Yu Qijian glanced again at the corpse on the ground. “You want me to deal with the Lin Family?”
“Not deal with them.” Fang Jinxian corrected lightly. “Pacify them.”
“How exactly am I supposed to pacify them? Tell them the Noble Consort suddenly died of heart failure in my palace?”
“That is indeed a good explanation,” Fang Jinxian replied. “Proper, and impossible to verify.”
Yu Qijian fell silent for a moment.
Fang Jinxian tilted his head slightly, studying her. “Why is Your Highness sweating so much?”
“I’m having a stress reaction.”
The standoff continued for a moment. Then Fang Jinxian calmly took out a brocade box from the drawer and opened it.
Inside lay a small jade seal.
The carving was exquisite—there was no doubt. It was the imperial phoenix seal.
“Fine. I’ll go.” Yu Qijian said immediately.
A faint smile flickered in Fang Jinxian’s eyes. “Your Highness is wise.”
He closed the box—but before he could hand it over, Yu Qijian snatched it away.
She held it tightly like treasure.
Their fingers brushed briefly. Fang Jinxian withdrew his hand and unconsciously rubbed his fingertips.
“I’ll go,” she added, “but how do you guarantee the Lin Family won’t tear me apart?”
“It is raining heavily and the ground is slippery. I am worried Your Highness may fall. I will accompany you.”
He was worried about nothing.
Yu Qijian reluctantly walked out. Shuanglan hurried over with an umbrella. “Your Highness…”
She stopped mid-sentence upon seeing Fang Jinxian behind her.
Fang Jinxian reached out.
Shuanglan froze and instinctively handed him the umbrella.
He opened it and held it over Yu Qijian’s head, walking beside her into the rain.
Mo Fang glanced at them and said, “Hurry and follow.”
Then he went inside to handle the corpse.
Someone still needed to see her off properly.
The rain grew heavier. Even a large umbrella could not keep her skirt dry.
Yu Qijian walked in silence. Fang Jinxian stayed half a step behind her, yet too close—almost brushing against her body.
After a while, she finally asked, “So what exactly do I need to say?”
“Nothing. Just act as you see fit.”
Then why even hold the umbrella?
She glanced at his pale fingers gripping the handle. She had no mood to admire them—only wished he would stop these meaningless gestures.
“Prepare a sedan chair next time,” she said stiffly.
“I will note it down,” Fang Jinxian replied easily.
The Lin Family had been summoned to the Imperial Study Hall.
At the entrance, Fang Jinxian returned the umbrella to Shuanglan and instructed, “Straighten the Empress Dowager’s appearance.”
Shuanglan obeyed immediately, noticing only now that Yu Qijian’s collar was slightly disordered. She quickly adjusted it and wiped away the faint sweat on her forehead.
After observing this, Fang Jinxian spoke again. “Does Your Highness intend to enter holding the phoenix seal?”
His tone was cold, carrying faint dissatisfaction.
Yu Qijian glanced at him. The sarcastic retort on her tongue was swallowed back when she noticed his shoulder—already soaked through.
Fang Jinxian always carried an indifferent ease, as if nothing in the world could affect him.
She looked away and handed the phoenix seal to Shuanglan, then stepped inside.
Inside, a group of people was already kneeling before Zhao Yan, voices full of grief and pressure, demanding a clear explanation from the young Emperor.
“Empress Dowager has arrived—”
The Lin Family turned sharply toward the door.
Zhao Yan finally relaxed slightly and stood up. “Mother Empress.”
Yu Qijian stepped over the threshold. Her skirt was soaked halfway up, clinging to her legs, making her feel cold.
Fang Jinxian remained outside under the eaves, arms folded, leaning casually against the frame—watching the scene unfold as if it had nothing to do with him.
The rain formed a gray curtain behind him. His gaze was calm, almost detached.
Everyone bowed.
Yu Qijian said evenly, “Please rise.”
Lin Yanzhi instead knocked his head deeply to the ground. “Empress Dowager, my daughter—how did she die? Please give this old minister a clear answer.”
He was the Chief Censor, leader of the court’s moral officials.
When the Late Emperor was young and married for love, he had taken only the Lin daughter into the harem to balance the Yu Family’s influence. The Lin Family’s reputation for integrity was precisely why they had been elevated.
Now his kneeling itself was already an accusation.
“Please accept my condolences,” Yu Qijian said solemnly. “It is cold and rainy. Someone, bring seats.”
Servants quickly brought benches.
“I dare not sit,” Lin Yanzhi said, voice trembling with restraint. “I only ask Your Highness to explain—why was she fine in the daytime, yet by night she lay in a coffin? Sudden heart failure—does that explanation convince anyone? Can it comfort the spirit of the Late Emperor?”
“I have already requested the Imperial Secretariat to present the records of the Noble Consort’s movements today and the time she summoned physicians. Everything can be verified.”
Yu Qijian’s voice was soft but clear. “As for heart failure, the imperial physicians have confirmed it—emotional distress, prolonged grief, exhaustion of the heart leading to sudden collapse.”
“Minister Lin, the Noble Consort had accompanied the Late Emperor for many years. Since his passing, her grief has been widely known. Is this emotional distress truly unfounded? As her father, have you not noticed her sorrow? Have you not felt it yourself?”
Lin Yanzhi’s eyes reddened.
Yu Qijian immediately knew she had struck the right tone.
She continued gently but firmly, “You are known for your integrity. We believe your love for your daughter is sincere. But this loss is a great tragedy. His Majesty has already suffered the loss of elders.”
Zhao Yan’s eyes reddened at once.
Yu Qijian glanced sideways—he was unexpectedly very cooperative.
She continued even more smoothly.
“If this matter causes resentment among loyal officials, it would also harm the long-standing bond between the Late Emperor and Minister Lin.”
“The Noble Consort was virtuous. In recognition of her merits, I have requested His Majesty to posthumously confer her the title of Honorable Noble Consort. The funeral shall follow the highest rites, and His Majesty will personally write the memorial text. The Lin Family will also receive further imperial favor.”
Lin Yanzhi’s anger was completely blocked—neither rising nor falling.
Continuing to argue would gain nothing.
Truth could no longer be verified, and that made everything more difficult.
He turned to glance at the silent figure outside the hall.
After a long silence, exhaustion replaced anger. He bowed deeply to Zhao Yan.
“This old minister… thanks His Majesty and the Empress Dowager for their grace. I only request permission to see my daughter one last time.”
Yu Qijian recalled the corpse—aside from the shocked expression, there were no visible wounds, only fine palace robes. It did resemble sudden heart failure.
Fang Jinxian had already planned every step.
She nodded.
Permission granted.