After leaving the palace, Liang Youyi had her legs massaged by Fang Ling, who asked softly, “Did Her Majesty give you a hard time?”

“No. Just a warning.” A threat, really—telling her not to oppose Fu Zhang.

“Did Her Majesty mention your wedding date?”

“No.”

Fu Zhang kept delaying the marriage. Liang Youyi suspected he feared she’d discover his two-household scandal once she entered the residence. And since the Empress Dowager allowed the delay, Fu Zhang must’ve said something to convince her that postponing the wedding was best for both the Prime Minister’s residence and the Duke Ding’s estate.

Back at the estate.

At dusk, a maid from her grandmother’s quarters summoned Liang Youyi to the council hall. Her grandfather Liang Bo and grandmother Old Madam Liang were waiting, along with her cousin Liang Zhinian.

Liang Bo asked, “Youyi, what did the Empress Dowager say when she summoned you?”

“She gave me guidance and reminded me to prioritize the honor of the Duke Ding’s estate.”

“The debt scandal at the Prime Minister’s residence—rumor has it you were involved. Was that why Her Majesty summoned you?”

Liang Youyi replied, “A few days ago, I was dining at Yulouchun when the manager asked me to settle a debt. That’s when I learned the Prime Minister’s residence had been dining there under the Duke Ding’s name, spending over ten thousand taels in just November.”

“Ten thousand taels in one month?” Liang Zhinian was stunned. “How could he eat that much?”

“I don’t know. But the ledger was detailed and didn’t seem forged. I certainly don’t have that kind of money, so I refused to pay.”

She didn’t mention anything else.

Old Madam Liang pressed further: “Did you encourage Manager Song to go demand repayment from the Prime Minister’s residence?”

“I did not. In fact, I asked someone to remind the Prime Minister.”

That “someone” was Fu Zhang’s eldest son, whom she’d asked to pass the message to his father. Still, that counted as informing him, didn’t it?

“Your great-grandmother gave you that wine shop, which brings in seventy to eighty thousand taels a year. If the Prime Minister’s residence is struggling, you should help out.”

The wine shop was a golden goose, and the Duke Ding’s estate had always been envious.

Liang Bo added, “The Empress Dowager has many responsibilities and needs silver everywhere. She can’t afford to subsidize her ministers. The Prime Minister’s residence is your future home. Naturally, you should support it. Don’t keep burdening Her Majesty.”

Liang Youyi lowered her head in silence. Every year, the wine shop’s income was siphoned off by the estate under various pretexts to “support” the Empress Dowager.

Seeing her silence, Liang Bo realized she understood and waved her away. As she reached the door, Old Madam Liang said sternly, “The Prime Minister is a capable minister, loyal to Her Majesty. If you dare collude with others to obstruct Her Majesty, don’t expect the estate to protect you.”

“Yes, Grandmother. I understand.” Liang Youyi wasn’t foolish. The Empress Dowager and her grandparents were clearly working together to suppress and warn her. Fu Zhang must’ve said something to Her Majesty. Whatever he said, it had made the Duke Ding’s estate treat her like a discarded pawn, forcing her to submit.

Leaving the council hall, Liang Youyi felt heavy-hearted. She looked up at the gray sky above the estate and whispered to herself: The skies will clear eventually. But she wasn’t about to swallow Fu Zhang’s silent betrayal without retaliation.

“Die Jin,” she said, “find a way to get some of Minister Xia’s handwritten notes or letters. The content doesn’t matter.”

“Understood.” Die Jin was her most trusted aide—quiet and efficient.

Fang Ling asked, “Princess, what do you need Minister Xia’s handwriting for?”

“For Fang Zhi to study.”

“You want Fang Zhi to mimic his handwriting?”

“Yes. We need our ‘Minister Xia’ to write a denunciation letter to the Censorate. Tomorrow, I’m going to Qilin Pavilion with Fu Zhang to admire the treasures. How could we not invite a censor?”

Fu Zhang had the Empress Dowager behind him—Liang Youyi couldn’t topple him. But the censors were different. They were mouthpieces, watchdogs. If they got a chance to bite, they’d draw blood. If Fu Zhang played his hand on the first day of the month, she’d make sure the fifteenth was unforgettable. Her grandfather had secret guards, so she had to be even more discreet.

Die Jin returned within half a day with a rubbing of a memorial Minister Xia had written to the late emperor—a 2,000-character eulogy, perfect for studying his handwriting.

Liang Youyi was thrilled and praised Die Jin’s cleverness.

Die Jin blushed. “Other letters were hard to get. I only found a half-written memorial in his study. But this eulogy was easy to copy.”

Liang Youyi handed the memorial and rubbing to Fang Zhi, asking her to mimic Minister Xia’s handwriting and write a denunciation letter against Fu Zhang.

Fang Ling and Fang Zhi were her personal maids. Fang Ling was skilled in martial arts. Fang Zhi looked sweet and innocent, but she had a rare talent—she could quickly analyze and replicate someone’s handwriting with uncanny accuracy. This time, she was to mimic Minister Xia.

The letter accused the Prime Minister of spreading rumors that the Grand Empress Dowager was interfering in politics and forming factions, forcing him to buy priceless treasures at Qilin Pavilion to bribe her. It was written on common paper with ordinary ink—no signature.

When Fang Zhi finished, Liang Youyi compared it to Minister Xia’s original and couldn’t help but give her a thumbs-up; even Minister Xia himself might be fooled. This letter, written in the style of Fu Zhang’s ally, would be delivered to his political enemy—two birds with one stone.

Liang Youyi handed the letter to Die Jin. “Find a way to place this in Censor Huang Desheng’s carriage or study. Make sure you see it reach his hands.”

Die Jin nodded and left.

The Censorate had many officials, divided into factions: the Empress Dowager’s, the Grand Empress Dowager’s, and a few unaffiliated loyalists. Huang Desheng belonged to the Grand Empress Dowager’s faction. He was eloquent and shrewd, currently a fifth-rank censor. If he got hold of evidence that Fu Zhang was corrupt and defying imperial authority, he’d sink his teeth in and never let go.

Once the censors targeted you, your good days were over.

That evening, Huang Desheng returned home. Just as he stepped out of his carriage, a letter floated gently down in front of him.

The next day was Liang Youyi’s scheduled outing with Fu Zhang to admire treasures at Qilin Pavilion. She dressed slowly and elegantly, stopped by Zhang’s general store for snacks, then visited Chisu Workshop to check the accounts before heading to Qilin Pavilion.

“Is the Princess trying to keep Fu Zhang waiting?”

“If not for giving Huang Desheng a chance to impeach him, I wouldn’t even bother seeing him.”

Outside Qilin Pavilion, the street was packed with luxurious carriages and fine horses. Excited greetings filled the air.

“Did you hear? Qilin Pavilion has two new treasures—Ningguo’s thousand-year red coral and Master Songqing’s Ten Thousand Miles of Crimson painting.”

“Wow, the coral is said to revive the dead and grant immortality!”

“Master Songqing has only released three paintings in all these years.”

“His works are known for realism. Ten Thousand Miles of Crimson is his first blend of realism and expressionism. I bet it’s worth a fortune.”

“This is the first time Qilin Pavilion has held a treasure-viewing event just for two items!”

…

Liang Youyi overheard the claims about reviving the dead and couldn’t help but chuckle. Qilin Pavilion’s marketing was truly outrageous. At the appointed hour, her carriage stopped. Qing Shi set the footstool, and Fang Ling stepped out first, holding a large parasol over Liang Youyi.

One smile scattered blossoms, another could topple a kingdom.

The courtyard fell silent. The crowd, packed shoulder to shoulder, gazed at her from afar and suddenly hushed.

Feng Que leaned against the window, looking down at the woman stepping out of the carriage. Unlike her bold, galloping figure from the other day, today she was gentle and graceful, stunningly beautiful. Even the treasures of Qilin Pavilion seemed unworthy to be her backdrop.

Jian Yuheng followed his gaze and smiled. “She’s Princess Yunshang of the Duke Ding’s estate—Fu Zhang’s fiancée. The late emperor granted the marriage nearly seven years ago…”

“Fu Zhang doesn’t deserve her.”

“Who says otherwise? Too many flowers wasted on dung heaps…” Jian Yuheng’s eyes lit up. “If not for the feud between the two estates, you two would be quite the match.”