turned around, only to see Xu Ziqian standing there, chuckling. By the time she turned around again, Fangru had already run far away, lifting her skirt, leaving only a string of silvery laughter echoing in the corridor.
Once the sound of their footsteps had faded into the distance, Fangru peeked out from behind the artificial hill.
She nimbly climbed to the top of the rock and sat down, her skirt swaying slightly in the wind.
In the distance, the faint sound of bugles sounding as soldiers drilled could be heard outside the palace walls. She couldn't help but recall Zheng Yu's words: would this war, which she had started, really cause such devastation?
"Thinking about war?"
The sudden sound behind her startled her so much that she almost slipped off the rock.
Zhou Ling had appeared at the foot of the artificial hill at some point, his black robes fluttering in the wind, and he was carrying a half-full pot of wine in his hand.
Fangru hurriedly stood up and bowed, her embroidered shoes slipping on the moss.
She was secretly annoyed. Her memories of her previous life had come to an end, and she had been deliberately avoiding the emperor for the past two weeks. She never expected to be caught red-handed today.
"Your Majesty is joking." She lowered her head. "How can the barbarians of the North stand against the mighty army of the Celestial Empire?"
Cold fingers suddenly pinched her chin, forcing her to look up.
The scent of ambergris mixed with the smell of alcohol wafted from Zhou Ling: "Is that so?" His eyes were hazy with drunkenness, but his tone was frighteningly clear: "I see you avoiding me every day, as if you are waiting to receive my death warrant."
"Your Majesty, I dare not." Fangru struggled, but the other party tightened his grip. "Please let go, Your Majesty."
With his back pressed against the jagged rocks, and the footsteps of palace servants approaching from afar, Zhou Ling instead pressed forward.
Fangru finally managed to break free and was about to take her leave when she saw him shake the wine pot: "What's the rush? I haven't finished asking my questions yet. For example... the autumn floods of the Yellow River?"
Fangru's heart pounded. In her past life, the Yellow River was perfectly calm at this time; why did he suddenly ask?
They had no choice but to play along.
In a flash, she had already started counting on her fingers: "Last night, while observing the stars, I saw dark energy lingering in the Yuzhou region..." Before she could finish speaking, her wrist suddenly tightened.
Zhou Ling grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, his breath hot and heavy with the smell of alcohol hitting her ear: "Since you can predict the future, my dear minister..." His other hand suddenly gripped her waist, the force almost leaving a bruise, "Why don't you calculate how I want to deal with you right now?"
Fangru's breathing suddenly froze.
For the past six months, Zhou Ling had been handling state affairs and deploying troops according to her prophecy. She thought that the emperor had long forgotten about those late-night summons. But the burning sensation on her waist at this moment was clearly more unrestrained than when they first met.
"Your Majesty..." her voice trembled, her back pressed against the cold rocks, "I was merely..."
"What is it?" Zhou Ling's thumb gently caressed her waist, yet with an irresistible force. "Half a year ago in the Imperial Study, didn't you calculate it very accurately?" He deliberately lowered his voice, his warm lips almost brushing against her earlobe. "You even calculated the old injury on my side of my waist with perfect accuracy."
Fangru's heart skipped a beat. That night, by candlelight, she was annotating his horoscopes, her fingertips accidentally brushing against his sash, only to be slammed onto the dragon-shaped desk by him. The sandalwood scent from her memory overlapped with the smell of alcohol now, making her momentarily dazed.
"Your Majesty, that is..." Before she could finish speaking, Zhou Ling suddenly tightened his grip on her waist.
"Now you're pretending to be confused?" His breath brushed against her trembling eyelashes. "Want me to help you remember?"
Suddenly, the sound of imperial guards patrolling came from afar. Fangru seized the opportunity to create some distance: "Your Majesty, someone is here..."
Zhou Ling remained unmoved, instead trapping her between the artificial hill and his chest: "What are you afraid of?" He chuckled softly, picking up a stray strand of her hair with his fingertips. "I remember you said that the Purple Star is dim tonight," his tone suddenly shifted, carrying a hint of danger, "perfect for doing some shady things."
A note from the author:
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