He glanced fearfully at the Censor Wynn lying on the ground, unsure if he was dead or alive. Curling his lips, he lifted his chin, his smile full of superiority.

Idiot, trying to go head-to-head with Evan Foster, that little Bai Ze? Doesn’t he know Evan Foster has plenty of intelligence in his hands? He knows everything you know and everything you don’t. If you don’t want to become a laughingstock, you’d better just behave yourself.

Thank goodness he chose to keep his head down and stay out of trouble—otherwise, the one lying on the ground coughing up blood and unconscious might have been two people.

Suddenly, from the upper seat, the The Old Emperor asked in a low voice, “Ivy Cui, what do you think of my handling of Ian Lewis?”

Ivy Cui suddenly shivered, and hurriedly replied, “Your Majesty’s handling is, of course, perfectly just and fair. The former imperial son-in-law insulted the princess, which is an insult to the royal family. To say he overstepped his bounds and harbored treasonous intent is not an unfounded accusation.”

The The Old Emperor continued, “But I think what Amy Wynn said also makes some sense. The principle of a husband’s authority over his wife is a secular norm. If I intervene by force, wouldn’t that be foolish?”

After hearing this, Ivy Cui put on a smile and said, “If it were an ordinary family, a wife destroying her husband’s family would indeed be a major ethical issue. But in the court, in the imperial family, what does it matter? Is it really worth bringing up in court?”

The The Old Emperor raised his eyebrows slightly.

Ivy Cui went on, “Besides, we are Your Majesty’s subjects, sitting high in the halls of power, supported by the military and the people, enjoying the emperor’s great favor. Instead of thinking about how to share your burdens or speak for the people, we’re tangled up in trivial matters like whether a family can uphold the husband’s authority? That’s truly absurd!”

He stepped forward, his voice booming: “If the court spent every day debating such things, wouldn’t all the officials become a joke? They’d all turn into petty, self-serving men, content to hold office and do nothing!”

Evan Foster almost slapped his thigh.

Brilliant!

This Ivy Cui really knows how to talk—his last-ditch self-rescue is pretty impressive.

He couldn’t help but feel regretful—why couldn’t he learn to do that himself? If he could, maybe he’d already be in the emperor’s good graces.

The The Old Emperor was satisfied, waved his hand, and cut off Ivy Cui’s further words of loyalty: “Since that’s the case, the original verdict for the Duke of Song family will stand. You can report to the Ministry of Revenue later and serve as a junior official. As it happens, my Grace is also in the Ministry of Revenue, serving as a department secretary.”

Ivy Cui really hadn’t noticed that Princess Grace was also at court today. Hearing the The Old Emperor say this, he barely managed to suppress his urge to criticize women holding office. Clutching his nine generations of kin, he cautiously said, “Thank you, Your Majesty, for your grace.”

He added, “So Her Highness is the department secretary, in charge of document management.”

Then, from a distance, he bowed to Princess Grace and respectfully said, “I look forward to your guidance in the future, Your Highness.”

Ivy Cui was no ivory-tower college student; he understood the emperor’s meaning very well.

—Wasn’t it just asking him to support Princess Grace in the Ministry of Revenue? Fine! Support! He’d support her in everything!

The The Old Emperor was even more pleased.

Meanwhile, the college student was still pestering his good colleague: “What rank is a junior official in the Ministry of Revenue?”

The Ministry of War secretary replied numbly, “Fifth rank, subordinate.”

The college student said with innocent stupidity, “From regular fourth rank down to subordinate fifth rank—not that big a demotion.”

The Ministry of War secretary: “That’s not quite right. Censors have a special status and the privilege of reporting on rumors—meaning, for one matter, they don’t need evidence. As long as they’ve heard something, they can raise it in court. But a junior official in the Ministry of Revenue is much more ordinary.”

Evan Foster nodded like a pecking chick: “Mm-hmm! Got it! It’s like falling from the heavens to the mortal world.”

The Ministry of War secretary: “……”

Well, that’s not wrong, actually.

After that, there was nothing major at court, and the session soon ended.

—Which left quite a few ministers disappointed; they’d thought Evan Foster might reveal some more explosive news.

The The Old Emperor rode his palanquin to the Wuying Hall to review documents. Thinking of today’s sweeping victory in court, he was in an excellent mood.

His eyes glued to the paperwork, he didn’t even look up as he said to the chief eunuch, “Why are you so clueless? Why hasn’t the empress’s soup been brought in yet?”

After an awkward silence, the chief eunuch stammered in fear, “Your Majesty, there’s… there’s no soup.”

The The Old Emperor looked up abruptly, eyes wide: “Impossible! The empress brings me soup every day after court.”

The chief eunuch hesitated, then braced himself and said, “Your Majesty, there really is no soup.”

The The Old Emperor raised his voice, insisting, “Impossible! It must still be on the way. You lazy old servant, why don’t you go check?”

The chief eunuch hurriedly agreed, tiptoed out, and the The Old Emperor, satisfied, lowered his head to continue reviewing documents. After a while, the palace doors opened again. The The Old Emperor looked up to see the chief eunuch returning empty-handed.

“The soup?”

“Your Majesty, I went all the way to Her Highness’s quarters. Her Highness said…” The chief eunuch wanted to wipe his sweat but didn’t dare, his body and face stiff as he repeated, “Her Highness said, if Your Majesty wants soup, you can ask the imperial kitchen to make it.”

The The Old Emperor slapped the table, his face full of indignation: “She—”

“How dare she!”

The The Old Emperor fumed, “She’s ignoring me just because of a disloyal maid?”

The The Old Emperor grumbled, “It’s because I’ve spoiled her too much!”

Gripping his brush, the The Old Emperor muttered, “Let’s see how long she can stand it if I never go to her palace again!”