The Empress pressed him sharply, “Could you bear to? What, now that she’s thrown herself into the Emperor’s arms, you’re jealous, aren’t you? Could you really bring yourself to “
Lu Yunjian cut her off, his gaze piercing.
“Your Majesty, she was mine. She was supposed to be only mine. It was on your orders that I gave her up that I offered her to the Crown Prince. From that moment, everything spiraled out of control. And now you blame me? Then who should I blame?”
The Empress fell silent, lowering her eyes in wordless guilt.
She had indeed believed A wu’s beauty was a weapon.
But behind her schemes, there had also been unspoken, selfish motives.
Lu Yunjian thought of A wu just now.
“I saw her earlier. More beautiful than ever-like a blooming flower. When she looked at me, there was nothing but anger in her eyes. She’s long forgotten she once cared for me. Now, her heart belongs only to the Emperor.”
The Empress lifted her cold gaze.
“So, you regret it.”
Lu Yunjian admitted bitterly, “Yes, I regret it. But what good does that do?”
As he spoke, a vein pulsed violently at his temple.
“I was married once, but I never touched that wife. A wu was the only one I ever wanted. And now, she’s no longer mine.”
The Empress awkwardly averted her eyes.
The chamber fell into heavy silence, broken only by Lu Yunjian’s ragged breathing.
After a long pause, Lu Yunjian rubbed his forehead wearily.
“Enough. Let’s discuss official matters. Recently, His Majesty allocated additional funds to the coastal defense garrisons in the East Sea.”
The Empress frowned.
“Isn’t that the annual allocation?”
Lu Yunjian sighed, “Your Majesty, I sense something different this time.”
The Great Hui Dynasty’s coastal defenses comprised three branches: the coastal garrisons, hereditary maritime households, and local naval forces.
The Zhen’an Marquisate had overseen the East Sea navy for generations, commanding all ships and troops under the Lu family’s authority.
In contrast, the coastal garrisons and local naval forces were directly controlled by the imperial court.
Since the dynasty’s founding, the Zhen’an Marquisate had monopolized the East Sea navy, wielding unrivaled power.
The coastal garrisons and local forces paled in comparison.
About two or three years after Emperor Jingxi assumed direct rule, following a pirate attack on the coast, the emperor allocated military funds to the coastal garrisons to build several 500-ton official ships.
At the time, it seemed like a routine measure-one the Zhen’an Marquisate paid little attention to.
Yet from then on, Emperor Jingxi began sending annual funds to the East Sea coastal garrisons.
Lu Yunjian remained uneasy about the matter and secretly investigated, even sending people to infiltrate the Coastal Defense Garrison to uncover the truth.
That Coastal Defense Garrison had gradually expanded over the years.
Just a few years prior, they had even built inspection offices and beacon towers among the coastal garrisons.
Two years ago, when the East Sea suffered a disaster, the emperor allocated five hundred thousand taels of silver from the national treasury -two hundred thousand for disaster relief, one hundred thousand for constructing defensive embankments and bridges along the coast.
And the remaining two hundred thousand conveniently flowed into the local East Sea navy, further expanding their fleet.
Every move Emperor Jingxi made seemed justified, never overtly conspicuous, yet over the years, he had poured vast sums into the East Sea navy and the Coastal Defense Garrison.
That silver transformed into warships and scattered along the East Sea coast, becoming an ever- present net in the emperor’s hands—a hidden sword waiting in the shadows.
Lu Yunjian felt suffocated.
He turned to the empress and said, “This time, His Majesty has also reorganized the Coastal Defense Garrison’s layout and assigned several young military officers.”
The empress frowned.
“Oh?”
Lu Yunjian explained in detail.
At first, the empress listened calmly, but as he continued, her expression darkened.
Lu Yunjian smiled faintly while saying, “Your Majesty, the emperor didn’t just start laying his plans now. Looking back, he must have been scheming from the moment he agreed to marry you. The depth of an emperor’s cunning is unfathomable.”
In truth, even during the late emperor’s reign, there had been intentions to weaken the hereditary coastal naval forces, but for various reasons, it never came to pass.
Later, when the late emperor fell critically ill, the Marquis of Zhen’an entered the palace for an audience.
No one knew what they discussed in those final moments, but the outcome was clear the late emperor’s final decree commanded the Marquis of Zhen’an’s eldest daughter to enter the imperial capital as a candidate for the Eastern Palace.
At the same time, Lu Yunjian was granted the Emperor’s Jade Token, ensuring that even the sovereign of Dahui could not act rashly against the Lu family as long as the token remained.
That marriage and the jade token had protected the Marquis of Zhen’an’s household for eighteen years.
But now, it seemed Emperor Jingxi’s ambitions would not tolerate them any longer.
He never openly defied the late emperor’s decree, yet he had been subtly and silently eroding the Lu family’s power.
The empress sneered.
“It seems he’s been quite busy lately, accomplishing much.”
Even Furu, who had served him for years, had been casually dismissed.
Lu Yunjian narrowed his eyes.
“Actually, there’s no need to rush. He’s still weaving his net-it’s not yet complete. So we still have time.”
***
After returning, A wu quietly stored away the rare overseas jade ornaments, deciding never to wear them again.
Now that she had entered the palace and become a noble consort, Emperor Jingxi was not overly stingy-she could surely obtain finer things in the future.
As for the minor quarrel with Princess Dening, she naturally would never mention it to Emperor Jingxi and even warned her maids not to breathe a word of it.
For a ruler as burdened with state affairs as Emperor Jingxi, he would likely only visit her occasionally in the future and would hardly notice such trivial matters as jewelry.
The incident would fade away unnoticed.
Sure enough, Emperor Jingxi did not visit Langhua Palace in the following two days.
A wu wasn’t particularly disappointed though she longed for the emperor’s favor, the rigid etiquette of the palace still unnerved her.
She began learning the qin.
After listening to a lengthy lecture from the music master about how mastering the instrument was not just about playing melodies but also cultivating one’s character…
This was probably the tacit understanding between lovers.
Then, the conversation turned to some master musicians.
It turned out that several of today’s major schools of qin playing actually originated from the imperial lineage-even Emperor Jingxi was deeply skilled in the art.
Now that A wu was just beginning to learn, she first familiarized herself with the general schools, finger techniques, and musical theory.
Since she had never studied it before, she found it quite interesting at first.
Aside from learning the qin, because the Empress Dowager had specifically mentioned that she should attend lectures given by the palace women officials, she had no choice but to go.
Concubine Hui happily accompanied her.
The lectures were held in the Chengyan Hall, where the instructing court lady had her hair tied up in a simple bun and wore a jacket and skirt in a “field-pattern” style—a design more commonly seen on men’s robes and rarely worn by women.
The attendees were all imperial consorts, noble ladies, and talented women from the inner court, along with some palace women officials.
These officials could study, and if they passed the examinations, they could become female scholars, then female historians, and eventually palace officials the best among them could even rise to become heads of the Six Offices with official seals.
The imperial harem was vast, requiring layers of administration just like governing the realm.
And since the inner court was mostly women, though eunuchs existed, some tasks were still unsuitable for them.
Thus, there were many female officials in the palace, who could secure a stable position for themselves here.
The customs of Dahui weren’t overly conservative, but for women, making a living independently without marriage wasn’t easy.
Becoming a palace official was one viable path.
Not bad.
In fact, being an imperial consort was also an option-treating attending the emperor as a job, one could live comfortably.
Now that the emperor rarely visited the inner quarters, even the duty of attending him wasn’t necessary.
One could simply consider themselves part of the imperial household, receiving monthly allowances.
Moreover, the emperor, the Empress Dowager, and the Empress weren’t the type to resort to violence-everything followed rules.
Though the palace had many regulations, as long as one learned and adhered to them, they could secure their place.
So, for consorts and female officials, if they didn’t wish to marry and live an ordinary life, making a living in the palace was far better than outside more comfortable, dignified, and clean.
They could even learn skills, so that if they ever left the palace, they would have a trade to rely on.
For instance, A wu once heard a selected attendant mention that a former palace official, after leaving the court, was hired at a high price by an outside family to help educate their daughters.
Today’s lecture was on The General Treatise on Calculation, teaching how to keep accounts-recording loans, tracking expenses, and so on.
At first, A wu could follow along, but soon she became utterly lost.
The bookkeeping was far more complicated than she had imagined.
She strained to listen, forcing herself to concentrate, but the more she tried, the sleepier she became.
Having stayed up late the night before, she was exhausted, and her mind grew increasingly muddled.
After enduring what felt like an eternity, she was finally free.
On the way back, Concubine Hui asked how her studies had gone.
A wu groaned, “If I could actually master this, I might really qualify as a female scholar!”
Consort Hui covered her lips with a light chuckle and teased, “You’d better study properly. What will you do if you can’t understand account books in the future?”
A wu replied, “Why would I need to look at account books? It’s just fifty taels of silver every month-no need to check the books.”
Consort Hui tilted her head, unable to hold back a laugh at her lack of ambition.
“I see His Majesty has high hopes for you, expecting you to open shops and make a fortune in business. At the very least, you should learn to use an abacus and keep accounts!”
A wu sighed, “Dear sister, stop teasing me. I could never manage that!”
Consort Hui smiled deeply at her but said no more.
Who would have thought that, upon returning that evening, Emperor Jingxi would visit Langhua Palace?
Fortunately, they wouldn’t be dining together today.
A wu was relieved-one less hassle.
Tonight’s dinner included an extra dish: turtle soup with osmanthus.
Truly befitting a gift from the Empress Dowager, the broth was rich, and the turtle meat tender.
A wu ate to her heart’s content, leaving more than half for Yilan and Weilan.
The two young maids beamed with delight.
Seeing their happiness, A wu felt pleased with herself and rewarded the rest of the dishes to the servants below.
The eunuchs and maids in Langhua Palace were all young, not yet worldly or overly shrewd.
Though somewhat naive, A wu rather liked them.
The palace was free of scheming, filled instead with harmony-they even played together in the courtyard occasionally.
This had puzzled A wu before.
Shouldn’t there be a seasoned matron to teach her courtly manners?
Emperor Jingxi hadn’t arranged for one either.
Just as she was lost in thought, hurried footsteps announced the arrival of Emperor Jingxi.
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