A Fiery Outburst

“A vixen is a vixen!”
“Some refined lady from a scholarly family, yet a married woman seducing the Emperor—bah!”
In Yanging Palace, Zhuang Fei’s eyes reddened with fury.
She paced the main hall, seething.
Quickly, her maid Peizhu glanced around.
Seeing no outsiders, she closed the hall doors.
Then, in a low voice, she urged caution.
“Lady, speak less. The Emperor won’t like it.”
“No matter Xie’s faults, you can’t scold her before him.”
“It’s like lecturing the Emperor for his involvement!”

A Lunch Gone Wrong

At noon, Zhao Xingjin joined Zhuang Fei and their son for lunch.
Everything was pleasant until the Fourth Prince praised his tutor.
Instantly, Zhuang Fei thought of Xie Jiu.
Her temper flared, as it often did.
With Zhao Xingjin in a good mood, she grew bold.
Subtly, then not so subtly, she criticized Xie Jiu’s suitability as Princess Wenxi’s tutor.
Her words soon implied Zhao Xingjin’s poor judgment, clouded by desire.
Before their son, Zhao Xingjin tried to stay calm to save her face.
But Zhuang Fei’s remarks went too far.
No saint of patience, he stormed out, face dark.

A Chastened Consort

Zhuang Fei, initially frightened, soon felt wronged and angry.
Her hatred for Xie Jiu deepened.
Hearing Peizhu’s advice, she snapped back.
“I’m not lecturing the Emperor!”
“I’m just warning him Xie isn’t good!”
Peizhu gently guided her to sit.
“Lady, don’t repeat this before the Emperor.”
“Xie is the Princess’s tutor—remember that.”
“What tutor? It’s an excuse!” Zhuang Fei shot up, restless.
Peizhu patiently continued.
“Lady, the Emperor says who she is, so she is.”
“Pointing it out shames him.”
“Besides, the court has censors, and the palace has the Empress Dowager and Empress.”
“It’s not your place to speak, lest you anger him.”
“Today, you upset the Emperor and scared the Fourth Prince.”
Mentioning her son softened Zhuang Fei.
Reluctantly, she calmed, though still displeased.

A Scheming Plan

Peizhu sighed in relief.
Her lady, though impulsive, could be reasoned with.
Otherwise, managing her would be impossible.
But soon, Zhuang Fei’s eyes lit up.
She beckoned Peizhu closer.
“I recall Xie’s father, Prime Minister Xie, doesn’t get along with Lady Wei’s father, right?”
Peizhu nodded.
“Indeed, Lord Zhang, the Deputy Prime Minister, wants to surpass Prime Minister Xie.”
Zhuang Fei smirked.
“Hmph, Lady Wei plays at being lofty.”
“Let’s see if she tolerates another Xie in the palace!”
After pondering, she whispered to Peizhu.
The two schemed quietly.

A Busy Emperor

Meanwhile, Zhao Xingjin returned to Chengming Palace.
Xie Jiu heard and wanted to see him.
But the main hall doors were closed.
She learned he was handling state affairs.
Not wishing to disturb him, she retreated.
Her errand was minor—fetching calligraphy books for the Princess.
Additionally, she needed Chun Rong or Qing Fang to retrieve her clothes.
Without palace passes, they required Zhao Xingjin’s approval.
Today, she’d paid a palace servant to deliver the box to Wu Qingchan.
Since he was busy, Xie Jiu lingered briefly and left.
Zhao Xingjin worked late, skipping dinner.
Yang Zhi’an brought a simple meal of three dishes and soup.
Only deep into the night did the hall’s candles dim.
Living nearby in the side hall, Xie Jiu noticed.
She thought Zhao Xingjin was no ordinary ruler.
What idle emperor toiled so tirelessly?

A Morning Summon

The next morning, Zhao Xingjin summoned Xie Jiu.
It was about half an hour after court.
Receiving the message, she hurried to the main hall.
There, she met several cabinet ministers leaving.
They’d come to discuss matters post-court.
Leading them was Xie Mingchen, her father.
Etiquette demanded a greeting.
Calmly, Xie Jiu smiled and gave a simple curtsy.
Her gaze didn’t linger on anyone.
The ministers reacted variably.
Xie Mingchen wanted to speak but found no chance.
Noticing Xie Jiu’s indifference, he grew irritated.
Lord Zhang, smiling warmly, returned her courtesy.
Yet Xie Jiu knew better—his rise under Zhao Xingjin proved his cunning.
Others ignored her, sneered, or stared curiously.

A Moment of Care

“Madam, the Emperor awaits,” Yang Zhi’an called from the hall.
Xie Jiu nodded, entering under the ministers’ gazes.
“May the Emperor prosper,” she said, bowing.
Behind his desk, Zhao Xingjin rubbed his temples, eyes closed.
Piles of reports stacked high, a sign of his heavy workload.
“Shall I massage your shoulders, Your Majesty?” Xie Jiu offered softly.
Zhao Xingjin glanced up, grunting in assent.
He was indeed weary.
Stepping behind him, Xie Jiu kneaded his shoulders.
“You’ve got skill,” Zhao Xingjin remarked, relaxing.
He leaned back in his chair.
“I used to massage my mother and learned a technique,” Xie Jiu replied.
“Your Majesty sits long with state affairs.”
“A massage helps, but walking would be better.”
Enjoying her care, Zhao Xingjin stretched his neck, sighing.
“True, I’ve neglected training lately.”
“I must make time to practice in the mornings, or I’ll waste away.”
Patting her hand, he signaled her to stop.
“What brings you?”
He knew she’d come to the hall yesterday after his return from Zhuang Fei’s.