Chapter 612: Who Is This Person Trying to Frame Me?

In the evening the heat gradually faded, yet a lingering, muggy warmth still clung in the air.

The setting sun's afterglow filtered through the vermilion windows of the Tai Chi Hall, slanting into the inner hall.

It cast a soft golden sheen over the solemn furnishings of the hall.

Emperor Yuwen Yong sat alone at his desk, reviewing memorials.

He wore a dark plain robe, no crown, his black hair loosely tied with a Jade Hairpin, revealing a smooth, full forehead.

The young emperor's brows and eyes still held a hint of youth, yet when he lowered his gaze to read, his deep eyes showed a composure and focus beyond his years.

Mountains of memorials piled on the desk were turned page by page; the Red Ink Brush in his hand occasionally marked annotations, the rustle of its tip on paper becoming the only sound in the hall.

Under the eaves outside, a hanging copper bell was stirred by the evening breeze, chiming a delicate, crisp tinkle that did not disturb the emperor absorbed in state affairs.

Just then, a barely audible footstep whispered from outside the hall.

Empress Wang Chuyan wore a moon‑white palace robe embroidered with delicate entwined‑branch lotus patterns; her black hair fell like clouds, a Jade Hairpin tucked at the side, and her graceful face bore a gentle smile.

Behind her followed several palace maids carrying vessels; the chief maid held a gilded, painted food box, from whose seam a faint fragrance drifted.

The inner attendant stationed outside the hall, upon seeing the Empress arrive, quickly bowed and began to say "May I have an audience with the Empress," but before he could finish, Empress Wang Chuyan raised her hand and gently cut him off.

Her voice was hushed, with a careful admonition: "No need for excessive courtesy."

She then gave the attendant a reassuring glance and added softly, "Do not disturb His Majesty."

Understanding, the attendant quickly swallowed the words he was about to speak and respectfully bowed, "Yes, Empress."

Only then did Empress Wang Chuyan calmly take the food box from the chief maid; her fingertips felt its warm surface, and the smile at her lips softened further.

She brushed the maids aside, lifted the food box alone, lightened her steps, and slowly entered the hall.

Inside the hall, Yuwen Yong was perusing a memorial on frontier colonization, his brows slightly furrowed as if pondering something.

Suddenly, a crisp fragrance mingled with the rich warmth of medicinal cuisine slipped silently into his nostrils.

He involuntarily inhaled, a faint smile curling his lips, and sighed lightly, "Hmm, how fragrant!"

Then he lifted his head, his gaze passing over the memorials to land precisely on the slowly approaching Empress Wang Chuyan, his tone teasingly gentle: "The moment I smelled it, I knew the Empress was coming!"

The young emperor's face shed the solemnity of reviewing documents, leaving only a broad smile, his brows and eyes curved, giving him a hint of boyish naivety.

Empress Wang Chuyan approached the desk, bowed gracefully, and said in a gentle, melodious voice, "May I have an audience with Your Majesty!"

Seeing this, Yuwen Yong promptly set down his Red Ink Brush, rose quickly, reached out to gently lift her, and, with a tone of helpless affection, chided, "How many times have I told you, if no outsiders are present, why must we, as husband and wife, observe such formalities?"

His fingertips brushed the cool back of Empress Wang Chuyan's hand, and he unintentionally squeezed a bit tighter, as if to share his warmth.

Supported by him, Empress Wang Chuyan smiled faintly at his words, her clear eyes shimmering with watery light, and softly replied, "Hmm, I'll remember that."

She set the food box on a corner of the broad rose‑wood desk, her gaze meeting Yuwen Yong's slightly weary face, and said softly, "It's hot today; I imagined Your Majesty spent the day reviewing memorials and must be exhausted, so I prepared pigeon soup myself and added a few calming, qi‑tonifying herbs…"

As she spoke, she reached to lift the box's lid, "I'll serve you a bowl now, Your Majesty, while it's still hot."

Yuwen Yong raised his hand to halt her, smiling and shaking his head, "No rush."

He looked up, pointed to a pear‑wood cabinet in the corner, and, with a hint of mystery, said, "First bring that brocade box over to me!"

Empress Wang Chuyan, though slightly puzzled, replied as instructed, "Yes."

She turned to the pear‑wood cabinet and saw atop it a delicate brocade box adorned with entwined‑branch lotus motifs, tied with a bright yellow silk ribbon.

She lifted the brocade box; it felt weightless in her hand, and she turned to hand it to Yuwen Yong.

Yuwen Yong took the box, deftly untied the ribbon with his fingertips, and lifted the lid.

An odd, crisp fragrance instantly spread, cooler than the pigeon soup's aroma yet tinged with a faint medicinal scent.

Inside the box lay a perfectly translucent white pill, its surface shimmering faintly, unmistakably not an ordinary item.

Yuwen Yong picked up the golden core, hesitated not, and swallowed it whole.

Within moments, a warm current rose from his dantian, spreading through his limbs and bones.

His muscles, previously stiff and sore from prolonged sitting, instantly relaxed and became comfortable, and even his foggy mind cleared considerably.

Yuwen Yong couldn't help but sigh contentedly, "One dose of this golden core truly refreshes the spirit!"

He said, pulling Empress Wang Chuyan into his embrace; his other hand stretched a wide lazy yawn, his joints emitting a faint crack, his face alight with a relaxed smile, "The fatigue of a day's sitting has completely disappeared…"

Empress Wang Chuyan leaned in his arms, but her gaze fell on the mountain of memorials piled on the desk, each stack nearly covering half the tabletop.

Her brows involuntarily furrowed, her voice full of genuine concern: "Your Majesty should still take care to rest!"

"These memorials will never be fully reviewed; you must not overwork yourself…"

As his wife, Empress Wang Chuyan deeply understood her husband's ambitions and restraint; he rose before dawn to attend court, and after the afternoon session he buried himself again in the mountain of memorials, often working late into the night…

Even with the golden core's nourishment, such prolonged toil cannot be borne by a mortal flesh.

Hearing her words, Yuwen Yong lowered his head to glance at the worried Empress in his arms, lightly patted her back, and guided her to sit on the soft couch beside him, his voice warm yet resolute: "Rest assured, I know what's at stake…"

He then refocused his gaze on the memorials on the desk; the earlier ease faded, replaced by a determined resolve, "Now that I finally have the chance to engage in state affairs, I cannot afford to be lax."

Although he is the emperor of Great Zhou, the Court's supreme power rests entirely in the hands of Grand Preceptor Yuwen Hu; he is merely a puppet ruler…

Having the chance to examine the memorials personally and learn governance is already hard‑won; how could he not seize it firmly?

Empress Wang Chuyan looked at her husband, the light flashing in her eyes, feeling both tenderness and a hint of helplessness.

She pressed her red lips together, her voice dropping a few tones, with a barely perceptible wistfulness: "But even if Your Majesty is so diligent, the ultimate decisions on these memorials still lie in the Grand Preceptor's hands, don't they?"

Although Empress Wang Chuyan is a woman, she also understands the treacherous intrigues of the Court; the Grand Preceptor's power dominates the realm, his factions spread everywhere, and it would be extremely difficult for the emperor to wrest power back from him…

When Yuwen Yong heard the word "Grand Preceptor," a sharp cold glint flashed in his eyes, but it quickly faded.

He brushed it off with a raised eyebrow, replying, "So what?"

He then clenched his fist, his knuckles whitening slightly, his tone full of soaring fighting spirit and steadfast belief, "Sooner or later, the Court's military and political power will be completely reclaimed by me!"

His voice was low yet resonant, carrying the sharp vigor and unwavering resolve unique to a youth.

He paused, then added, his tone bearing a measured calm, "Before that, I must hone my administrative abilities, grasp every twist and turn of the Court so that I can strike precisely in one blow!"

Empress Wang Chuyan watched his confident, ambitious demeanor, and her worry eased a little.

She reached out, firmly grasping Yuwen Yong's clenched fist; his palm's warmth and strength met her fingertips, and she said softly, "I only worry that Your Majesty works so tirelessly each day, that you become over‑exerted!"

Yuwen Yong looked at the sincere concern in her eyes, and a warm current rose in his heart.

He reversed his grip on her hand, a confident smile appearing on his face, and said with a relaxed certainty, "No problem!"

He paused, raised his hand to pat his chest, and declared earnestly, "Is there still this Golden Core?"

"With its aid, even if I stay up for several nights, I shall fear nothing!"

At that moment, hurried footsteps sounded from outside the hall, shattering the brief warmth.

Yuwen Yong's trusted inner attendant's face turned ashen, stumbling in, his voice trembling with unhidden panic, "Your Majesty… Your Majesty, a grave matter has arisen!"

Wang Chuyan, seeing this, quickly rose from the soft couch, smoothed her skirt, slipped silently to a side screen, bowed her head and stood, leaving the vast inner hall's center to the two ruler and minister.

Yuwen Yong's smile vanished instantly, his brows knit tightly, his tone tinged with displeasure as he asked gravely, "What is the cause of this panic?"

"What decorum is this!"

He usually instructs his attendants to remain composed, and today's lapse gives him a foreboding sense.

The attendant gasped, cold sweat beading his forehead, steadied himself, lowered his voice, and reported rapidly, "Your Majesty, an urgent notice just came from outside the palace: a servant of the Jin Wang Fu, under the peony tree in the outer courtyard, unearthed a witch‑craft wooden puppet!"

"On that puppet, the name of Prince of Ancheng's consort, Du, is boldly written, and more damning, the brocade wrapping the puppet, upon identification, comes from the palace's old stores!"

"What did you say?!" Yuwen Yong heard this, felt as if struck by lightning, sprang up from the soft couch, his face full of incredulous shock, and repeated hoarsely, "A witch‑craft wooden puppet found in Jin Wang Fu?!"

"…and it used palace fabric?!"

That brief sentence struck like a massive stone, crashing into his heart's lake and raising a thousand waves.

Beside him, Wang Chuyan also trembled, her hand at her side involuntarily clenching, her delicate face full of astonishment.

She never could have imagined anyone would employ such a sinister method, dragging disaster into the palace and onto Your Majesty.

The attendant nodded heavily, his voice trembling yet each word clear: "Indeed!"

"This matter is absolutely certain; the Prince of Ancheng has already secured the puppet and the brocade, and by now has likely gone to see Chen Zhuguo to discuss a plan!"

Yuwen Yong clenched his fist hard, his knuckles whitening, anger and fear intermingling in his chest, and he growled through clenched teeth, "Who would frame and trap me?!"

He has always been restrained and cautious, precisely to lull Yuwen Hu's guard, to secretly gather strength…

But now, someone has used witch‑craft to splash this filthy water onto his own head, clearly intending to doom him!

Wang Chuyan and the attendant stood aside, both silent.

This matter is far‑reaching; a slight misstep would become a towering wave. Though they have countless thoughts, they dare not speak lightly now.

Yuwen Yong staggered back two steps, leaning heavily against the Dragon Throne behind him, his expression solemn to the extreme.

The sudden turn of events completely upended all his plans.

He had intended, during this period of reviewing memorials, to appear engrossed in state affairs with no ambition, so that Yuwen Hu would lower his guard…

But now that the witch‑craft incident has emerged, the involvement of palace fabric will surely arouse Yuwen Hu's suspicion toward him.

The painstakingly cultivated harmless image may be ruined in an instant.

He raised his hand to press his throbbing temples, murmuring gravely, "What should be done now......"

"This move truly is exceedingly vicious......"

The air inside the hall seemed to solidify, terrifyingly silent.

The candle flames flickered, stretching Yuwen Yong's shadow long and lonely, as time slipped second by second.

After about the time a incense stick burns, another attendant hurried in, bowing, his voice urgent, "Your Majesty, Your Highness, the Grand Preceptor has arrived!"

"He is waiting outside the hall for an audience now!"

"What?" Yuwen Yong snapped back to his senses, a flash of panic in his eyes, murmuring low, "So quickly......"

"How could it come so swiftly?"

It is evident that Yuwen Hu already knows of this, and his arrival now likely bears ill intent.

He steadied himself, suppressing the raging turmoil within, and ordered the attendant in a deep voice, "Invite them quickly!"

"Yes!" The attendant, daring not to delay, hurriedly stepped out to lead the way.

Soon, a steady tread echoed into the hall.

There stood Grand Preceptor Yuwen Hu in a four‑clawed violet python robe, tall and resolute, his face stern; though past forty, his aura remained imposing.

Behind him followed several Personal Guards, all with cold expressions, who halted outside the hall, guarding the doorway and blocking any prying eyes.

Yuwen Yong, seeing this, quickly composed himself, forced a smile, hurried forward to greet, but his voice trembled slightly with nerves: "Grand… Grand Preceptor, you have arrived? The journey must have been arduous."

He lowered his gaze, daring not to meet Yuwen Hu's hawk‑sharp eyes, fearing any flaw would be seen.

Grand Preceptor Yuwen Hu's gaze burned like a torch, lightly scanning Yuwen Yong, noting his pallor and the hint of unnatural panic in his expression, he slightly raised his brow, his tone calm yet bearing unparalleled pressure, and asked, "Your Majesty, why are you so nervous?"

"But what has happened?"

Yuwen Yong's heart tightened; he quickly bowed, his tone growing more deferential, repeatedly replying, "Nothing! Nothing!"

"I was merely weary from reviewing memorials just now, so my expression seemed a bit fatigued; there is nothing else of importance."

He forced composure, yet his palms were already slick with cold sweat.

Yuwen Hu, hearing this, raised an eyebrow without comment, and calmly replied, "As long as nothing is wrong, that's fine."

Then, his eyes passed the bowed Wang Chuyan and the still‑standing attendant, and he said calmly, "You may go down first; I have a few words to discuss with Your Majesty privately!"

Wang Chuyan quickly adjusted her robes, bowed, and said gently and respectfully, "I take my leave."

She gave Yuwen Yong a deep look, her eyes full of worry, yet dared not speak further, turning and hurrying toward the hall's exit.

The attendant also quickly bowed, trembling, "I take my leave!"

Before the words finished, he was already stepping out quickly.

The vast inner hall of the Tai Chi Hall instantly held only Yuwen Hu and Yuwen Yong.

Grand Preceptor Yuwen Hu walked slowly to the desk, his gaze falling on the mountain of memorials; his fingertip brushed a cover lightly, after a pause he spoke slowly, his tone unreadable, "Your Majesty, I have placed you in this inner hall to study the reviewing of memorials, to become familiar with governance; now that some time has passed, I wonder how you have fared?"

Yuwen Yong felt his heart rise to his throat, bowed his head, his hands tightly clenched in his sleeves, his tone tinged with cautious humility, and whispered, "It is still acceptable......"

"I am of foolish talent, not even one ten‑thousandth of the Grand Preceptor; I can only study diligently day and night, daring not to slack even a bit!"

His voice trembled slightly, his heart full of anxiety and dread.

Afraid his answer would anger the Grand Preceptor before him, a figure whose power dominated the court and the realm and who also served as patriarch.

Yuwen Hu nodded with satisfaction: "Hmm."

Then, shifting his tone, his eyes grew deep as he asked meaningfully: "Has Your Majesty heard that the old minister's residence uncovered a matter of witchcraft wooden puppets?"