In the third month of spring during the eleventh year of Jingxuan, the old palace in the western capital of Suiyang was already adorned with fragrant flowers along its paths. Between the halls and watchtowers, lotus ponds shimmered with clear water, their broad green leaves glistening like scattered gold under the sunlight.
Ruo Yun was frolicking endlessly by the pond with his younger brother Ruo Ren. Not far from them stood a man in ornate robes. Though his temples were streaked with white, his back remained straight, and the sharp, handsome contours of his youth were still visible in his wrinkled profile.
With hands clasped behind his back, he watched the two boys, his thin lips curving slightly upward like a blade’s edge. Even in silence, his imposing presence commanded respect.
"Grandfather!" Ruo Ren turned and rushed over, his small, damp hands clutching the hem of the man’s brocade robe. "Elder brother is bullying me!"
Ruo Yun, standing behind him, tightened his little face and retorted angrily, "I did no such thing!"
He Xi bent down, scooped up Ruo Ren in one arm, and pulled Ruo Yun closer. A trace of warmth gradually surfaced in his deep, abyss-like eyes. "After all these days in the western capital, have you missed your father?"
"No!" Ruo Ren widened his eyes, speaking with the blunt honesty of a child. "When Father isn’t around, no one forces us to practice swordsmanship!"
Ruo Yun couldn’t resist swatting his chubby cheek, annoyed. "If those words reach Mother’s ears, I’ll be punished along with you again!"
He Xi’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though his voice turned colder. "A son of the Imperial Family, afraid of sword practice?" With that, he set Ruo Ren down and addressed both children, "To the training ground at the rear!"
Ruo Ren immediately wilted, his small body squirming as he pouted and refused to move.
Without another word, Ruo Yun turned and jogged toward the northern training ground.
He Xi glanced down at Ruo Ren, who was not yet four years old, and finally let out a helpless chuckle. Lifting the boy by his collar, he remarked, "When your father was your age, he already dared to carry a bow and mount a horse."
Seizing the opportunity, Ruo Ren clung to his chest, refusing to budge, and grinned cheekily. "Grandfather, Grandfather, Grandfather…"
When Meng Tinghui emerged from the hall, she immediately spotted her son’s shameless antics in the distance. Both amused and exasperated, she pressed her lips together and stood for a moment at the base of the vermilion steps before turning her gaze toward the bridge by the pond.
A small arched bridge curved gracefully over the water. There, Ruo Tao, dressed in a delicate gauze dress, stood quietly beside Ying Huan, feeding the colorful carp in the pond.
Ying Huan, clad in crimson robes, stood at the bridge’s edge, her hair swept into a lofty chignon that seemed to touch the clouds. Though her youthful beauty had faded, her eyes and brows still carried an ethereal grace, and every gesture exuded elegance and nobility.
From time to time, Ruo Tao tilted her little face upward with a smile, offering the small bowl of fish bait in her hands. Her serene composure bore a striking resemblance to the woman beside her.
In the pond, the carp occasionally flicked their tails and leaped, scattering tiny droplets of water like shattered blossoms.
Meng Tinghui watched for a while, suddenly feeling reluctant to disrupt the children’s time with their elders. She turned, found a stone bench, and sat down, quietly savoring the warmth of the spring sun.
This year, the kingdom had been entirely peaceful. Since the grand court assembly at the beginning of the year, she had settled numerous affairs related to the northern fiefs before honoring a prior arrangement to bring her three children to the western capital to pay respects to the retired emperor and Prince Ping. Five days had already passed since their arrival.
Before coming, she had harbored some apprehension, fearing she might struggle to face them with true ease and worrying they might feel uncomfortable in her presence. Yet, upon arriving, she discovered all those concerns had been unnecessary.This elderly couple had weathered countless storms and witnessed endless love and hatred in their youth. The national enmities and familial grudges that once consumed them had long faded like distant clouds in their eyes—how could they possibly harbor any resentment toward her?
Now, in their eyes, she was simply the woman their beloved son cherished.
And as she observed the way these two elders interacted these past few days, how could she not feel deeply envious?
A decade of mutual resentment, one glance rekindling their bond, then a lifetime intertwined... People often say the Imperial Family is the most heartless, yet beneath that apparent coldness lies the most steadfast love.
Faint to the extreme, yet profound in its depth.
She could only hope that when she grew old, she too could gaze upon him with white hair, hold his hand with a smile, and share a final resting place.
"Your Majesty."
A woman's voice from behind snapped her out of her reverie. She turned to look. "What is it?"
A palace maid smilingly presented a yellowed-edged letter, saying, "The Retired Emperor instructed this servant to bring this for Your Majesty to read."
Suspicious, she took it, dismissed the maid, and quickly opened it.
Her eyes slowly scanned the words—so familiar, yet so piercing that they made the corners of her eyes sting.
After a long while, she finally closed the letter, clasped it in her palm, and gave a faint smile.
So many years had passed, and she never realized how deeply he had loved her.
The letter was dated the twelfth month of winter in the first year of Jingxuan.
What was she doing back then?
She had just entered the Privy Council, devoting herself day and night to learning military affairs, overwhelmed with work.
Yet he was already planning their future together.
Including that vast northern territory.
Back then, when he issued an edict ceding several northern routes as her personal fief, she thought it was a decision forced by circumstances. Who would have guessed that as early as the first year of Jingxuan, he had already resolved to use this land to compensate for her loss of kingdom and family, to silence the critics... and then to enthrone her as his Empress.
But before he could speak, trouble erupted in the north.
Yet what truly moved her was not just his long-hidden feelings, but the fact that the two elders had actually consented to his idea.
Setting aside national enmity and familial grudges, this empire was soaked with their blood and sweat. How could they so calmly redraw borders and grant territory to the heir of a former enemy state unless they deeply understood his love for her? Such magnanimity and tolerance...
Lost in thought, she lifted her gaze to the willow-shaded bridge nearby and happened to see Ying Huan's red lips curved in a smile, watching her every move.
Suddenly, her eyes grew moist.
Though orphaned since childhood, in this life, to have earned his love and the genuine care of his parents—was that not enough?
Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached from afar. A eunuch rushed over but halted immediately upon seeing her seated nearby, sweating profusely as he reported, "Your Majesty, the Military Command at the city wall just reported... they sighted the Yellow Standard in the distance. It appears to be His Majesty arriving."
Meng Tinghui was utterly astonished and immediately stood up.
The reason she had come to the Western Capital alone with their three children was precisely because he was too busy in the capital to leave, and an imperial procession westward would needlessly drain the treasury.
Why would he follow her to the Western Capital now?
As she pondered, Ruo Tao, unnoticed, walked up to her side and gently tugged at her sleeve. "Mother, Mother..."
She turned and, seeing it was Ruo Tao, her expression softened. "What is it?"Ruo Tao's eyes curved into crescents as she whispered, "Grandmother just told me that today is Mother Empress's birthday."
She froze.
The seventh day of the third month...
How could she have forgotten? Thirty years ago on this very day, she had been born. It was also the day his mother, the Empress, had jokingly declared she would be appointed as his Crown Princess.
After all these twists and turns, she had finally returned to where it all began.
She used to believe that winning his devoted affection was solely due to her relentless efforts, never realizing that the bond between them had been predestined by fate.
Her lips curved into a smile as she bent down to stroke her daughter's hair, saying softly, "Shall we go out of the palace together to welcome your father back?"
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