A Hot Potato!

The strains of silk and bamboo within Qilin Virtue Hall did not gradually cease until the third quarter of the Hour of the Pig.

The dancers of the Music Office filed out one after another, their skirts brushing over the crimson brocade carpet and trailing soft, fragmented rustles behind them.

When the last musician bowed out of the hall with a pipa in her arms, the night wind poured in through the crack in the doors, blowing the flames of a hundred glazed lamps sharply sideways. The shadows in the hall swayed twice before settling once more.

The civil and military officials of the entire court had long since departed.

The leftover dishes on the dining tables had also been swiftly cleared away by the young eunuchs, the wine cups collected onto lacquered trays.

Even the wine stains on the tablecloths had been wiped two or three times with damp cloths.

In but a moment, Qilin Virtue Hall, which had just been filled with clinking cups and revelry, was left with only rows upon rows of empty rosewood tables, and the lingering scent of wine and rouge coiling beneath the hall's caisson ceiling...

Yan Qinyu remained seated upon the dragon throne.

His right hand rested on the armrest, his fingertips tapping lightly against the gold-lacquered dragon head, once after another.

Yet within the hall, now grown empty and spacious, those "tap, tap, tap" sounds rang out with exceptional clarity.

The two young eunuchs standing guard by the entrance kept their eyes lowered, scarcely daring to breathe.

Yan Qinyu's gaze remained fixed on the silver-frost beast-pelt couch to the left of the imperial throne.

The couch was empty at the moment.

Diwu Chijin had just said he needed to cleanse his hands, and two young eunuchs had led him toward the