Chapter Seventy-Four
In Xiyang's eyes, the Empress Dowager was a kind and benevolent woman, whose every gesture exuded incomparable nobility. Yet it was this very noble woman who would set aside her imperial dignity to amuse Xiyang with lighthearted banter, bringing much-needed joy to her otherwise melancholy days.
Over the course of several days, the two grew increasingly close. Xiyang almost regarded her as her own mother, and the Empress Dowager, in turn, doted on her more and more.
Often, the Empress Dowager would stroke Xiyang’s long hair affectionately and sigh, "Ah, had I known that bearing a son would mean his heart would be consumed by state affairs, I might as well have had a sweet and obedient daughter like Xiyang to bring me joy in my old age..." At such moments, Xiyang would smile coyly and reply, "The Holy Emperor’s dedication to state affairs is a blessing for Brocade. Besides, am I not just like your own daughter?"
One day, the Empress Dowager took Xiyang by the hand, inviting her to admire the newly cultivated tribute flowers from the vassal states in the imperial garden. Xiyang happily agreed.
As they strolled, faint sounds of exertion and combat reached their ears. Puzzled, Xiyang glanced in the direction of the noise. The Empress Dowager, noticing her curiosity, smiled and said, "That must be the Emperor. He loves practicing martial arts in the garden. Xiyang, accompany me to take a look." Xiyang nodded instinctively.
Unlike his usual regal attire, the Holy Emperor wore only a plain white training robe, its collar slightly open, revealing his powerful chest. His movements were sharp and forceful, and before long, the palace guards sparring with him were forced into a disheveled retreat.
"Pathetic," the Holy Emperor suddenly halted his stance and coldly rebuked. "Return and train harder. If you perform like this again, I will strip you of your ranks." As the guards murmured their assent, he turned to accept a fresh towel from a servant—only then noticing the two women standing nearby.
"Mother, what brings you here? And the King Who Pacifies the South’s consort is here as well," the Holy Emperor remarked as he approached. His resemblance to Xia Jingshi, combined with his masculine vigor and sovereign aura, inexplicably made Xiyang blush. "It’s been days since I last saw you, Mother. You look much more spirited."
"The Emperor hasn’t visited Ciyang Palace for days, and now all he offers are pleasantries," the Empress Dowager chided gently, pulling Xiyang closer. "Thankfully, Xiyang keeps me company daily, or I’d be utterly bored." The Holy Emperor chuckled softly. "In that case, I owe Xiyang my gratitude."
He had called her by her given name—Xiyang.
Stunned, Xiyang lifted her eyes to meet his. His lips curved into a faint, tender smile—one that reminded her of Xia Jingshi’s, though he had never bestowed such an expression upon her.
Her heart gave a strange lurch, but the next moment, realization struck like ice, chilling her limbs and beading her forehead with sweat. Instinctively, she tried to step back, but the Empress Dowager’s grip held her firmly. Dazedly, she heard the Empress Dowager’s gentle voice, "If the Emperor has no urgent matters, why not accompany Xiyang for a stroll? I am too old for long walks." Without waiting for refusal, she pushed Xiyang forward and departed.
The attendants tactfully withdrew, leaving only Feng Xiyang and the Holy Emperor in the garden. After a long silence, once everyone had gone, the Holy Emperor suddenly teased, "You seem to blush easily in my presence. I’ve heard Xia Jingshi neglects you. Why not leave him and follow me instead?"Xiyang clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her flesh until blood welled up. She took deep, measured breaths, silently chanting to herself, Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
Her back stiff, she maintained the elegant curve of her neck and shoulders with effort, lifting her head bravely as she spoke softly, “Xiyang does not understand. The Emperor is so noble and majestic, yet why does he harbor such an ugly, shadowed heart?” The moment the words left her lips, regret flooded her. She had sought momentary satisfaction in her retort but failed to consider whether it might bring trouble upon Xia Jingshi.
Not daring to look at the Holy Emperor’s expression, Xiyang suppressed the panic rising in her chest and dipped into a slight bow. “If His Majesty has no further matters, Xiyang will take her leave.” With that, she turned and fled the garden as if chased by the wind.
The carriage rolled slowly out of the palace gates. Feng Xiyang leaned back, eyes closed in exhaustion, her mind racing over how she should explain today’s events to Xia Jingshi.
The rapid clatter of hooves interrupted her thoughts, and the carriage jolted to an abrupt halt. “What’s happening?” She lifted the curtain, her startled words dying on her lips as she recognized the figure outside.
Why has he come? Had he not humiliated her enough? Or had he changed his mind—was he here to punish her for her insolence?
Xiyang stepped slowly out of the carriage, tilting her head up at him with trepidation.
Then, amid the gasps of onlookers, the Holy Emperor leaned down, seized her, and hauled her onto his saddle. One arm locked around her waist, he cracked his whip with a sharp snap and spurred the horse into a gallop, carrying her away.
The horse raced at breakneck speed, the wind howling past Xiyang’s cheeks. The long tassels of her earrings lashed violently against her neck. She had no choice but to cling to his solid waist, burying her face against his chest as the violent jostling threatened to shake her apart. Her heartbeat thundered wildly, faster than she had ever known.
She had no idea how long or how far they rode before the horse finally slowed to a stop. Pushing away the Holy Emperor’s steadying hand, Xiyang struggled free and leapt down, retreating several paces in alarm.
“What, frightened now?” The Holy Emperor dismounted with a smile. “Where has your courage gone—the same that dared to rebuke me to my face?” Xiyang lowered her head, smoothing her disheveled robes as she steadied herself. Then she lifted her chin. “If His Majesty would apologize for the insults he earlier directed at Xiyang, then Xiyang would likewise offer her own apology for her rash words.”
“You consider them insults?” The Holy Emperor took a step toward her, still smiling. “I do not.” Instinctively, Xiyang retreated. “Xiyang is now the consort of the King Who Pacifies the South, no longer the princess of Su Sha.”
“I would rather you were still the princess of Su Sha,” the Holy Emperor paused, then flashed her a dazzling grin. “Xiyang, he treated you so cruelly for the sake of a fickle woman. Yet you remain so devoted to him—is it worth it?”
She had expected to struggle for some time to escape the hidden guards, but the maidservant led Yixiao through the Prince’s mansion with ease, weaving left and right until they reached the back gate.
“Captain Fu, this way,” the servant whispered, sliding the bolt free. “A carriage awaits outside.” Yixiao hurried after her and climbed into the waiting carriage, pressing urgently, “Has His Highness truly come himself? Wasn’t he supposed to escort Princess Xiyang to the Imperial City to meet the Holy Emperor?”The maidservant gave a charming smile. "Captain Fu, surely you understand His Highness's intentions? He has been back in Su Sha for some time now, but the inspections inside and outside the Prince's mansion have been too strict, hence the prolonged delay."
Hearing this, Yixiao felt uncertain whether to be happy or sad. After a long silence, she sighed faintly. "Very well, I must speak with him face to face and make things clear."
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