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He would not have to clash head-on with Prime Minister Father, and he had won the loyalty of a high-ranking court official... Heh. Heh, heh—

Li Chenjing, who had never belonged to either the Imperial Faction or the Ministerial Faction, really had returned... The plan was his style through and through: balancing ruler and ministers, having each side give a little, moving a thousand pounds with four ounces of force. It swept away the drawn swords and bent bows throughout the court and the Inner Palace, bringing everyone's interests into the best possible balance.

Zhao Huangpu's tightly knit brows relaxed. He hooked an arm around Li Chenjing's shoulders like a brother. "I still had a trace of doubt, but it seems my Little Jing really is back. You have no idea how lonely I was while you were gone."

A familiar scent reached Li Chenjing from His Majesty. "Didn't someone else take my place advising you?"

"Hmm? You mean—Little Eight?" Zhao Huangpu deliberately drew out the last syllable and felt Li Chenjing's whole body jolt. "How could her little tricks compare with Young Master Chenjing's? She only ever takes my side and thinks of me alone. Little Jing always keeps the larger picture in mind. He knows exactly how far to go—neither too little nor too much." His words carried another meaning: he and Little Eight had grown close without Li Chenjing knowing.

"But do you know how upset she was when she learned you'd returned? She lay against me and cried for a long, long time, like a stray cat someone had abandoned. It's still a little damp here." Zhao Huangpu pointed to the tear marks left on his chest, displaying them to Little Jing like a medal. He was deliberately showing him where that familiar scent had come