Change happened overnight. Yan Zheyun wasn't sure how Liu Yao had done it but word of what had transpired at the entrance of Tianlu Pavilion, including Noble Consort Li's and his arrests, hadn't reached the rest of the inner palace. Perhaps Liu Yao's network was more powerful than he'd let on.
That evening, after the dowager had stormed out in a rage, the flimsy veil that had concealed her bad blood with her son was finally ripped away for everyone present to see—or in Yan Zheyun's case, to hear, Liu Yao had dismissed his subordinates before stepping behind the screen to pull Yan Zheyun into a hug.
"This sovereign has shown you something ridiculous (1)," he'd quipped, with mirth in his tone, but all Yan Zheyun could feel was heartache for him. This wasn't a joke that Liu Yao, or anyone, for that matter, should have to make. No one should have to laugh at themselves in deprecation because their mother hated them so much they felt embarrassed to show it in front of others.
