Pei Jingyi answered dismissively, “I didn’t notice.”
“The General didn’t notice because the Chancellor gave nothing.” Shen Jun looked directly at Pei Jingyi, his voice sinking. “That day, it was Empress Gu who prepared the gift on the Chancellor’s behalf.”
Pei Jingyi’s eyes shifted slightly.
“General Pei must know that the Late Emperor loved these hollow rituals.” Shen Jun’s voice was extremely low and meaningful. “Every year for his birthday, the civil and military officials racked their brains to find rare treasures just to win a imperial smile.”
Pei Jingyi certainly knew about these things. During the years his father served as a Jiedushi, he sent people to the capital every year with gifts—Ferghana horses from the Western Regions, thousand-year-old coral, pearls from the Eastern Sea. He had almost tied himself up in a ribbon to send into the palace.
Emperor Rui was greedy; he would squeeze oil even from a shriveled sesame seed.
Shen Jun’s gaze was cold, yet his aura remained restrained. “But the Chancellor never gave the Late Emperor a single gift. Every year, Empress Gu sent them on his behalf.”
Pei Jingyi turned his head away with a lack of interest, though a hint of an unobservable smile touched his eyes.
Seeing his attitude, the chill in Shen Jun’s eyes grew even more intense. “Does the General know what the Chancellor gave when the current Emperor ascended the throne?”
Pei Jingyi raised an eyebrow at a subtle angle, having guessed the answer. “The Chancellor wouldn’t give anything, regardless.”
“The General guessed correctly.” Shen Jun’s voice was as cold as ice, speaking each word distinctly. “The Chancellor simply handed the imperial crown made by the Internal Affairs Bureau to His Majesty.”
Pei Jingyi’s lips twitched slightly. He lowered his eyes, his corners turning up in a faint smile as he said casually, “Master Shen’s memory is truly excellent.”
“Last month, I went to the Hall of Chaste Government to see the Emperor.” Shen Jun’s memory was indeed more than just good. “There was an empty brocade box on the imperial desk. That was the box the Chancellor used to hold the crown; the Emperor still treats it as a treasure.”
The smile on Pei Jingyi’s face froze completely.
Shen Jun was now smiling extremely gently and calmly as he spoke. “The Chancellor has held a high position for many years and never gives gifts lightly. Neither the Late Emperor nor the current Emperor has ever received a gift from him.”
“That handkerchief of yours is the only time he has ever given something to someone.”
Pei Jingyi glanced at him, showing a playful expression. “Why didn’t Master Shen say so earlier?”
“If I had known the Chancellor’s gift was so precious—” his voice was full of mockery, sounding both true and false, “I would surely carry it against my heart every day and place it under my pillow every night, staying close to the Chancellor day and night.”
Shen Jun’s face darkened instantly.
Even when the Late Emperor was alive, the Chancellor had entered the cabinet as a commoner to manage the pivot of government. After the new Emperor ascended, he took total control, a man whose single word could decide the rise and fall of the world. He was granted a seat before the Emperor and didn’t have to bow—a man the Son of Heaven addressed as “Chancellor.” The entire court held their breath in his presence, not even daring to breathe too loudly.
How could such a person be used as a joke about “staying close day and night”?!
The hand in Shen Jun’s sleeve clenched until his knuckles turned white. “General, watch your words. The Chancellor’s reputation is not for the likes of us to gossip about.”
With that, he flicked his broad sleeves and turned directly toward the main room, straightening his robes before kneeling respectfully.
“Your subordinate, Shen Jun, asks for an audience with the Chancellor.”
His voice was clear and upright, as if those intimate words had never reached his ears. His figure on the blue stone floor was as straight as a pine, with his official robes spread out flawlessly.
Pei Jingyi let out a soft sneer.
Just saying “staying close day and night” was enough to make this “rabbit” this angry? If he saw what happened in that room the other day, wouldn’t he be so enraged he’d try to kill someone on the spot?
A soft cough came from inside. “Enter.”
The thick red lacquer door creaked open. A small servant girl poked her head out to look at Shen Jun. The room was filled with a warm fragrance—the scent of medicinal soup mixed with a red clay stove.
The light inside was soft. Gu Huaiyu leaned halfway on a couch, his outer robe unfastened. At his feet was a copper basin with cloud patterns. The medicinal soup was a faint brownish-red, with steam rising from it. A young servant girl was kneeling by his feet, helping him remove his boots.
The scent of Angelica, Szechuan Lovage, and Ginger Peel filled the air—a prescription specifically for cold hands and feet. It was clearly a daily formula, prepared with extreme gentleness and expense by the imperial physicians.
Shen Jun kept his eyes straight as he saluted. “Chancellor, the Jiangzhou refugees have been settled.”
He took a document from his robe and presented it with both hands. “Your subordinate has set up twelve distribution points in the city to hand out cotton clothes. Each is allocated according to the household registry; as of last night, a hundred households have already received them.”
Gu Huaiyu was already thinking about this matter. He always trusted Shen Jun’s work, but this small task of distributing cotton clothes was not an ordinary administrative affair.
Shen Jun came from a scholarly family; his hardest days were only a few years as an honest local official. After entering the capital, he had soared straight to the top. He was a man of keen mind and steady action—a perfect pawn for dealing with the Pure Stream Faction.
