Last night, a heavy snow had fallen. Snowflakes like pear blossoms bent the branches low, and scattered red plum blossoms were the only vivid splendor left between heaven and earth.
Yan Zhi’an walked along the Hanging Dragon Path. Large snowflakes clung to the sky-blue lapels of her robes. When she reached the shelter of the corridor, she lifted a hand and brushed the snow from her shoulders.
That hand was pale, its knuckles sharply defined, nearly the same color as the snow itself.
The female official Huo Si stepped forward and saluted. “Your Majesty has been waiting for the Left Prime Minister for quite some time.”
Brushing off the last of the snow, Yan Zhi’an raised her hand, the scent of ink and paper seeming to have seeped into her very bones. She lifted her head slightly and met Huo Si’s uneasy gaze. “What is Your Majesty kicking up a fuss about this time?”
Eight years earlier, after the death of her husband, Emperor Hui, the Female Emperor Sima Shenrong had proclaimed herself emperor with the help of the Yan Clan of Jinling, and had named the prince born of the two of them as the Crown Prince.
“I don’t understand it either,” Huo Si said with a wry smile. “Three days ago, the Ministry of Justice submitted a case, and Her Majesty has been cursing them for three whole days.”
“Which case?” A flicker of confusion crossed Yan Zhi’an’s cold face. “Why is she scolding the Ministry of Justice?”
Huo Si was puzzled as well. “She’s angry because they resorted to torture without sorting out right from wrong.”
Outside, snow filled the sky, falling over the Imperial Palace. The vermilion walls were blanketed in white, like a beauty wrapped in silk, her radiance concealed, leaving only solemnity behind.
“If the Ministry of Justice didn’t resort to torture, would it still be the Ministry of Justice?” Yan Zhi’an frowned in bewilderment and glanced back at the snow-shrouded palace. “Did the Ministry of Justice lay hands on her sweetheart?”
Huo Si laughed. “Whether Her Majesty has a sweetheart—don’t you know that better than anyone?”
The Yan Clan of Jinling had been wealthy and noble for generations, skilled at scouting mountains and prospecting for mineral veins. Five years ago, amid a family upheaval, Yan Zhi’an had seized the position of Head of the Family from her grandfather and driven the members of the Yan family back to Jinling. From then on, Yan Zhi’an became the new Head of the Yan Clan of Jinling.
The Yan family had accumulated a century of heritage, yet by Yan Zhi’an’s generation, she was the only one who could scout for mineral veins. Not a single one of the other descendants possessed that talent. For this reason, years ago, the Female Emperor—then still the Empress—had drawn her into the Imperial Court, and gradually, she had shown her mettle.
The Female Emperor and Yan Zhi’an had known each other for many years, and Yan Zhi’an was thoroughly familiar with everything concerning her.
A sweetheart—there truly was none.
“How old is this person?” Yan Zhi’an asked.
Huo Si sidled closer and whispered into her ear. “Thirteen years old.”
Then it was only a child, nothing to do with romance. Who was it, then, to make the Female Emperor curse the Ministry of Justice for three days?
With her doubts unresolved, Yan Zhi’an stepped into the Grand Hall.
Inside, the charcoal fires burned bright, and wisps of green smoke curled from the bronze tripod, rising like drifting clouds. The Female Emperor stood before the tripod, pouring the entire handful of incense in her hand into it.
Seeing this, Yan Zhi’an halted ten paces away. “Your Majesty.”
“You’re here.” The Female Emperor was delighted. She tossed the brocade box of incense to a maidservant, then happily took Yan Zhi’an’s hand. “Come, Zhen has something to tell you.”
The Female Emperor was past thirty, eight years into her reign. Her fingers traced the bamboo pattern on Yan Zhi’an’s cuff, then intimately clasped her hand. The biting chill from before vanished without a trace.
She was so happy that unease stirred in Yan Zhi’an’s heart, because in all these years, she had never seen such an unrestrained smile on the Female Emperor’s face. It was as if she had obtained some precious treasure.
A treasure enough to drive one mad.
Yan Zhi’an gently brushed Her Majesty’s hand away. “Your Majesty, if you have something to say, say it plainly.”
“Drink your tea first.” The Female Emperor evaded the question, ordering Huo Si to prepare tea, then pulled the other woman to sit down.
The maidservants in the Grand Hall withdrew. Pale smoke curled upward as the two sat facing each other.
Huo Si entered to serve the tea and stole a glance at Her Majesty. A world apart from her dejected state of the past few days, Her Majesty was now in excellent spirits. Clearly, the Left Prime Minister had a way of bringing a smile to her face.
Yan Zhi’an looked at the tea before her and narrowed her eyes slightly. For Her Majesty to be this happy, something must be going on.
She did not touch the tea, and came straight to the point. “Your Majesty, if there is anything to command, This Subject will surely see it done.”
Yan Zhi’an had served at court for many years. She was no longer the naive young girl she once had been. She was the only person in this dynasty who knew the secret that the Female Emperor had killed her husband to seize the throne.
“Drink your tea first.” The Female Emperor gave a faint smile, her tone exceedingly soft.
Yan Zhi’an frowned. She was born with a pair of peach-blossom eyes, and those eyes were calm as she looked at the Female Emperor she revered. “If Your Majesty will not speak, This Subject will return to the Government Office to attend to pressing matters.”
“Stop!” The smile at the corners of the Female Emperor’s lips faded. Stifling the fire in her belly, she reached out in time to press down on Yan Zhi’an’s hand and said decisively: “Zhen has a daughter.”
“A daughter by Emperor Ming?” Yan Zhi’an had already guessed it.
Thirteen years ago, Emperor Hui had killed his elder brother and seized his sister-in-law. He murdered his own blood brother, Emperor Ming, and made Sima Shenrong his Empress. But by then, Empress Sima had already given birth to a daughter.
When Emperor Hui ascended the throne, he proclaimed to the world that the Little Princess had perished, following her father, Emperor Ming, to the grave.
The elder brother had left no heir, so the younger brother succeeded to the throne. The Imperial Clan naturally accepted it.
The Female Emperor nodded, and in that instant, a touch of sorrow crept into her eyes. Yan Zhi’an thought of Huo Si’s words and suddenly understood: the daughter had been found.
“If Your Majesty acknowledges her, the Imperial Clan will not accept it,” Yan Zhi’an said. “It would be better to first acknowledge her as an adopted daughter.” Amid her reflections, she had hit upon the best way to handle it.
The current Female Emperor had been Emperor Hui’s Empress. If Emperor Ming’s daughter suddenly surfaced, to say nothing of threatening the Crown Prince’s position, the Imperial Clan would never accept her. Moreover, the Female Emperor had only reigned for eight years; the Imperial Clan still held real power. If this were not handled well, they would move against the Princess first.
Better to acknowledge her as an adopted daughter.
In the stern hall, the Female Emperor tugged at the corner of her lips and, under Yan Zhi’an’s gaze, gently shook her head. “Zhen hopes that you will acknowledge her.”
“This Subject is to acknowledge her?” Yan Zhi’an shot to her feet in shock, the bamboo pattern on her cuff rippling with the movement. She stared at the sovereign she had served for many years, swallowed her fury, and kept her expression warm. “Your Majesty, This Subject is unmarried and childless. How could This Subject acknowledge her?”
The Female Emperor looked into those clear, cold, penetrating eyes, and panic rose in her heart. “Zhen has asked you before, and you said you would never marry in this life. Since that is so, why not raise the future Heir Apparent for Zhen? In the future, you will be the Imperial Teacher, and the standing of the Yan Clan of Jinling will rise another step along with you.”
Yan Zhi’an’s frame swayed slightly. “Your Majesty, is it you who has gone mad, or This Subject? In this life, This Subject has never cared for children. Forgive This Subject, but This Subject cannot raise Her Highness the Princess.”
“Yan Zhi’an!” The Female Emperor rose and stepped toward her, her tone icy. “Right now, the Yan Clan of Jinling regards you as an enemy and makes things difficult for you at every turn. In another ten years, when Zhen abdicates, she will be the Female Emperor. By then, you will be the Imperial Teacher, your power overshadowing the entire court.”
“Your Majesty, This Subject would have to be mad to stake an entire life on a child.” Yan Zhi’an’s voice had already lost its earlier warmth. “Your Majesty, you should know well that This Subject has not married. If This Subject acknowledges her, do you know what it will mean?”
“She would be an illegitimate daughter. This Subject would not mind, but she would be mocked by others. Or should This Subject marry this very instant, just to find her a father?”
The Female Emperor was rendered speechless. She watched Yan Zhi’an’s eyes, bright as the moon and stars, turn cold. “Zhen hopes she can follow you and learn the way of statecraft. If Zhen took her as an adopted daughter, how could Zhen teach her? At every stirring of wind and grass, there would be plots and schemes. For Zhen to acknowledge her would be to feed her poison.”
“Given Zhen’s current predicament, Zhen cannot acknowledge her. A daughter of Emperor Ming, a son of Emperor Hui—it would set off a monstrous wave in the Imperial Court. How could the Imperial Clan scions who stand behind the Crown Prince ever be reconciled to it? But you are different, Yan Zhi’an. You can raise her. You can educate her as the future Head of the Yan Family. You are her best teacher.”
Yan Zhi’an smiled bitterly. “This Subject thanks Your Majesty for the high praise.”
“You agree?” the Female Emperor pressed urgently, and promised her: “Rest assured, in days to come, your Yan Clan will surely be the foremost family of this dynasty, and you, Yan Zhi’an, will leave your name in the Historical Records.”
“Indeed, a name worth leaving—bearing a child out of wedlock. How many could manage that?” Yan Zhi’an could not help mocking. Behind her calm eyes lay frost like the snow outside. “This Subject is staking half a lifetime’s reputation for the sake of the future Heir Apparent.”
“Yan Zhi’an, you should think it over. In the future, she will be your greatest support. She will honor you and respect you.” The Female Emperor drew a breath, then suddenly smiled, and promised her: “Give Zhen five years. In five years, Zhen will return your reputation to you. Your name, Yan Zhi’an, will shine like the sun and moon, and your achievements will be as vast as heaven and earth.”
Five years? Yan Zhi’an’s gaze turned contemplative. Could she really mold a worthy Heir Apparent?
That was an open question.
Outside, wind and snow raged. The majestic, forbidding palace lay hidden beneath the white snow. Yan Zhi’an came out of the Grand Hall and, facing the storm, calmly took a step forward.
The Female Emperor had said: “She is in the Ministry of Justice Prison. Once you go, you will know what the case is.”
Yan Zhi’an braved the heavy snow and made her way to the Ministry of Justice.
As she approached, the Minister of Justice was waiting at the gate, shivering from the cold. Spotting her figure emerging from the snow, he hurried over. “Left Prime Minister! Left Prime Minister! You’ve come at last.”
The wind and snow outside were cold, but the entrance to the Ministry of Justice was colder still. A sinister chill pressed straight against the face.
Yan Zhi’an shook the snow from her cloak. “What happened?”
“That girl is called Xunqi. She beat the physician of the medicine shop to death.” The Minister of Justice was shivering so hard he could barely stand still. But when he saw the Left Prime Minister standing before him in her official robe, spine straight and bearing proud, he unconsciously stopped trembling. He went on: “After killing the physician, she smashed his shop as well. The Ministry of Justice stepped in and arrested her. Who would have thought—she’s mute. Doesn’t speak at all.”
“Doesn’t speak?” Yan Zhi’an turned her head, and abruptly felt she had been thrown into a pit of fire. Five years—not long, not short. How was she supposed to teach her?
The Minister of Justice looked troubled. “This humble official brought in a physician. Her—her throat is not the problem. She’s simply unwilling to speak.” He pursed his lips. “Stubborn to the bone.”
“You are still alive only because of Her Majesty’s mercy,” Yan Zhi’an said mockingly.
With that, she walked into the prison. The Minister of Justice scurried after her. “Since she came in, she hasn’t uttered a single word. This humble official had no way to deal with her.”
Inside the prison, a lamp burned every ten paces, yet it could not conceal the bone-piercing chill.
She reached the cell at the deepest end and pushed open the door. A wave of warmth rushed out to meet her. Paying it no mind, she strode inside. “This Prime Minister is taking her away.”
“As you wish.” The Minister of Justice had been hoping for exactly those words. The girl was a hot potato. The Female Emperor had cursed him for a full hour without repeating a single insult.
Yan Zhi’an walked to the wooden bed and gazed at the child beneath the blanket. Even on that thin face, a certain beauty could be discerned. Looking closely at her brows and eyes, she indeed bore some resemblance to the Female Emperor. No mistake—if she were acknowledged as an adopted daughter, it would never get past those old foxes.
She unfastened her cloak, lifted the blanket, wrapped the heavy garment around the girl’s body, and lifted her into her arms in one smooth motion.
Outside, the snow fell as heavily as before, and the wind stung her eyes.
Boundless sorrow welled up behind Yan Zhi’an’s calm eyes. The future Heir Apparent—indeed, the future sovereign. Five years. I hope that, as Her Majesty wishes, I can teach you into a worthy Heir Apparent.
The wind and snow were blinding, yet her expression remained gentle. Holding the girl, she stepped onto the pure white snow.
Xunqi, within five years, I will be your mother.
You are thirteen, and I am twenty-seven.
