Love and Crown

Every young girl has that one or two people whose figures once caught her eye and could never be forgotten. Thinking of him brings a bittersweet ache, and even many years later, while resting under a flower trellis, she might still dream of him—his voice and face as vivid as yesterday, smiling against a backdrop long faded, just like the day they first met.

I too have dreamed of that person, especially on those pitch-black, bone-chilling nights, dreaming of the young man who once smiled at me in the autumn breeze of Jiangnan.

Then I open my eyes, only to see the eternally towering and desolate backdrop of the rear hall of the Palace of Gathered Elegance, looming darkly, appearing especially sinister.

At such times, I wrap the blankets tighter around myself, wondering who will be serving in the Hall of Mental Cultivation tonight, before slowly drifting back to sleep amid a jumble of guesses.

This feeling is far from pleasant.

Of course, the feeling of lying in bed waiting for a man to summon you isn’t pleasant either.

Right now, I’m wearing my undergarments, lying on the bed in the eastern chamber of the rear hall of the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

This bed is truly extravagant, entirely inlaid with crystal and silver glass, its curtains embroidered with a hundred immortals, adorned with sachets and pearls of every color, surrounded by brocade. Lying here, one feels as if resting on a cloud.

This is the exclusive privilege of the Empress of Great Wu. The imperial bedchamber in the Hall of Mental Cultivation has two dragon beds. By tradition, concubines summoned to serve the Emperor use the bed in the western chamber, while the eastern chamber’s bed is reserved solely for the Empress.

Perhaps the Empress Dowager’s words had some effect—the day after our conversation, the imperial edict summoning me to the Hall of Mental Cultivation finally arrived at the Palace of Gathered Elegance.

After bathing and dressing, I rode in a soft-canopied palanquin to the Hall of Mental Cultivation and now lie on this excessively ornate bed, waiting for Xiao Huan.

By protocol, I could only wear undergarments upon arrival. The brocade quilt covering me is rather thin, and by the time my body, still warm from the bath, begins to stiffen, Xiao Huan finally arrives.

The attendants had long since withdrawn. He steps forward, lifting the gauzy canopy that hangs like mist in the air, and smiles faintly. His eyes are double-pupiled, their depths dark as ink, revealing no emotion. "Is the Empress well?"

I smile, sitting up with the quilt wrapped around me, casting him a coy glance. "Quite well, though I nearly fell asleep waiting."

"Is the Empress blaming me for being late?" He still wears that light smile, standing some distance from the bed, his face half-lit by the glazed lantern, expression unreadable.

"This concubine wouldn’t dare. Your Majesty is burdened with countless affairs, toiling day and night. What does it matter if I wait a little longer?" I laugh softly, extending a hand toward him. "Your Majesty, may I assist you in undressing?"

He chuckles but doesn’t approach, letting the canopy fall and cutting off our line of sight as he turns to leave. "It’s late. The Empress should rest early."

"Your Majesty!" Flustered, I clutch the quilt and push aside the bed curtains, scrambling down. "Don’t go!"

He doesn’t look back, his steps unwavering.

"Your Majesty!" My panic makes me reckless. "I’m no worse than those other women. I’ll serve you well."

Only then does he pause—but still doesn’t turn. "Empress, if neither of us has any real intention, why force it?"

"Are you saying you have feelings for those women? If it’s fine with them, why not with me?" My thoughts are a tangled mess; I don’t even know what I’m saying.

He hesitates, then suddenly laughs softly. "I have no desire to share a bed with a woman whose heart belongs to another man."I froze for a moment, my voice hoarse: "What do you mean by this?"

He smiled: "Has the Empress forgotten? Didn't you say it to me yourself? That the one you love is Luo Xian Xue?"His cold smile grew colder, his voice even lower: 'Empress, I hope we can leave some room for each other.'".. so that our coexistence won't be too difficult."

"You don't care about any of this!" I was nearly hysterical, blurting out, "You don't care whether I love someone else! You don't even like me!"

My head buzzed... What was I saying?

The surroundings fell into dead silence. Xiao Huan's back remained motionless.

I took a deep breath to calm myself: "Your Majesty should know best—I am your Empress, and you are my husband. This has nothing to do with who you love or who I love. We only need to act like an Emperor and Empress, isn't that enough?"

He remained silent. The room was so quiet it was suffocating.

I gripped the corner of the quilt, hesitating before speaking again: "Your Majesty... is that not acceptable?"

After a long pause, his shoulders moved slightly, as if he were laughing softly: "Take care, Empress."

With that, he walked out, never once looking back from beginning to end.

I watched his retreating figure, that azure silhouette quickly fading, disappearing into the night outside the door—gone in the end, as always.

Standing on the floor, I lowered my head.

I had jumped down too hastily, without shoes. My feet pressed against the fine golden bricks, the cold biting to the bone. Suddenly, I wanted to curse whoever had designed this room—decorated so lavishly, yet too stingy to lay down even a single rug.

How many times had it been now? Summoned to this room in the Hall of Mental Cultivation, only to be left alone?

Xiao Huan had never touched me, not even on our wedding night. Each time, he would turn away with that faint yet icy smile, leaving me with only his back.

Months after the grand wedding, the Empress of Great Wu remained a virgin—what a colossal joke that would be if word got out.

Sometimes I wondered if my marriage to Xiao Huan was itself a joke... It was I who had said that the one I loved was Luo Xian Xue.

Xian Xue was an assassin under my elder brother's command. As a means to consolidate power, my Master had once raised many assassins, and Xian Xue was the most capable among them—a swift sword that never failed to kill, never missed its mark. In the half year before I entered the palace, Xian Xue and I had grown very close.

That day, clinging to Xian Xue's arm, I stood before Xiao Huan and told him that the one I loved was Xian Xue. I said, enunciating every word clearly: "I will be your Empress, but the one I love has always been Luo Xian Xue."

At that moment, Xiao Huan had simply gazed at me quietly, the same faint, polite smile lingering at his lips. Then he turned and left, just as he would on countless nights to come, turning away from my bedside—his back rigid, never looking back.

Did he find all this laughable? Like some clumsy joke not even worth seeing through to the end.

Who had played such a cruel trick? The late Emperor who had personally appointed me as the future Empress on his deathbed? Or the gods seated high above the nine heavens?I retreated to the bed and sat down, curling my legs up as I squatted on this excessively large dragon bed. I began counting on my fingers: as long as none of the other concubines had borne children yet, I still had hope. My goal was to conceive Xiao Huan’s child—preferably a prince. That way, I wouldn’t just become empress, but might even become the mother of the future emperor. If that happened, I could preserve my family’s power and my father’s position. It would be perfect.

Wasn’t it just a matter of coaxing a man into bed? I was still young, with plenty of opportunities and time.

Thinking this way, I felt much warmer.

The next day, I left the palace.

The Forbidden Palace wasn’t lacking in my father’s trusted allies, so arranging a private excursion wasn’t impossible. I just rarely did it—the crime of a consort leaving the palace without permission was serious, and getting caught would be troublesome.

I exited through the palace gates and headed to the Chui Ge Cottage, our family’s villa in the southern city. Coincidentally, my elder brother wasn’t there, and neither was Xian Xue.

I had someone brew a pot of osmanthus tea and waited for them in the pavilion.

The pavilion had been built years ago by Master and my brother with their own hands. Master had also planted a large cluster of four o’clocks at the corner of the pavilion, which still thrived today, lush and full of buds.

The slightly bitter fragrance of osmanthus lingered on my tongue. By the time the tea had cooled and fiery clouds streaked the sky, Xian Xue finally returned.

He seemed surprised to see me there. Walking over, he smiled. “Young Mistress.”

Xian Xue used to call me “Cang Cang.” At some point, for some reason, he had started addressing me as “Young Mistress” instead.

I smiled back at him and blinked. “So? Were the girls at Cuiwei Tower beautiful?”

When I first arrived at the villa, I’d heard that Xian Xue had gone to Cuiwei Tower in the Eight Great Lanes today. Lately, it seemed he’d taken a liking to some girl there, often staying for long stretches of time.

Xian Xue paused, his amber eyes flickering before he chuckled. “They’re obedient, at least.”

“Xian Xue, you’ve reached the age of twenty this year, haven’t you?” I teased. “If you’ve really found someone you like, treat her well. A true heart is hard to come by.”

Xian Xue laughed, his gaze shifting slightly. “A wanderer like me shouldn’t ask for too much.”

“Since when does Xian Xue talk like this?” I joked. “Wanderer or not, don’t tell me you’ve started caring about status differences now.”

Xian Xue smiled lazily, as he often did. “It’s nothing. Just feels like these hands are stained with too much blood. Asking for more would be greedy.”

I was taken aback. Xian Xue had never said anything so disheartened before.

I grinned and stood, slowly moving closer before suddenly striking out—my folding fan aimed straight for his throat. Xian Xue froze for a split second before his right hand shot out, catching the fan just before it reached his neck.

Once he had it, he didn’t move.

His amber eyes lifted, pupils glinting with faint amusement as he uttered the line I’d heard countless times: “If you want to ambush me, go train for another hundred years.”

I burst into laughter, the joy of old times flooding my heart, and suddenly I felt much better.

For the rest of the time, Xian Xue and I sat in the pavilion, chatting idly about the things we used to talk about. He didn’t ask why I was here, and I didn’t bring it up. The two of us talked as freely and happily as we had before I entered the palace.Finally, as dusk fell and it grew later, I feared I might miss the palace curfew, so I rose to bid Xian Xue farewell.

He stood up with a smile. "Once you leave, who knows when I'll see the young mistress again."

I chuckled and joked lightly, "If you really want to see me, I could risk execution by sneaking out every day. How about that? Aren't you afraid you won't be able to repay such a favor?"

Xian Xue smiled but remained silent, simply looking at me.

I paused, realizing my words had been too flippant, and quickly averted my gaze beyond the pavilion.

Below the steps, the evening primroses had quietly bloomed in the twilight, their colorful petals tightly clustered together, swaying gently in the breeze.

"Xian Xue," I said after a moment of silence, lifting my head to smile at him. "There's one more thing I haven't said: I missed you terribly these past days."

Xian Xue smiled back, his lazy grin carrying a faint warmth. "I missed you too, young mistress."

I tilted my head with a smile, then stood and walked away, leaving Xian Xue behind in the dusk-shrouded pavilion.

I enjoyed being with Xian Xue.

Every time I saw him, I was reminded of beautiful things—lazy afternoons, serene and lovely courtyards, fields bathed in the golden light of sunset. Memories tied to Xian Xue were always leisurely and carefree.

Even though he was an assassin, someone who should belong to bloodshed and death.

Hurrying back, I barely made it before the palace gates closed. As soon as I stepped through the rear entrance of the Palace of Gathered Elegance, Xiaoshan intercepted me, her voice frantic. "Miss, you're finally back!"

"What's the matter? Did His Majesty suddenly go mad with longing for me and come looking?" I laughed carelessly, changing out of my disguise.

"What nonsense!" Xiaoshan stamped her foot in frustration. "It's that woman Xing Yiyong with the impossibly long name who came looking for you!" She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, stomping her foot again in agitation. Privately, I always referred to Consort De, Xing Yiyong, as "that woman with the impossibly long name," and in her panic, Xiaoshan had blurted it out.

I suppressed a laugh at Xiaoshan's reddening face as she rushed out the rest. "Consort De came to thank you for the book you gifted her the other day! I told her you were napping and barely managed to keep her outside. It's almost dusk now! Even a pig would have woken up by now! If you hadn't returned, we wouldn't have been able to keep up the lie!"

I burst out laughing, but seeing how genuinely flustered she was, I didn't dare tease her further. "Alright, alright, your mistress is back now, isn't she? Go tell her I was exhausted from attending His Majesty in the Hall of Mental Cultivation last night and only just woke up. I'll freshen up and see her shortly—ask for her forgiveness."

Xiaoshan finally exhaled in relief, shooting me an indignant glare before hurrying off to deliver the message.

After changing into proper attire and styling my hair into a palace bun, I steadied my still-rapid breathing. When I felt composed enough, I slowly made my way to the front hall.

Xing Yiyong sat gracefully on one side of the divan, her attire simple yet dignified. I approached and took her hand, smiling. "I told the servants not to disturb me even if His Majesty came, but I never thought they'd take it so seriously. I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting so long, Sister De Fei."

Xing Yiyong lowered her head deferentially, her expression calm and respectful, betraying no displeasure. "This humble consort was presumptuous to disturb Her Majesty's rest."

She remained unshaken. I had deliberately mentioned attending the Emperor the previous night, hoping to provoke her.I smiled and held Xing Yiyong’s hand. “What kind of talk is this, sister? I’ve always regarded you as my own elder sister. How could it be presumptuous for a sister to visit her younger sister? If anything, it’s this thoughtless younger sister who should be blamed for sleeping so soundly and making you wait.”

Xing Yiyong smiled faintly. “The books Her Majesty the Empress gifted me a few days ago were much to my liking. I’ve been meaning to come and thank you.”

I smiled warmly. “Knowing your love for reading, I personally selected those for you. I’m glad you enjoyed them.”

Xing Yiyong lowered her eyes demurely. “You’ve gone to such trouble for me, Your Majesty.”

“Not at all,” I laughed. “You’re far too courteous, sister.”

She bowed her head in that perpetually meek, cautious, and silent manner she maintained everywhere.

But was that truly all there was to her? The only consort besides Du Tingxin to be granted principal rank, daughter of Xing Yu—the Minister of Personnel, Grand Preceptor to the Crown Prince, Grand Secretary of the Wenhua Palace, and the second most powerful official in court—could she really be so simple?

After an intimate conversation, I kept Xing Yiyong for dinner at the Palace of Gathered Elegance before seeing her off. I had Xiaoshan carry a lantern to escort her all the way to the palace gates.

Not long after, the palace prepared for the Empress Dowager’s birthday celebration, the Sacred Longevity Festival.

As the Empress Dowager’s birthday fell in summer, the palace held grand festivities every year—fireworks, operas, lantern riddles, poetry contests, duck fights, and water games—with three full days of revelry.

Though I had only entered the palace this year, I was already familiar with such celebrations. As the future empress, I had attended both the Empress Dowager’s and the emperor’s birthdays by imperial decree every year. The only difference now was that I attended as empress.

Hand in hand with Xiao Huan, we appeared at the brilliantly lit banquet, surrounded by jubilantly dressed consorts and imperial relatives. Across the lotus pond adorned with thousand-petal lanterns sat numerous noble daughters, each adorned in their finest, attending the feast.

Compared to previous emperors, the current harem was rather sparse. Convention dictated an extensive selection of beauties to fill the inner court after the imperial wedding, but Xiao Huan seemed disinterested. Apart from Du Tingxin, Xing Yiyong and the few remaining attending ladies and talents had all been chosen by the Empress Dowager.

The vacancies inevitably made families eager to advance their daughters’ positions covetous. Half the young ladies present likely hoped to catch Xiao Huan’s eye.

Sure enough, shortly after we were seated, shy, coquettish glances began drifting across the pond from the other side.

Amused by the affected mannerisms of those noble misses, my gaze swept over Du Tingxin and Xing Yiyong at the lower tables, and a mischievous idea struck me.

Deliberately leaning closer to Xiao Huan on the dais, I took his hand and placed it intimately on my knee. “The night air is chilly. Is Your Majesty feeling well? Your hands are so cold.”

He turned to look at me but didn’t withdraw his hand, smiling faintly. “Thank you for your concern, Empress. I’m quite well.”

I softened my voice further. “Your Majesty labors tirelessly for the state yet neglects your health. It pains me to see it.”

Even I nearly gagged at my own words and had to take two quick breaths to steady myself.

Xiao Huan seemed equally startled. Though his smile remained composed, he offered no reply.Yet these few seemingly ambiguous and intimate words had already successfully dimmed those wolf-like gazes from across the way.

With a hint of smugness, I deliberately leaned in closer, tightening my grip on Xiao Huan's hand.

The hand in my palm was indeed somewhat cold. As my fingers brushed against his palm—contrary to what many might imagine—this slender hand did not belong to someone who had lived a pampered life. His palm was calloused, some marks left by the brush, but most were worn by the hilt of a sword.

What many would never guess was that their frail, often-ailing emperor, when gripping that sword shimmering with a blue glow, wielded a brilliance unmatched by any.

For a brief moment, I was lost in thought. When I snapped back to reality, I realized I had gripped Xiao Huan's hand too tightly, my nails digging into his flesh.

I must have hurt him. Quickly loosening my hold, I looked up, but his expression remained unchanged as he calmly withdrew his hand.

Helpless, I could only flash him a coquettish smile. Halfway through, I suddenly noticed that the Empress Dowager, who had been sitting serenely at the head of the banquet receiving congratulations, had caught the unusual commotion and was now staring in our direction.

I hurriedly composed myself and smoothly navigated the situation with practiced charm.

After the Imperial Birthday Festival, the one who stole the spotlight was Consort De, Xing Yiyong. She had ingeniously arranged nine thousand tiny characters for "longevity" into the shape of a large "Buddha" character—a gift for the devoutly Buddhist Empress Dowager. The Empress Dowager praised her endlessly and even bestowed upon her a sandalwood prayer bead bracelet she had carried for years.

Thanks to the Empress Dowager's favor, Xing Yiyong also gained more attention from Xiao Huan, frequently summoned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation to keep him company.

As for me, nothing changed. The Empress Dowager still treated me with superficial affection while remaining wary behind my back. Xiao Huan remained indifferent, occasionally summoning me to his bedchamber only to leave after a glance, abandoning me alone in bed.

I’ve always been oblivious to seasonal changes. It wasn’t until Xiaoshan started putting away the heavier clothes and I began seeing more palace ladies flitting about in sheer gauze that I realized—midsummer had arrived.

What does one do in summer?

Before entering the palace, I remembered there were plenty of things to do—riding to the Red Leaf Temple in the Western Hills to escape the heat, boating on Mirror Lake near the Forbidden Palace to pick lotus pods, or heading to the night market in the southern city for a bowl of crystal jelly. In the evenings, I could sit in the garden at home under the moonlit steps, listening to Master’s far-fetched tales of the Martial World.

There really were so many things to do in summer… but now, all I could do was follow behind the Chief Eunuch Feng Wufu of the Ceremonial Directorate as he led me to the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

I had just woken from my afternoon nap, pondering how to pass the time, when Feng Wufu suddenly appeared at the gates of the Palace of Gathered Elegance.

Feng Wufu had served in the palace for over twenty years, attending to two emperors. Over a decade ago, during the reign of the late emperor, he was already the Chief Eunuch of the Ceremonial Directorate. After the late emperor’s passing, he continued serving Xiao Huan, remaining flawless in his duties for eight years. Now, Feng Wufu was the Grand Steward whom no one in the palace dared offend—one of Xiao Huan’s most trusted aides.

Today was truly unusual. Not only had Xiao Huan summoned me during the day, but he had even sent Feng Wufu personally to escort me. I couldn’t help feeling a little flattered.

Passing through the Great Right Gate, down the long corridor, then through the Harmony Right Gate and winding verandas—the Hall of Mental Cultivation was just ahead.As soon as I entered the door of the rear hall, I saw Xiao Huan and Du Tingxin standing side by side in front of the couch, holding up a scroll of painting to examine.

Noticing my entrance, Xiao Huan looked up with a smile. "The Empress has arrived? Come take a look at this authentic Mi Fu's 'Shu Su Tie'—just presented by Lin Weimin, the governor of Liangjiang. Tingxin insists it's a fake, while I believe it's genuine. What do you think?"

So he summoned me here just to look at calligraphy and paintings? I walked over with a smile. "This humble consort lacks such refined knowledge, unlike Your Majesty and Sister Tingxin. How could I possibly discern its authenticity?"

Xiao Huan smiled, "Why is the Empress being so modest? Although you may not be well-versed in calligraphy and painting, you possess discerning eyes. I was hoping to borrow your judgment."

"Then this humble consort thanks Your Majesty for the praise," I replied with a smile.

"No need for formalities," Xiao Huan chuckled as he examined the artwork. "Just now, Tingxin mentioned that the Shu silk used for this calligraphy appears too aged while the ink seems too fresh, suggesting it might be a later forgery. But I believe it to be genuine."

"Since Huan..." Du Tingxin, who had remained silent until now, began to protest with a light laugh. She had been about to say "Brother Huan," but upon noticing my presence, corrected herself, "Since Your Majesty claims it's authentic, you must provide some reasoning to convince me."

Xiao Huan sighed softly and smiled. "Mi Fu's brushstrokes are like swift swords charging through battle formations, arrows flying a thousand miles. Though praised for 'revealing edges from all sides,' his compositions maintain orderly variation with balanced spacing. The coarse texture of Shu silk makes writing difficult—so much so that the Shao family passed down a piece through three generations before anyone dared write on it, until Mi Fu saw it and completed it effortlessly in one go..."

Du Tingxin interrupted him with playful reproach, "Why is Your Majesty lecturing so extensively? The characteristics of Mi Fu's calligraphy and the origins of the 'Shu Silk Scroll' are common knowledge. What's there to elaborate?"

"Indeed, Mi Fu's style is hard to imitate, and Shu silk even more challenging to write on. If I were forging a piece, I'd rather copy anything else than attempt this notoriously difficult 'Shu Silk Scroll,'" Xiao Huan replied leisurely, unperturbed.

"This..." Du Tingxin hesitated, then suddenly tugged at me. "Let the Empress decide—who's right?"

My knowledge of calligraphy is rudimentary at best, so I couldn't follow their discussion. Smiling, I said, "Both Your Majesty and Sister Tingxin make valid points. I don't know whom to side with."

"I see—Her Majesty must agree with me but dares not say so out of respect for His Majesty," Du Tingxin giggled, holding my arm. Her demeanor had always been as elegant and understated as an orchid. For a time, I'd thought her incapable of any expression beyond a gentle smile, never imagining she could display such varied charm in private—every glance and smile worthy of being captured in a painting. A beauty like her could truly make others feel inadequate.

"If Sister Tingxin insists, then I'll venture an opinion," I said, casting a glance at Xiao Huan. "In my view, this piece must be genuine."

"Oh? How so?" Du Tingxin regarded me with interest.

"From what I gather, His Majesty likely knew this was authentic even before unrolling the scroll," I replied with a smile. "I may lack expertise in authenticating artworks, but I do know that Governor Lin Weimin of Liangjiang is a cautious man who dislikes boasting. Unless he had verified it thoroughly, how would he dare present it to the palace?" I looked at Xiao Huan. "Your Majesty thought the same, didn't you? That's why I say you knew it was genuine before even seeing it."

Xiao Huan nodded with an approving smile. "I said the Empress had keen insight, and indeed so. Tingxin, are you convinced now?"

Du Tingxin gave a light humph. "Unlike Your Majesty and Her Majesty, I don't know this Lin Weimin. I was merely judging the piece on its own merits."

"Very well, let's focus solely on the artwork," Xiao Huan said indulgently. He rolled up the scroll and picked up another landscape painting from the small table beside the daybed, continuing to admire it with Du Tingxin.The entire afternoon was spent discussing various calligraphy and paintings. I occasionally chimed in, bored to death but unable to voice it—truly an excruciating experience.

Finally, when it was time for dinner, Xiao Huan set down the piece of calligraphy in his hand and stood up. "The Empress often comes to the Hall of Mental Cultivation later. Stay and dine here."

I was taken aback before realizing he meant he intended for me to stay the night. Though I had somewhat anticipated this when I came, I was still surprised. "Your Majesty, what’s the occasion today?"

Xiao Huan smiled. "Must there be a special occasion for me to keep the Empress?"

I hurriedly replied, "This consort did not mean it that way."

He chuckled. "For the Empress to be so surprised at being kept for just one night—it seems I truly have neglected her too much."

Du Tingxin seized the moment to interject, curtsying gracefully. "Your Majesty, Empress, Xin’er will take her leave now."

Xiao Huan quickly helped her up. "You’ve worked hard this afternoon as well."

Du Tingxin lifted her head to smile at him, then at me, before turning to leave.

Xiao Huan watched her retreating figure until she disappeared, then turned back to me with a smile. "I wonder if tonight’s dishes will suit the Empress’s taste."

Uncertain of his meaning, I answered casually, "This consort is accustomed to simplicity. Anything will do."

With my mind full of doubts, the dinner passed without much flavor.

After the meal, Xiao Huan still had many state affairs to attend to, so I excused myself first to bathe and prepare in the rear hall.

Removing makeup, bathing, steaming, and massage—the entire process took quite some time.

By the time everything was done, Xiao Huan still hadn’t returned from the front hall. I dismissed all my attendants and waited alone in the eastern side chamber.

The longer I waited idly, the more restless I grew. The small doubts in my heart gradually expanded: Xiao Huan had never liked keeping me for the night, and keeping me by his side the entire afternoon like today was utterly unprecedented. I certainly didn’t believe he had suddenly decided to favor me—what exactly was he planning?

Just as my thoughts grew more agitated, the window beside me was tapped twice, very lightly.

Someone trying to secretly pass me a message? I immediately bent down, and sure enough, after a pause, the window was tapped again, just as softly.

I approached the window and lowered my voice. "Who is it?"

"Empress?" The person spoke up at once, clearly relieved. "This servant is Little Ma."

"Little Ma from the Firewood Office?" I was surprised. This Little Ma was one of the men my father had planted in the palace. Because he worked in the Firewood Office, which had easy access, he often passed me messages from outside the palace. However, his rank was too low—by palace rules, he wasn’t permitted to move freely in the eastern and western palaces. Why would he risk violating palace regulations to come to the Hall of Mental Cultivation tonight?

"Empress, something’s happened," Little Ma said urgently. "This servant has been looking for you all afternoon. The Young Master ordered me to find a way to notify you—" He suddenly fell silent.

Footsteps approached from outside, followed by a "thud" as Little Ma’s voice trembled slightly. "P-paying respects to Your Majesty!"

I quickly circled around and pulled open the door. Stepping outside, I saw Xiao Huan standing on the steps, followed by Shi Yan, the commander of the Imperial Bodyguard Escort Battalion. Shi Yan’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword. When he saw me emerge, he took a step back.I bowed in greeting. "Your Majesty," I said, then turned my gaze to Little Ma, who was trembling as he prostrated on the ground. "Your Majesty, this person was summoned by me."

Xiao Huan remained silent for a long moment before finally speaking to Little Ma. "You may withdraw."

Not only was Little Ma stunned, but I was also taken aback. I had been racking my brain trying to think of how to defend Little Ma, never expecting Xiao Huan would let him go without even questioning him.

Little Ma quickly regained his composure, glanced up at me briefly, then kowtowed and hastily retreated.

Xiao Huan was still silent. Half of his face was shrouded in shadow, while the other half, illuminated by lamplight, appeared somewhat pale. I couldn't see his eyes clearly, but I heard him say, "Empress, this afternoon, an assassin infiltrated the palace."

"An assassin?" I was startled, then remembered I should show concern. "Your Majesty's safety is paramount. Were you frightened?"

Again, he didn't answer. Instead, he turned and said, "Come with me." Then he stood waiting for me.

Though confused, I stepped forward and followed him.

He led me silently from the rear hall to the front hall, only stopping when we reached the white marble steps.

I paused mid-step, then suddenly rushed down the stairs.

I could already see it—beneath the brightly lit jade steps, splattered with the mottled stains of battle, lay a figure in a pool of vivid blood, dressed in black night-clothes.

His hands were pinned down brutally, surrounded by Imperial Bodyguards in dark robes, their gleaming white swords pointed at his chest.

It felt as if my breath had stopped. I took another step forward.

As if sensing something, the man laboriously turned his head toward me, his amber eyes meeting mine. Then, very faintly, he lifted the corner of his mouth in a smile.

It was Xian Xue.

Xian Xue had entered the palace to assassinate... and had been captured, lying before me, drenched in blood.

My mind went blank.

Xian Xue looked at me, his gaze still carrying the same gentle warmth and faint amusement as before.

"Luo Xian Xue." A calm voice sounded behind me. Xiao Huan descended the steps, passed me, and stopped before Xian Xue. "The person you wished to see has been brought."

Xian Xue chuckled softly. He struggled to lift his head, his lips curling defiantly. "Thank you."

Before the last syllable had even faded, a sharp glint flashed through those amber eyes—cold as a blade, slicing through the heavy night.

At the same moment, his hands moved. The hands that had been firmly pinned to the ground suddenly twisted free. With a swift motion, he knocked aside the swords at his chest and seized one that had fallen from an Imperial Bodyguard's grasp. The black-clad figure leapt into the air with startling agility, the bloodied sword tracing a lightning-fast arc through the air—Xian Xue's Wuhua Sword, its strike as ruthless and decisive as thunder, aimed straight for Xiao Huan's heart.

Everything seemed to happen at once. All I saw was a flash of white sword light, the black silhouette swooping down like a diving eagle.

The sword carried an unyielding force, and they were too close—no one could intervene in time.

The cold steel tore through the air, the blade already at Xiao Huan's chest.

A gust of wind, fingers extended—the sword stopped.

The gleaming blade reflected in those unfathomable eyes. Xian Xue's sword, in that split second when no one could react, had been caught firmly between Xiao Huan's fingers.In that brief pause, I remembered something and cried out hoarsely, "Don't—"

At the same time as my words, Xiao Huan raised his palm and struck Xian Xue in the chest. With a heavy, muffled sound, that black shadow was sent flying sideways, landing heavily on the ground.

"Xian Xue!" I finally screamed, but my voice was so hoarse it didn’t sound like my own.

No one moved again. In the silence, the blood beneath Xian Xue slowly spread once more, staining the white jade floor red.

I rushed forward, frantically shoving aside the Imperial Bodyguards blocking my path, and dropped to my knees.

Too afraid to move his body, I leaned down and tremblingly brushed aside the disheveled hair covering Xian Xue’s face.

His face was covered in blood—it obscured his forehead and the brows that always seemed to lift slightly in amusement.

This was Xian Xue. The Xian Xue who loved to smile lazily. The Xian Xue whose brows were always filled with youthful arrogance. The Xian Xue whose unadorned sword had captivated the entire Martial World. The Xian Xue who would smile and hold an umbrella for me on snowy nights…

My head lowered further, as if doing so could stop the sharp, sour pain rising from the depths of my stomach.

An arm wrapped around my waist. My body jerked violently, and I turned, striking out with my palm while simultaneously thrusting two fingers of my left hand forward. My mind felt like it had been struck by a heavy hammer, leaving only chaos. In that moment, I had only one thought: kill this man.

My palm struck his chest, but the force behind it seemed to sink into an endless abyss. My wrist tightened—Xian Huan had already seized my left hand.

His arm still held my waist, and those unfathomable eyes showed no emotion.

My free right hand swung out wildly for a second strike. My vision held nothing but killing intent.

"He isn’t dead," Xiao Huan’s voice remained calm.

My hand froze mid-air, gradually stiffening.

He no longer looked at me, turning instead to the Imperial Bodyguards nearby. "Take him away."

Several Imperial Bodyguards quickly stepped forward, carefully lifting Xian Xue and carrying him off.

Xian Huan released his hold on my waist and stood, then ordered, "Escort Her Majesty the Empress back to her chambers."

After saying this, he didn’t glance down again before turning and leaving.

My legs had no strength left. I sat on the ground for a long time before slowly raising my hand. The traces of bright red blood still clung to my fingers, and beneath them, the icy coldness of Xian Xue’s skin grew clearer in my mind. His face had been so cold—so cold that I instinctively believed he was already dead. That was why rage had clouded my judgment, why I hadn’t thought to confirm before resolving to kill the one responsible for his death.

The night wind blew in gusts, and I shivered. What had I just done? I had tried to kill the Emperor? Without a moment’s hesitation, I had struck out at the most revered man in Great Wu.

"Your Majesty, please return to your palace." A low voice sounded beside me. I looked up to see Shi Yan standing nearby, his hand resting on his sword hilt, his reminder cold.

Biting my still-trembling lip, I pressed against the floor to stand and forced a smile at him. "Thank you, Commander Shi."

Shi Yan said nothing, merely bowing his head and stepping aside to make way—though his left hand remained tightly clenched around the hilt of his sword.

Perhaps it was just my imagination, but it seemed as though he feared that if he let go, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from drawing his blade and cutting me down.

No one in all of Great Wu could question this man’s loyalty to Xiao Huan.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to regain clarity and stepped past him, walking back to the rear palace.This wasn't the first time I'd lain on that excessively large dragon bed in the rear hall of the Hall of Mental Cultivation, dreaming. Each dream was similar, but tonight's was especially vivid.

The dream carried the delicate sweetness of osmanthus, laughter mingled with the sound of oars, and the moist, warm breeze of Jiangnan.

In the dream, a girl chattered tirelessly. She held onto that always slightly cold large hand, the calluses on his palm tickling her skin as she laughed and jumped up, calling out: "Brother Xiao, Brother Xiao."

The young man smiled gently, his eyes dark and bright, the slight curve at their corners filled with mirth, his voice as clear and mellow as the spring breeze in March: "Cang Cang, stop fooling around."

I never saw him as the lofty Son of Heaven, never cared about our respective statuses. The only thing I ever felt grateful for was that the man I was destined to marry happened to be him.

For just one of his smiles, I could be foolishly happy for half a day. Whenever we walked together, I would always hold his hand tightly, as if letting go would mean he'd silently slip away. The moment that pale blue figure entered my vision, I could bite my chopsticks and giggle endlessly. Every morning, I'd rush to his room with my hair sticking up like a bird's nest, and only when he flicked my forehead with his finger and those thin lips curved in a helpless smile to say, "Go wash up already..." would the day truly begin.

It seemed I poured everything into gazing at such a person, believing that this way, we could be reckless and stay together forever, believing that this way, our lives would simply continue like this.

I never imagined there could be another ending.

How did we come to this point?

Without exception, at the end of each dream, all those bright fragments would shatter, like a piece of brocade silk being torn apart. Blood-red light burst through the cracks, scorching flames devouring every scene, until all that remained was a vision of gushing blood.

It was in Daiyu City, the secondary capital. In that quiet, leisurely little courtyard, I carried a pot of freshly brewed tea into the backyard and saw Xiao Huan holding a short sword. Blood slid down the blade, dripping to the ground. At his feet lay the headless corpse of my master.

The fresh corpse seemed still sentient; fingers half-buried in the soil twitched slightly.

A scream tore uncontrollably from my throat. The teapot fell to the ground at some point, and in my hand appeared a long sword.

The faintly green-glowing blade pierced the pale blue figure before me. Warm blood splashed onto my face. Through the haze of crimson, he reached out as if to caress my cheek, his pallid lips moving slightly. But in the end, he said nothing, only pressing a finger to my pressure point to render me unconscious.

When I awoke again, everything had changed.

My master had conspired with dissidents from the Martial World to rebel—he got what he deserved. Though my father was somewhat involved, considering his ignorance of the plot and his years of meritorious service in assisting governance, he was temporarily spared punishment.

Our wedding date approached, and the reins of governance gradually shifted toward the emperor, who was about to assume personal rule.

Amid preparations for the grand wedding at home, I arranged to meet Xiao Huan outside the palace. Holding Xian Xue's hand, I said to him word by word: "I loved you once. I will marry you and become your empress. But now, the one I love is Luo Xian Xue."Such words, naive yet cruel, were me forcing myself—forcing myself to forget those beautiful memories. Only by doing so could there be a dignified and virtuous empress in the depths of the palace, not a madwoman.

He didn’t need a foolish girl who loved him blindly and was used by him. So, I would give him a competent empress instead.

On the night of our grand wedding, he lifted the beaded veil covering my face. Reflected in each other’s eyes was a pair of cold, distant imperial rulers—even the unruffled gaze in our eyes seemed identical.

My dry eyes stared at the ornate canopy above the grand bed. My muddled mind could no longer distinguish how much was dream and how much was uncontrollable wandering thoughts after waking from a nightmare.

On a summer morning in the eighth year of Virtuous Blessing, this woman who had long since become empress awoke from an old dream and began to sort through everything that had happened.