Chapter Fifty-Three
In the long night, Feng Xiyang had a long dream.
They were joys buried deep in the past, now veiled in sorrow and hesitation, as distant as flowers seen through mist. Looking back, it felt as though eons had passed.
Such karma—it must be the result of grave sins in a past life, for her to suffer so in this one. She had never imagined that after half a lifetime of glory, she would end up like this.
She should have been unwilling. The tenderness he had once revealed was like a knife, slicing her heart over and over, leaving behind bleeding wounds—if she had truly believed she could win in this doomed love, how could there have been so much resentment? But if she couldn’t move on...
If she couldn’t move on, life would be but a dream. Love would be wasted, obsession would be wasted, living would be helpless, dying would be helpless. The vast mortal world was nothing more than love, hatred, life, and death. The word "love," written stroke by stroke, was nothing but pain. And all of it was merely an inescapable obsession in this mortal world—yet she had already reached the end of the road.
In her dream, Xia Jingshi’s handsome face remained as before, yet so refined that she could find no trace of him. She only remembered the frozen melancholy in his eyes when she first glimpsed him years ago, and the faint, lingering tenderness in his brow—but now, all she could clearly see were those eyes that startled her awake, cold beyond measure.
A sudden wind rose, lifting petals as thin as cicada wings into a swirling dance, filling the sky with a gauzy red veil.
In his memory, there must have been such a shade of deep red. They brushed slowly past his dark hair in the wind, petal by petal, scattering like mist, carrying a faint fragrance that vanished before he could savor it. But she knew—those were datura flowers, deep red like blazing fire, blooming silently for him.
Those crimson petals, fragmented even in dreams, lay scattered across the ground. She bent to gather a handful of broken red, only for them to crumble into a grave in the blink of an eye, leaving behind nothing but desolate sorrow, twisting into blood tinged with obsession, resentment, and hatred, wrapping around her as she drifted toward the underworld, each step splashing blood like scattered blossoms.
It was a long, long night, and a long, long dream, filled with layers upon layers of tragic red, with no shore in sight.
Feng Xiyang awoke from the dream, still exhausted. The night air was thick with a faint, pervasive fragrance. Dazed, she murmured, "Datura..." The moment the word left her lips, she jolted fully awake. Upon closer inspection, amidst the curling smoke, there was a milky sweetness—it was just the lotus incense burning in the silver-carved censer. Only then did she relax.
Her gaze drifted to the writing desk and stopped. Scattered across it were sheets of rosy gold-dusted dragon-and-phoenix-patterned paper, soft as gossamer...
This time, Attendant Huang had brought a secret letter from Father. In it, Father inquired about her well-being and specifically urged her to take good care of herself, striving to bear Xia Jingshi a child as soon as possible to secure her position in Brocade. Xiyang smiled bitterly—given Xia Jingshi’s cold distance, even getting close to him was difficult, let alone bearing his child. How should she reply to this letter?
Suddenly, she thought of the letter her imperial brother had written to Xia Jingshi. What would he have said? Perhaps he had urged Xia Jingshi to take good care of her—or perhaps... it was about Yixiao.
And then she remembered the Five-Character Dragon-Patterned Powdered Wax Paper on Xia Jingshi’s desk.
Though it was midsummer, she shivered.The phoenix-tail skirt in hues of peach and bright purple, with peach blossom powder carefully applied to conceal the exhaustion from a sleepless night, Feng Xiyang walked towards Xia Jingshi's study, carrying a few half-bloomed lotus flowers in her arms.
Feng Xiyang's arrival was abrupt, and her steps were swift. By the time the guards outside the study had barely announced her, she had already pushed the door open with a smile. Xia Jingshi appeared as composed as ever, seemingly having casually picked up a book to cover the documents on his desk.
"Husband, are you busy?" she asked cheerfully, setting the lotus flowers down and retrieving a large porcelain vase from a nearby curio shelf that seemed more fitting. She began arranging the flowers one by one. "This morning, Xiyang took a stroll by the Lotus Pond and saw the new blooms flourishing. I couldn’t resist picking a few and thought to bring some for you."
Xia Jingshi watched her movements quietly, as if waiting for her to reveal her true purpose. Only when she struggled slightly to lift the vase did he rise and step forward to take it from her hands, placing it on a nearby rosewood stand. Feng Xiyang stepped back, examining it from a distance before nodding in satisfaction. "This makes the whole room feel much livelier."
Seeing Xia Jingshi return to his seat without a word, Feng Xiyang sighed helplessly and asked, "Husband, could you do Xiyang a favor?" Xia Jingshi hesitated briefly before replying, "Go on."
Feng Xiyang retrieved Feng Qishan's secret letter from her sleeve and presented it to Xia Jingshi. "Father had Steward Huang deliver a letter to Xiyang..." Xia Jingshi glanced at the envelope but made no move to take it. Xiyang had no choice but to say, "Wouldn’t you like to read it first?"
"If the Princess Consort has a request, you may speak plainly," Xia Jingshi said indifferently. "Very well," Feng Xiyang replied with a radiant smile. "Xiyang would like you to write the reply. That way, Father will feel more at ease..."
Xia Jingshi frowned slightly. "A letter from the Lord of the Nation addressed to you is not something I should read." "How could that be? You are my husband. Between family, there should be no such formalities," Feng Xiyang countered. As she spoke, her eyes caught a glimpse of something azure on his desk—without thinking, she picked it up. It was an exquisitely crafted Glass Hairpin. But why was it here?
Xia Jingshi showed no reaction. Seeing her curiosity, he smiled faintly and explained, "This is a top-grade glass piece from the imperial kilns in the Imperial City, pure in color and sturdy in quality. If you visit the Imperial City when the kilns are open, you could purchase more in different designs." Feng Xiyang's heart stirred, and she smiled. "Actually, this one is quite lovely..." "This one is not available," Xia Jingshi refused without hesitation. "It was left here by someone else, and I must return it in a few days."
"Then never mind," Feng Xiyang replied, her smile unwavering as she handed the hairpin back to him. "By the way, husband, didn’t my elder brother send you a letter? Did he mention my jade pillow? I left in such a hurry that I forgot to bring it..."
A trace of imperceptible mockery flashed in Xia Jingshi's eyes, but he said nothing further. Tucking the hairpin into his robe, he retrieved an already opened envelope from among the books on his desk and handed it to Feng Xiyang. "He likely didn’t mention it. But I read it hastily and may have missed something. Perhaps the Princess Consort would like to review it again."Under his cold gaze, Feng Xiyang nearly showed signs of embarrassment. She quickly waved her hand, "If my husband says he hasn't seen it, then it's gone. That thing isn't absolutely necessary, but Father's letter—" As she spoke, she waved the letter in her hand.
"If the Princess Consort has something to say, she might as well speak directly," Xia Jingshi tapped his fingers on the desk, producing a faint knocking sound, his tone beginning to show impatience. "This prince has many matters to attend to."
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