“According to protocol, the funeral will be held three days from now. At that time, people may visit the residence to pay their respects,” Gu Qingxing said slowly, looking toward Jun Heng, who sat in the main seat.
“In my opinion, Your Majesty should go personally,” he added.
Gu Jiao frowned in confusion. “Why make such a big deal out of it?”
An emperor attending a funeral personally… since Jun Heng ascended the throne, it seemed this had only happened once before, for the old General Mu.
Gu Qingxing looked at her and explained, “It’s not because of that, it’s just…”
He paused, rare uncertainty flickering across his face, as if unsure how to continue.
Jun Heng took up the explanation: “The one overseeing the Fu family’s affairs is Yan Chenyan.”
Yan Chenyan? Gu Jiao’s eyes widened. Suddenly, a whole drama of rival officials vying for power flashed in her mind.
Yan Chenyan, the current Right Prime Minister, was only seven years older than her and had entered the court at almost the same age as her father did. He was often compared to Gu Qingxing.
However, unlike Gu Qingxing, Yan Chenyan’s position was an exceptional appointment granted by Emperor Zhaoyuan, bypassing traditional rules.
The previous Right Prime Minister had been a close relative of Yan Chenyan.
Hearing this, Gu Jiao could not help but marvel again at the late emperor’s talent for recognizing capable men. She had heard that when the late emperor first saw Yan Chenyan at the Right Prime Minister’s residence, he took notice of him, consulting him on political matters rather than avoiding him.
Yan Chenyan did not disappoint. During the flood in Zhangzhou, he proposed governance measures similar to Gu Qingxing’s.
When the old Grand Chancellor passed away, the Right Prime Minister’s seat was vacant. While many speculated about the late emperor’s intentions, he appointed Yan Chenyan.
To inherit the seat—and it was the Right Prime Minister’s seat—was unprecedented, showing just how much the late emperor valued him.
Of course, even if Yan Chenyan was outstanding, in Gu Jiao’s heart, he could not compare to her father, so she hadn’t paid him much attention.
But now, if the Fu family belonged to Yan Chenyan’s faction, she instinctively thought of factional rivalries.
Gu Qingxing, clearly seeing her thoughts, immediately corrected her: “Don’t overthink it. Prime Minister Yan is upright; even I feel inadequate compared to him.”
Huai’an, standing behind Jun Heng, also smiled faintly and glanced at Jun Heng’s expression. She reminded him: “Your Majesty, there’s more than one way to bind two families together.”
“Marriage?” Gu Jiao thought for a moment, then tentatively guessed.
She recalled that Yan Chenyan didn’t seem to be married yet.
“The eldest daughter of the Fu family, Fu Ling, has admired the Right Prime Minister since she was young,” Huai’an said.
“The Yan and Fu families were both quite satisfied with this match. However, Miss Fu has been frail, so the marriage never happened.”
Gu Qingxing said matter-of-factly, “Now that Lord Fu has passed, the Fu family has no one to maintain their influence in court. Naturally, Prime Minister Yan will have to assist more.”
Gu Jiao understood at once—no wonder her father said the Fu family first informed Yan Chenyan; there was this connection.
“In that case, the number of people visiting the Fu residence to pay respects in three days will likely be considerable,” she mused.
Jun Heng lowered his gaze. “I will not go.”
“Why?” Gu Jiao asked in confusion.
She knew he disliked noisy scenes, but this was an important matter—a prime opportunity to show favor to Prime Minister Yan.
Jun Heng looked at her and stroked the teacup beside him.
Huai’an sighed lightly. “Left Prime Minister, you must know the rumors circulating widely in court.”
“Many are already hoping Prime Minister Yan will replace you.”
Upon hearing this, Gu Jiao immediately understood the stakes.
Gu Qingxing’s position was effectively second only to the emperor, but that also made him a target for resentment.
During turbulent times in the Left Prime Minister’s household, ordinary officials could not threaten Gu Qingxing, but Yan Chenyan…
If Jun Heng compromised by attending the Fu household, opportunists might see the Left Prime Minister’s power as waning and turn to Yan Chenyan.
A Left Prime Minister who could not command respect was as good as useless.
This, however, would allow her father to retire in peace…
“Yan Chenyan may have no ulterior motives, but that doesn’t mean the Fu family doesn’t,” Jun Heng said, glancing at Gu Qingxing’s dampened coat. “I hear the Left Prime Minister stayed two hours at the Fu residence last night, without even a cup of hot tea?”
“The Fu family still considers themselves too important,” Gu Qingxing said with a faint smile.
Gu Jiao immediately sat up, frowning.
Gu Qingxing chuckled. “These are trivial matters. Your Majesty need not worry. Prime Minister Yan is a talented youth; you should make use of him.”
Gu Jiao lowered her head and thought for a moment. “Actually, this isn’t such a bad thing.”
Seeing her expression, she smiled slyly. “It may not be suitable for Your Majesty to go alone, but what if someone accompanies you?”
“Father, you’ll go with him, right?”
Gu Qingxing immediately understood her meaning. He frowned and shook his head disapprovingly.
He did not wish to use the emperor’s authority to influence matters, and after serving in the court for so long, he also did not want Lord Fu’s funeral to be disrupted.
Jun Heng suddenly said, “Lord Fu still had an heir, didn’t he? The position of Minister of Changjin Temple is vacant; perhaps another term of succession would not hurt.”
“Not appropriate,” Gu Qingxing immediately said. “If Your Majesty wants to comfort the Fu family, there are other ways. The official position… involves too much; it shouldn’t be decided lightly.”
“Others may not see it that way,” Gu Jiao said, resting her head on her hand. “If the Fu family brings it up at the funeral, does Your Majesty really intend to refuse?”
“After all, the upright Left Prime Minister won’t be there to offer counsel.”
Gu Qingxing immediately realized that Jun Heng and Gu Jiao were working in tandem to trap him.
“Huai’an, make the arrangements. For the next few days, I will stay at the Gu residence,” Jun Heng instructed, turning to Huai’an.
Gu Qingxing, about to speak, paused, glanced at Jun Heng, and sighed lightly, saying no more.
Gu Jiao could not help but smile, her gaze toward Jun Heng now carrying anticipation.
“Then… may I stay a few extra days?”
Jun Heng didn’t look at her. “If you wish to return to the palace, you may leave now.”
Gu Jiao hurriedly approached, serving him a cup of tea. “That won’t do. Later, I’ll accompany you to choose a suitable courtyard.”
“The Western Garden will do,” Jun Heng said calmly.
At this, the others were momentarily stunned.
Gu Qingxing was the first to react. “The Western Garden hasn’t been occupied for a long time. If Your Majesty moves there, it may be an offense.”
The Western Garden had once been Jun Heng’s residence when he lived in the Left Prime Minister’s household.
Gu Jiao cleared her throat. “Actually, other courtyards in our residence are quite nice too. Perhaps—”
“I haven’t visited in a long time. I wish to revisit the old place,” Jun Heng said.
Gu Jiao: …
Revisiting the old place would be fine—if she hadn’t, in a fit of anger, ordered it converted into a kitchen…
And moved the vegetable garden as well.
The emperor ultimately could not fulfill his wish to revisit the old place. From a distance, seeing smoke rising from the Western Garden, he wisely stopped in his tracks.
Gu Jiao quickly avoided his gaze, opening her mouth in surprise. “Ah, what’s going on here?”
“Father, when did you move our little kitchen?” she asked.
She frowned naturally. “Even if you moved it, it should have taken up my courtyard. How could you touch His Majesty’s old residence?”
Gu Qingxing: …
“Last year, there were several days of continuous rain, and the eaves of the Western Garden collapsed. After repairs, it’s no longer suitable to live in,” Gu Qingxing said calmly, not spoiling her mood. “But none of the utensils His Majesty once used were damaged, so I had them placed in the Northern Garden.”
She was genuinely surprised. She had been so focused on venting her anger that she hadn’t cared where things were casually left when they were moved—but her father had preserved everything properly.
Jun Heng’s gaze shifted from Gu Jiao to Gu Qingxing, showing a trace of interest.
After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Left Prime Minister, please lead the way.”
Although Gu Jiao rarely entered the Northern Garden, she immediately noticed that it had been carefully arranged.
Her father… had he anticipated Jun Heng would come?
The Northern Garden was not large, but the rooms were spacious. As she looked around, she was surprised to find the furnishings strikingly familiar.
The desks and tables were all made of golden-thread nanmu wood. If she remembered correctly, the scratch on the writing desk was one she had left herself.
From what she could see on Jun Heng’s face, the rest of the furniture seemed largely unchanged as well.
Even she felt a faint sense of revisiting an old place.
“You’ve been thoughtful, Left Prime Minister,” Jun Heng said, running his fingers over the neatly arranged books on the shelves.
“All of this was arranged on a whim back then,” Gu Qingxing replied with a smile. “I never expected His Majesty would make use of it again.”
Gu Jiao casually flipped through the slightly yellowed sheets of rice paper on the desk, sighing softly.
Perhaps she was influenced by the wistful expression on Jun Heng’s face—she too felt a trace of melancholy.
“I remember there were a few fruit trees in the Western Garden, keeping the courtyard from feeling empty all year. Later, we should plant some here in the Northern Garden as well,” she said, smiling at Jun Heng when his gaze met hers. “Have Huai’an arrange it, and add the utensils you’re used to—how does that sound?”
Jun Heng’s eyes narrowed slightly, his tone stiff: “If the eaves collapse again, won’t moving everything be troublesome?”
Gu Jiao was momentarily confused—how could the eaves collapse? Then she remembered her father’s explanation.
The Western Garden was uninhabitable because the eaves had collapsed…
Alright, it seemed the emperor had taken a subtle grudge.
“Not to worry. I’ll have someone reinforce the roof so it won’t collapse again,” she said, giving Huai’an a meaningful look.
Huai’an smiled in agreement. “This place is far more secluded than the Western Garden. Since Your Majesty will stay here at the Gu residence for a few days, shall I fetch your utensils from the palace?”
Jun Heng glanced at Gu Jiao and sat down by the table. “You decide, I’ll follow.”
Seeing Huai’an bow and leave, Gu Jiao coughed. “Shall I take my leave too?”
Jun Heng did not respond. Gu Qingxing approached and sat in another seat, watching Gu Jiao tilt her head toward the door.
She flashed her father a charming smile before slipping out.
Inside, Gu Qingxing’s gentle voice called out:
“Yesterday, Jiao Jiao returned and spoke with me.”
Gu Jiao paused, briefly debating whether to linger and eavesdrop. But seeing Gu Qingxing’s all-knowing gaze, she reluctantly left the courtyard.
She couldn’t worry her father—let him be.
…
Only a month had passed since her return, yet the Left Prime Minister’s residence already felt a little lacking.
Gu Jiao picked up a pine needle, wandering aimlessly.
She stopped abruptly when she came upon a tightly closed courtyard gate.
Glancing around, she twitched at the corner of her eye.
Had life been too comfortable recently? Otherwise, how could she have taken a wrong turn in her own residence?
Wrong or not, this place…
The entire Gu residence, aside from her own rooms, she had visited here the most.
——The residence of Xie Chongyu.
She turned to leave, deciding to act as if she had never come.
Though she thought this, her hand seemed to move on its own, resting on the gate.
After all, this was still her family’s territory.
Gu Jiao hesitated for a moment, then gritted her teeth and pushed the gate open.
Xie Chongyu had his own mansion in the capital. After Xie Ji’s death, the late emperor, to show favor, had granted him a residence.
He rarely stayed there, preferring the Gu residence.
Only in recent months, preparing for the marriage with her, had he begun furnishing the place.
No matter how late, he always returned to the Gu residence to spend the night.
Even Gu Qingxing joked that compared to Gu Jiao, Xie Chongyu seemed like the one unwilling to part with a daughter about to be married.
Now, snow covered the courtyard, scattered with a few withered gray leaves. Compared to other parts of the residence, it felt slightly neglected.
Gu Jiao stepped up onto the porch, her footprints shallow in the snow.
She lifted her hand to the door, inhaled deeply, and pushed it open.
“Creak—”
The door was unlocked. Inside, the arrangement was untouched, unchanged, entirely familiar.
Even the bed held the pale moon-colored robe he often wore.
It was as if the owner had only stepped out briefly and would return soon.
Yet the layer of dust and the calligraphy on the floor clearly told her that he had not been here for some time.
She stood at the doorway, feeling a sudden ache in her eyes.
Sighing softly, Gu Jiao bent to pick up the calligraphy on the floor. The brushstrokes were vigorous and elegant, faintly carrying traces of Gu Qingxing’s style.
He had personally guided her father… seven years…
Not long, yet long enough to occupy nearly half of her memory.
Rolling up the calligraphy, she put it away carefully, closed the windows, ignoring the dust, and sat wearily on the bed.
Her expression was complex as she looked at the neatly folded garments. The smile on her lips had vanished. She leaned against the bed and quietly closed her eyes.
The fabric in her hands was cold to the touch, as if it had been soaked in snow.