"Just wait and see, then." Brian Carter didn’t take him seriously at all, but his gaze fell on William Clark, as if he’d discovered a glimmer of something special in this guy, so he narrowed his eyes, already scheming in his mind.

William Clark glared back at him. "What are you looking at? I’m hungry again, let’s eat!"

"There’s no rice, only porridge." Brian Carter propped up his head, bargaining.

"Then I want five bowls."

Brian Carter’s body jolted, cursing inwardly: "You scoundrel."

……

Hebi Palace, Qiyun Hall.

Inside the bedchamber, the ceiling beams were made of cloud-patterned sandalwood, the lamps on the crystal jade walls glowed softly. In the center of the chamber, the gauze canopy over the bed was embroidered all over with pearl-studded silver-threaded begonia flowers. Outside, a gentle breeze stirred the silk curtains, making the drapes billow. Behind these purple curtains was a faintly visible figure, leaning over a golden desk, reading something by the soft lamplight. On her head, a golden phoenix imperial crown could be vaguely seen; every time she wrote at the desk, her shoulders would move slightly, and the tassels on the crown would tremble with her motion.

She had been sitting here for a long time, at least an hour, yet still maintained this posture.

Outside the curtains stood a graceful figure—none other than Abigail Grant, the empress’s attendant. She wore a bright red female official’s robe, standing motionless, her beautiful face expressionless, like an ice sculpture, always awaiting the empress’s command.

Abigail Grant, as usual, waited for Her Majesty to review the memorials. Lately, the empress had been in a poor mood; Abigail Grant had always understood her thoughts. Now, with the empress’s recent ascension, everything was in need of attention. Though all the officials praised her, behind the praise lurked enormous dangers.

First, Her Majesty’s surname was Wu, not Li.

Second, Her Majesty was a woman.

In the flourishing Tang era, women’s status was not low, but since the time of Yao and Shun, never had a woman been emperor. The empress had indeed set a precedent, but also faced much doubt.

A few days ago, the Ministry of Finance requested an investigation into the cause of death of the former crown prince, Li Hong.

A month before that, a senior official submitted a memorial reporting that in Shu, a hen had crowed like a rooster, causing alarm in the provinces and counties, rumors spreading everywhere. Some criticized this, believing it was a sign of imbalance between yin and yang, of heaven and earth turned upside down.

These seemingly ordinary reports clung to the empress’s heart like a nightmare.

Abigail Grant looked at the slightly weary figure behind the curtains, her thoughts drifting far away, unable to help but wonder who was manipulating things behind these undercurrents.

"Ahem…"

A soft cough came from behind the curtains.

Abigail Grant pulled her thoughts back, pressed her red lips into a slight smile, bowed, and said, "Your Majesty, do you have any orders?"

The person behind the curtains sat still for a long time, then seemed to tap her fingers on the table, making a faint sound, and then lazily said, "Has the governor of Hengzhou, Pei Zhen, been brought in for questioning?"

Abigail Grant replied, "The authorities have already investigated; it’s been confirmed as a false accusation."

A deep silence fell behind the curtains.

She seemed to pick up her vermilion brush and write something, but after the time it takes for half a stick of incense to burn, she suddenly said, "But I already issued an order to have him questioned."

A short sentence, her voice as thin as silk, yet carrying a bone-chilling coldness.

Though the wrong person had been taken and the investigation was unfounded, since he had already been tortured and then reinstated, who could guarantee he wouldn’t bear a grudge?

So the person behind the curtains spoke slowly, "You draft the edict. Let Suo Yuanli handle this matter. Leave no future trouble."

Abigail Grant sighed inwardly, but her lovely face still showed no expression. She only bowed and said, "Your servant obeys."

"There’s one more thing. In Luoyang, there’s a Ruchun Restaurant. Hong’er once dined there and was very fond of the food and wine, even left a calligraphy piece. Look into this matter."

Abigail Grant remained expressionless, like a puppet, and bowed again: "Your servant obeys."

Chapter 7 Can We Eat?

Abigail Grant walked with lotus steps to Hebi Palace.

She summoned a palace maid and instructed, "Go find out about that Ruchun Restaurant, especially the origin of its signboard. Make sure to confirm it clearly."

As Abigail Grant said this, her cold, beautiful face brightened a little. "Since you’re going out of the palace, have someone bring back a bowl of tofu pudding. The imperial chefs here only make rich, greasy dishes—truly sickening."

An hour later, a eunuch knelt in the edict-drafting room.

Abigail Grant was seated behind the desk. Though foreign-style chairs and stools were now common, in the palace kneeling was still the norm. Abigail Grant wore only a light green dress. After all, she was still young. When serving Her Majesty, her face was like an iceberg, but here, she showed a hint of silliness.

She was busy dealing with a bowl of tofu pudding, and after a few bites, she frowned. "Salty? Why isn’t it sweet? These tofu vendors who put in salt are even more damnable than rebels. Hmph…" She wrinkled her nose and decisively concluded, "Salty traitors, deserve death!"

Even so, she still finished the bowl with great interest, then looked up contentedly at the eunuch kneeling in the room. "Did you find out?"

"I did."

"Speak." Abigail Grant straightened up, her eyes narrowed as if dozing, but the half-hidden gaze beneath her lids sparkled.