Edward Harris recalled the news he had heard at the palace banquet that night:

　　The current emperor, William Thompson, was the late emperor’s third son. There were rumors that his birth mother, Consort Xian, had died at the hands of the then empress, Collins.

　　Back then, the power of the empress’s family was immense, and the Crown Prince’s faction dominated the court. Even though Collins was suspected of harming imperial consorts, the late emperor never held her accountable.

　　No one expected the Crown Prince’s faction to collapse overnight.

　　After the late emperor passed away, an edict was issued ordering Empress Collins to be buried with him.

　　The third prince, William Thompson, ascended the throne, and only then was Collins’s vast power gradually diminished.

　　A troubling suspicion slowly surfaced in Edward Harris’s mind. “...Could it be that all the money went to the late Crown Prince?”

　　Jason Grant nodded wearily. “In the early years, the Crown Prince’s faction practically treated the Ministry of Revenue as their private treasury, endlessly reaching in for money. Plus, the late emperor favored the Crown Prince, so my father couldn’t afford to offend the future sovereign and could only hand over the funds. Later, when the Crown Prince fell from power in the struggle for the throne, that money was lost for good, and the huge deficit couldn’t be filled so quickly.”

　　Edward Harris tucked his hands into his sleeves and sighed.

　　Although Collins no longer held absolute power, a centipede dies but never falls down completely. The former imperial uncle, Philip Collins, still served as the current Right Chancellor, someone Matthew Grant could not possibly get involved with.

　　What’s more, since this involved factional strife, the situation was even more sensitive.

　　“What is His Majesty’s attitude in court?”

　　“I don’t know.” Jason Grant shook his head. “It’s impossible to tell.”

　　He recalled his father’s expression after leaving court—

　　The young new emperor, just over twenty, yet even veteran ministers from two reigns couldn’t see through him.

　　“That’s why I asked you here... Since you’re at the emperor’s side, could you...” Jason Grant spoke with difficulty and unease, “If it’s not possible, then forget it, don’t force yourself. After all... you’ve never owed me any favors.”

　　Edward Harris understood. Jason Grant wanted him to sound out the emperor.

　　Outsiders all thought he was in the emperor’s favor, but only he knew he was just a clay idol crossing a river.

　　He paused and asked, “If you admit to embezzlement, what’s the sentence?”

　　Jason Grant replied, “Confiscation of property, exile.”

　　Confiscation of property, exile.

　　Edward Harris looked at him, a complex admiration in his eyes. “You’re pretty calm about it.”

　　The whole family was about to move south.

　　And yet he was still climbing over his courtyard wall and inviting him to dinner.

　　“To serve as an official, you have to be prepared for this.” Jason Grant took a sip of tea. “If I really get exiled to the frontier, at worst I’ll just go sell...”

　　Edward Harris’s body jolted.

　　Jason Grant, “...roasted sweet potatoes.”

　　Edward Harris let out a breath. “Don’t pause like that when you talk.”

　　“...?”

　　Edward Harris looked away.

　　He rubbed his fingertips against his teacup, lowering his lashes slightly: Preparedness, huh.

　　Since coming to this era, he had muddled along until now, dragging out his sick leave to avoid the issue, only for it to be placed before him again in this way—

　　In this vortex of power, was he going to remain forever uninvolved, or let himself drift with the current?

　　Or would he take the initiative to step in and forge a third path?

　　After a while, leaning against the window frame, he said to Jason Grant, “Get me another order of crystal dumplings.”

　　Jason Grant was momentarily stunned. “What?”

　　“Another order of crystal dumplings.” Edward Harris propped his chin and looked at him. “Now I owe you a favor, since I’ve eaten your food.”

　　A flicker of surprise appeared in Jason Grant’s eyes. “You...”

　　Edward Harris smiled.

　　He had made up his mind.

　　He tucked his hands into his sleeves and glanced sideways, unhurried. “Can’t help it. Some say I’m skilled and don’t follow the usual path.”

　　·

　　Edward Harris rested for a day before preparing to return to the palace and resume his duties.

　　His health had mostly recovered, and besides, the matter of Minister Grant couldn’t be delayed.

　　He put on his court robes for the first time in a while. Estimating when William Thompson would finish court, he timed his arrival at the imperial study accordingly.

　　When he arrived outside the imperial study, William Thompson hadn’t come yet.

　　Only Little Rowan was waiting at the door, greeting him, “Greetings, Lord Harris. His Majesty has just finished morning court. Please wait a moment, my lord.”

　　Edward Harris gathered his sleeves. “It’s no trouble.”

　　It was early spring, and the weather was still bitterly cold. Edward Harris stood at the door in the chilly wind for quite a while before William Thompson finally appeared before him.

　　“Your servant greets Your Majesty.”

　　William Thompson glanced at him.

　　After just a few days, Edward Harris seemed even thinner, his silver belt barely able to hold up his waist. The tip of his nose was red from the cold, making him look rather pitiful.

　　William Thompson instinctively wanted to say something, but paused, then looked away and stepped inside. “Come in.”

　　Edward Harris, like a cat afraid of the cold, almost chased after the emperor’s heels, following the warmth into the room. “Thank you, Your Majesty...”

　　Brian Clark silently followed behind.

　　He sighed inwardly that His Majesty showed no pity at all. If it were him, he probably couldn’t help but let Lord Harris wait inside next time.

　　Inside the imperial study, it was as warm as spring.

　　William Thompson stood to the side, washing his hands in a basin, and asked casually, “All better?”

　　Edward Harris gradually warmed up, squinting in comfort. “Thanks to Your Majesty’s grace, I recovered quickly.”

　　The sound of water stopped.

　　Then William Thompson’s cold, handsome face seemed to flash with a hint of awkwardness. “Mm.”

　　Edward Harris: ...?

　　That tone didn’t seem to carry any sarcasm.

　　He eyed William Thompson suspiciously, but the latter said nothing more, simply lifting his robe and sitting down, turning his attention to the memorials.