Lone King 05

Thus, the spies originally planted in the palace began to defect one after another. Of course, there were those who resisted, but those who refused to comply would "accidentally" fall into a well and drown.

Fuhai and his two deputies now lived much better lives. In the past, they were merely superficially respected by other eunuchs, who would gossip behind their backs. Now, even the palace attendants greeted them with deference.

Beyond that, Fang Zhiyi also taught the three of them martial arts, which Fuhai found rather astonishing—since when did the Emperor know how to fight? Although Fang Zhiyi claimed it was something he had learned as a child from a mysterious master, Fuhai didn’t quite believe it. Still, he wasn’t foolish enough to question the Emperor.

Fang Zhiyi’s troubles, however, had only just begun. Since his marriage to the Empress, he had never once visited her chambers. Though he had used excuses like drunkenness or falling into a pond, it was clear he could no longer delay the matter.

With Sima Ci away from the capital, Sima Cheng decided to follow his father’s example and barged straight into the inner palace to confront Fang Zhiyi, demanding to know why he hadn’t consummated the marriage with his sister.

"A reckless brute," Fang Zhiyi concluded inwardly, though outwardly he smiled and said, "General Sima, is this really why you’ve come to see me?"

Sima Cheng had some grasp of the etiquette between ruler and subject, but not much. "Your Majesty, ever since my sister entered the palace, you’ve never visited her. Do you have some grievance against our Sima family?"

Fuhai, standing nearby with his head bowed, was shocked. Such words were outright disrespectful!

But Fang Zhiyi merely patted Sima Cheng on the shoulder. "That’s not the case at all." He turned and ordered Fuhai to prepare wine and dishes. When Sima Cheng tried to decline, Fang Zhiyi cut him off with, "I want to share a drink with my brother-in-law!"

And so, Sima Cheng inevitably fell into the trap.

After three rounds of drinks, Fang Zhiyi slung an arm around Sima Cheng’s shoulders. "You know what? Hmm? It’s not that I don’t want to… with your sister, my wife. It’s just… she’s too good. I feel like I’m not worthy of her." His words were slurred.

Sima Cheng, equally drunk, protested, "Your Majesty, you mustn’t say that! Who dares say you’re unworthy? Tell me, and I’ll cut them down!"

Fang Zhiyi pointed at himself. "I said it."

Sima Cheng stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. "You’re overthinking it. My sister may have been raised delicately, but in the end, she’s just a woman. Isn’t a woman’s fate to marry? And she married you—the Emperor! What’s this talk of worthiness? Tell me, Your Majesty, has someone been gossiping? I’ll rip out their tongue!"

The eunuchs listening nearby frowned. Had this been any other emperor, the Sima family would have faced annihilation today. But Fang Zhiyi let it slide.

The two drank until they were calling each other brothers, and Sima Cheng left in high spirits.

Yet Fang Zhiyi found himself in a dilemma. He had never been forced into consummating a marriage before!

Fueled by alcohol, he waved his hand. "Prepare the carriage—to the Phoenix Roost Palace!"

A grand procession arrived outside the Empress’s chambers. The palace servants, having received advance notice, lit lanterns to welcome the Emperor. Fang Zhiyi staggered in, dismissed everyone with a drunken wave, and locked the doors behind him.

Facing the woman in her thin, delicate robes, he truly felt at a loss.

He opened his mouth several times but couldn’t find the words.

Finally, Sima Ying spoke. "Does Your Majesty have something to say?"

Fang Zhiyi took two steps forward.

Sima Ying rose and then slowly knelt. "Your Majesty, this humble consort is guilty."

"Eh?" Fang Zhiyi was momentarily confused.

"My father and brother monopolize the court’s affairs and force Your Majesty’s hand. I see it all, yet as a woman, I have no right to question their decisions." She lifted her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "But I was raised on the teachings of loyalty to the sovereign and love for the nation. I know of Your Majesty’s affection for the late Empress, yet because of me..."

Fang Zhiyi no longer pretended to be drunk. He straightened, his gaze cold as he studied this fragile woman.

"I know Your Majesty despises the Sima family. I, too, bear the name Sima. Do as you wish with me—I will endure it all!" Sima Ying pressed her forehead to the floor once more.

A flicker of killing intent stirred in Fang Zhiyi’s heart. Her insight alone proved her intelligence, but she was a Sima. Could she be left alive?

After a pause, he sighed heavily. "I do not blame you. But will you help me?"

Sima Ying looked up, tear-streaked. "This humble consort would die ten thousand times without hesitation!"

"No need for death. Just say that we’ve consummated the marriage." Ignoring her stunned expression, he strode to the bed and collapsed into sleep.

Sima Ying watched the slumbering Fang Zhiyi, then crept closer, lying beside him to keep watch.

"A triumphant return for Chancellor Sima!" Days later, the news arrived, and Fang Zhiyi rushed out to greet him—when it came to playing his role, he ranked among the best.

In the court, Sima Ci strode in wearing full armor. Fang Zhiyi eyed him, then the sword at his waist, but said nothing. Truth be told, Sima Ci was a formidable man—managing state affairs remotely while winning battles. Any emperor should be overjoyed to have such a minister.

But then Sima Ci’s announcement left the entire court in shock.

"Your Majesty, this old subject is aged. This campaign nearly cost me my life. I beg Your Majesty’s permission to retire!" His expression was sincere as he knelt.

"What?"

"Grand Marshal, you can’t!"

"The court cannot lose you!"

"Without the Grand Marshal, are we to rely on that pleasure-seeking—ahem."

The murmurs swelled until Fang Zhiyi slammed the table and rose. "You!" He pointed at the officials. "It’s all of you! Your incompetence is what forces my mentor—my father-in-law—to toil so!" Descending the steps, he reached Sima Ci and helped him up, eyes brimming with tears.

"Father-in-law—no, Chancellor Sima!" His voice grew firm. "You cannot leave. I cannot lose you! The court cannot lose you!"

Sima Ci’s eyes shone with emotion.

Fang Zhiyi knew it was an act, but so what? They were just seeing who played the better role.

Sima Ci finally let go of his wariness toward Fang Zhiyi. He had heard in the army about Fang Zhiyi drinking with his son before visiting the Empress’s chambers. His ever-suspicious nature made him wonder if the Emperor had ulterior motives. But now, it seemed Fang Zhiyi was still the same street rat—well, at least he looked more like an emperor now.

"Your Majesty!"

"Chancellor!"

The officials stood awkwardly—after all, applause hadn’t been invented yet, and clapping was reserved for keeping rhythm. In the end, Sima Cheng and Sima Jue could bear it no longer and stepped forward to separate the "deeply bonded" ruler and minister.