The Valued Lady is Truly Dominant

In the eighth month, the ancestral tomb of former dynasty Cabinet Minister Ning of the Xia clan in Wuxing was dug up by unknown persons and the coffin was opened, only to be found empty—and Cui Changxiao once went to Wuxing in disguise.

So Cabinet Minister Ning really did fake his death.

Coincidentally, Cui Changxiao had once gone to Wuxing; did he go there because he had found something out, and was he the one who dug up the grave, thus bringing death upon himself?

Regardless of that, the news that Cabinet Minister Ning had faked his death was exhilarating enough.

Emperor Chu immediately gave orders, commanding the imperial envoy to raid and investigate the Ning Family of Wuxing, and to escort all members of their nine clans back to the capital.

At the same time, another decree was issued: Emperor Chu had encountered an assassin in the imperial garden, and the whole city was to search for rebels, checking every household and verifying every member, especially the elderly. Anyone unable to clearly account for their whereabouts was to be arrested and investigated without exception.

It was only a few days until the New Year, and with such a huge operation underway, everyone in the capital was on edge. Soldiers had already been inspecting households for some time, and now with an even larger-scale crackdown, people were terrified; timid commoners were all wondering if war was about to break out.

Song Zhiyuan looked at Emperor Chu, who was as keyed up as if he’d taken some stimulant, and really didn’t know what to say.

”Yunzhi, once we ferret out that old bastard, his remaining followers will no longer be anything to fear, right?” Emperor Chu rubbed his hands excitedly. ”I’ll just outlast that old bastard if I have to.”

Once that old bastard Cabinet Minister Ning toppled, the remnants would lose their backbone. Continuing to rally around a little master who kept making one stupid move after another would be courting death; they might as well each go back to their own homes, find their own mothers, and settle down to have children and build their family businesses.

”That’s on the premise that you actually find him first,” Song Zhiyuan said coolly.

Emperor Chu glared at him. ”You’re such a buzzkill. It’s freezing and you’re still dousing me with cold water—try being human, will you!”

How exhilarating was this good news—couldn’t they just be happy together and enjoy the New Year?

Song Zhiyuan put on a show of cupping his hands in salute. ”Your subject admits his fault.”

Emperor Chu found him utterly tedious and snorted heavily. ”That old bastard is probably holed up with that little bastard. That way, once we catch the old one, we’ll have the little one too—buy one, get one free, excellent.”

Song Zhiyuan smiled faintly. Fine, it was a lovely image; nice enough to think about.

...

Prince Min Mansion.

Princess Consort Min was just about to go to Shou’an Palace to pay her respects to Princess Consort Ji when she saw an old gentleman coming from the direction of the North Garden and stopped in her tracks.

”Lord Wu.”

The old gentleman halted, lifted his head, and when he saw Princess Consort Min, he froze for a moment before walking over at an unhurried pace and cupping his hands. ”This old subject pays respects to the Princess.”

He was an affiliated official of the Prince Mansion.

Princess Consort Min took two steps closer and asked with a smile, ”Is Lord Wu’s grandson feeling any better?”

The old gentleman addressed as Lord Wu replied in panic, ”This old subject thanks the Princess for her great generosity; he is much better now.”

Princess Consort Min looked at his hunched figure; her gaze flickered and she said with a faint smile, ”That’s good. If you’re still short of mountain ginseng, just have someone come and tell me.”

She didn’t say anything more and left with Wan Chun.

Lord Wu straightened up and watched her figure disappear, his eyes darkening, then quickly turned and headed back toward the North Garden.

After Princess Consort Min passed through the moon gate, she gripped Wan Chun’s arm, her hand somewhat trembling.

”My lady?”

Princess Consort Min glanced at her and lowered her voice to a whisper. ”That man is wrong.”

Wan Chun was taken aback. What was wrong?

Princess Consort Min did not elaborate. The smell was wrong. Because Lord Wu had long cared for his bedridden grandson, and that grandson’s life depended on regular doses of mountain ginseng, Lord Wu carried with him a faint scent of ginseng. But the man just now did not; there was only a musty, decaying old-man smell.

Yet that person was wearing Lord Wu’s face. If he wasn’t Lord Wu, then who was he?