“Where are the yellow robes?” Zhao Changhe remarked. “Today’s so-called draping in yellow robes was done without an actual imperial robe. Strictly speaking, that violates every modicum of the proper rites those pedants harp on. Amazing how they all pretended not to notice.”0

After the imperial court adjourned, Xia Chichi slumped against the side hall’s chair, exhausted, sipping tea lazily. Tang Wanzhuang sat beside her, also drinking tea, completely unconcerned with ceremony. The minister had not waited for a formal invitation to sit, and Her Majesty could not be bothered to care.0

They looked less like empress and ministers and more like members of a family gathering after a long day.0

Vermillion Bird had stormed off the moment the session ended, fuming, her destination unknown.0

Zhao Changhe had a vague sense of where she had gone and whom she was making way for. The topic he had brought up just now seemed like subtle preparation for the person about to arrive. Was he instinctively covering for her?0

Xia Chichi, too...0