Princess Yue sighed in appreciation, nestling deeper into the plush cushions. She lay still for a few minutes, trying to quiet her mind and drift back into sleep, but her thoughts lingered. Eventually, she spoke, her voice soft but curious. “Father… did you let Han Ming escape on purpose? Was that part of your strategy to dissolve the Ministry of Foreign Affairs? I know they were obstructing your plans…”

Feng Zhou paused mid-stroke, glancing up from his documents, an amused glint in his eyes. “Still awake, are you?” He set his brush aside for a moment, considering her question. “Yes, that was part of the plan. The Ministry had become an obstacle, its members too entrenched in old rivalries and ambitions. But there was another reason…” He met her gaze, a trace of affection softening his features. “I know how much you’ve been looking forward to this marriage, and your mother has been delaying it, placing obstacles in the way. This plan also serves to move things along for you.”

A slight blush colored Yue’s cheeks, and she averted her eyes. “But now, I can’t see him whenever I wish. I’ll have to travel all the way to the Frost Kingdom for our wedding.”

“That can’t be helped,” Feng Zhou replied with a chuckle, his gaze returning to his work. “It’s one of the consequences of pursuing your desires, I suppose. Perhaps it makes the union that much more meaningful?”

She smiled slightly, running a finger along the embroidered edge of her sleeve as her thoughts turned to her mother. “I wonder when Mother will finally come to terms with it… when she’ll let go of her resentment toward the Northerners and accept Han Ming.”

A shadow crossed the Emperor’s face, and he sighed, setting down his brush with deliberate care. “That’s unlikely, Yue. You know how deeply rooted her hatred for them runs. She still remembers the sight of her mother’s death. The pain of it hasn’t faded, even after all these years. I can’t expect her to forgive them easily, or perhaps ever.”

Yue nodded, understanding the depth of her mother’s bitterness. “I know she’ll never forgive what happened during the war. But with me marrying Han Ming, does it concern you that the Frost Kingdom might view this as a deception and declare war?”

The Emperor’s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, his expression remaining impassive. “That,” he replied enigmatically, “remains to be seen.” His calm demeanor only made her more curious.

“Father!” Yue protested, her lips curving into a playful pout. “You always do this—keeping me in the dark so I’m forced to decipher your schemes and support them! You could simply tell me.”

Feng Zhou chuckled, shaking his head. “How else would you learn? You’re a quick study, my dear, and in time, you’ll master these strategies yourself. Now, enough of your intrigue. Get some sleep, or we may have a wilted princess by the time you next see Han Ming.”

She laughed softly, lying back down and closing her eyes. The Emperor resumed his work, but his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, a soft expression of pride and affection flickering across his face as he returned to his papers.

After Few hours In the Northern Parts of the imperial city’s northern district, activity bustled at the Wu Clan’s Sacred Lotus Sect, one of the seven great sects, renowned for its martial prowess and ancient traditions. This morning, the energy around the sect was charged, and a line of carriages arrived, stopping at the entrance to the main mansion. Each carriage bore the mark of the imperial family, and out of the largest stepped a woman whose presence commanded immediate respect. Empress Momo Zhou had returned to her ancestral home.

Her beauty was legendary, one that had often been spoken of as capable of waging wars or bringing peace. She moved with a quiet confidence, wrapped in luxurious silks woven with the golden lotuses that symbolized her lineage. With her graceful steps and solemn expression, she ascended the grand staircase leading to the mansion’s main doors, flanked by guards who bowed deeply as she passed. Momo returned their respect with a slight nod, her gaze focused ahead, filled with purpose.

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As she entered the inner sanctum, the air grew calm, stilling in the way that happened only in the most hallowed halls of power. The mansion held relics and scrolls chronicling centuries of the Wu Clan’s history, the weight of tradition thick in the air. She made her way toward the inner study, where her father awaited her.

Inside, Wu Tian, head of the Wu Clan and esteemed sect leader of the Sacred Lotus Sect, sat at his grand desk. Despite his eighty years, he exuded the strength of a man decades younger, his posture upright and his hands steady. His face was etched with lines of wisdom and experience, though his piercing gaze held the vitality of someone half his age. His attire, a deep crimson robe with gold accents, matched his authority, and his aura radiated power balanced by discipline.

He was meticulously going through documents, his brush moving with calculated grace across parchment as he tended to the affairs of the sect. The sliding doors opened, and a young attendant announced, “Her Imperial Highness, Empress Momo Zhou.” Wu Tian paused, setting down his brush, and looked up, a faint smile breaking his usually stoic expression as Momo entered the room.

She approached with a calm yet affectionate smile, bowing slightly in respect. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Father?”

Wu Tian gestured for her to sit, his gaze softening as he took in the sight of his daughter. “Yes, far too long,” he replied, his tone warm with paternal pride. “I hear much about you, of course, but seeing you in person… It brings this old heart some comfort.”

Empress Momo’s usually reserved expression softened as she seated herself across from him. “There’s little time to visit these days. Life at court is ever-demanding.”

Wu Tian nodded knowingly. “I can imagine. The Emperor’s side is not an easy place to stand. I know the palace weighs heavily upon you, and yet you bear it with the grace that reflects well on the Wu Clan.”

Empress Momo’s expression grew slightly tense as she broached the reason for her visit. “It is precisely because of that weight, Father, that I am here today. There are matters regarding the court and, more pressingly, the impending marriage arrangements for Yue.”

Wu Tian observed her with a keen gaze. “Ah, the alliance with the Frost Kingdom. Tell me, are your concerns about the arrangement itself, or do they lie deeper?”

Without hesitation, Empress Momo responded bluntly, her words piercing the air with unexpected candor. “I tried to assassinate the Second Prince, Han Ming.”

The statement hung in the air, echoing through the quiet study like a stone thrown into still water. Wu Tian’s expression shifted, his fatherly warmth replaced by the austere stoicism he reserved for encounters with high-ranking generals or political adversaries. He leaned back, folding his hands as his eyes settled on her with the intensity of a commander facing a challenge.

Before Momo could even offer an explanation, he spoke, his tone heavy with resignation. “But he escaped, didn’t he?”

She nodded slightly, meeting his hardened gaze with an equally composed expression.

Wu Tian sighed, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. “You want me to intervene in some way, I assume,” he said flatly, knowing his daughter’s mind too well. “But my answer is no. I am not getting involved.”

Empress Momo’s calm demeanor did not waver as she pressed forward, her tone laced with determination. “Father, you don’t even know what I am suggesting.”

Wu Tian’s gaze remained unyielding. “I have an idea of it,” he replied, his words final, “and my answer is no.”

Momo took a measured breath, her gaze sharpening, her words cutting with precision. “So, you would refuse your own daughter’s request?”

Wu Tian’s expression softened for the briefest of moments, revealing a glint of the man beneath the title of sect leader. “As your father, I would want nothing more than to support you,” he said, the warmth in his voice barely audible, “but as the leader of the Sacred Lotus Sect, I have responsibilities that extend beyond our bloodline, Your Majesty.” He deliberately shifted his tone, his language turning formal as he addressed her by her imperial title.

Momo’s eyes narrowed. She hadn’t anticipated such a refusal, though her father’s stern adherence to duty was something she knew all too well. If he would not heed her as a daughter, she would approach him as Empress.

“I see,” she replied, her voice calm and controlled, though a glint of irritation shimmered in her eyes. She withdrew a rolled parchment from her sleeve, carefully unfolding it and placing it before him on the polished table. “Then, as the Empress, I present this offer to the Sect Leader of the Sacred Lotus.”

Wu Tian looked down at the document, his eyes scanning the calligraphy with measured precision. His brows furrowed slightly as he read, taking in each word with the same intensity he gave to matters of state. At the sight of the official seal stamped prominently at the bottom, his shoulders tightened, and his eyes met hers, now steely with a hint of regret.

“Momo,” he began, his tone somewhere between reproach and sorrow, “I taught you to separate personal emotions from duty. Why have you let them entwine so dangerously?”

Empress Momo’s smile was unyielding, her tone laced with authority. “This is not personal. It is a matter of state—and you are either going to accept or reject this offer, Sect Leader Wu Tian.”

With a heavy sigh, he conceded, his voice weary but respectful. “I must admit, Empress, including the Imperial Pavilion of Law and Order, makes this offer… difficult to refuse.”

A faint smirk played at the corners of Empress Momo’s lips as she watched him relent, her victory evident in her gaze.