Xu Qinghuan’s gaze sharpened as it settled on the unremarkable-looking middle-aged attendant.
Xu Zhan’s brows immediately drew together in a deep frown.
He stepped forward, placing himself in front of the blue-robed attendant.
His right hand moved instinctively to the hilt of the saber at his waist.
“What does Chief Grand Secretary Xu mean by this?” Xu Zhan demanded, his voice carrying the imposing menace he had brought back from the battlefield.
“The grand court session has just ended. Whatever he has to say could have been said outside the Hall of Heavenly Grace. Why insist on taking her to the Pavilion of Literary Depths?”
The blue-robed attendant remained utterly unfazed by Xu Zhan’s pressure.
His manner was deferential, but he did not retreat an inch.
“Marquis, please calm yourself.” The blue-robed man’s voice betrayed no emotion. “The Chief Grand Secretary only said that a jar of pre-Qingming Longjing has just been opened in the pavilion, and the water is already boiling. He invites Princess Wanping to join him for tea.”
“As for anything else, my master gave no instructions. This humble servant would not dare make assumptions.”
Xu Zhan let out a cold laugh, though he could not conceal the tension in his heart.
“Tea? Go back and tell Grand Secretary Xu that the Xu family is made up of rough folk. We have no taste for the fine tea of the Grand Secretariat!”
The blue-robed man lowered his head and said nothing, answering him with silence.
Standing behind them, Xu Qinghuan’s mind was already racing.
Xu Jie was definitely not summoning me over those tiresome marriage schemes cooked up by the sour-faced scholars.
That old fox kept silent during court, merely watching as the old emperor bestowed the title of Princess Wanping upon me and cut off the aristocratic clans’ plans.
Now that he has summoned me alone, it must be about the silver mountain.
If I refuse to go, he’ll suspect I have something to hide.
If I go, it will be a battle of wits—a test of what the other side knows.
She reached out from behind and firmly pressed down on Xu Zhan’s wrist, the one gripping his saber.
“Second Brother, let go.”
Xu Zhan turned around, his face full of disapproval. “Little Sister! Don’t be reckless!”
“The Pavilion of Literary Depths is right at the foot of the imperial city, the very heart of Great Qian’s power.”
Xu Qinghuan kept her tone light, though she exerted just the right amount of force, gradually pressing Xu Zhan’s hand down.
“It’s broad daylight. All the officials are watching, and so is the emperor.”
“The Chief Grand Secretary invited me for tea. It isn’t as though he set executioners in ambush to chop off my head. What are you so worried about?”
What Xu Qinghuan really wanted to say was: It’s not as if you could refuse anyway.
Xu Zhan caught her sleeve and lowered his voice, speaking urgently. “The waters of court run deep! What if that old fox lays a trap for you while you’re alone in the Grand Secretariat? No. I’m going with you! I’d like to see who dares lay a finger on you!”
At his words, the blue-robed man gave a slight bow and said coldly, “Marquis. By the ancestral laws of Great Qian, the Grand Secretariat is a restricted area. Without an imperial edict, military officers may not enter without permission.”
“If you insist on crossing the boundary, it will be considered an assault on the central government.”
“Neither this humble servant nor the Xu family can bear such a charge…”
Xu Zhan was so infuriated by those words that the veins on his forehead bulged.
Having spent half his life on the battlefield, he hated nothing more than civil officials using ancestral laws and regulations to browbeat people.
Xu Qinghuan patted him on the shoulder.
“That’s enough, Second Brother.” Xu Qinghuan’s smile faded, and her tone turned serious. “It is my honor that Chief Grand Secretary Xu wishes to see me.”
“Go back to the residence at once.”
She glanced at the civil officials still watching from a distance and lowered her voice as she continued, “Big Brother is probably tearing his hair out dealing with all those officials trying to use connections and send gifts.”
“Go back and hold the fort. Seal the gates shut.”
“Without my word, the Xu family receives no visitors. But remember to accept the gifts.”
“Never turn down free things.”
Xu Zhan gritted his teeth. He knew his sister was right.
He shot the blue-robed man a fierce glare and said gruffly, “Little Sister, be careful.”
With that, Xu Zhan turned and strode toward the palace gates.
Xu Qinghuan straightened her clothes, then lifted a hand to brush the newly fallen snow from her shoulder.
“Let’s go.” She looked at the blue-robed man.
The blue-robed man stepped aside and gestured for her to proceed. “Princess, this way.”
The two of them entered the deep passage between the palace walls, one following the other.
…
The wind and snow swept between the vermilion walls and golden roofs, stinging her face.
Xu Qinghuan drew her cloak tighter around herself, but her eyes remained alert as she discreetly surveyed the defenses along the way.
After passing through two palace gates, Xu Qinghuan’s footsteps paused almost imperceptibly.
Something was wrong.
The imperial guards she had seen along the route on her previous visit had mostly been older veterans with relaxed expressions.
But now, every guard standing watch on both sides of the passage was a stranger.
They stood straight-backed, their gazes sharp.
Most importantly, their hands remained hovering just above the hilts of their sabers.
Their positions were carefully arranged. They appeared scattered, yet together they formed the vague shape of an encirclement.
At the slightest disturbance, these three or five men could instantly join forces and form a killing formation.
Xu Qinghuan withdrew her gaze, understanding dawning in her heart.
Since the old emperor had tied the Xu family to imperial authority, he must have attached enormous importance to the profits of maritime trade and the technology of ocean voyages.
She had simply not expected him to be this sensitive.
The defenses at Great Qian’s political center had already been tightened across the board in secret, with Emperor Tiansheng’s tacit approval.
The imperial palace was becoming more and more dangerous to linger in.
After passing several side halls, the view ahead suddenly opened up.
A solemn, timeworn building appeared before them. The three characters Pavilion of Literary Depths were inscribed on the plaque above its entrance.
At that moment, seven or eight high-ranking officials in crimson robes stood beneath the corridor outside the pavilion.
They held thick stacks of documents in their hands.
Some paced back and forth, while others stamped their feet anxiously. Clearly, they were waiting for the Grand Secretariat to review and approve urgent matters.
Hearing approaching footsteps, the group of capital officials turned around.
When they saw the blue-robed attendant leading a young woman toward them, several of the officials frowned and were just about to reprimand her.
This was a restricted area of the Grand Secretariat. How could some random outsider barge in?
But the moment they recognized the clothing Xu Qinghuan wore—and the face of the woman who had dominated the court gathering—they all moved in perfect unison.
The officials immediately stepped back two paces, clearing a broad path.
The entire courtyard fell silent. Only the cold wind passing beneath the eaves could be heard.
Outside the Hall of Heavenly Grace, some had still dared to test the waters and curry favor, relying on the cover of the crowd.
But now that they were at the Pavilion of Literary Depths, the very heart of power, no one dared provoke this Princess Wanping, who enjoyed the emperor’s favor and controlled the lucrative maritime trade.
Xu Qinghuan kept her gaze straight ahead and walked calmly across the paving stones, passing the silent, apprehensive officials.
The blue-robed man stepped forward and pushed open the wooden door with both hands.
“Princess, the Chief Grand Secretary is waiting inside.”
Xu Qinghuan crossed the threshold.
The door slowly closed behind her, completely shutting out the snowstorm beyond and the officials’ watchful eyes.
The pavilion was brightly lit inside.
The heated flooring kept the room pleasantly warm, and there was not the slightest trace of acrid charcoal smoke.
Xu Qinghuan looked around.
There were no luxurious furnishings here.
No precious porcelain, calligraphy, paintings, or antiques.
There were only bookshelves.
Row upon row of redwood shelves stretched from the floor all the way to the ceiling.
They were packed with household registers and land-survey records dating back to the founding of Great Qian, along with disaster reports from every region and confidential military documents.
The papers gave off the musty scents of old ink and mildew. Gathered together, those odors seemed to weigh down on the chest and make it difficult to breathe.
Every volume was a miniature reflection of some part of Great Qian—a record of the lives and deaths of countless common people.
Xu Qinghuan took a long breath and followed the passage between the bookshelves deeper into the pavilion.
At the very back lay a broad, open space.
Chief Grand Secretary Xu Jie stood with his back to the door before a vast map of Great Qian’s territories.
His frame was slightly stooped.
Yet standing there, he gave off the steady presence of a pillar anchoring the sea.
Xu Jie held a vermilion brush in his hand. With his arm raised, he was drawing a circle around the southeastern coast on the map of the realm.
The scarlet ink spread across the parchment map, glaringly red.
Xu Qinghuan stopped and did not interrupt him. She simply stood there, quietly watching this venerable minister who had held power over the court under three emperors.
He had risen from humble beginnings—and yet, one could also say, he had begun at the very pinnacle.
After finishing the circle, Xu Jie set the vermilion brush in the brush washer.
Then, all at once, his aged voice rang out through the empty pavilion.
“Xu girl.”
Xu Jie turned and looked at Xu Qinghuan.
“Your ambitions are considerable.”
Xu Qinghuan’s expression did not change. She properly saluted him as a junior addressing an elder.
“Chief Grand Secretary, you flatter me,” Xu Qinghuan replied calmly. “I am merely helping His Majesty shoulder his burdens and finding a source of revenue for Great Qian.”
“My only goal is to fill the national treasury and ensure that the soldiers guarding the frontier can have a proper meal.”
“A source of revenue?” Xu Jie let out a cold snort and slowly walked over to a nearby tea table.
He picked up the teapot and poured himself a cup of hot tea.
“The grand vision you painted for His Majesty is indeed enticing.”
Xu Jie lifted the teacup and blew gently across the foam, yet his eyes never left Xu Qinghuan.
“I truly do not know whether I should pass this path on to Xu Zijin…”
“Or to you.”
