Steal my marriage? Turn around and marry the tyrant to take the throne

Chapter 1217: Those who colluded with the Xiongnu soldiers

"Ah."

Shen Zhinian nodded, said no more, and with Fuqiu's support, turned around and slowly walked towards Zhongcui Palace.

The figure in gorgeous palace attire gradually walked away between the snow-covered palace walls, calm and resolute.

Jiang Lingzhou stood where he was, watching the figure disappear around the corner of the palace road, before he let out a breath of cold white air.

He straightened his thin official robe, turned around and walked towards the palace gate.

Jiang Lingzhou's thin back seemed a little lonely in the cold wind, but he also revealed the unique character of a scholar.

Time passed day by day, and in the blink of an eye it was the middle of the twelfth lunar month.

The wind blew the fine snow particles, which hit the window frames of Zhongcui Palace, making a rustling sound.

The hall was warm and cozy, and the gilded beast furnace emitted wisps of green smoke from the incense of agarwood, dispelling the coldness outside.

Shen Zhinian sat upright behind a rosewood desk with a thick booklet presented by the Ministry of Internal Affairs spread out in front of him.

New Year's shopping, palace banquet arrangements, and rewards for each palace...

Everything is as complicated as a spider web.

Her slender fingertips traced across lines of ink characters, her expression calm and focused, and occasionally she would lightly tap the red pen to make concise comments.

Fuqiu added new charcoal carefully.

Handan neatly stacked several palace affairs books sent by Concubine Xue, which had been preliminarily sorted out, on the corner of the desk.

As the end of the year approaches, the Imperial Household Department and the harem are all very busy.

Especially since Nangong Xuanyu promised to confer titles on all six concubines on New Year's Eve, and to promote Shen Zhinian to the rank of Imperial Noble Consort. This was both an overwhelming honor and an invisible pressure.

The title of Imperial Noble Consort is an honor equal to that of a Vice Empress. Just one step away is the Phoenix Throne that all women in the world look up to!

Shen Zhinian was naturally looking forward to it, like a warm spring surging from the still waters.

But she kept this expectation firmly in her heart and did not show it on her face at all.

The closer it gets to New Year's Eve, the more cautious she becomes, and she won't tolerate any mistakes.

It is imperative to pave the road to promotion steadily and achieve unlimited glory!

Fortunately, Shen Zhinian had been in the palace for quite some time, and her confidants, such as Fuqiu and Handan, had already been trained and were capable of handling matters on their own.

Nanny Lin and Nanny Xiao were even more astute, and they managed Zhongcui Palace from top to bottom so that not a single thing could go wrong.

More importantly, after taking over some of the palace affairs, Concubine Xue actually demonstrated her outstanding talent as a manager.

She is cold and aloof, but thoughtful, and she reviews palace affairs in a clear and orderly manner and handles things fairly.

That calm and self-possessed demeanor subtly suppressed many of Shen Zhinian's underlying impetuousness, relieving her of much of the trivial pressure, allowing her to breathe a little and focus on more crucial matters.

"Miss."

Fuqiu's voice was filled with a subtle briskness. "These books sent by Concubine Xue seem to have been handled very prudently. The accounts are clear and the arrangements are thorough."

Shen Zhinian curled the corners of his lips slightly, picked up the top one and flipped through it, which was a record of the distribution of winter charcoal in each palace.

Concubine Xue not only checked the allotment, but also made minor adjustments based on the actual number of people living in each palace and their location, and the reasons for the notes were clear and understandable.

"Sister Xuefei is very thoughtful and a good director."

Shen Zhinian's tone was filled with praise as he put the booklet back where it belonged: "If she's undecided about anything, please help her out."

"Yes."

As they were talking, Li Changde's voice suddenly came from outside the palace: "His Majesty has ordered that the Imperial Concubine Chen should move to the Imperial Study to serve as a writing brush!"

Upon hearing this, Shen Zhinian put down the red pen, and a helpless yet gentle smile flashed across his eyes.

Recently, Nangong Xuanyu seemed to be particularly fond of sending her to the imperial study to serve pens and ink, saying that the ink she ground was evenly distributed and pleasing to the eye when reviewing memorials.

She knew very well that this was just a little affectionate thought from the emperor.

"understood."

Shen Zhinian responded, stood up and was served by Fuqiu. She put on a pheasant gold cloak with silver fox fur trimmings, and adjusted the kingfisher feather hairpin in her bun.

After ensuring her appearance was perfect, she took Fuqiu's hand, got on the prepared warm sedan chair, and headed for the Yangxin Palace.

The warmth in the imperial study grew stronger, and the scent of ambergris was very heavy.

Nangong Xuanyu was hunched over a large rosewood imperial desk, reviewing memorials. His bright yellow dragon robe accentuated his brows, and the lines of his face appeared somewhat cold and hard in the candlelight.

Shen Zhinian took off his cloak and handed it to Fuqiu. After performing the ceremony, he walked lightly to his usual position beside the imperial desk, rolled up his sleeves, and revealed the Lingxiao Wumeng bracelet on his fair wrist.

She picked up the ink stick and slowly ground it in the Duan inkstone. Her movements were smooth and graceful.

The scent of ink gradually diffused in the warm air as Shen Zhinian moved.

She was grinding with concentration, but out of the corner of her eye she keenly caught a glimpse of something strange.

Although Nangong Xuanyu was still writing with great speed, his aura was a little more serious than usual, and an invisible low pressure enveloped him.

Even Li Changde, who was standing in the corner, subconsciously held his breath and concentrated.

For a moment, the only sounds in the hall were the soft sound of the ink stick rubbing against the inkstone and the sound of the red brush scratching across memorials.

Shen Zhinian continued grinding, but her voice softened. "Your Majesty, are the memorials you reviewed today more taxing than usual? I see that Your Majesty seems a little depressed."

Nangong Xuanyu paused his pen tip, and a drop of rich cinnabar ink fell on the edge of the memorial, quickly spreading into a small, dazzling red.

He put down his pen, raised his hand and pinched his eyebrows, then turned his deep gaze to the woman who was grinding ink beside him.

Her eyelashes drooped, her profile was radiant, and her calmness seemed to soothe the restlessness in people's hearts.

"Nian Nian is always so sharp."

The emperor spoke in a low voice with a hint of barely perceptible fatigue. He reached out and grasped her wrist holding the inkstone. The cold jade bracelet rested against his warm palm.

"I just read a secret report."

Shen Zhinian raised his eyes and looked at Nangong Xuanyu with clear eyes: "But... did it make Your Majesty worried?"

The emperor's gaze lingered on her face for a moment before he slowly spoke, "Mulan is the one who is in the enclosure, and it's the matter of the Xiongnu's death warriors."

Shen Zhinian's heart suddenly trembled!

The heinous case of treason at the Duke of Dingguo's mansion had long since been settled. The Liu family was completely destroyed, and Liu Chongshan was even cut into pieces.

But that day, the sudden attack in the enclosure, the well-trained and goal-oriented Hun warriors, were like a thorn in the hearts of Nangong Xuanyu and Shen Zhinian.

Although the emperor sent people to investigate vigorously afterwards, the clues were like a drop in the ocean and the real mastermind behind the incident was never found.

This unresolved threat is more disturbing than the obvious enemy.

Shen Zhinian subconsciously lowered his voice, and asked with a hint of inquiry: "Your Majesty, is there any progress on this matter?"

Nangong Xuanyu did not answer immediately. His slender fingers tapped slowly on the edge of the rosewood imperial desk, and the sound seemed particularly heavy in the silent hall.

The candlelight danced in his deep eyes, casting flickering light and shadows.

After a while, the emperor opened his thin lips slightly and uttered a name, so cold that there was no trace of warmth: "It's Qingyang."