Side Story: The Nether Spirit
The night was deep and silent.
Suddenly, a chill breeze enveloped the brocaded couch, its faint presence rousing him from his light slumber. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t open his eyes. Frustration simmered within him, but he remained powerless.
"My King," a soft voice called. "Your consort has come."
His heart skipped a beat. That voice…
A pair of cool hands gently covered his forehead. "My King, wake up."
It was her.
He struggled even harder to open his eyes, torn between joy and anger—joy for the owner of that voice, anger at his own body’s betrayal.
A soft sigh escaped her lips. "Never mind. I shouldn’t have come in the first place. But… I truly wished to speak with you—My King, you need not blame yourself. All of this… is your consort’s fault. My King, I understand how dearly you love Xiyang…"
Hearing this, he ceased his futile struggle.
Her fingers brushed through his graying temples. "My King, you’ve aged so much. Half these white hairs must be for Xiyang’s sake. Sometimes, I wonder—if I had stayed in the palace to give birth back then, would things be different now? Do you remember when I left? I made you promise to ensure Xiyang’s happiness, because I feared that without me, she would be bullied and left uncared for. It wasn’t until later that I realized happiness isn’t something others can give—it must be nurtured by one’s own heart. A person’s gains and losses are fated by the heavens, and forcing what isn’t meant to be will only leave one empty-handed. It’s just a pity… I understood this too late, and couldn’t teach it to Xiyang."
With another sigh, she continued, "My King, dawn is near. I must go now—please, no more sorrow. If Xiyang lacks the fortune to bring you joy in this life, let Suige take her place in filial duty. My King, I must leave. This life was too short… if there is another, I would still wish to walk hand in hand with you…"
As the chill in the air dissipated, he gasped out two words like a drowning man.
"Imperial Consort Chen…"
Setting down the final stroke on the plain paper, a faint smile lingered on his lips. That fool Yixiao—last time, the Glass Hairpin he had brought for her was clumsily broken in half by her own hands. The remaining piece was either carelessly lost or taken by the Qin family’s daughter. And now, shamelessly, she was asking for another in their monthly correspondence.
At this thought, his gaze involuntarily drifted to the exquisite brocade box on the desk—inside lay the two broken halves of the Glass Hairpin, the very one she had once sent Xueying to ask him for.
Exhausted, he leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples with slow, deliberate fingers. The summer floods were approaching, and the eastern river regions would likely face disaster once more. Meanwhile, military reports from the northern borders spoke of restless movements among the nomadic tribes…
"Husband."
His fingers stilled. Instinctively, he looked toward the door.
It wasn’t an illusion.
Meeting his gaze, she smiled faintly. "Husband, it’s so late. Are you still working?"
After the initial surprise passed, he resumed his usual indifference, nodding slightly in response. Sensing his coldness, her expression dimmed. "Husband, do you… truly despise me so much?"
"It’s not that I despise you," he answered simply. "What’s past is past."
Her head lowered. "I only wanted to see how you were doing. I’ll leave soon… Husband, it’s only now that I realize how terribly wrong I was before. Because of me, you suffered so much. I don’t dare hope for your forgiveness, but… I truly came to say I’m sorry…"He listened quietly, his expression gradually softening. "Though I don't know why you're here, if you've come to apologize, I accept it. You don't need to hold onto this guilt any longer."
"I came to tell you that I don't want the life you promised me last time," she raised her head, forcing a smile with glistening eyes. "Too many misfortunes stemmed from my selfishness. I think... not just in this lifetime, but for all eternity, I have no right to ask anything of you. But I don't want your pity or your guilt. You were right—without equality, there can never be true understanding. It's just... I couldn't hear any of it back then..."
"I feel neither guilt nor pity for you," he suddenly spoke. "I simply dislike owing too much."
"Hah," she chuckled lightly. "You're still so brutally honest, leaving no room for sentiment. Very well, if that's the case, then we owe each other nothing now. My husband—no, I should address you as Your Majesty now. May Your Majesty take care of yourself. Xiyang takes her leave."
As she turned to walk through the doorway, she suddenly looked back with a radiant smile. "You should know... I've only truly loved once in this lifetime. Though it was misplaced love, I have no regrets..."
A sudden cold gust of wind made him shiver, jolting him awake. He realized he'd somehow fallen asleep leaning back in his chair. The half-closed door had been blown open by the night wind, gaping emptily. The candle was nearly spent, its wax overflowing the holder's edge and dripping onto the dried ink of a plain letter.
A dream? He smiled faintly, carefully peeling the wax droplets from the letter before storing it away. After extinguishing the candle, he strode briskly toward the door.
Dawn court would begin soon—daybreak would bring many matters requiring his attention.
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