Chapter 9

Li Hechun hurried along with short, quick steps, struggling to keep pace with the Emperor as he returned to the Qianyuan Palace. He couldn't tell if it was just his imagination, but the further he followed, the more distant the Emperor’s back seemed to become.

It was over. The Emperor was clearly furious, struggling to suppress an explosive rage that made him want to clear his desk of everything on it.

While Li Hechun maintained the composed demeanor of a Chief Eunuch, his inner bitterness was overflowing. He longed to drown the ministers of the outer court, especially that man, Lord Chu Wenjing!

The case of Consort Zhen had caused such an uproar back then, eventually entangling the late Empress, that it had to be transferred from the inner palace to the outer court. Not a single civil or military official had dared to step forward to take the case. Why? Everyone knew why.

Who could have guessed that two years later, some reckless fool would suddenly emerge to dig up this dusty, old case?

Lord Chu might have enjoyed his moment of boldness, but it left a lowly servant like him to weather the storm. It was enough to make one’s heart ache with frustration. As Li Hechun cursed the meddlesome Lord Chu in his heart, he used his eyes to intimidate the maids and eunuchs serving in the Qianyuan Palace.

They had better stay sharp today. If any trouble broke out, even he wouldn't be able to protect them!

Upon arriving at the main hall of the Qianyuan Palace, the Chengtian Hall, Li Hechun felt a deep sense of despair, yet his hands moved with practiced efficiency. He shooed away the attendants and shut the palace doors behind him, bracing himself with every ounce of his spirit for the Emperor’s impending fury.

The figure in the dragon robes and imperial crown stopped abruptly beside the dragon desk, just as expected. However, the scene of items being swept to the floor in a rage never materialized.

The Emperor’s face was dark and gloomy, but there was no sign of anger. In a cold, stiff voice, he uttered two words: "Come out."

Li Hechun stepped forward, trembling. "This servant is here."

"Not you," the Emperor frowned. "Did you hear anything in the Golden Throne Hall earlier? The sound of a child?"

Li Hechun was startled. The Golden Throne Hall was where the court met for political affairs—where would a child's voice come from? The youngest prince, the First Prince, was already fifteen; his voice was in that awkward stage of breaking, unforgettable for its unpleasantness. Moreover, Lord Chu’s stunt today had made the atmosphere of the court meeting icy; the First Prince had been cowering in the corner, not daring to make a sound!

Could it be that one of the princes had sneaked into the Golden Throne Hall to eavesdrop? Only the Ninth Prince, favored by His Majesty, would dare such a thing. But... it made no sense that the Emperor wouldn't recognize the Ninth Prince’s voice.

Li Hechun’s mind raced through a thousand thoughts in those few seconds. Shamefully, he shook his head. "This servant is old and hard of hearing; I did not hear any child's voice."

So, the voice of the child who had demanded to see the memorials was something only he could hear. The Emperor withdrew his gaze, unsurprised.

When he first heard the voice, the Emperor had been immersed in rage and thought it was just tinnitus from his anger. But as the voice sounded again and again, and none of the ministers showed any reaction, he guessed that he alone could hear it. He had hurriedly adjourned the court and returned to the Qianyuan Palace—partly to give Chu Wenjing the cold shoulder, and partly to interrogate the voice in his own mind.

Yet, the voice that had appeared so suddenly had just as suddenly vanished. A man who respected but did not fear the supernatural, the Emperor’s first reaction was a conspiracy theory: Whose child did the voice belong to?

Legend had it that those with profound internal energy could transmit their voices secretly. If someone were deliberately making a sound only he could hear, it must be to gain his attention or approval. A person capable of such voice mimicry must have a motive. The only children in the palace were the princes. If someone wanted to mimic one convincingly, it would take time—the two must be close and familiar with each other. Which prince had a martial arts expert by his side? Who was the mastermind? What was the goal? Was it a frame-up, or an attempt to use supernatural claims to incite unrest?

Logically, the Emperor suspected the princes and the families behind them, narrowing his focus to princes whose age matched the voice.

Those over twelve could basically be ruled out, as could those under five. That left the Fifth through the Ninth. Who was it?

The Ninth’s voice was too familiar; it wasn't him.
The Sixth had a slight stutter; it wasn't him.
The Fifth was steady and introverted, not fond of talking; it was possible.
The Eighth... he had little impression of him; it was possible.
And then... there was the Seventh, born to Consort Zhen. They hadn't met in two years; his face was a blur in the Emperor’s memory, let alone his voice.

Li Hechun secretly observed the Emperor. Seeing His Majesty standing before the desk, frowning for a long time in deep thought, he didn't expect the sudden question: "What has the Seventh been doing lately?"

Why would His Majesty suddenly ask about the Seventh Prince? Could it be about Consort Zhen’s case...? Li Hechun clicked his tongue in his heart, silently lighting a candle for his many colleagues.

As the Emperor’s Chief Eunuch, Li Hechun was naturally sharp-eared and keen-eyed. News from inside and outside the palace passed through his ears; he knew what he should and shouldn't know. That was why the ladies of the palace and the lords of the court were so eager to send him silver.

He knew all the dirty secrets of the palace clearly, but since the Emperor didn't want to hear them, he was sensible enough to stay silent. Now that the Emperor was asking, he would not hide anything.

Whether Consort Zhen’s case was reopened or not, a group of people in the palace were destined for bad luck, and the Seventh Prince’s status was bound to change. After all, he was still a prince.

Li Hechun quickly masked his expression, organized his thoughts, and reported with his head bowed and eyes lowered.

Ultimately, the dragon desk in Chengtian Hall did not escape its fate of being cleared.

*

Meanwhile, at the Cining Palace, Lu Bingzhu had already returned. The Empress Dowager had taken a nap, and upon waking, had received two Consorts who had rushed into the palace to inquire about the news after the morning court session dragged on.

By the time the guests were dismissed and the breakfast Lu Bingzhu had brought was reheated and served, it had already become lunch.

Fortunately, the Empress Dowager championed frugality and was not picky about food. As she picked up her chopsticks, Su Mama, who usually served her closely, stepped aside. Lu Bingzhu, quick to read the room, immediately picked up his own chopsticks to serve her.

The Old Duke of Ning had been a founding general, and the Empress Dowager had been a wife who rose from humble beginnings with the Founding Emperor. Moreover, as she aged, she disliked tedious rules and etiquette, so naturally, she did not insist on silence during meals.

After taking a few bites, she asked casually, "You punished the people in the Imperial Kitchen? What happened?"

"Nothing can escape your ears. It concerns the Seventh Prince." Lu Bingzhu explained the situation, then added, "He lacks the Emperor's favor, and though he is of age, he hasn't been sent to the Imperial Study. The servants, being the fickle sort who fawn over the powerful and trample the weak, naturally look down on him."

The Empress Dowager raised an eyebrow and smiled. "You seem fond of him, coming all the way here to plead his case."

"He always wears his mother's blood-dragon wood bracelet; he seems to be a child who remembers the past," Lu Bingzhu said, knowing exactly how to earn the Empress Dowager’s favor, subtly casting the Seventh Prince in a better light.

The late Emperor’s Empress had been the only daughter of the Old Duke of Ning, the Empress Dowager’s older brother, and had been cherished like a pearl. Back then, the Old Duke hadn't wanted his daughter to enter the palace, but it was the Empress Dowager herself who had facilitated the marriage. The result had been tragic, and the Old Duke, devastated, had fallen ill and passed away shortly after.

Her death remained a thorn in the Empress Dowager’s heart. She had once thought the love between the current Emperor and the late Empress Xiaojingyi would soothe these wounds, but the Empress had passed away suddenly, and the thorn had been driven even deeper.

Both women of the Zhong family had died at nineteen. The Empress Dowager had once issued a private decree that "no daughter of the Ning household shall enter the palace again," but the current Duke of Ning had defied her, sending a "cousin" who bore a striking resemblance to the late Empress into the palace within a few years.

The Empress Dowager had broken ties with the Ning household and disliked Noble Consort Rong, remaining cold and indifferent toward her three grandchildren. This showed that the matter had always been a bitter pill she couldn't swallow.

While it was true the Emperor had feelings for Empress Xiaojingyi, his decision to seal the Weiyang Palace and not appoint a new Empress for all these years, while putting on a show of deep devotion, was also partly to appease the Empress Dowager.

Otherwise, why would Noble Consort Rong, whose very existence was an insult, be allowed in the palace?

The Empress Dowager was a woman, but she was also a politician. Furthermore, the Emperor had been taught by her personally; she understood the meaning behind his actions all too well. She simply played along without exposing him.

The more clearly she saw through everything, the colder and more pained her heart became.

"...Remembering the past is good. I like children who remember the past." As expected, the calm in the Empress Dowager’s eyes was broken; even a ripple so small it was barely visible was enough.

"I am at the age to enjoy my twilight years. Let the Emperor arrange the matters of the Imperial Study himself." The implication was that she wouldn't interfere with whether the Seventh Prince went or not.

"However, at seven, he should indeed begin his education. You arrange a tutor for him. I think Cui Pengfei would be suitable."

Cui Pengfei was one of the three regents left by the Founding Emperor to the late Emperor, reaching the rank of Prime Minister. Back then, seeing the Empress Dowager drive the Prince Regent and the other two regents from the court one by one to consolidate power, Prime Minister Cui had quickly submitted a memorial to resign, eventually cooperating with the Emperor to abolish the chancellery and establish the Cabinet, successfully retiring and saving the lives of his entire family.

The Empress Dowager continued, "Cui Pengfei’s grandson is the top scholar of the Jiangnan Prefecture, isn't he? He should be taking the metropolitan examination next March; keeping him in the Hanlin Academy won't be difficult. Cui Pengfei is returning to the capital with his grandson this time, so he likely won't leave again. It’s time to find him something to do, so he doesn't spend his old age causing trouble elsewhere."

After resigning, Cui Pengfei had devoted himself to the mountains and rivers, enjoying travel and writing several widely circulated travelogues.

As for whether the free-spirited Cui Pengfei would actually return to the capital with his grandson and never leave again... that didn't matter. Even if he hadn't planned to, he soon would.

Prime Minister Cui had always been a man who knew the times.

*

Xue Jin'an did not know that a "desktop cleaner" in the Qianyuan Palace was planning to clear out the useless heads in the palace, nor did he know that his great-grandmother at the Cining Palace had pre-booked (or rather, kidnapped) a teacher for him.

At that moment, he was focused on recharging (eating).

However, the battery was full, but the "human" wanted to enter sleep mode. The disadvantageous human trait of feeling drowsy after eating washed over him, and his eyelids fought each other uncontrollably.

He slept until the next day. Little Lu had already returned with breakfast, and the alarm he had set hadn't woken him up.

"Something's not right." Xue Jin'an felt as if his human body had encountered a bug. He solemnly opened his health monitoring software to re-read his physical data.

The results were astonishing: his physical stats were slightly higher than before, and even his battery health had increased by 0.1%!

Can a human body actually self-repair just by eating and sleeping without needing a technician?! My goodness! That’s amazing! How many spare parts costs could this save?!

Xue Jin'an, who had originally planned to equip other body parts based on the battery's condition after replacing it, felt for the first time since becoming human that humans weren't entirely without merit.

It was just that the battery’s repair speed was too slow; it still needed replacing.

Having made up his mind, Xue Jin'an began using the live broadcast to map out the palace routes, identifying locations suitable for private battery excavation.

Two days later, in the early morning, the Fourth Prince, who had struggled to get up early a few times after being lectured by Master Cen, lived up to expectations and overslept again. And today, the usual tutor had taken a long leave; unfortunately, the substitute was Master Cen.