CHAPTER THIRTY — THAT'S NOTHING AT ALL
The Empress had lived within the palace walls for many years. She had been shaped by court politics, sharpened by intrigue, and refined by responsibility. She was a woman who could observe the six directions and listen to all eight winds—keen‑eyed, perceptive, and far from simple.
Yet her tone toward the Emperor at this moment was unmistakably sharp—far sharper than decorum allowed.
Such agitation could only come from genuine concern. If she did not truly care, she would never have confronted the Emperor so openly, and certainly not before so many witnesses.
The Empress and the Prime Minister's wife were sisters, bound by both blood and affection. Perhaps because she had no daughter of her own, she had always treated Tang Ke Xin as though she were one.
"This matter was decreed by the Empress herself," the Emperor said, displeasure flickering across his features. "How can it be cancelled so lightly?"
It was clear that husband and wife stood on opposite sides of this issue.
"Chenqie understands that His Majesty fears for the reputation of the royal family," the Empress replied steadily. "Rest assured, I will handle this matter with care. It will not cause trouble for the court."
She knew well that this was not a matter to be rushed. She needed a flawless plan. But she also needed the Emperor to understand her stance—this was not something she could ignore.
"Oh?" the Emperor asked, his expression darkening. "And what does the Empress intend to do?"
He had not expected her to be so unyielding.
"Now that Xin'er has recovered," the Empress said, "I have reflected and realised that matters of the heart cannot be forced. Mu Shaoyi does not wish to marry her. Therefore, it is best to dissolve the engagement. Let them part peacefully. He may marry whomever he chooses, and Xin'er may find someone more suitable."
She did not reveal her full plan, but her meaning was clear—Tang Ke Xin deserved a better match.
Tang Ke Xin blinked, startled.
Moments ago, the Empress had simply spoken of cancelling the engagement. Now she was speaking of finding her another husband?
And the Emperor… was already angry.
Had she truly caused the Empress to quarrel with the Emperor?
"Cancel the marriage?" the Emperor said with a cold smile. "In her current situation, do you think that is wise?"
His tone was mild, but the meaning was unmistakable.
The Empress stiffened. She understood perfectly—and she did not like it.
"Xin'er is gentle and virtuous," she said firmly, "lively and lovely, beautiful and gracious, slender and elegant. If we withdraw her from Mu Shaoyi, we shall certainly find someone far better."
Tang Ke Xin nearly choked.
Gentle? Virtuous? Lovely? Elegant?
Was this not the same girl who had been a fool for years?
The Empress praised her as though she were a celestial maiden descended to earth.
If this was not true affection, nothing else could explain such extravagant praise.
The Emperor coughed lightly. He clearly did not agree, but he could not contradict the Empress too openly in front of Tang Ke Xin.
Then, as though struck by a sudden thought, he turned to her.
"Girl, what do you think?"
Tang Ke Xin froze.
She had not expected the Emperor to ask her directly. But now that he had, she could not refuse to answer. If she remained silent, the argument would only worsen.
She needed to respond in a way that soothed tempers, avoided suspicion, and revealed nothing of her true thoughts.
She lifted her head, blinked innocently, and said with perfect composure:
"Just now, the Empress said that I am gentle and virtuous, lively and adorable, beautiful and generous, slender and graceful. Everyone loves me, and flowers bloom at my passing. So… this one feels nothing at all."
She repeated the Empress's praise word for word—then added two more lines of her own, delivered with such earnest sincerity that the entire hall fell into stunned silence.
The world seemed to stop.
Even the Emperor forgot to breathe.