No Additional Meaning

The council chamber fell silent.

The steam rising from the teacups had originally curled lazily upward. Now, however, it seemed as though an invisible hand had gently pressed it down, leaving it clinging to the surface of the tea, afraid to move.

Cui Shifan stared blankly at Gu Chengyin.

His hand was still held in the posture of someone lifting a cup, his fingers gripping the saucer beneath it.

The tea inside had stopped steaming. Its blue-green surface was as still as a piece of solidified jade, without even the slightest ripple.

Through the thin veil of mist above the teacup, Cui Shifan’s gaze fell straight onto Gu Chengyin’s face.

His pupils had widened, filled with surprise and a complexity he could not conceal, while his mind raced to process this entirely unexpected news.

After the imperial decree of betrothal had been issued, Cui Shifan had already abandoned the idea of marrying Cui Zilu to Gu Chengyin.

It had not been an easy decision.

Cui Zilu was his only daughter, the Cui clan’s legitimate daughter, the beloved jewel he had raised in the palm of his hand.

More than anyone, Cui Shifan understood what Cui Zilu felt for Gu Chengyin.

It was not the calculated affection of a noble-family marriage arranged between equals. It was a woman’s untainted admiration for the man in her heart, free of any desire for gain.

Whenever Cui Zilu mentioned Gu Chengyin, the light in her eyes was impossible to hide.

Cui Shifan had seen that kind of light only once before—in his youth, in the eyes of Cui Zilu’s mother.

That was why he had wanted to fulfill her wish, to use an alliance between the Cui clan and the Crown Princess’s faction.

It would secure a long-term path forward for the Cui clan, while also giving his daughter the home she truly desired.

But then the imperial decree came.

A marriage decree.

Lin Qingyan.

Fairy Jingzhe.

When that bright-yellow imperial decree was issued from the warm chamber and passed through the Grand Secretariat before making its way into the streets and alleys, Cui Shifan knew that road had been cut off.

It was not that he was unwilling to take it. Emperor Luo had personally blocked it with a single decree.

The Cui clan's legitimate daughter could never become someone’s second wife.

This was a matter of dignity—the dignity of a thousand-year-old noble house, and the watchful eyes of the Cui clan’s ancestors in heaven.

No matter how much Cui Shifan doted on his daughter, no matter how highly he regarded Gu Chengyin, he could never allow Cui Zilu to become Gu Chengyin’s second wife.

That would not be affection. It would be humiliation.

Thus, the marriage alliance between the Cui clan and the Crown Princess’s faction had naturally fallen apart.

Yet now, Gu Chengyin was saying that Her Highness wanted Cui Zilu to take up the position of Chief Lady Official.

It was not Gu Chengyin who wanted it. It was Her Highness.

Cui Shifan understood the distinction perfectly.

If Gu Chengyin wanted it, then it was merely his personal intention, a recommendation from the Junior Tutor to the Crown Prince regarding his successor.

A recommendation could be accepted or politely declined.

Even if it was declined, it would not cause any real damage. At most, Gu Chengyin would simply find someone else.

But if Her Highness wanted it, then it represented the Crown Princess’s will.

That meant Luo Zhao had already agreed.

The Crown Princess’s faction had reached a united decision. All that remained was for Cui Shifan to give his assent.

The moment he nodded, the Cui clan would automatically become half a member of the Crown Princess’s faction because of this decision.

Just as the Shangguan clan had before.

The effect would even be better than marrying Cui Zilu to Gu Chengyin.

Giving one’s daughter in marriage was a matter of private affection. Serving as Chief Lady Official was a matter of public duty.

It would place the Cui clan directly within the core workings of the Crown Princess’s faction.

Cui Zilu would come into contact with the faction’s most important secrets, participate in its major decisions, and serve as the most crucial bridge between the Crown Princess and the imperial court.

Every move she made, every word she spoke, and every decision she reached would, imperceptibly, represent the Cui clan’s position—and would in turn affect the Cui clan’s fate.

Such a bond was far tighter and more secure than a marriage.

That was why Cui Shifan did not immediately respond.

His gaze shifted from Gu Chengyin’s face to the teacup in his hand.

The blue-green surface was as still as a mirror, reflecting his furrowed brows and the heavy solemnity in his eyes.

There was a reason for this. The place, the setting, the timing, and the people present when Gu Chengyin had delivered this news were all far too strange.

The council chamber of the Grand Secretariat.

This was the central hub through which the entire Da Luo court operated, the heart of the empire’s administration.

Hundreds of official documents passed through here every day. Every character written on them could affect the life, death, honor, or disgrace of countless people thousands of miles away.

Every wall here had ears. Every window let in the wind. In every corner, there might be a pair of unseen eyes.

Any word spoken here would reach the ears of those who needed to hear it in a matter of moments.

Anything that happened here would soon become an open secret throughout the imperial court.

Logically speaking, for such an important matter, the best course would have been for Gu Chengyin to seek him out in private.

They could have chosen a place without a third person present—the study in the Cui residence, perhaps, or the secret chamber in the Crown Princess’s palace.

Even a private room in some teahouse would have sufficed. The two of them could have sat down face-to-face, poured the tea, and closed the door.

They could then have discussed the matter carefully from beginning to end before Cui Shifan gave his position.

Agree. Disagree. Or agree, but with conditions.

That was how a matter like this ought to be handled.

Not like this.

Not by announcing it openly in the Grand Secretariat, a place where news could never be kept secret, and doing so in the presence of Hu Juzheng and Shangguan Yuan.

To announce here that Cui Zilu would succeed to the position of Chief Lady Official was equivalent to posting the news directly on the Grand Secretariat’s notice board.

Before long, the entire imperial court would know. In fact, some people might already know now.

This meant that Gu Chengyin’s purpose was not merely to make Cui Zilu the new Chief Lady Official.

Or rather, having Cui Zilu take up the position was itself only one part of his true objective.

It was a pretext placed in the open—a fulcrum meant to pry at a far greater game of strategy.

Gu Chengyin had deliberately chosen to reveal the matter in the council chamber of the Grand Secretariat, in front of the three Pavilion Elders.

He was not seeking Cui Shifan’s opinion.

He wanted more people to learn of the matter, so that the news would spread throughout the imperial court as quickly as possible.

Hu Juzheng and Shangguan Yuan had realized this as well.

The two exchanged a glance.

Hu Juzheng’s eyelids lifted slightly, while the corners of Shangguan Yuan’s mouth tightened just a little.

There were no words and no gestures—only the kind of understanding shared between old foxes.

They had realized the same thing:

Gu Chengyin was making a move on the board, and they were being used as pieces upon it.

Hu Juzheng spoke first.

“Pavilion Elder Cui, I suddenly remembered that there is something I need to inspect with Grand Secretary Shangguan. We won’t disturb you and Junior Preceptor Gu any longer.”

Shangguan Yuan immediately followed up. “Indeed.”

Cui Shifan knew that Hu Juzheng and Shangguan Yuan were taking the initiative to withdraw.

He was just about to nod when Gu Chengyin’s voice rang out.

“What matter could possibly require the two of you to inspect it personally?”

“I’m only conveying Her Highness’s message. There is no other meaning behind it.”