Chapter 7: Damn It

At this moment, Fang Xu was wandering all over the imperial palace, even though the young ladies earlier had explained the route to him. Still, he managed to get lost—after all, the palace of Great Qin was not a place just anyone could easily become familiar with. Along the way, the young eunuchs and palace maids he encountered would nod politely toward him.

After all, these palace attendants all knew of Fang Xu, the eccentric imperial consort. Who else, after being favored by the Emperor, would choose to throw themselves into a well the very next day? Fortunately, Fang Xu hadn’t died; otherwise, it would have been an enormous disgrace for Qin.

Many could not fathom why Fang Xu had tried to end his life. Yet Fang Xu, having only recently arrived in this world, understood the reason quite well. Who could have guessed that the Emperor of Qin was, in fact, a woman? Had that been common knowledge, Fang Xu would likely not have been so involved.

After all, who relishes being forced into submission? Fang Xu was no “Lord Rabbit,” nor did he harbor any such peculiar preferences—neither had his predecessor, evidently. Otherwise, he would not have chosen to preserve his chastity by leaping into a well.

Now, however, Fang Xu paid no mind to the palace gossip. He stopped to inquire with passing eunuchs and maids: where exactly did the Emperor hold the morning court?

Given Fang Xu’s previous suicide attempt, who among the attendants would dare withhold directions? If they refused to answer and Fang Xu tried again to take his own life, or perhaps dashed his head against a pillar, who could bear responsibility for such a thing?

Of course, none of these attendants knew what Fang Xu was up to now. They simply assumed that, after his ordeal, he’d damaged his mind somewhat.

“Your Highness! Quick, stop Her Highness! Someone, come here!” The shouts of the young ladies who usually attended him rang out behind Fang Xu just as he finished his questions. He knew there was no way he could stop now.

He hurriedly thanked the attendants and pressed on, leaving behind several utterly bewildered eunuchs.

Within the palace grounds, a most unexpected sight unfolded: Fang Xu ran ahead, chased by over a dozen eunuchs and maids. If not for his imperial attire, one might have mistaken the scene for a thief being pursued.

Meanwhile, within the Grand Golden Hall, the girl who had blushed so shyly the night before now sat upright upon the throne. Below, the assembled ministers cast odd glances up at Qin Suwen. The expression on her face was making the officials uneasy.

Why was that? For someone so young to ascend the throne, Qin Suwen had to possess considerable talent. To think otherwise would be self-deception. Yet today, where once her face was set in cold, severe lines, she would now and then break into a smile, as if recalling some private joke. This left the ministers staring at the floor, not daring to speak.

After all, she was their sovereign, and they were her subjects—who among them dared speculate about the ruler’s mind?

“Your Majesty, I have a matter to discuss!” At last, one man stepped forth. Upon seeing who it was, many in attendance struggled to suppress a smile, fighting to keep their amusement from showing.

“Yes? What is it?” Qin Suwen’s smile vanished, as if she herself did not know why she had been smiling moments before.

“Your Majesty, the northern barbarians have been repeatedly harassing our borders. What does Your Majesty intend to do about it?” This minister oversaw border affairs. The kingdom of Qin had only recently been established, and already the barbarians were growing restless.

Before, while the Eight Kingdoms had yet to be unified, the barbarians dared not threaten the central plains. The rulers of those kingdoms all understood: internal disputes were family matters, but if outsiders intervened, the Eight Kingdoms would unite to drive them out, then settle their own affairs in due course.

That was why, when the Eight Kingdoms still existed, the barbarians never dared entertain notions of conquest. Now that Qin had swallowed the other kingdoms and ruled the heart of the world, the northern tribes grew impatient, seizing upon the instability of a nascent regime. Should they manage to subdue Qin, it would be their greatest triumph.

Qin Suwen knew this well. She had dealt before with Murong Xi, the barbarian warlord, and considered Murong Xi far more dangerous than herself.

“What do my loyal ministers think?” Qin Suwen knew that matters of this magnitude required debate among both civil and military officials—a ruler’s preference alone was not enough.

One might wonder, since she was Emperor, why not simply decide herself? The answer was that, with the kingdom so newly founded, the ministers were divided into civil and military factions, each wary of the other. Qin Suwen wished to avoid even the slightest appearance of favoritism, and so left the question to be settled by open debate.

At her words, the officials narrowed their eyes, each a seasoned strategist, well aware of the gravity of the situation. None would speak hastily.

The barbarians’ hunger for the heartlands was an ancient thing. Yet, for centuries, the central plains had never been able to eradicate the threat entirely. The reason was simple: the barbarians were fierce and warlike, quick to violence at the slightest provocation. The central plains could not match their ferocity. When the Eight Kingdoms joined forces, they could resist—now, the newly unified Qin could not afford to be so reckless.

“Damn it! I’ve finally found it!” At last, Fang Xu had located the Grand Golden Hall. He leaned against a pillar, panting for breath. He couldn’t help but admit that he was woefully out of shape—how far had he really run? And yet he was already so short of breath!