Fang Jinxian suddenly curved his lips into a faint smile.
“If Your Majesty truly likes the Yunshao Troupe’s performances,” he said, “why not employ Manager Yue as a palace instructor? He could be responsible for rehearsing new plays for Your Majesty and His Majesty. It’s just that he would need to be… purified before entering the palace, in order to comply with regulations.”
The words “purified” were spoken lightly, almost casually.
Yet within his tone, there was a sharpness even he himself had not fully realized—something that spilled out like an ice drill, instantly piercing through the relatively relaxed atmosphere.
Yue Jilian’s face turned pale. He looked toward Yu Qijian. His lips moved slightly, but restrained by status, he lowered his head and dared not say anything.
Yu Qijian looked into those dark eyes and saw a depth she could not understand.
It did not feel like mockery or negotiation. It faintly resembled an uncontrollable probing.
What was he probing? Was there something wrong with Yue Jilian, or something that made Fang Jinxian suspicious?
Yu Qijian was uncertain—but the matter of “purification” was clearly inappropriate, so she replied cautiously, “Chief Eunuch, that is going too far.”
Zhao Yan’s clear voice broke the standoff.
“Mother Empress, Chief Eunuch,” he said, “I think watching plays is an elegant pastime, but one must not indulge in it excessively. Manager Yue’s performance was very good, and I was very happy watching it today. Chief Eunuch is also thinking of palace rules and safety. However, Manager Yue has done nothing wrong, and the suggestion of purification is indeed improper. In my view, since we have already rewarded the performance today, we should let Manager Yue leave the palace safely. If there is opportunity in the future, we can summon him again.”
Fang Jinxian lowered his eyes and nodded.
“His Majesty is thoughtful. This minister spoke wrongly.”
“Manager Yue, you have worked hard today. You may return and rest now,” Yu Qijian said.
Yue Jilian knelt deeply in gratitude.
“This commoner thanks His Majesty and the Empress Dowager for their grace. This commoner takes his leave.”
Yu Qijian also stood.
“Chief Eunuch, thank you for arranging everything today. I and His Majesty are somewhat tired and will return to the palace first.”
She left with Zhao Yan.
The mother and son walked away, speaking softly to each other, their posture intimate and natural.
Fang Jinxian stood alone before the gradually empty pavilion. The setting sun stretched his shadow long across the ground.
For the first time, he felt as though he did not understand himself.
The next day, Yu Qijian had intended to go to the Imperial Secretariat to ask about what had happened yesterday. However, just after waking, Shuanglan informed her that the Imperial Secretariat had already sent over the documents and she did not need to go.
In the following days, she handled official matters in the Palace of Eternal Peace. Fang Jinxian did not come, and she did not go looking for him either.
In any case, if anything happened, he would come and tell her. If he did not say anything, she would treat it as nothing—after all, they were allies. Allies needed to trust each other.
But he seemed very busy recently. Zhao Yan said there had been trouble among the court officials. Fang Jinxian only returned every evening to ask about Zhao Yan’s studies and daily life, and even Tutor Fu rarely had time for his lessons with him.
Yu Qijian almost forgot that Fang Jinxian was the Chief Eunuch assisting in governance. It was only natural that he should be busy to the point of not touching the ground.
When Zhao Yan finished his studies, she would go to Hong Palace to spend a few hours with him. The child liked flying kites and playing Lu Ban locks, and even the simple homemade Rubik’s cube she made was very much to his liking.
Life, though repetitive, had a kind of steady calmness. She liked this calmness.
Occasionally she would sit in the courtyard basking in the sun, eating whatever she wanted each day, no longer needing to prove anything, nor worrying about survival or livelihood. It was good. It was happiness.
By September, autumn had deepened, and the air carried a faint chill.
One morning, a palace servant reported that several old apricot trees in the northern garden had somehow turned yellow early. Their leaves had withered and fallen in great numbers whenever the wind blew.
Yu Qijian ordered them not to sweep the leaves yet. She changed into plain clothing and went alone to the northern garden.
She wanted a moment of elegance, and also a moment of peace. There were already too many people in the palace, and she sometimes felt uneasy because of it.
The northern garden was uninhabited. The red walls still stood tall, contrasting with the golden leaves covering the ground, creating a desolate beauty of fading prosperity.
Stepping on the thick layer of fallen leaves, the rustling sound echoed clearly in the empty courtyard. The air carried a slightly bitter scent of rotting vegetation mixed with the chill of autumn.
Yu Qijian was heading to the oldest apricot tree inside—the one Shuanglan had said was older than her.
When she entered the courtyard, she unexpectedly saw a tall figure beneath the tree.
What a coincidence.
The wind lifted the edge of his robe, emphasizing a quiet sense of solitude.
Fang Jinxian was looking up at the pale light filtering through the bare branches. Hearing footsteps, he turned around and met Yu Qijian’s smiling face without warning.
“Chief Eunuch,” she said, “are you also here to find some peace and quiet?”
It was clearly a plain and obedient face, yet when she smiled, it carried a resilient brightness—like someone who could survive even if the sky collapsed.
Because of this person, he had become strange. He no longer understood himself.
And yet she could still smile?
Fang Jinxian silently rebuked himself in irritation, though his expression remained unchanged as he calmly looked away and gave a faint acknowledgment.
Yu Qijian sat down on the steps.
“It feels like it’s been almost ten days since we last met. In this palace, it somehow feels like we’re miles apart. You look thinner. Your dark circles are worse too. Tsk, even someone with power gets this tired?”
Seeing that Fang Jinxian did not respond, she continued on her own.
“Come on, your ally is willing to listen to your troubles.”
Fang Jinxian could not bring himself to say anything, but he still sat beside her, leaving a slight distance between them. His posture was unusually relaxed.
“Is the new play still going to be performed?”
“It’s ready already? That fast?”
“The troupe said it’s very interesting.”
“Of course. Do you even need to ask? Yun Zhi will definitely like it.”
Fang Jinxian fell silent for a moment. “I will arrange for them to enter the palace.”
“Alright. But I wanted to ask you last time—does Yue Jilian have any issues? If it’s inconvenient, then he doesn’t have to come. I don’t want trouble.”
Fang Jinxian clearly knew that he could simply agree with her and ensure she would never see Yue Jilian again.
But he did not want to do that.
Nor did he want to let this matter escalate because of her.
To solve something, one must face it directly.
He was just a performer.
“No,” he said.
“Then I’m relieved. I recently sent gifts to the Yu Clan. I heard they’ve been quite quiet lately.”
“Not entirely quiet,” he replied.
“I’ve thought of a method for a permanent solution,” Yu Qijian said, rolling up her sleeves.
Fang Jinxian listened quietly, eyes lowered, not looking at her. “Speak.”