Chapter 371 Exhausting All Efforts

When Hua Zhi arrived, the children lit up with excitement, crowding around her with their chatter. She spent some time with them, asking about their studies and day-to-day lives before gently sent them back to their rooms.

Xiaohan, as usual, stayed quiet throughout. But Hua Zhi noticed the faint glimmer of happiness in his expression and offered him a soft smile. “I’ll arrange for someone to pick out a few books from the family library for you,” she said casually. “It’s not a massive collection, but it’s decent enough. Borrow whatever you like, and take your time. Just make sure to log them when you take and return them.”

Zeng Han gave her a small nod.

Hua Zhi paused, her tone shifting into something a touch more serious but still warm. “The kids here are well-mannered, but you’re the new face. It’s natural to feel like an outsider. You’re not going to tell me if something’s wrong, are you?” She raised a brow at him knowingly. “Listen, Xiaohan, don’t let anyone walk all over you. And if you ever feel cornered, don’t hold it in. Handle it with a spectacular way—let them see what you’re made of. You’re sharp enough to figure out how to deal with people, aren’t you?”

Zeng Han shook his head, voice calm. “No one’s excluding me.”

The truth was, they just didn’t pay much attention to him. It wasn’t malicious—he was new, unfamiliar. That’s just how it was.

Hua Zhi studied his face, hesitating briefly before brushing her fingers against his cheek. Her voice softened again. “Alright. If that’s the case, can you promise me something? If anything ever happens, come straight to me.”

“Okay,” he replied simply.

“And don’t stay up too late reading at night.”

Another quiet nod.

Hua Zhi took it upon herself to wash his face and loosen the tie holding back his hair. As the dark strands fell around his face, his delicate features seemed even softer. Most boys his age had an androgynous look, but not Zeng Han—there was no mistaking his identity.

“You’ll have to manage some things yourself here,” she continued, her tone gently instructive. “The children in the Hua family don’t rely on maids. I may not always be around to look after you, but the servant assigned to you will be outside your door early tomorrow. He’ll help you with your hair and anything else you might need.”

"Okay."

Her hand found its way to his head, giving it a light pat. “Alright then. Go to bed early.”

As Hua Zhi walked out, the door clicking shut behind her, Zeng Han remained standing where she’d left him. He didn’t feel uneasy, though. There was a steady comfort in knowing she was close by—that she wouldn’t leave him.

*

When Hua Zhi strolled back to the front yard, Yan Xi had already polished off his meal and was leisurely sipping tea. Without missing a beat, she poured herself a cup, took a deliberate sip, and then issued her instructions.

“Suyun Mama, pick a servant’s child, around six or seven years old, and send them to Xiaohan to serve. Make sure the child is sharp and trustworthy—not the type to overthink things.”

The implication was clear. Suyun Mama immediately caught on to her mistress’s stance regarding the newly-arrived young master. Not daring to cut corners, she gave a swift nod and hurried off to confer with Steward Xu.

Yan Xi raised a brow, his tone laced with casual teasing. “You’re being quite considerate toward him.”

Hua Zhi glanced at him, mildly exasperated. “Don’t tell me I’m not considerate toward you.”

She studied him for a moment, faint amusement flickering in her eyes. Lately, there had been a distinct air of sourness lingering around Yan Xi, as if he’d been indulging in too many pickles.

To her surprise, Yan Xi nodded without hesitation. “You could be even more considerate to me.”

“Mr. Lu,” she quipped, her lips curving into a half-smile. “Your face just hit the floor.”

The servant stationed nearby couldn’t hold back a laugh, quickly bowing and retreating from the room, her shoulders trembling with barely-suppressed mirth.

Yan Xi, for his part, seemed completely unbothered, his expression one of easy amusement. Around Hua Zhi, there was always this air of relaxed banter, a playfulness that rarely surfaced elsewhere. Even the old title “Mr. Lu” had made its way back into their exchanges, though he knew better than to push his luck.

Clearing his throat, Yan Xi smoothly shifted gears. “At court today, Minister Zhu proposed distributing relief grain. He also suggested purchasing new grain from the Yan Kingdom to replenish our granaries. The Emperor approved it.”

Hua Zhi, unsurprised, gave nothing away. That little hint of a smile told Yan Xi all he needed to know—this had her fingerprints all over it.

He chuckled softly. “Oh, and after the court session, Minister Zhu arranged to meet the Emperor again. He’ll be tackling the issue of the iron mine incident in Daqing, the one involving the Yan Kingdom. The Emperor’s on board with that too.”

Hua Zhi’s gaze sharpened slightly. “The imperial treasury’s running dry. His Majesty is willing to greenlight almost anything if it saves money. Speaking of which…” She paused, her tone shifting to something more serious. “Yan Xi, did you know there’s only nine million taels left in the national treasury?”

Yan Xi’s smile faded as her words sank in. “I did. I was there when Minister Zhu brought it up to His Majesty earlier today.”

The weight of the conversation hung between them, the light-heartedness from earlier giving way to a sobering reality.

The Seven Stars Bureau was a force to be reckoned with, but its staffing was always kept deliberately lean. This wasn't oversight—it was intentional, a form of restraint imposed by the emperors of old. As a result, the Bureau couldn’t possibly have eyes on everything, let alone keep tabs on something as critical as the imperial treasury.

“Even if we use surplus grain to offset some of the silver,” Yan Xi began, his tone calm but edged with concern, “based on past years’ calculations, disaster relief alone should require six to eight hundred thousand taels of silver. That’s nearly a tenth of the entire treasury. With this year’s disasters hitting as hard as they have, tax exemptions are non-negotiable if we want to help the people get back on their feet. But if we can’t secure a significant stock of grain from the Yan Kingdom, and the enemy gets wind of our vulnerability… Well, now you see why, despite knowing this, I still advised my grandfather to use surplus grain to cover disaster relief expenses.”

To Yan Xi, it had seemed like a practical solution—a way to save on relief costs while steering clear of the moral compromise of profiteering from surplus grain sales. A win-win, or so he thought.

But was there more to it?

Hua Zhi lowered her gaze, letting a soft chuckle escape. “Yan Xi,” she said, her voice tinged with mischief, “do you realize that sometimes what’s stored in those granaries isn’t grain at all? Sometimes it’s mostly stones. Now, if we dip into the surplus grain for disaster relief, do you think those people will have time to patch up the gaps before it’s too late?”

She raised her eyes, locking onto his with a knowing smirk. “The treasury’s empty, isn’t it? A few greedy rats could easily turn that to their advantage, fattening their pockets while the empire teeters.”

Yan Xi’s expression darkened as understanding dawned. In one fluid motion, he rose and stepped closer, wrapping Ah Zhi gently in his arms. “It’s my failure,” he murmured, his voice low and remorseful. “I’ve made you bear too much.”

Ah Zhi bit her lip, leaning into his embrace as her fingers gripped the fabric of his robe. Her voice was barely above a whisper, laced with quiet unease. “Yan Xi, I’m feeling… restless.”

Ah Zhi was terrified. No matter how many strategies she devised, she couldn’t shake the fear that the outcome was already written in stone. The thought of staring into an endless abyss with no escape made her heart clench. She feared becoming a casualty of chaotic times. She worried endlessly about her family—whether they might die or suffer unspeakable mistreatment. She worried about Bai Lin, that he might face defeat before ever achieving his ambitions. And most of all, she feared for Yan Xi, the possibility of him falling on the battlefield. If it came to that, she thought bitterly, she would rather die before any of them.

“It won’t come to that. Trust me.” Yan Xi’s voice was low, his heart aching for her. He knew Ah Zhi—knew her pride, her unyielding nature. For her to show even a sliver of this vulnerability meant the weight on her shoulders had become unbearable.

Gently, he kissed the crown of her head and whispered words of comfort. “I’m already working to resolve the internal disputes. Once that’s done, what threat could the Chaoli tribe possibly pose? Our ancestors defeated them at their strongest; we can do the same.”

Ah Zhi’s reply was sharp, though tinged with bitter humor. “Our ancestor had my predecessor at his side in those days. Who does the Emperor have now? You?”

Yan Xi’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “I’d say I have you.”

She let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “Don’t flatter me. I can’t even begin to compare myself to my predecessor. I’m nowhere near that level.”

Yan Xi tilted her chin upward, meeting her gaze with quiet intensity. “Do you know,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “that while I’m in the capital, I’m the one issuing most of the imperial decrees?”

Ah Zhi blinked, startled into silence.

The Emperor…

“He’s struggling,” Yan Xi continued. “The doctors say it’s the lingering effects of erysipelas. It’s incurable. He holds it together when I’m not there, but when I am, he only makes an appearance during court meetings. The rest of the time, I handle everything—especially when it comes to Chaoli affairs.” His voice softened. “Ah Zhi, I hate seeing you suffer. But without you, I can’t do this.”

Ah Zhi opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.

Yan Xi’s implication hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. The Emperor…was he planning to bypass his own son and hand the throne to his nephew instead?