After personally viewing the corpse, Lin Yanzhi insisted that Yu Qijian order the Imperial Secretariat to bring out all procedural records. Only after carefully verifying every detail did he finally give in, tears in his eyes.
Only then did Yu Qijian finally relax once everyone had left the palace.
The whole ordeal had taken quite a long time. By the time she looked outside again, the rain had already stopped. At the entrance, she saw Fang Jinxian with drooping eyelids, hands clasped behind his back, something unknown in his mouth as he chewed slowly, his entire posture showing faint fatigue and drowsiness.
He was actually sleepy?
Yu Qijian walked over and stopped in front of him.
The air still carried the damp scent of rain-soaked earth, mixed with the sandalwood incense burning inside the hall. Everything felt half real, half illusory.
“Quite a show of strength, Your Highness,” he said, lifting his eyelids to glance at her, his tone teasing.
“If I’m going to appease someone, I might as well do it thoroughly. It’s better than endless trouble and being picked at every day,” Yu Qijian replied. Then she deliberately praised him in a condescending tone: “Well done.”
Fang Jinxian fell silent.
He understood that she was praising him for executing everything perfectly—whatever she needed, the Imperial Secretariat produced it.
But her completely different demeanor reminded him of a wild cat he had once seen: after stealing fish, it arched its back and raised its tail, hissing fiercely at people, thinking itself intimidating, though it was nothing but skin and bones, easily subdued by anyone.
So she thought that obtaining the imperial seal meant she now had a strong backbone. Truly naïve.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Does Your Highness not know that even matters involving the imperial seal must still go through the Imperial Secretariat?”
Yu Qijian’s smile vanished.
At that moment, Zhao Yan came out from inside, his face full of sleepiness. “Mother Empress, Chief Eunuch, I wish to return and rest.”
Yu Qijian suppressed her reluctance in front of Fang Jinxian and bent down, her tone gentle as she stroked Zhao Yan’s head. “I still have matters to discuss with the Chief Eunuch. Why don’t you return with the palace servants and rest first?”
“Mm.” Zhao Yan glanced at Fang Jinxian, then back at her. “I want to hear a story.”
“I’ll come back soon. If you’re sleepy, sleep first and I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“Alright.”
As Zhao Yan left, he passed Fang Jinxian.
He was always respectful toward teachers and elders, so he nodded slightly. Fang Jinxian also lowered his head in return, the etiquette flawless.
The manners were impeccable—but in Yu Qijian’s eyes, he clearly looked like someone ready to overturn the palace at any moment.
She forced a fake smile. “Chief Eunuch, do you know that to get oxen and horses to work properly, you can’t just draw them pies in the air?”
Fang Jinxian seemed to understand most of it. He lowered his head and handed her a palm-sized porcelain box. “Have a candy to cool your temper?”
“You’re being this kind?” Yu Qijian eyed him suspiciously, then opened it and popped one into her mouth.
The moment it entered her mouth, she froze.
It was sour enough to make her grimace.
She stomped her foot in anger. “Fang Jinxian!”
But Fang Jinxian looked like a mischievous child who had succeeded in a prank, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
The candy rolled in his mouth as he explained lazily, “At first it tastes like sour plum skin, then it melts into honey sweetness, soothing the throat and heart.”
Indeed, after the sour coating faded, sweetness slowly emerged.
Yu Qijian was impressed. “You people already have this kind of craftsmanship? How is the sour coating made?”
Fang Jinxian straightened casually. “You may ask Mo Fang. His mother made it. It doesn’t last long—after a night it can’t be kept.”
“So you gave me leftovers? Not only do you draw pies in the air, you recycle scraps too. Truly a capitalist.”
“What is a capitalist?”
“An evil force that exploits laborers and squeezes the working class.”
“I am wrongly accused,” Fang Jinxian said calmly.
“Stop it!” Yu Qijian finally realized this man was genuinely bored with nothing better to do.
She returned to the main topic. “I don’t care how long the imperial seal procedures take. First, you must clear out all personnel from the Palace of Eternal Peace.”
“That may not be possible,” Fang Jinxian replied sincerely. “Once Yu Clan realizes their obedient daughter is ‘rebelling,’ they will come to the palace every few days to find you.”
“I meant your people.”
“That is even less possible.”
Yu Qijian turned and left in anger.
After a few steps, she turned back and declared fiercely, “If you don’t even meet basic interest demands, don’t expect me to work for you.”
Fang Jinxian watched her leave until her figure disappeared into the darkness.
The faint joy from earlier—caused by his little prank—vanished with the wind.
Even the candy had lost its taste.
He looked up at the dark sky and thought of her expression earlier: slightly disappointed, yet resigned.
She was like a plant with vitality.
Unlike the uniform flowers cultivated in this palace of red walls and green tiles—perhaps not intelligent enough, not fully thoughtful, but pure and unrefined.
To him, she was even somewhat foolish in many ways.
Yet she would happily celebrate a good meal, narrow her eyes when sunlight fell on her, treat servants without hierarchy, and bend when needed. Her words occasionally required thought, but after reflection, they were often quite interesting.
What kind of place had she grown up in?
Even knowing she had already exposed a fatal weakness, she still fearlessly demanded “rights” from him.
She did not seem to understand that this imperial palace was itself a massive cage—there was no such thing as “rights” here. Even he was trapped within it.
After a moment, Fang Jinxian let out a faint sigh and followed in the direction she had gone.
Perhaps to nurture a living plant, one could not only pour cold water—it also needed the occasional light of moon and sun slipping through.
Yu Qijian had just turned a corridor corner toward the imperial garden when she heard unhurried footsteps behind her.
“Your Highness,” Fang Jinxian’s voice followed at a measured distance. He signaled Shuanglan to step away, “I’ve thought about it. Your concerns are not without reason.”
Yu Qijian paused but did not turn around.
She was sensitive to hard pressure but responded better to softer approaches—Fang Jinxian seemed to be the opposite.
“If the people in the Palace of Eternal Peace are inconvenient for you, that is indeed improper,” he continued. “Tomorrow, I will remove all visible eyes.”
Yu Qijian tilted her head slightly. Moonlight outlined her sharp profile. “And then replace them with invisible ones?”
Fang Jinxian chuckled softly in the night.
“Your Highness thinks there are any places in this palace without eyes? The gardeners in the imperial garden, the cooks in the kitchens, even a minor eunuch beside His Majesty—who can guarantee none of them serve someone else?”
Yu Qijian lowered her gaze helplessly and sighed. “I understand. I just hope you stop watching me in such detail.”
The events of today had already warned her, though she had long been aware of it.
The Great Yu State might appear relatively open, but the ever-present eunuchs constantly reminded her that this was an imperial system that devoured people.
Even standing at the so-called top of the food chain, one was still bound and constrained.
Fang Jinxian looked at her in surprise. The usual laziness and sarcasm in his eyes faded, replaced with rare seriousness.
Yu Qijian felt uncomfortable under his gaze and turned her head away.
After a moment, he concluded:
“So she wasn’t foolish after all.”
Yu Qijian: “……Can you speak without insulting people all the time?”