The sound of rain outside the hall grew heavier, the curtain of rain so dense it could practically wring out ink. The bean-sized raindrops hammered against the glazed roof tiles, as if trying to shatter them. Within the hall was dry, but the scent of petrichor had increased. Hearing her words, Jiang Changbai turned her head, unspeaking, and evasiveness rose on her expression—because this question was equally unanswered in her mind. Regardless of if it were the dynamic of sovereign and minister or master and servant, neither seemed to properly encapsulate the emotion between the two of them. But at this moment, the ground was speckled with bloodstains, carving a gulf between them and the word "lovers". "Bixia, please dispel this minister's doubts," Song Juguang said as she took advantage to press forward, not having the intent to let Jiang Changbai off the hook. Her fingertips hung on Jiang Changbai's collar, and in the space between touch and having yet to ...

Unexpectedly, the next moment, Jiang Changbai's wrist suddenly exerted itself, and in an instant, she wrenched her hand out of Song Juguang's grasp. Immediately, the blade in held tightly in her hand pressed against Song Juguang's neck, and Jiang Changbai glared fixedly at her, asking harshly, "You think We won't dare to kill you?" After waiting a long moment, when Song Juguang didn't reply, Jiang Changbai reprimanded her once more, "Don't bring up any childhood friendship with Us." Jiang Changbai didn't so much as blink as she spoke, and red crept into the whites of her eyes, appearing even more sinister under the reflection of the candle flame. She paused, and only then said, "It's true that A Guang was selected from among refugees, but Our A Guang was taught to read by Us, and her martial arts were learnt alongside Us as well; who she is, We couldn't know any better. It's impossible for her to lead forces and fight as ...

The scent of ambergris hung in the hall, and the candle flames lit on the table swayed and flickered. Song Juguang picked up a few of the memorials and casually glanced over them, a smile of understanding appearing on her face. "It's merely that these imperial censors are making conjecture at my intentions; every word and every action this minister does is for the Great Li." "For the Great Li," Jiang Changbai's voice was still harsh, "can you do as you please for the Great Li? Do you hold Us as in esteem? Song Juguang, We have not treated you poorly." Hearing that, Song Juguang bowed her head, a sudden, strange sensation arising in her heart. From the time Jiang Changbai had ascended the throne, this was the first time she'd used the imperial "We" when it was only the two of them. She gazed furtively about the surroundings, and found that there were a number of people hidden away. She'd been Regent for too long now—she really wasn...

What Song Juguang had said was "aid", and not "obey Dianxia's orders". It was the difference of a few words, but the implications were worlds apart. But Liang Jiwen was, at this moment, overwhelmed with emotion, and didn't have the ability to consider the twists and turns of Song Juguang's words. To say nothing of the fact that Liang Jiwen's ability with the language of the Great Li was far from such a proficiency. "Many—many thanks to Wangjun." In the end, Liang Jiwen took the tally, grasping it tightly. "The Shejin Royal Palace is dangerous as a dragon's pond or a tiger's cave; when Dianxia departs day after next, there will be someone accompanying Dianxia on the journey," Song Juguang said, the final thing she'd wished to tell Liang Jiwen today. "Both this regent and her majesty have already done everything we're able to do. The Great Li will not interfere in another country's governmental affairs; all ...

The motion of Liang Jiwen's hand stopped instantly. The Great Li only had one "Wangjun"; even without turning her head, she knew who it was. Suspicion rose uncontrollably in Liang Jiwen's mind; how come Song Juguang would be here now? "Ah, rise." Liang Jiwen heard Song Juguang's voice sound from behind her. Not the slightest amount of emotion could be heard in Song Juguang's indifferent tone, as if her being here at this moment couldn't possibly be any more normal. But from the time Liang Jiwen had begun living in the Rongfan Palace, she'd barely seen Song Juguang come here more than a handful of times. Suddenly, plots common to folk literature arose in her mind—with events out of the ordinary, there always had to be some unusual explanation. Her mind suddenly filled with dread. She'd only just learned that, due to her own return to Shejin, those who had connections to her were about to lose their freedom. Liang Jiwen felt that there wasn...

"Take it." There was a stubbornness on Su Ya's face, and she said, "Having someone to help you will always make you stronger than being alone." A strangeness rose on Liang Jiwen's expression, and she looked at Su Ya. "How is it that I remember that, when we were in Shejin, the two of use never had any sort of commonality." With the matter that the two of them had, before, been tacitly silent about laid bare like this now, both Su Ya and Liang Jiwen's expressions were embarrassed. Su Ya pressed her lips together, shifting her gaze away, not daring to look at Liang Jiwen. "Back then, I was young, you know that." "But I was three years younger than you," Liang Jiwen said, sadness in her tone, "we clearly had the same status, yet we lived as if we were worlds apart." Su Ya curled her hands, biting her lip, what she was thinking unknown. Liang Jiwen merely stared at her, her scorching gaze seeming to bore a hole th...

Translator's note: Unfortunately my internet connection last week wasn't stable enough to work on anything; pardon the lack of updates. I have reliable internet again, and should have tomorrow's chapter up on time as well. -  Lu Pingwan sat on the low bed, her fingers twisting the handkerchief unceasingly. The night before, she'd had a dream; in the dream, she'd returned to her youth, to when she had yet to become the Princess Ling, and was admiring flowers along with her companion. In the dream, Lu Pingwan felt that the two had made fast friends, an affection as if they'd grown to adulthood together. But when she'd woken up, she couldn't even recall that person's face. Others had admired the flowers and recited poetry, but what sort of talent for poetry recitation could a child have had? They could only watch dumbly. Watch the flower petals ruffled by the breeze, the butterflies alight in the centres of the flowers. But then, suddenly, a wild wind...