Chapter 25: The Right Prime Minister Is a Twin Part 2

“So Headmaster Yuan loved but couldn’t have, and chose lifelong solitude. But that love could never be spoken aloud to anyone. Xunqi, the world is harsh with women. So a woman must be cautious in word and deed. Xunqi, you know this, but you must not speak of it. Pretend you saw nothing.”

“The Madwoman also said this world is unfair to women.” Xunqi looked at her mother, as if seeing the Madwoman’s helplessness—she had been driven mad by this world.

Yan Zhi’an was helpless. She reached out and touched her daughter’s cheek. “Xunqi, you’re still young. There’s nothing you can do yet. If you pity them, you must work hard to make yourself strong—strong enough to protect them.”

Her mother’s hand was warm, as always, warming Xunqi’s heart. She smiled at her mother. Just then, a voice came from outside. “Head of the Family, Wuqing has returned.”

“Come in.” Yan Zhi’an immediately withdrew her tenderness and patted Xunqi’s shoulder. “Go on.”

Xunqi obediently saluted her mother, then withdrew.

A moment later, Wuqing entered. She first saluted the Head of the Family, then spoke. “I investigated the Shangguan family and discovered a secret. Though it happened many years ago—I heard it from an old woman.”

“Speak.” Yan Zhi’an nodded.

Wuqing had been running around for days, so busy she hadn’t slept. She stepped forward and lowered her voice. “The Right Prime Minister, Shangguan Li, is a twin.”

“Was she the elder or younger sister?” Yan Zhi’an was shocked.

“Not clear yet.” Wuqing shook her head. “I haven’t confirmed it. I only heard that Madam Shangguan gave birth in her eighth month, delivering twin daughters—but the younger one died in infancy. According to that, the Right Prime Minister would be the elder sister. But something feels off. I couldn’t find the younger sister’s grave.”

“So you think both sisters are alive?” Yan Zhi’an immediately understood her subordinate’s meaning. “What is the Shangguan family playing at? Shangguan Li’s grandfather was a Grand Tutor. She grew up going to court with him and had a smooth career. This move is surprising.”

Yan Zhi’an’s own path hadn’t been smooth—she’d spent years traveling and weathering countless storms. Shangguan Li, by contrast, had walked a road paved by her grandfather all the way to the present.

She thought of the Madwoman. Could that Madwoman be someone from the Shangguan family?

“I’m still investigating. The Shangguan family hides things well. Besides that old woman, probably no one knows.” Wuqing spoke slowly. “The Shangguan family’s servants are tight-lipped, which raises suspicion. Head of the Family, my guess is that the current Right Prime Minister is the younger sister.”

“The question now is why they claimed the younger sister died, and where the younger sister went. I think the Shangguan family has a big secret.”

Yan Zhi’an frowned after hearing this. If not for Xunqi’s reminder, she wouldn’t have connected the Madwoman to the Shangguan family. Judging by the Madwoman’s learning, she was no ordinary person. Yet she was extremely critical of the court system. A person like that, seemingly brilliant but prone to saying the wrong thing at the slightest misstep, would bring disaster upon her entire family.

So the Shangguan family had thrown her out?

In her youth, Shangguan Li had been learned and talented. After entering court, she was humble and obedient. Years of accumulation had shaped the dignified, steady Right Prime Minister Shangguan Li of today.

She couldn’t help but wonder—was the Shangguan Li before her really Shangguan Li?

“Keep investigating.” Yan Zhi’an instructed Wuqing patiently.

Wuqing accepted the order and quietly withdrew.

The next day, Yan Zhi’an summoned Xunqi and said deliberately, “I want to hold a memorial service for the Madwoman. The temple needs a painting. Would you be willing to paint it?”

“Of course.” Xunqi agreed immediately. Anything concerning the Madwoman, she would never refuse.

Xunqi’s painting skill wasn’t just good—it was masterful. In a short time, a portrait of a beauty appeared before Yan Zhi’an’s eyes. Yan Zhi’an tilted her head, studying the woman in the painting. She bore a striking resemblance to Shangguan Li. However, the woman in the painting had been bent by a life of poverty, her features weathered with hardship, whereas Shangguan Li had lived a life of comfort and privilege, well-preserved.

“Alright. Send it to the temple.” Yan Zhi’an dismissed it with a few perfunctory words of praise, then sent Xunqi off.

Afterward, she carefully rolled up the painting and summoned Wushuang. “Go to the Government Office in person and deliver this painting to Shangguan Li.”

Wushuang accepted the order.

She arrived at the Government Office at noon. The Right Prime Minister was still inside. Wushuang announced herself and entered; the people inside filed out upon seeing her. Wushuang stepped forward and presented the scroll to the Right Prime Minister. “The Left Prime Minister ordered me to deliver this to you.”

“Set it down. I understand.” Shangguan Li’s expression shifted slightly. She nodded to Wushuang. “You may go.”

After the woman left, Shangguan Li slowly unrolled the painting. When her eyes touched the face in the portrait, her pupils contracted violently.

Yan Zhi’an abandoned the idea of sending Xunqi to the Imperial Academy and found a distinguished tutor to teach her at home instead. In the meantime, the Female Emperor eagerly sent over two martial arts instructors, claiming they were to teach Xunqi—but Yan Zhi’an knew full well they were there to monitor her.

Things being what they were, Yan Zhi’an couldn’t be bothered with the Emperor. Once her injuries healed, she returned to court.

But when she entered the Grand Hall, the Right Prime Minister was absent. Even after the Female Emperor arrived, the woman still didn’t appear. Yan Zhi’an waited patiently until court was dismissed, then sought out the Minister of Personnel to ask.

The Minister of Personnel stroked his beard. “The Right Prime Minister is ill. She hasn’t attended court for three days.”

Three days? Yan Zhi’an counted on her fingers. Wushuang had delivered the letter on the second day, and she fell ill. So the Madwoman really was from the Shangguan family—and closely connected to Shangguan Li.

Yan Zhi’an didn’t dwell on it, treating it as a minor matter. Each day she attended court, returned home to check Xunqi’s studies, and then led her to the study to review memorials sent from all over.

She spread them out before Xunqi. “Familiarize yourself with these. You’ll need to see them eventually.”

Xunqi didn’t understand her mother’s intent, assuming it was a necessary lesson for the Young Heir. If her mother taught, she would learn. Mother and daughter, devoted to each other.

However, Shangguan Li’s illness stretched on for a month. Curious, Yan Zhi’an took Xunqi to the Right Prime Minister’s Residence on a rest day.

Shangguan Li held a lofty position, and her residence was a gift from Her Majesty, close to the Imperial City. It wasn’t far from the Left Prime Minister’s Residence—the two mansions stood near each other.

Xunqi had changed into a crisp robe, her long hair tied up, revealing a smooth forehead. Her skin was snow-white, her whole appearance pure and clean. Carrying gifts, she followed her mother into the mansion.

Shangguan Li was past thirty and had never married, living alone in her mansion. After her illness, many had come to visit, but she’d refused them all.

However, Shangguan Li didn’t refuse Yan Zhi’an. She had someone lead them to the bedroom.

Yan Zhi’an had assumed Shangguan Li was faking illness, but the moment she entered the bedroom, the thick smell of medicine dispelled her doubts. Shangguan Li was genuinely ill.

Xunqi handed the gifts to a maidservant and followed her mother to sit on a stool by the bed.

A month without seeing her, and Shangguan Li had grown much thinner, her face sallow as if wracked by serious illness. She looked at Xunqi and said, “The lotus flowers in my garden have bloomed. Young Mistress Yan, would you go look at them and pick a lotus for me?”

This was obviously a pretext to send Xunqi away. Xunqi wasn’t foolish—she rose and left.

After she was gone, Shangguan Li finally spoke. “Did Xunqi paint that portrait?”

“Yes. You hold my secret, and I felt uneasy. After much thought, I decided to find a secret of yours. As luck would have it, I found one.” Yan Zhi’an was equally frank. “If you bury your secret in your bones, I’ll bury mine too.”

“Where is she?” Shangguan Li closed her eyes and tilted her head back with a soft sigh.

“Dead.”

Shangguan Li’s eyes flew open, shock impossible to hide. “I asked where she is.”

Yan Zhi’an said, “Dead.”

Shangguan Li simply stared at Yan Zhi’an, her gaze shifting from calm to panicked, and finally to fury. “Yan Zhi’an, in all our struggles, I have never involved family.”

“Right Prime Minister, you’re overthinking. She is indeed dead, but I didn’t kill her. Why would I? She fell ill and encountered a quack doctor who treated her to death. Xunqi, in her rage, beat the man to death. When the matter reached me, that’s how I discovered Xunqi.” Yan Zhi’an told her plainly.

“Dead… dead…” The Right Prime Minister murmured twice, her expression desolate. Suddenly, she spat out a mouthful of blood. Startled, Yan Zhi’an immediately rose to support her. “I truly had nothing to do with it. Xunqi was raised by her. She was in the Capital City—didn’t you know?”

Yan Zhi’an pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe away the blood. But even after the mouthful, blood continued to seep from the corner of Shangguan Li’s lips. Alarmed, Yan Zhi’an moved to fetch a physician. Shangguan Li grabbed her hand. “No need.”

“Very well.” Yan Zhi’an didn’t press. She wiped the corner of Shangguan Li’s mouth with the handkerchief and suddenly realized how much weight the woman had lost this past month—her night robe hung loosely on her frame.

After spitting the blood, Shangguan Li’s eyes were very still—so still, it seemed she had seen all the sorrows of the world and would not flinch.

Shangguan Li took the handkerchief from her hand and said calmly, “I’ll wash it and return it to you another day, Left Prime Minister.”

Still, Yan Zhi’an caught a trace of grief in her eyes. What was done was done; the woman was dead. What more could be said?

Yan Zhi’an said, “She raised Xunqi. Xunqi killed someone for her and ended up in prison, where she was tortured. When I first saw Xunqi, she was covered in wounds. I think the Madwoman genuinely cared for her, and Xunqi respected her in return.”

“You’re testing me.” Shangguan Li set the handkerchief aside and understood immediately. “You think my grief is because I pity her?”

Yan Zhi’an sat down. “I await your explanation.”

“There’s nothing to say.” Shangguan Li didn’t intend to speak. “I’m tired.”

Since she wouldn’t speak, Yan Zhi’an wouldn’t force her. Push too hard and drive the woman to death—that would defeat her purpose.

Yan Zhi’an had lost a handkerchief. She walked out of the bedroom and saw, in the distance, a girl running toward her. Dressed in red, bright as morning clouds, carrying two lotus flowers in her hands, her steps light—like a spirited sprite from the mountains. Lovely, amusing.

“Done talking?” Xunqi ran up and offered one of the lotuses to Yan Zhi’an. “This one’s bigger.”

She gave the larger lotus to her mother, not caring what anyone might say. She turned and handed the smaller one to a maidservant, the pink petals still bearing droplets of water, swaying with her steps—fresh and pleasant, lifting the mood.

Yan Zhi’an admired the lotus, then looked at the girl—rosy lips, white teeth. She smiled. “Let’s go home. I’ll have the kitchen make you lotus leaf chicken.”

“Great.” Xunqi nodded in agreement, then glanced toward the house. “How is the Right Prime Minister’s condition?”

“She won’t die.” Yan Zhi’an wasn’t worried in the least. If she died, she wouldn’t be Shangguan Li.

Yan Zhi’an led her daughter home, carrying the large lotus, content.

She’d promised her daughter lotus leaf chicken, so she instructed the kitchen. After a while, the steward came to report. “The lotus leaves in the mansion’s pond are still small. We can’t make lotus leaf chicken.”

The lotus flowers in the Right Prime Minister’s residence had all bloomed, yet the lotus leaves in the Left Prime Minister’s mansion couldn’t even wrap a chicken?

She turned to look at Xunqi, her gaze cool. Xunqi immediately cowered. “Never mind, I don’t want it. I don’t like lotus leaf chicken.”