As dusk fell, the sounds of hunting in the hunting grounds gradually subsided.
Lanterns were lit throughout the camp, where imperial chefs skillfully wielded their knives and cleavers, cutting, frying, roasting, and grilling the game into delicious dishes.
Yet only two people remained to enjoy these delicacies—no longer the Empress and the Emperor, but Xie Yanfang and the Emperor.
Xie Yanfang sliced a piece of roasted meat with his knife and placed it on Xiao Yu’s plate. "Your Majesty, try the game I hunted."
Xiao Yu’s expression was somewhat numb as he stared at the roasted meat before him. "Do you want Sister Chu to die?" he asked.
Xie Yanfang replied, "If I wanted her dead, she wouldn’t be sitting here today." He looked at Xiao Yu. "After she saved you, she could have died then. Whether she lives or dies has nothing to do with whether you live or die."
Xiao Yu understood the meaning behind these words.
He had survived and ascended the throne. He had soldiers, court officials, and the Xie family by his side. No matter how chaotic the court or how turbulent the Great Xia Dynasty, he, as the Emperor, would remain unaffected.
He was himself, yet not entirely himself. He represented the lives and livelihoods of many, which was why so many sought to kill him and so many others were determined to protect him. Empress Chu Zhao was one of them.
When she was present, she accomplished many things. If she were gone, someone else would immediately step into her place and carry out the same duties.
Xiao Yu gripped his knife tightly as this thought crossed his mind, leaving him disoriented. He couldn’t imagine who that "someone else" might be, nor did he want to.
It wouldn’t be the same.
No one could be like Sister Chu.
Even if others could do what Sister Chu did, they would never treat him the way she did.
He was terrified of losing Sister Chu, but now, in the blink of an eye, he had lost her.
He didn’t even know what had happened…
He had only wanted to persuade Sister Chu through Xie Yanfang, or even force her to stay, but he never intended to deploy troops against her.
How could those soldiers point their swords and crossbows at Sister Chu!
"You won’t persuade her this way," he murmured. "Sister Chu has never been afraid of threats."
Xie Yanfang said, "I know."
He wasn’t threatening her; he was merely keeping her.
"Persuasion, A’Yu, remember this: it only works when the other person can convince themselves. Otherwise, no matter how much you say, it’s useless."
"So, at times like this, all you need to do is keep her here."
With that, he picked up his plate and stood.
"Now, Your Majesty, all you need to do is wait quietly for this matter to pass. There’s no need to overthink it—it won’t help anyway."
He glanced at the rigidly seated young boy and smiled faintly.
"Eat more. Don’t try to threaten me by refusing to eat, and don’t think eating more will win my favor either."
Then he turned and left.
Xie Yanfang had always presented himself as a subordinate in front of Xiao Yu—respectful and amiable. But at this moment, he was aloof and distant, standing high above.
Xiao Yu watched Xie Yanfang’s retreating figure, feeling no sense of strangeness. Instead, it felt familiar.
This was the Third Uncle he had known in his childhood—the one his mother had often spoken of, the brilliant, capable, and seemingly omnipotent uncle who doted on him.
But in reality, this uncle had never visited him and had no interest in seeing him.
In this uncle’s eyes, there was no Xiao Yu—only the Crown Grandson.
Xiao Yu lowered his head and slowly cut into the meat. Tears dripped onto it, and he mixed them in as he chewed large mouthfuls.
No one was like Sister Chu. Only Sister Chu had ever treated him as Xiao Yu.
…
…Outside the tent, layers of guards stood in alternating patches of light and shadow, just as before, only the person imprisoned had changed.
Xie Yanfang pushed past the guards, lifted the tent flap, and stepped inside.
Chu Zhao sat at the desk, a brush in one hand and a document in the other, frowning in deep thought. She didn’t acknowledge the newcomer.
"Your Highness, have something to eat," Xie Yanfang said, walking over and setting down a tray.
Only then did Chu Zhao glance at it, but she didn’t put down her brush.
"It’s not poisoned," Xie Yanfang added.
Chu Zhao smiled faintly. "Young Master Xie, you jest. Though it’s said one must guard against even one’s father, husband, or wife, that applies only when the sides are evenly matched. In my current state, I’ve no fear of you poisoning me."
She waved the document in her hand.
"I’ll eat after I finish reviewing this."
Xie Yanfang sat down, picked up another document from the desk, and scanned the comments written on it. "Miss Azhao remains dutiful and conscientious even now," he remarked.
Chu Zhao continued writing, her tone detached. "Though I owe my stable position as Empress to your support, Young Master Xie, the Great Xia court’s state today is the fruit of my own blood and sweat. No matter how much I resent you, I’ve no reason to ruin my own efforts."
Xie Yanfang chuckled. "That’s precisely why you deserve to be Empress."
Chu Zhao offered no response.
Her silence didn’t prompt further words from Xie Yanfang. He averted his gaze and lowered his eyes to the memorial.
They sat quietly across from each other, the tent filled only with the occasional soft crackle of the lamp’s flame. At some point, perhaps after finishing a memorial, Xie Yanfang felt the girl’s gaze fixed on him.
Staring and staring.
He looked up, meeting her eyes. "What is Miss Azhao looking at?" He touched his cheek. "I went hunting today and got blood on me, but I washed it off."
The girl’s expression was peculiar, her words even stranger.
She said, "I’ve long heard of your fame, and today I finally see you in person."
Xie Yanfang smiled slightly. "So the present me seems unfamiliar to you, as if we’ve just met." He sighed softly. "It’s inevitable for people to grow distant at times, and feeling unfamiliar is natural. But don’t worry—all paths under heaven converge. You and I will grow familiar again."
Chu Zhao laughed and nodded. Yes, exactly. These were the words that Xie Yanfang would say.
Xie Yanfang wasn’t wrong—she did regard him as a stranger. But no matter how clever he was, he couldn’t guess that her emotion stemmed from another lifetime’s Xie Yanfang.
Swallow Wolf.
In that lifetime, the name Swallow Wolf of the Xie family reached her ears almost daily, yet she never laid eyes on him before her death.
In this life, she had met Xie Yanfang early on. Together, they had protected Xiao Yu and shattered Xiao Xun’s imperial destiny.
The Young Master Xie she knew in this life was refined, amiable, proud yet witty. Of course, he was clever and formidable too, but these were qualities she witnessed from the same side.
His cleverness and prowess held no threat; instead, they were pleasing.
Only now, at this moment, did she see Xie Yanfang standing on the opposing side.
His expression remained gentle, his demeanor still polished, but whether in his gaze or his words, he was like cold jade—aloof and chilling.
He sat before her, smiling, yet he was lofty and indifferent, looking down from above.
This must have been how Xie Yanfang was in that other lifetime. In this life, she had finally seen it for herself.Chu Zhao felt a pang of melancholy. In this life, she had protected Xiao Yu, retained Deng Yi, and altered the fate of Xiao Xun ascending the throne, which had provoked the Xie family’s rebellion.
Deng Yi remained the Grand Tutor, and the Xie family no longer needed to rebel—they retained their glory and honor.
But she also knew that starting together did not guarantee they would not turn against each other. She and Deng Yi had grown distant over power struggles, and conflicts with Xie Yanfang were inevitable. Yet she never imagined that Xie Yanfang’s falling out with her would not be because she sought to become Empress, monopolize power, suppress powerful ministers and imperial relatives, or act recklessly—but precisely because she did none of these things—
Chu Zhao lifted her head and let out a long sigh.
Even a deity could not have foreseen this.
No matter how she thought about it, it was baffling.
Chu Zhao had initially wanted to ask him if it was because she had hidden her mother and private troops, making him doubt her sincerity in relinquishing the Empress’s position.
But as she looked into Xie Yanfang’s eyes, the words stuck in her throat. She could tell that was not the reason.
He was simply furious because she refused to become Empress.
"Third Young Master," Chu Zhao said, looking at him, "what good would a resentful Empress on the throne do for you? You don’t actually believe time will heal all wounds, do you? Or perhaps you’re confident enough to make me a puppet, but let me tell you—unless I am dead, even if you turn me into a human swine, I will drag my jar and crash into you."
As she spoke, Xie Yanfang listened attentively. When she finished, he smiled faintly.
"As a subject and an imperial relative, I never expected to coexist harmoniously with the Empress in court."
"When the ruler is strong, the ministers are weak; when the ministers are strong, the ruler is weak. Stalemates between sovereign and subject are inevitable."
"So, Your Majesty need not worry. Be the Empress to your heart’s content. This subject will ensure his own survival."
The lamplight flickered in the room, casting a pale, moonlike glow on Xie Yanfang’s smile. Chu Zhao opened her mouth to speak but found no words.
"Third Young Master, this seems either fearless or magnanimous," she said with a mocking smile. "But in truth, it’s nothing more than your punishment and retaliation against me."
Xie Yanfang’s lips curved slightly, but he remained silent.
"A chess piece that defies your will and refuses to fall into place on your board—imprisoned and bound, seething with resentment—is nothing but a trapped beast struggling in vain."
"Is there anything more satisfying than watching a trapped beast struggle?"
Xie Yanfang seemed to ponder for a moment before replying, "Most of the time, that is indeed the case. But—" He pressed a hand to his chest and shook his head. "For Miss A Zhao, it is not so. I genuinely feel regret."
Regret? Regret for what? Chu Zhao almost laughed, but before she could speak, footsteps sounded outside the tent, and someone called, "Young Master."
Xie Yanfang turned slightly and acknowledged with a soft "Hmm."
Only then did the person outside dare to continue, "There is some commotion outside."
What kind of commotion?
Xie Yanfang glanced at Chu Zhao, rose, and stepped out. As the tent flap lifted, Chu Zhao heard distant clamoring, as if a crowd was arguing noisily.
"The court officials are demanding to see the Empress—"
Just then, Xie Yanfang walked out. The curtain fell, obscuring his figure and cutting off the voices.
Court officials? Chu Zhao tightened her grip on the brush in her hand. A drop of ink fell from its tip, glinting coldly.
OpenNovel