Volume Three, Chapter Thirty-Nine

"Lord Zhu, you are responsible for writing His Majesty's Imperial Diaries, while I am responsible for drafting the Consort Chronicles. I wished to ask your advice: how should I mention Imperial Noble Consort Shun's origins in a way that will pass muster with the Holy Emperor?"

Being a historian was hard; being a historian recording the events of the current reign was harder still. If the monarch coveted a fine reputation yet loved doing things that could never bear the light of day, it became harder and harder still. He took a small sip of wine, looked at the pretty girl on his lap, and teasingly tipped up her chin with a smile. "Imperial Noble Consort Shun belongs neither against a wall nor in a bed. She belongs on a stage. Write more about her saving her father and less about her life on the streets. That will do."

Understanding dawned on the official. "Thank you for your instruction. Allow me to toast you, my lord. Please."

He tipped back his head, returning the toast with a whole cup like a true man. The little wine cup had just reached his lips when the girl's pert bottom, which had weighed on his lap all evening until his legs went numb, suddenly vanished. Next, the slender waist in his hand disappeared too. Last to fly away was the little wine cup he held. He struggled to focus his hazy eyes, blinked, and looked straight ahead. The pretty girl had been hauled up by the elbow and tossed aside, while the Young Master glared at him, his displeased black eyes seething with the air of a man who had caught his lover cheating red-handed.

"You promised to wait for me outside the palace gates, and instead you came here to drink with