Xie Shuishan kept her eyes on Zhu Huan. He was leaning against the back of the chair, yet a specially made iron corset still encircled his waist—clearly, he could not sit upright on his own.
At that moment, he was laughing so hard that his whole body trembled. The movement made him slide a little farther down against the chairback.
His long hair had not been properly tied up, merely swept behind the chair. As he moved, it spilled forward over his shoulders.
Xie Shuishan followed the winding cascade of hair with her eyes, and her brows lifted slightly once more.
Aside from the fact that Zhu Huan’s eyebrows were thicker and darker than hers, she had finally found another obvious difference between them.
Zhu Huan’s hair was actually a mass of thick, black curls.
The kind of large, carefree curls that bounced in the air with every movement.
Like seaweed.
He laughed while coughing lightly, and the palace maids kneeling on the floor began moving again in perfect unison.
Jiang Yi watched Zhu Huan nervously, then crawled on his knees to the emperor’s feet and supported Zhu Huan’s lower leg. In only this short while, his throat had already gone hoarse.
“Your Majesty, if you do not believe in this servant’s loyalty, you may as well cut out my heart and inspect it yourself.”
“But this person sent by the Xie clan is a fiend who twists words and turns black into white. He absolutely cannot be allowed to live!”
Jiang Yi had spent his entire life navigating the treacherous waters of the imperial palace. He had stumbled more than once, and had even survived the dangers of palace coups and changes of ruler.
He could not help but sigh at the eloquence of this person sent by the Xie clan. Her words were as brilliant as blooming lotuses, and this attempt to sow discord seemed harmless enough, entirely without proof.
But even the deepest abyss had a bottom. The human heart, however, was the hardest thing in the world to fathom.
Especially with Zhu Huan, who had been ill for so long and grown deeply suspicious. If even the slightest trace of doubt were planted in his heart, it would one day swell into a snowball and trigger an avalanche.
Since ancient times, what rulers feared most was someone coveting the dragon throne beneath them.
But Jiang Yi had no time to defend himself. He could only offer his counsel with utter sincerity, as though cutting open his heart and tearing apart his liver.
Once Zhu Huan’s laughter subsided, he used ginseng tea to soothe the itch in his throat.
The hall once again fell silent enough to hear a pin drop.
Everyone waited to see what sort of cruel punishment Zhu Huan would use against this insolent madwoman.
Xie Shuishan was waiting too. That was why she continued staring straight at Zhu Huan.
But Zhu Huan no longer met her eyes. He shifted his gaze away.
The smile on his face seemed to have vanished completely as his strength ran out.
It was as though the unseen, intangible shadows had once more seeped into his brows and eyes, enveloping his entire person.
Amid the oppressive silence, Zhu Huan’s somewhat dim gaze swept across the empty grand hall and turned toward the sky outside the windows, which had grown even darker as the snowfall intensified.
His fingers slowly stroked the dragon’s head carved into the armrest beside him.
Only after a long while did he speak, his voice light and airy. “Jiang Yi, I am tired. Take her away for now.”
That meant he intended to keep Xie Shuishan alive.
Xie Shuishan could not help raising one brow.
“Your Majesty!”
Jiang Yi called out to Zhu Huan again, but this time Zhu Huan did not even look at him.
All of Jiang Yi’s fervent loyalty froze beneath the emperor’s dark, sinister gaze.
He could only press his lips tightly together, the furrows on his face deepening further.
By the time Xie Shuishan was personally escorted out of the Taiji Hall by Jiang Yi, the sky outside had gone completely dark.
The snow continued to blanket heaven and earth with mad intensity.
Like a pair of hands from another world, it seemed determined to wipe away every stain from existence.
The eunuch superintendent, Jiang Yi, walked ahead in a fury, deliberately choosing stretches of ground where the snow had not been cleared. His footsteps crunched loudly with every step, as though that were the only way to vent his anger at Zhu Huan for sparing Xie Shuishan.
Xie Shuishan followed behind him at an unhurried pace, strolling through the snow as though she were taking a leisurely walk. She had no trouble keeping up.
The palace buildings they passed were magnificent, with layered terraces and interlocking pavilions. Guards holding long halberds and crossbows stood ten paces apart along the route, solemn and motionless amid the dim sky and heavy snow, resembling lifeless statues.
Everything gave off the same feeling as the Taiji Palace: oppressive, bleak, and stifling.
Palace servants carrying snow-clearing tools swept back and forth without pause. Snow had piled up on their bodies, too much for them to shake off in time, making each of them look like a snowman that had come to life.
Xie Shuishan took in the solemn, archaic vista of this foreign imperial court, yet her mind held only one question—
Why hadn’t Zhu Huan killed her?
The Xie clan was forbidden from deliberately harming itself, but she could still die an accidental death.
Xie Shuishan’s eyes were full of languor. She truly felt not the slightest attachment to this new world or this new life of hers.
Wasn’t Zhu Huan supposed to be an unpredictable, bloodthirsty tyrant?
Thinking of the way Zhu Huan had suddenly burst into laughter in the hall, she decided that he was certainly unpredictable—but where was the bloodlust?
Perhaps Xie Shuishan was walking too slowly. She seemed to be strolling through the snow. Though no one held an umbrella over her and she ought to have looked disheveled, she let the wind and snow soak her from head to toe without even bothering to lift a hand and brush them away.
Somehow, this gave her an air of detached serenity, as though she had transcended the mortal world.
The sight only made Jiang Yi angrier.
Suppressing his fury, Jiang Yi turned around and glared at Xie Shuishan, waiting for her to catch up.
Xie Shuishan was brought to the Lin’de Hall behind the Taiji Hall. Lin’de Hall stood on elevated ground, facing south with its back to the north. It was vast in scale and magnificent in bearing.
Xie Shuishan followed Jiang Yi up the steps, went around the courtyard enclosed by covered corridors on all four sides of the terrace, passed through the front and middle halls of Lin’de Hall, and then climbed to the second floor of the rear hall. Only then did she arrive at the palace known as Jie’lou, which adjoined the residence Jiang Yi had been ordered to arrange for her.
From the upper floor of Jie’lou, one could overlook the entire complex. It was formed from the front, middle, and rear halls combined, and was clearly more than twice the size of the Taiji Hall where Zhu Huan lived. The layout within was varied and splendid, grand enough to be the true residence of an emperor.
Jiang Yi sent a eunuch inside to announce their arrival. Before long, the sound of sparse footsteps came from within.
Xie Shuishan was standing beside an open window, gazing outside. At the sound, she turned her head and saw one, two, three, four… six puppets who resembled her—or rather, resembled Zhu Huan.
Clearly, this was the place Jiang Yi had mentioned: where the puppets were trained and instructed.
So Zhu Huan himself lived in the Taiji Hall, while a group of puppets occupied Lin’de Hall, the true imperial residence?
Jiang Yi’s expression had remained dark throughout. He gathered everyone together so they could see that a new puppet had arrived, which was itself a form of intimidation.
After all, the more puppets there were, the clearer the message: any of them could be replaced at any time.
Jiang Yi glanced at Xie Shuishan, then swept his eyes over the others and said in a low, grave voice, “Number Ten forgot the purpose behind the means and has been beaten to death.”
His lips moved again. He ought to have introduced Xie Shuishan to the rules of Lin’de Hall, explained the matters requiring attention, and presented the six bureaus of female officials who served and waited here, along with the various taboos.
But Jiang Yi was eager for this “fiend” from the Xie clan to break some prohibition—preferably one that would let the female officials torment her and expose her true nature. So he explained nothing.
He merely lowered his voice and, with a mocking yet strangely sharp tone, said to Xie Shuishan, “You are Number Seventeen.”
Jiang Yi looked at Xie Shuishan with malice in his eyes.
“Once you enter Lin’de Hall, I advise you to forget where you came from and forget who you are. You will live longer if you think of yourself as nothing more than an object. That way, your family can remain safe and enjoy wealth and honor.”
As Jiang Yi spoke, everyone in the hall except Xie Shuishan remained silent with fear. Two of them, who had been close to Number Ten, could not stop their bodies from trembling.
It was obvious that Jiang Yi usually trained Zhu Huan’s doubles with brutal methods. Whenever they saw him, they cowered like mice before a cat.
Apparently quite satisfied with the way the doubles trembled before him, Jiang Yi flicked his horsetail whisk and left in a huff, accompanied by the eunuch who had held an umbrella and cleared the way for him earlier.
Xie Shuishan remained standing by the window. It was open, and the winter wind blowing in from outside had chilled her back through and through.
The snow that had fallen on her during the journey had melted, leaving her hair and clothes damp. She had walked all the way through the snow, and her shoes and socks were soaked, clinging heavily and wetly to her feet.
It was extremely uncomfortable.
But Xie Shuishan’s expression remained impassive. She stood motionless by the window, too apathetic even to acknowledge her own discomfort.
After Jiang Yi left, the doubles exchanged glances, each with a different expression. Then they silently gathered in a corner, sitting in groups of two or three around several small tables and waiting in silence.
No one spoke to Xie Shuishan, nor did they converse with one another.
After a short while, a female official dressed in a blue-green cross-collared robe with wide sleeves entered through the doorway. A gilded belt hung at her waist, and a jade hairpin adorned her head.
She stopped at the entrance, her expression cold, and swept her eyes over everyone in the hall. There was no contempt in her gaze, but neither was there any emotion.
Her eyes paused briefly on Xie Shuishan, who stood by the window letting the cold wind blow over her, before drifting away. She clapped her hands.
As the sound faded, palace maids from the Imperial Kitchen filed into the room. Dressed in pale green palace robes, they began placing food on the small tables around which the doubles sat.
Not a single person spoke from beginning to end.
It was as if their tongues had all been cut out.
Once the palace maids had arranged the meal, the blue-green-clad official led them out of the hall in orderly fashion. The doors closed behind them.
The only sounds left in the room were the clinking of bowls and chopsticks and the faint noise of chewing.
When the footsteps outside had completely faded away, some of the men finally began casting repeated glances at Xie Shuishan.
After a while, one of those who had been staring at her several times slammed down his chopsticks. His voice rasped like coarse sandpaper:
“Why do you keep that window open? It’s the dead of winter! If you’re hot, go stand out in the snow!”
The hoarse man’s features did not resemble Zhu Huan’s very much. Zhu Huan had narrow, upturned eyes—the classic phoenix eyes—whereas this man’s were more like the eyes of a auspicious phoenix, not quite as slender. The one thing he did share with Zhu Huan was the vicious air about him.
He was blaming Xie Shuishan for opening the window, but she had not opened it at all. She had merely happened to be standing beside it and could not be bothered to move.
When Xie Shuishan showed no reaction, the man seated opposite the hoarse man was clearly no kind soul either.
He had a stalk of greens between his teeth, his cheeks working rapidly like a rabbit’s. He smacked his lips noisily as he chewed. The dignified bearing he had maintained before Jiang Yi and the palace official from the Imperial Kitchen had vanished without a trace, replaced by a thoroughly disreputable air.
He looked exactly like a street thug.
The thug scanned Xie Shuishan from head to toe, unable to conceal the jealousy and resentment in his eyes. None of them had ever truly met the Sage Emperor, but judging from the Sage Emperor’s portraits, this person was undoubtedly the most similar.
The more similar someone was, the more often they could leave the palace and impersonate the Sage Emperor, and the more rewards they received!
She was practically stealing their livelihood!
Taking food from someone’s mouth was as unforgivable as killing their parents.
So the thug grinned and spoke especially viciously:
“First we had one delusional fool who really thought he could become the emperor, and now we’ve got a ‘chaste martyr.’ What’s with the corpse-like face? Didn’t they pay you, or did someone force you into prostitution? Hahahaha…”
The table beside him burst into laughter as well.
Most of these people had entered the palace voluntarily. They could earn money by impersonating the emperor. The risk was considerable, but the pay was so generous that it was more money than their families could earn in several lifetimes—a fortune worth risking their lives for!
As for why they were such a mixed bunch, that was easy enough to understand. Zhu Huan had searched the entire realm for people who resembled him and accepted anyone who came. Naturally, every sort of person could be found among them.
Xie Shuishan’s features were striking and heroic, and her bearing was brisk and sharp. Since her biological mother had been a supermodel, Xie Shuishan stood a full six feet tall. That was tall even among ordinary men. Moreover, she was dressed as a man, so at first glance no one would mistake her for a woman.
The man was deliberately mocking her by calling her a “chaste martyr.”
Leaning against the window, Xie Shuishan breathed in the crisp, icy air outside and looked at the group in the room. Just moments ago, they had been trembling like little quails under Jiang Yi’s gaze. Now they were shouting and laughing in a disorderly mess, revealing their true selves.
A genuine look of doubt appeared in Xie Shuishan’s eyes.
Where, exactly, was Zhu Huan’s supposed cruelty and bloodlust?
He could raise a group of creatures like these and even send them out to meet people in his place. He must be the true Sage Emperor.
Some people were openly hostile toward Xie Shuishan, while others ignored her completely. Naturally, there were also those who felt favorably toward her “dull and helpless” appearance.
At least she was better than the previous one, who had been filled with treacherous ambition, wanted to become the real emperor, and had even tried to poison them all. Wasn’t she?
Thus, one of them quickly rose from his seat and walked over to Xie Shuishan. He reached past her and closed the window behind her.
“Your… your clothes are all wet. Did Commissioner Jiang tell you which room you’re staying in?”
Xie Shuishan looked down at the person in front of her. He was still a boy who had not fully grown, perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old. His features resembled Zhu Huan’s by four or five parts, but there was a red mole between his brows.
Although Zhu Huan had a pale complexion from his long illness, his skin was clean and smooth, without the slightest blemish on his face.
When Xie Shuishan did not answer, the boy with the red mole did not mind. He continued, “The palace official in charge of accommodations hasn’t come yet. Once we finish eating, she’ll assign you a room.”
“And some dry clothes.”
Xie Shuishan still said nothing.
The boy with the red mole was quite outgoing. He tugged lightly at Xie Shuishan’s arm.
“Come over and eat something first.”
“Tsk, look at you being so kind. Can’t you see she doesn’t appreciate it?” the thug said. He spat something he had been chewing onto the table.
The small tables were set very close together. Forget eating—Xie Shuishan was starting to feel like vomiting.
She slowly freed her arm from the red-moled boy’s grasp and said coldly, “You eat. I’m not hungry.”
The boy with the red mole looked somewhat at a loss. Seeing that Xie Shuishan truly had no intention of accepting his kindness, he returned to his seat and began eating by himself.
After this, she was supposed to eat and live together with this rabble?
In her previous life, Xie Shuishan had never suffered this sort of “misery.”
She began seriously considering what she could do to make Zhu Huan reveal his tyrant nature and slaughter her cruelly.
What a nuisance.
“Your Majesty, why didn’t you kill the suspicious person sent by the Xie clan?”
Inside the Hall of Supreme Harmony, Jiang Yi had already dispelled the unease in his heart based on the many familiar ways Zhu Huan continued to place his trust in him.
His Majesty truly would not become suspicious of him merely because of some random person’s provocation.
In the gaps between reading memorials, Jiang Yi seized every opportunity to persuade Zhu Huan.
“Your Majesty, even if that person does resemble Your Majesty very closely, keeping him alive will bring endless trouble.”
“The Xie clan of Eastern Zhou has always been aloof and haughty, priding itself on being the nation’s backbone and a family of loyal ministers. Why would they cast aside their clan’s dignity and arrogance to suddenly pledge allegiance to His Majesty?”
Even in Jiang Yi’s heart, Zhu Huan was the most legitimate Son of Heaven in the world—a wise and enlightened ruler who cared deeply for the people and devoted himself tirelessly to state affairs.
However, His Majesty’s reputation among outsiders was truly terrible. With the deliberate slander spread by the great clans, even though Zhu Huan had spent recent years doing everything in his power to wrest control of the imperial examination system from them and ensure its fairness, not even talented scholars from humble backgrounds were willing to sit the exams and enter government service under the tyrant.
The Xie clan’s pledge of allegiance represented the submission of three hundred thousand troops on the eastern frontier. For His Majesty, who was hemmed in by the great clans and unable to advance or retreat, it was certainly a timely rain—a heaven-sent helping hand.
But judging from the fiend’s various actions, the Xie clan had no true respect for His Majesty, and its motives were certainly impure.
Jiang Yi earnestly tried to persuade Zhu Huan several more times. Only then did Zhu Huan, who had been lying on the bed with his eyes closed while listening to memorials, finally open his eyes.
Without looking at Jiang Yi, he slowly said, “You said it yourself: he looks remarkably like me. Someone like that isn’t easy to find.”
Jiang Yi countered, “But he shows no respect for Your Majesty, and his intentions are unclear. Besides, Your Majesty has his aunt, the master portraitist. With her skill, anyone who resembles Your Majesty by two or three parts could be made to look almost identical.”
“What is so remarkable about looking like me?”
Zhu Huan very nearly sighed. Jiang Yi was excellent in every way and utterly loyal. He had been Zhu Huan’s chief aide ever since Zhu Huan left the palace after being enfeoffed as a prince.
After Zhu Huan ascended the throne and had no close confidant at his side, Jiang Yi had even been willing to sacrifice a man’s dignity—and abandon a respectable official career that could have left his name in the annals of history—to enter the palace and serve the emperor. As a result, he had become a eunuch who wielded power, despised by everyone.
But while Jiang Yi possessed loyalty in abundance, he lacked strategic insight.
The mere thought of having to patiently break down and spell out for him why he had chosen to keep the “great gift” sent by the Xie clan left Zhu Huan utterly exhausted.
That man was not only audacious beyond all reason, but also glib and eloquent. His gaze held both indifference and interest, yet not the slightest trace of fear toward imperial authority—or even death.
With just a few words, he had left Jiang Yi utterly speechless. He was clearly no ordinary man.
As for why Zhu Huan had chosen to keep him, it was merely a matter of going with the flow and turning the other side’s scheme to his own advantage.
Whether the Xie clan intended to confuse him, assassinate him, or even replace him with such a person, killing the man outright would be more trouble than it was worth.
The Xie clan commanded three hundred thousand troops on the eastern frontier. Although the clan had withdrawn from the center of power over the years, the army under its command remained strong and battle-hardened, its iron hooves thundering across the land.
Zhu Huan could make use of this man and drag the Xie clan’s enormous vessel into the struggle against the great clans.
This was a double-edged sword placed directly into his hands. It could cleave open the stagnant deadlock before him and sever the tangled roots of the great clans, whose interests were intertwined with one another.
Even if using the sword meant wounding himself first, how could Zhu Huan—who could not even stand on his own anymore—bear to let it go?
Jiang Yi was still trying to persuade him.
Zhu Huan sighed.
Though his body was nourished with every tonic and carefully tended in every possible way, his strength was ultimately limited. He was like an oil lamp burning down to its final flicker.
Handling matters of state was already a struggle. He truly had no energy left to educate a blockhead.
His tone turned cold as he struck straight at Jiang Yi’s heart.
“You have questioned My command again and again. Do you truly wish to overstep your authority and take My place?”
Jiang Yi dropped to his knees with a thud. The memorial in his hand was pressed to the floor along with him as he kowtowed repeatedly before Zhu Huan, putting such force into it that he seemed ready to smash his head open and die on the spot, expressing his loyalty with every ounce of his being.
Trembling, he said, “Your Majesty, this servant merely…”
Zhu Huan closed his eyes, his brows drawing together slightly, and said, “Continue reading.”
Zhu Huan did not tell him to rise, so Jiang Yi remained kneeling on the floor. Suppressing the tumult of emotions surging violently within him, he picked up the memorial and continued reading.
“Your servant, Jiang Qiao, Grand Censor, respectfully risks death to report the following.”
Jiang Yi skillfully skipped over the useless praises of the emperor, as well as the customary drivel about officials merely fulfilling their duties.
Then he read, “Qian Man cang, Military Commissioner of Dongzhou, allowed his vicious servants to abduct a commoner’s daughter in Shuojing, forcing her into slavery and taking her as a concubine, causing public resentment to boil over…”
Zhu Huan opened his eyes and looked toward the canopy above the bed, letting out a cold scoff.
His voice was low and eerie. “Qian Man cang is the Empress Dowager’s nephew on her mother’s side. He has neither merit nor rank, yet the Empress Dowager forcibly installed him as Military Commissioner of Dongzhou in order to infiltrate the military command of Dongzhou.”
Jiang Yi had only just been frightened by Zhu Huan’s rebuke, but upon hearing this, he tried several times to hold himself back and ultimately failed.
“Damn that so-called Military Commissioner of Dongzhou! He’s only hanging onto the title through the Empress Dowager’s influence. Let Qian Man cang try setting foot in Dongzhou if he dares!”
“Although Xie Chi is dead, the children he left behind are all tigers and wolves of Dongzhou. If Qian Man cang goes to Dongzhou, his corpse will vanish without a trace just like Xie Chi’s!”
Zhu Huan closed his eyes. He was already utterly exhausted, and his voice grew even slower and wearier.
“Regardless, the ‘latrine’ that is the office of Military Commissioner of Dongzhou has already been occupied by the Empress Dowager.”
“Your Majesty, then wouldn’t the Grand Censor’s impeachment be the perfect opportunity…”
Zhu Huan gave his final order. “Have the Investigations Office look into it.”
“Yes!” Jiang Yi acknowledged the order.
Then, at an appropriate moment, he added, “Your Majesty, it is nearly midnight. Your health is of the utmost importance. You should rest for tonight.”
Zhu Huan gave a vague response. Before he could even be attended to while washing up, consciousness left him.
His health was simply too poor. If the incident had not occurred when he was still young, he would probably have long since been completely spent.
In the end, however, Zhu Huan did not sleep peacefully. Not long after he had fallen into a deep sleep, Jiang Yi shook him forcibly awake.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, please wake up…”
“Your Majesty, something has happened at Linde Hall…”
“Your Majesty…”
Zhu Huan woke, but being forced awake just after falling asleep left him even weaker.
He could barely manage to whisper, “Are you calling a soul back from the dead?”
He was becoming more and more undisciplined.
Zhu Huan struggled to open his eyes. Though he had technically slept for a short while, his face was now so pale that it was almost gray.
Under ordinary circumstances, Jiang Yi could have held out against even a calamity for a while, at least allowing Zhu Huan time to recover on his own instead of draining his already meager strength.
But this was no ordinary calamity. The sky itself had fallen!
Jiang Yi did not even have time to call for someone to help Zhu Huan sit up. He leaned over the side of the bed and hurriedly shouted at him, “Your Majesty, something terrible has happened! The person sent by the Xie clan of Dongzhou is a woman!”
Today’s chapter is a double feature! [Laughing uproariously]
