Two Women Enter the Palace

Proofreader/Editor: Nene Yashiro

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Han Zhen summoned Tang Jiwei to a side hall. As the first scholar in history to be entrusted with a major responsibility just three days after his appointment, Tang Jiwei remained unfazed, much to the frustration of officials eagerly awaiting his downfall.

Han Zhen lay on a couch, holding a book, his brows slightly furrowed, his eyes deep and unreadable. Even in a seemingly relaxed pose, his imposing aura was undeniable. Tang Jiwei glanced at him, thinking that, even if he weren’t the emperor, he’d make a formidable general, with an air of hostility that could suffocate others.

“Your subject greets Your Majesty!” Tang Jiwei knelt in formal greeting.

Han Zhen set down his book, took a sip of tea, and said, “Rise.”

Tang Jiwei lifted his robe to stand. As a loyal minister, he knew he needed to be obedient butalso unique enough to catch Han Zhen’s attention and rise in rank.

“What’s the progress on Jiang Tianyi’s case? I sense you have a firm plan,” Han Zhen said, locking eyes with Tang Jiwei, forcing him to lower his gaze.

“Your Majesty, I have clarified the details, and we are currently locating all the stolen items as evidence!” Tang Jiwei responded with a respectful bow.

Han Zhen, looking fatigued, rubbed his temples, and his servant Chief Eunuch Li Sheng offered a bowl of ginseng soup to invigorate him. Han Zhen waved it away. Tang Jiwei remained impassive; he knew the emperor disliked relying on medicinal aids. Han Zhen had always believed that he alone should steer his world. Tang Jiwei smirked slightly, understanding the emperor’s mindset because he once held a similar belief.

Han Zhen noticed Tang Jiwei’s brief smile and quickly captured the subtle expression.

“I tasked you with the case not for vague answers but for concrete evidence. The case is already clear; I wanted proof. Yet you return with ambiguous responses! Tang Jiwei, I know your capabilities surpass this; I’m well aware!”

Each of Han Zhen’s words struck Tang Jiwei, prompting him to reflect. Was he too careless, revealing something to arouse suspicion?

Tang Jiwei knelt again, his handsome face lowered in apology.

Han Zhen waved for him to rise, briefly distracted as Tang Jiwei’s bowing reminded him of someone else. He snapped back to attention before the familiar name escaped his lips.

After Tang Jiwei left, the chancellor, Song Ci, emerged from behind a jade screen, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

“What do you think, Grand Chancellor?” Han Zhen asked, standing tall and commanding.

“An uncanny resemblance,” Song Ci mused.

“To what degree?” Han Zhen asked.

Song Ci shook his head, gazing distantly. “Hard to say. If Your Majesty suspects him, why employ him? Aren’t you afraid he might seek revenge?”

Han Zhen sneered. “I welcome it if he dares.”

Song Ci, his beard swaying, looked sternly at Han Zhen. “He was far better at winning hearts and ruling than you. You merely took advantage of his loyalty and honor. If you didn’t have any conscience left, I wouldn’t spare you!”

Han Zhen glanced at the visibly irritated chancellor, unfazed by his blunt words; the old man had rebuked him enough times.

Han Zhen had hidden Song Ci behind the screen precisely because Tang Jiwei reminded him of someone. However, while they shared certain qualities, he and his master were otherwise entirely different.

But Han Zhen didn’t believe in fate or reincarnation, nor did the old chancellor, a devoted Confucian scholar. So, Tang Jiwei narrowly escaped suspicion.

Jiang Tianyi had already informed Tang Jiwei of the location of the “evidence ledger.” All Tang Jiwei had to do was put on a convincing show of investigating. The very act of going against Han Zhen’s orders was unsettling for him, but the thought of his exiled family reminded him that this was poetic justice, that his survival was destined to complete this “retribution.”

Meanwhile, Tang Xin had been chosen to enter the palace as an attendant. Madam Xiao questioned why she would want to go, believing that a peaceful life was far better than venturing into the “dragon’s den.”

“Mother, that’s a prejudice. Why did you have me take the exams? Isn’t it for honor? You didn’t warn me about the palace or the dangers of official life then!”

Tang Jiwei reassured Madam Xiao , who adored Tang Xin. Since she had no daughter-in-law, she often treated Tang Xin as a daughter. Now, at twenty-five, Tang Xin would serve in the palace for at least that long, leaving Madam Xiao lamenting the separation.

“Ah, young people today are beyond me. Well, go if you must, but remember that fame and fortune are fleeting; staying alive is the priority!” she urged.

Tang Jiwei smiled and agreed.

When the palace carriage arrived at the healer’s house, Tang Xin insisted on boarding there. Respecting her wishes, Tang Jiwei brought her early.

As he looked at her — a woman his age who had also endured hardships — he thought her more beautiful and yet inconspicuous, which was fortunate.

“Take care. If one day you wish to leave, send me a message,” he told her.

Tang Xin took a deep look at him, gracefully lifted her palace dress, and knelt down. Tang Jiwei reached out to support her but stopped halfway.

Tang Xin solemnly bowed three times before standing up, and Tang Jiwei smiled bitterly as he helped her up.

“You’re really shaving years off my life with this!”

Tang Xin laughed lightly, unfazed, but then grew serious and said, “Yesterday, I saw someone at the maid selection grounds. Since you were busy at the Ministry of War, I didn’t mention it to you, but after thinking it over, I felt I should let you know.”

Rarely did Tang Xin seem hesitant, so Tang Jiwei couldn’t help but get serious. He said lightly, “Oh? Is it someone I know?”

Tang Xin clenched her fist and raised her head, frowning, “It was Tang Mi. I heard from an old woman, Granny Zhang, that someone paid five taels of silver for her spot. I suspect her family couldn’t afford that, and it’s probably the money you gave Second Aunt last time.”

Tang Jiwei was startled, though he kept his expression calm, only showing a hint of regret in his eyes. He said to Tang Xin, “She was supposed to be a young woman in her prime. Mother even said recently that with me as her support, she could someday marry well. It seems now that’s completely out of reach.”

“Aren’t you angry?” Tang Xin asked, surprised.

Tang Jiwei raised an eyebrow and replied, “Compared to the ten taels I was swindled out of, Tang Mi is the real victim, losing her future happiness and security.”

Tang Xin admired Tang Jiwei’s open-mindedness and simply nodded, saying nothing more.

As the carriage took Tang Xin through the palace gates, Tang Jiwei sensed that the coming days would be filled with worries and uncertainties.

“What’s wrong? Is your wife leaving, and you’re sad about it?” A barefooted doctor came out from behind, looking at Tang Jiwei as he gazed off into the distance, teasing him.

Tang Jiwei ignored his antics, unable to blame Old Lady Tang for choosing his father over the sloppy, grass-shoe-wearing man behind him, who lacked any of his father’s maturity and poise.

When he returned to the Champion’s Residence, Madam Xiao heard what happened and angrily smashed her favorite blue porcelain teacup, her chest heaving as she wished she could tear apart Second Aunt’s deceitful face.

Tang Jiwei rubbed his forehead and said, “It was a willing arrangement. It’s not entirely Second Aunt’s fault. If Tang Mi hadn’t agreed, no one could have forced her.”

Madam Xiao’s neatly combed hair had come undone in her fury as she snapped, “If she hadn’t urged her, would Mi’er have gone through with this? How could a mother be so blind? Does she not realize the palace is a lion’s den where few can leave unscathed? I couldn’t stop Tang Xin, given her lack of close family ties. But how can Tang Mi be dragged into this? It’s going to ruin her life!”

“And where is Tang De? Has he died, too? Why didn’t he tell me?” she shouted, thinking of her reckless son.

Tang Jiwei fanned her with a bamboo fan to calm her down and said, “I sent someone to ask. They said he’s in Yangzhou, interested in the silk business there. He left for the south some time ago.”

Madam Xiao let out a deep sigh and said, “No wonder! If Tang De were around, he wouldn’t have let his mother and sister do something so foolish. Oh, what terrible karma is it that we have such a heartless woman, pushing her own daughter into the fire pit!”

Tang Jiwei tried to console her, “Second Aunt is shrewd. She wouldn’t make Tang Mi a mere palace maid.”

Madam Xiao, realizing the truth, sat down and sighed, stopping her shouting. She only muttered that everyone has their own path. Since Tang Mi aspired to rise above, her role as an aunt wouldn’t hold her back. If she fails, she’ll still have a place to eat in this household. And if she succeeds, they won’t have to go begging her for favors.

Still, Madam Xiao bore a grudge against Second Aunt for withholding the truth and using Tang Jiwei’s official status as a veiled threat. Madam Xiao didn’t say more, but she knew that sometimes people slowly wear down the hearts of their own kin, until one day, there’s no warmth left to give.

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The Author has something to say: I’ve been busy with school matters and didn’t have time to stock up on manuscripts, so I’ve neglected all my dear readers~ Truly, this is my fault~ *Throws handkerchief~*

What about the promised collections? I haven’t forgotten, you know~

If you love me, then collect my work~ *Shy face~*