Chen Shang began recounting his two days and nights at the Bureau—
Mentioning the three-eyed toad demon, Su Lingxi’s combat skills, and how she didn’t blindly follow the Empress’s commands.
Prince Yan listened attentively, occasionally asking for more specific details.
His hands were tucked into his sleeves, naturally hanging at his sides, but his eyes remained unreadable.
It was the two seated ministers who seemed unable to contain themselves.
Since the message came directly from Su Lingxi, why not try?
Sometimes, a person’s moment of hesitation passes in a flash—and once missed, it may never return.
Especially with someone as strange and unfathomable as Su Lingxi.
Call her a traitor or a schemer, and yet, she had done many things that benefited the nation and its people.
In recent years, whenever a national crisis arose, she was always among those who worked through the night, sleepless and relentless.
Corruption cases, disaster relief, chaotic taxation—many difficult problems she had handled personally.
Even though she changed emperors, she never used the new empress as a puppet, nor did she pull strings behind the throne.
Instead, she taught the empress to dismantle Prince Yan’s laid-out strategies piece by piece, cultivated her own power, and even began gradually relinquishing control in less important areas.
In less than three years, to everyone’s surprise, many now sincerely referred to the once-weak princess as “Her Majesty.”
This wasn’t a good thing for them—but precisely because of that, they wanted even more desperately to win Su Lingxi over.
A powerful official who had no desire to be emperor, no ambition to seize the country, could almost be called a pure subject.
Not for the throne.
Not for power.
Not even for fame—
—Su Lingxi had never cared for such things.
Then why had she done such shocking things?
No one knew.
But then, no one had ever truly understood Su Lingxi.
At a certain point in the conversation, Prince Yan’s lips twitched slightly, and he asked, “Did she ask the Three-Eyed Toad whether a high-ranked demon had infiltrated Chang’an?”
Chen Shang replied, “Yes.”
“What was her last question?”
Chen Shang thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“There was too much commotion at that point—I didn’t hear clearly.”
Prince Yan fell silent. Su Lingxi had always been like this—what she let you see, what she let you hear, was only ever what she allowed.
As for what truly couldn’t be known—no one would ever hear a single word of it.
How could it be indecision?
It was clearly a warning.
Prince Yan looked straight ahead.
His eyes squinted slightly as if dazzled by a blinding light.
For the briefest of moments, he felt as though he were staring at Su Lingxi across space.
He could almost see her lips moving, coldly telling him:
“There’s a great demon lying in wait in Chang’an. If you don’t want to die, don’t stir up trouble right now.”
Or perhaps she was saying:
“The demon cabinets have shattered. Demons roam the world—this better not be your doing.”
The thought rose in Prince Yan’s heart, and another cough threatened to erupt.
He pressed his handkerchief in the air, signaling them to continue.
He was still listening.
When the room quieted again, he finally said, “What do you all think—what kind of gesture should we prepare to show goodwill to Su Lingxi?”
The room grew even quieter.
What could they offer?
Power?
Wealth?
Su Lingxi didn’t even have a single relative or associate—bribery wouldn’t work.
She lacked nothing—and wanted nothing.
Among those present were old ministers and younger men who had followed their fathers into service, roughly Chen Shang’s age.
The young ones had ideas but little worldly experience, and they were the ones eager to offer strategies.
The older men sat still in their chairs, unmoved, saying nothing.
Only now did one of them finally speak, and it was on another matter:
“How has Your Highness’s health been recently? We’ve heard the imperial physician has prescribed a new treatment—has there been any improvement?”
Another elder nodded and continued, “The estate may be cool and comfortable, but demons have begun appearing in Chang’an. This place is ultimately not safe. Returning to the prince’s residence to recover is the best course of action.”
“It’s already being arranged. We’ll return tomorrow,” Prince Yan said.
“We’ve been here for some time. It’s time to go back.”
As for his health—he didn’t answer.
There was no need.
Everyone knew what condition he had been in for years.
What improvement could there be?
Just staying the same and not worsening was already a good outcome.
Someone else exchanged a glance with a colleague and then brought up palace affairs:
“Your Highness, the Imperial Preceptor has had people prepare portraits of various noble sons for His Majesty.”
The implication was clear to everyone.
The old ministers again said nothing.
Prince Yan had already heard of this.
His tone was flat: “His Majesty is of age—naturally he needs companions at his side.”
“Which families’ sons did she choose?”
The speaker thought for a moment, then said, “The second son of the Su family from Gusu, the eldest son of the Shang family from Runan, and the fourth son of the Minister of Rites.”
When the last name was mentioned, Prince Yan paused.
A few older officials exchanged glances.
“The fourth son of the Minister of Rites? As I recall, that’s a concubine-born child.”
“Indeed,” the man replied with a bow to the previous speaker. Then he continued, “And the younger brother of a former… Prince Consort.”
These were the ones Su Lingxi had chosen.
I went to inquire, and they said Su Lingxi didn’t consider family background or academic merit—she just picked the ones who looked good and would please His Majesty.”
Brothers serving the same ruler—it sounded absurd.
But upon hearing it was Su Lingxi’s doing, somehow it made sense.
It was exactly the kind of thing she would do.
The two most senior officials with the most disciples had come today for two reasons: to hear the situation within the Demon Suppression Bureau, and to persuade Prince Yan to return to the palace and recuperate.
Now that both were done, they closed their eyes.
The court was a terrifyingly deep pool of water.
The Princess had already held power for three years.
Her once gentle temperament had grown impressively capable.
The situation was growing increasingly unfavorable for them. Prince Yan’s faction always made noise—loud noise—but never managed to make real waves.
Let alone a coup—they hadn’t even launched a proper political action.
Why?
Because once a tripartite balance was formed, minor scuffles couldn’t shake anything.
Su Lingxi had the backing of the three great sects and the clear-stream scholars she supported.
The Emperor had the State-Sealing Seal, half a dragon vein, and a growing corps of female officials.
Prince Yan had behind him only the old noble clans of Chang’an.
“Do you think Su Lingxi cares about their impeachment?”
Before having absolute certainty, she can only act like a snake, threatening but not reckless, waiting for the right moment to strike and take a piece of her enemy’s flesh, biding her time until the opportunity arises to strike a fatal blow.
Moreover, Your Highness, the bond between His Majesty and Su Lingxi is deeper than the world imagines.
To a certain extent, they understand each other better than anyone else.
Because they understand each other, they will not act rashly.
“One more thing,” Chen Shang said.
“It seems that the person responsible for leading the team from Floating Jade has arrived, and the long-awaited name has finally been revealed.”
The King, holding the bowl, quietly stared at the dark reflection of the medicinal liquid, about to drink his second bowl of medicine for the day.
He had long ago checked the list of those sent from Floating Jade to the mortal realm.
To obtain this list, he had sacrificed quite a few of his undercover agents in the Demon Suppression Bureau.
There were sixteen teams, many unfamiliar names, but only two stood out—one of them being the team leader, named Sang Chu.
Never heard of him.
It seemed that over the past fourteen years, Floating Jade still had many talented individuals, having cultivated many promising young people.
As he thought about it, the King lowered his eyes, listening to Chen Shang.
“His name is Ye Zhuxu.”
The sound of a bowl crashing to the ground echoed in the hall, and many people stood up, calling, “Your Highness.”
The King brushed aside the maidservant and used a handkerchief to wipe the medicine from the back of his hand.
He glanced at Chen Shang and whispered, “What’s his name?”
Chen Shang opened his mouth:
“Ye Zhuxu.”
The King was silent for a while, seemingly lost in thought.
After a moment, he waved his hand and said, “I remember there was a young master who stayed at the household of the Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Revenue. He was strikingly handsome, with an extraordinary appearance, and recently gained fame in Chang’an.”
Everyone present was male, ranging from teenagers to men in their forties, and none of them paid attention to which family had how many young masters.
No one knew why the King was suddenly asking this.
The room fell silent, and after a while, it was Chen Shang, who was most often seen enjoying himself with friends, who spoke up.
“It seems there is such a person, he’s seventeen this year.”
“Seventeen. That’s a good age.”
The King nodded, looking at the pale lines on the back of his hand, and then continued, “Go ask if he and the fourth son of the Minister of Rites would be willing to do me a favor and stay for a while in the vacant residence of the Imperial Preceptor.”
At these words, everyone froze.
“Tell her to keep the visitor, and don’t disappoint him. Also, arrange for someone to deliver a message to Su Lingxi at the Demon Suppression Bureau, telling her this was selected just for her, according to her preferences.”
The senior officials finally realized the inappropriateness of this move.
It would not benefit them, and they would only waste time and effort.
They would also have to discard several of their undercover agents.
Frowning, one of the elders stepped forward and said, “Your Highness…”
The King’s gaze swept over him—not harshly, but it was enough to subdue everyone:
“Go ahead and do it.”
This was the real face of the former monarch.
Stripping away the gentle facade, every word and action carried an unchallengeable authority.
Seeing this, the old officials had no choice but to bow their heads, suppressing their doubts, and said, “Yes.”