Chapter 5
After seeing Wei Lenghou off, Nie Qinglin leaned against the doorframe and let out a long sigh of relief.

An Qiao’er hurried over, draping a fox-fur cloak over her young master’s shoulders.

“Standing in the wind with so little on—what if you catch a chill?”

Once they returned to the inner chamber and were alone, An Qiao’er lowered her voice and asked, “What was that about? Why did he come here in such a rage?”

Nie Qinglin shook her head, staring blankly at the snow outside the window for a moment before suddenly turning back.

“Has anyone from outside the palace approached you recently?”

An Qiao’er froze, hesitating before answering, “I… don’t think so?”

But her hesitation did not escape Nie Qinglin’s notice.

The young emperor sighed deeply and continued, “Right now, it’s not Grand Tutor Wei who wishes the emperor harm—it’s my uncles. You must be careful. Weigh every word you say, and don’t touch anything given to you by outsiders. Otherwise, neither of us will even have a place to be buried.”

An Qiao’er’s face flushed red, and she immediately knelt.

“Your Majesty, forgive this servant! I… I only exchanged a few meaningless words with Wu Kui, one of the guards outside our Guang’en Palace, when fetching winter clothes… I won’t dare do it again!”

Though young, Nie Qinglin had read plenty of romantic tales about scholars and beauties.

Affairs between palace maids and guards were hardly rare, and An Qiao’er was already thirty—it was only natural for her heart to stir.

Nie Qinglin didn’t press further.

She reached out and helped An Qiao’er up.

“You’ve had a hard life, bound to a useless emperor like me. Had you served a more capable master, you might have been granted a good marriage and left the palace to enjoy life. Better than wasting your youth here in vain.”

Her words brought tears to An Qiao’er’s eyes.

The maid knelt again, refusing to rise.

“Your Majesty, how could you say such things? It would be a sin for this servant to hear them! You’re trapped in this unbearable situation, alone in this vast palace with no one to rely on. Even if you beat me to death, I would never think of leaving you! Your Majesty, I’ve learned my lesson!”

Nie Qinglin knew well of An Qiao’er’s loyalty.

After comforting her for a while, the matter was put to rest.

As An Qiao’er cleaned up the mess on the floor, she glanced at her master, her heart aching again.

If only Consort Li hadn’t taken that wrong step back then… At fifteen, the princess should have been betrothed to a suitable husband by now.

Had she married into a kind and honest family, she might have escaped the palace’s treacherous whirlpool.

But alas… Both she and I are doomed by fate, destined to be strangers to love.

—

The next day, the cold was especially biting after the snowfall.

Nie Qinglin had assumed there would be no morning court session and was looking forward to lounging in bed, leisurely nibbling on the remaining candied dates.

To her surprise, the imperial carriage from the Office of Imperial Carriages soon stopped outside her palace gates.

A eunuch who served in court rushed in to relay Grand Tutor Wei’s order: the young emperor was to prepare immediately for court.

The Grand Tutor’s whim threw the palace into chaos.

Nie Qinglin hastily washed her face, barely straightening her robes and belt before boarding the carriage.

They made it just in time.

The moment she settled onto the throne, the drums at the Meridian Gate sounded.

Officials filed into the square, and once they had all entered the hall, Grand Tutor Wei slowly strode in from the side chamber.

After offering a perfunctory bow to the emperor, he took his seat on the grand tutor’s chair adorned with coiling dragons.

What followed was an excruciatingly long session of political affairs.

Usually secluded in the inner palace, Nie Qinglin had never heard so many matters at once.

In just that short time, the reports from civil and military officials painted a grim picture: droughts starving entire counties, floods driving refugees from their homes, restless barbarians at the borders…

Yet as she listened, Nie Qinglin’s mind gradually calmed.

The previous night’s turmoil with the Grand Tutor had left her tossing and turning until dawn.

Combined with her chronic blood deficiency from poor nutrition, drowsiness soon overtook her.

Even an immortal would struggle to resist.

So, tucking her neck into the wide collar of her dragon robe, she lowered her head slightly and closed her eyes, preparing for a stealthy nap.

Half-asleep, she mused, What’s so great about this throne? Even the Grand Tutor is too stubborn to see it. My father was the lucky one, escaping to the underworld for peace. I only hope the concubines he ordered killed were pretty enough to keep my lustful father company down there…

By the time court adjourned, Nie Qinglin had already cycled through several dreams.

Only when the eunuch’s shrill voice called out “Court dismissed!” did she slowly rouse.

It was then that she noticed the Grand Tutor had turned to glare at her, his phoenix eyes narrowed.

Wei Lenghou had decided on a whim at dawn to summon the little emperor to court.

Though the Prince of Anxi was a scoundrel, he had inadvertently reminded the Grand Tutor of something: though the political situation was under control, this splendid empire still bore the surname Nie in name.

The young emperor might be a mere figurehead, but the formalities of ruler and subject had to be observed—especially now, with internal and external threats still looming.

Propping up this Nie child was not just about reassuring officials but also silencing public dissent.

Moreover, the Grand Tutor was oddly curious.

At fifteen, the boy was no longer a child.

How would he react to his first taste of court politics?

Before long, soft snores provided a clear answer.

Any ordinary citizen of Great Wei, hearing these reports, would have been so anxious their lips might crack from worry.

Yet the empire’s legitimate fourth-generation descendant had simply dozed off.

Fortunately, the officials were far enough from the throne, and the young emperor’s posture—with the dragon robe’s collar obscuring most of his face—kept them none the wiser.

Watching the little emperor’s flushed cheeks and dazed expression, Wei Lenghou let out a cold snort.

The soft sound immediately startled the boy.

He hastily wiped his sleeve across his mouth, confirming no drool was present, then relaxed again with an air of innocence.

Utterly hopeless.

Wei Lenghou inwardly scoffed.

But formalities had to be observed.

A fifteen-year-old emperor, though not yet ruling, was expected to participate in governance studies.

A few hours daily in the imperial study were unavoidable.

So after court and a hurried lunch, the young emperor was dragged into the study by the Grand Tutor.

The spacious study had been rearranged to Wei Lenghou’s preferences.

Beside his golden nanmu desk sat another chair—Nie Qinglin’s new station.

Soon, several senior ministers arrived to report affairs.

Seeing the young emperor dutifully reviewing memorials, their eyes moistened with emotion, and they spoke with renewed vigor.

Nie Qinglin sat quietly for a while, watching the ministers come and go as they relayed matters to the Grand Tutor.

Once she deemed her role as a prop sufficiently fulfilled, her gaze drifted to the study’s inner chamber, where a heated bed looked irresistibly cozy.

She softly asked the Grand Tutor if she might retire inside to read for a while.

Wei Lenghou, engrossed in memorials, waved her off without a second thought.

Nie Qinglin browsed the bookshelves but found no romance novels—no tales of scholars and beauties in the imperial study.

After some searching, she settled on a travelogue detailing local customs, which would at least pass the time.

Clutching the book, she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the heated bed.

But after a short while, exhaustion from the day’s events and the drowsiness from lunch overwhelmed her.

Despite her efforts to stay awake, she soon drifted off.

Meanwhile, the Grand Tutor finished his stack of memorials but felt weary himself.

Considering the hour—too early to return to his estate before inspecting the cavalry camp outside the capital—he decided to rest briefly in the palace before departing directly.

After instructing guards to bar entry, he stepped into the inner chamber.

Thanks to the late emperor’s indulgences, the heated bed was enormous.

The previous ruler had never been one to hurry, preferring to summon concubines for daytime pleasures in this very chamber.

Now, the bedding had been replaced by the Inner Servants Bureau with the finest southern tribute—silky smooth mulberry fabric over a layer of goose down, exquisitely soft to the touch.

Wei Lenghou had kept this oversized bed for himself.

The young emperor, lacking attendants, had fallen asleep fully clothed.

Swaddled in the oversized dragon robe, limbs sprawled comfortably, he was deep in slumber—clearly not waking anytime soon.

Wei Lenghou was a man who tolerated no defiance but saw no need to torment a child who obeyed.

The new emperor had been docile enough; granting him undisturbed sleep as a reward seemed fair.

With that thought, the Grand Tutor loosened his belt, shed his court robes, removed his shoes, and climbed onto the bed.

As he lay down, a warm, delicate fragrance wafted from the boy beside him.

Unlike the heavy perfumes of his concubines, the young emperor carried a light, sweet scent—like honeyed dates.

The Grand Tutor shifted comfortably, edging closer to the warm figure.

For such a slender child, his body is surprisingly soft—like the finest pillow.

Soon, his eyelids grew heavy. In the haze between wakefulness and sleep, that sweet aroma, carried by the boy’s steady breaths, enveloped him.

On instinct, his arm reached out, drawing the warm, pliant form into his embrace.

Once political matters settle, it’s time to bring more women into the estate.

Have the steward pick some young ones—tender age brings its own charm…