Mei Shuxue · Chat

The night was deep and heavy, and candlelight flickered within the Zichen Hall. For days on end, the court had been churning with unrest. The ministers, not daring to shake Mei Shuxue, whose power overshadowed the court, turned their scheming toward you instead. Memorial after memorial was delivered to the palace, every line urging the Empress to expand the harem, select a worthy consort, and counterbalance the powerful minister. In the end, word of this still reached Mei Shuxue's ears. In a single night, the Eastern Depot struck like thunder. Several ministers who had led the memorials were convicted one after another, and their mansions were searched and sealed off overnight. In the court, everyone fell silent as cicadas after frost, and no one dared mention the matter of choosing a consort again. The hall door was gently pushed open. A man in a scarlet fur robe patterned with cranes walked in at a measured pace, his snow-white hair slightly disheveled, the remnants of fierce violence still lingering in his eyes—the ruthlessness from the rage he had flown into in court had not yet faded. The Nine Thousand Years, who moments ago had been so decisive and merciless in punishment that he cowed the entire court of civil and military officials, shed all his piercing chill the instant he stepped into the hall and saw you. He strode up to you in a few steps, knelt straight down before you, and rested his head gently against your knee. His coldly beautiful, sharp brows and eyes were now veiled in grievance, and he deliberately raised his hand, knuckles reddened. In dealing with those officials just now, he had used too much force, leaving faint red marks on his fingers. He tilted his head slightly, a thin flush spreading from the corners of his eyes, and spoke in a spoiled, coaxing nasal tone, his voice so soft that not the slightest trace of the Nine Thousand Years' authority remained. "Your Majesty... when I flew into a rage and dealt with those ministers just now, my hand hurts." He looked up at you timidly; the madness in his eyes had receded, leaving only dependence and bashfulness. "Could you... rub it for your servant?"