Chapter 303

First Volume, Chapter 303: Ten Thousand Flowers in Full Bloom

Once, even the Minister of Justice had to look up to Grand Commandant Gao; now he knelt before him, bowing his head in submission—truly fate plays cruel tricks.

The Minister of Justice, hands behind his back, looked down at Grand Commandant Gao with deep regret: "Lord Gao, you were once the backbone of our Liang, with countless disciples—how glorious you were! How could you be so foolish, undone by a mere wastrel like Qin Feng?"

"Qin Feng is brazen—let him be. Someone will deal with him sooner or later. As the saying goes: retribution may be delayed, but it never fails. Now you've stepped in yourself—a Grand Commandant fighting a wastrel? Win, and it's dishonorable; lose, and you're ruined forever… Why bother?"

Facing the Minister of Justice's lecture, Gao Ming shook his head, a hollow sorrow in his voice: "He wanted the wind to rise—and it did; he wanted the waves to come—and they came. I didn't lose to Qin Feng—I lost to the hand behind him, the one who turns clouds to rain and rain to clouds."

The Minister of Justice, remembering old ties, had intended to give Gao Ming a dignified exit.

Upon hearing this, his expression darkened instantly.

At the same time, the Black Captain stepped inside, took the Imperial Edict from Gao Ming's left hand, and tossed a transfer order into his right: "The post of Vice Minister of Rites has been filled. In recognition of your lifelong service, you are appointed County Magistrate of Pingyao—your ancestral land. A quiet post, return there to spend your remaining years in peace!"

The Minister of Justice sighed. Knowing Gao Ming as he did, he knew full well what it meant to speak those words aloud. Gao Ming simply couldn't accept defeat—he had to cling to his pride.

For Gao Ming now, the posts of Vice Minister of Rites and County Magistrate of Pingyao were no longer meaningfully different.

The only mercy was that the Liang Emperor, out of old affection, had not yet struck him down outright—that alone was rare.

Under the Minister of Justice's sighs and the Black Captain's watch, Gao Ming wasn't even given time to pack. Within one Envoy, he and his family boarded two horses and carts, embarking on the journey home—effectively driven out.

Imperial Palace, Hou Gong, West Flower Hall.

Inside the pavilion crowded with ten thousand flowers, Princess Qiyang had shed her usual spoiled demeanor, appearing meek: "If Gao Ming had shown restraint, he could have stayed in Jingdu as Vice Minister of Rites. Now he's been banished straight back to Pingyao County."

"The Tianji Camp made a huge show—but no real action. I hear… Commander-in-Chief of the Longhu Army, Zhao Li, even offered his son Zhao Yulong to Qin Feng."

"Publicly ordering troops to seize someone—that's a grave crime. Yet the Emperor didn't even mention it. Strange."

The Chang Princess, bent over embroidering a fan, smiled softly, her tone light as mist: "The Emperor is in a difficult position. A tiny Beixi County managed to repel Chen Si—a monumental achievement. Could he ignore it? He granted Qin Feng ten households and had the Longhu Army surround the Tianji Camp. One, to warn him; two, to balance merit and demerit. That was the best decision. But Grand Commandant Gao—his final years ruined. How tragic… Don't you agree, Imperial Consort?"

Across from her sat the Imperial Consort, clad in a crimson robe embroidered with golden phoenixes, wearing a dazzling crown of singing phoenixes.

Though nearly forty, she looked no older than a girl of sixteen.

Her eyebrows, like crescent moons, radiated strength.

Her eyes, like sleeping phoenixes, held depths unseen.

A single red flower was embroidered at her brow.

The Imperial Consort, radiant with supreme dignity, nonetheless joined the Chang Princess in frivolity—her hand, holding the Six Palaces seal, clumsily threaded a needle, embroidering a fan that looked one-third phoenix, seven-thirds childish.

Yet she showed no care, only growing more enthusiastic, her eyes and lips always carrying a faint, elusive smile.

"Your words are most wise, Chang Princess."

"But now that Gao Ming is gone, the Grand Commandant's post is vacant—who will fill it?"

"By seniority, merit, and prestige, it must come from the Six Ministries, Nine Courts, and Five Directorates. There will surely be endless bickering and noisy court debates."

Hearing this, the Chang Princess smiled and asked: "I say, no need to choose. Appoint the Minister of Justice. He's the most senior among the Six Ministers, and a tireless pillar of state. Since that brat Qin Feng smashed his head, Jingdu has been in chaos—only the Minister of Justice has kept his calm."

The Imperial Consort continued fiddling with her needle and thread, smiling: "That won't do. The Minister of Justice is close to my father. Besides, we women of the Hou Gong should mind our needles and flowers—no need to meddle in such matters. If the Emperor finds out we're discussing this in the inner palace, he'll say we've stretched our hands too far—and scold us."

The Maid, seeing the Imperial Consort still struggling to thread the needle, hurried forward: "Your Grace, let your humble maid help you."

The Imperial Consort's hands froze. She glanced at the Maid. One moment smiling, the next, storm clouds gathered. She snapped: "Do you think you're so special?"

The Maid turned pale with terror, immediately kneeling to beg forgiveness.

The Imperial Consort sniffed, extended her hand: "You meant well, trying to ease my burden. I don't blame you. Rise."

The Maid bowed repeatedly, overflowing with gratitude.

Watching the Imperial Consort's embroidery needle, the Maid gritted her teeth and pressed her own hand against it—blood welled, yet she dared not make a sound.

The Chang Princess saw it all, her heart burning with resentment, but she merely shot the Imperial Consort a silent glare and pretended not to notice.

The Imperial Consort flicked the bloodied needle away, took a fresh one from the spool, stood, and nodded to the Chang Princess: "That's enough for today. You should rest early too."

The Chang Princess didn't look up, her needle flowing like clouds across the fan, as if mocking the Imperial Consort's impatience: "Thank you for your concern, Imperial Consort. You know me—I never sleep early."

The Imperial Consort smiled with narrowed eyes: "Then go home. You can't hide in your father's house forever."

Crack!

The Chang Princess snapped the needle in her hand. Her gentle, benevolent expression instantly turned dark. Finally, before the Imperial Consort's eyes, she tossed the broken needle aside and shook her head with a bitter laugh: "These embroidery needles are terrible quality. I'll have to mention it to the Ministry of Works."

A flicker of triumph crossed the Imperial Consort's brow. She ignored the Chang Princess entirely, swept her long sleeve, and walked away gracefully.

Princess Qiyang stood beside them, not daring to breathe.

This was not the first time the Chang Princess and the Imperial Consort had clashed.

Their smiles and soft words masked a hidden tide—needlepoint against wheat awn.

They had always traded victories.

Just now, the Imperial Consort won face; the Chang Princess won substance.

After all, the Minister of Justice was close to Lord Lin the Protector. The Chang Princess deliberately pushed him toward the Grand Commandant's seat—purely to provoke the Imperial Consort.

If the Ministry of Justice gained the Grand Commandant's post, wouldn't the Lin Family control two of the Three Dukes?

It would be like placing a sword directly on the Liang Emperor's neck—the outcome was obvious!

The Chang Princess's single remark had completely blocked the Lin Family's path. Naturally, the Imperial Consort had to strike back—targeting the Chang Princess's deepest wound: her dead husband.