The wind rustled outside the window. In the vast, empty hall with its heavy drapes, the imperial physician had just withdrawn after checking her pulse when Aunt Yun entered the hall. Dressed in the court robes of a first-rank female official, she paid Nalan a formal salute but remained kneeling.
Seeing this, Nalan gave a helpless bitter smile and asked, "What is the matter, Aunt?"
Aunt Yun was already very old, her hair silver with frost, her wrinkles deep. Her eyes, usually dull and cloudy, now shone as sharp as blades. Lifting her head, she gazed piercingly at Nalan and said in a low voice, "His Majesty has gone to Yanxi Mountain again."
Nalan neither confirmed nor denied it, smiling calmly as she nodded. "The Xuan King has rendered great service to the empire. It is a good thing that His Majesty shows such consideration for a meritorious subject, is it not?"
The hall was so quiet that the sound of the wind passing through the distant corridors could be heard. Aunt Yun knelt there, silently watching her without speaking. Her gaze was not particularly stern, yet under that silent scrutiny, the facade Nalan had maintained gradually faded away.
She sighed helplessly and said with a bitter smile, "What do you want me to do, Aunt? I am doing well now, and His Majesty has not broken his original vow. Why stir up trouble?"
"But His Majesty hates you!"
Aunt Yun suddenly exclaimed with agitation. "He hates you for taking away the Xuan King's military authority, for transferring his personal guards, for reassigning him to the East Sea, for intercepting the final letter the Xuan King wrote to him. He believes the Xuan King was his true sworn brother who stood by him. All these years, he has grown to loathe you deeply. Do you not know this?"
"Yes, he loathes me deeply."
Nalan smiled faintly, her voice even carrying a hint of delight as she said cheerfully, "You see, Aunt, he is not an unfeeling man. He still treats this sworn brother of his quite well."
"Princess!"
Aunt Yun finally grew angry, leaning on her cane as she stood up, her face livid with rage.
Nalan coughed lightly twice, then sighed helplessly. "Aunt, you are so advanced in years. Why is your temper still so fiery?"
Aunt Yun said nothing, only staring fixedly at her. Nalan continued to smile, yet the smile carried an indescribable bitterness.
"What do you want me to do? Use this as leverage to beg His Majesty for a shred of affection? Aunt, what do you take me for? Just because the kingdom has fallen, has Hongye lost all her dignity?"
Aunt Yun was suddenly stunned. The candlelight in the hall fell upon her aged face, revealing a helpless sense of vicissitude.
"I do not live for myself alone. Behind me, there are thousands of imperial clansmen. With the title of Empress and the bond with Xuan Mo, we remnants of Huai Song can still live without too much hardship."
Aunt Yun frowned, struggling to argue, "But if His Majesty knew the truth, he would treat you well too. There is no difference."
"There is a difference." Nalan turned her head, a soft, faint smile playing on her lips. "You understand."
The incense smoke curled upward in delicate wisps. The night had deepened, and the heavy curtains fell, making the palace appear even more desolate and solemn. She turned away and did not look back, walking step by step into the inner chambers.
"His bond with Xuan Mo is that of brothers, and only that of brothers. Once a brother becomes a wife, that bond is lost."The vermilion lacquered gilt doors creaked open slowly, revealing an empty hall deep within the palace. Nalan stood with a straight back, gazing at the brilliant golden imperial court. In her sleeves, her fingers clenched one by one, then slowly unfurled, as if she had let go of something, yet also seemed to have acknowledged something.
What would telling him accomplish? He would not love you—he would only feel indebted.
Deep in her heart, she whispered to herself. So, admitting all this was such a simple matter after all.
What a brilliant and perceptive woman she was, with a mind full of intricate thoughts and a heart as clear as crystal. She had spent her entire life maneuvering in court politics, playing with people's hearts. She knew every way and technique to secure the greatest advantage for herself. The reason she did not speak, the reason she concealed it all, was simply because she clearly understood that even if she laid everything bare to the world, she would never win his glance or affection in this lifetime.
Rather than gaining a fraction of gratitude and a measure of guilt, only to still have to contend emotionally and mentally with the endless stream of women in the harem, it was better to release him—and herself—to find a path of survival.
She had long understood that some things in this world could not be forced. The human heart was the most powerful shackle under heaven, just as Xuan Mo was to her, and just as she was to Yan Xun. Once trapped within, there was no escape.
"Princess! To protect the surviving ministers of our Great Song, the most important thing is to bear a son. It has been five years—five years already!"
The palace doors slowly closed, cutting off Aunt Yun’s impassioned voice. Wen Yuan led the servants away, and once again, she was alone in the hall. Calmly, she walked to the small table, her hand resting on the gold-lacquered carved pillar as she slowly sat down. Quietly, she poured herself a drink. The liquid that flowed out was a dark medicinal broth. She did not mind the bitterness, drinking it sip by sip. The broth still steamed, swirling upward in tendrils. The orchid-carved patterns on the cup brushed against her fingertips, warm and smooth to the touch. It was like her fingers lightly touching his skin on their wedding night—scarred, cold, and forbidding.
"Only equals who share loyalty and understanding can be brothers, not a husband who possesses three thousand consorts but sets his heart elsewhere. I am the eldest princess of Huai Song. I am Nalan Hongye."
In the silence, a low voice slowly rose. She opened her eyes wide, two clear trails of tears streaming down.
The tears meandered down her pale, gaunt cheeks, following the curve of her chin before falling onto her wrist—cold, only two drops.
And so she sat, withered and still, throughout the entire night.
The next day, the wet nurse of the Great Yan Empress passed away. Yan Xun personally issued an edict, bestowing upon Aunt Yun the posthumous title of Second-Rank Kanglu Lady, granting her the funeral rites of a Third-Rank court official. Aunt Yun had never married and had no husband’s family, so her maternal clan was honored, showered with posthumous glory, gold, silver, and brocade, bringing honor to her descendants.
On the day of Aunt Yun’s funeral, Nalan stood on the corner tower of Zhenhuang City’s western gate, dressed in dark ceremonial robes adorned with phoenixes and wearing a purple-gold empress’s crown. She quietly watched the long, dragon-like funeral procession slowly leave Zhenhuang City, heading south.
In death, one returns to their homeland, like fallen leaves returning to their roots. Five years ago, Aunt Yun had followed Nalan, traveling thousands of miles from her homeland to this land of drifting snow. Now, her princess had grown up, no longer the child who would hide in her arms and weep. And she, too, had finally let go of everything and departed.That evening, snow began to fall once more across the sky. A maid draped a heavy fur cloak over her shoulders, yet she still felt cold. Her face was pale and gaunt, her figure emaciated as she stood alone atop the high tower, like a statue frozen in ice.
Her father was gone. Hong Yu was gone. Xuan Mo was gone. Aunt Yun was gone too.
At last, everyone in this world who had loved her was gone, leaving her alone, thousands of miles from her homeland. Perhaps for the rest of her life, she would never again see the warm, brilliant sun of her hometown or smell the faint saltiness of the sea breeze.
Tears welled up, yet her eyes remained dry. A sudden, sharp pain pierced her chest, and a metallic taste filled her throat. Something warm and wet trickled from the corner of her mouth, but she remained unaware, standing steadfast against the wind until the front of her white fur cloak was stained crimson, until Wen Yuan’s startled cry pierced her ears, until black crows flew across the distant sky. Only then did she collapse softly. In the vast, swirling snow, heaven and earth seemed to tilt and spin. She seemed to see Aunt Yun’s youthful face from years ago, gazing at her tenderly, softly calling her childhood name.
After Aunt Yun’s death, Nalan withered like a fading lily, declining day by day.
The weather grew colder, with harsh winds sweeping ruthlessly across the land. Physicians from the Imperial Hospital came and went over a dozen times each day, and precious medicines flowed like water into the Southeast Hall, yet there was no sign of improvement.
At noon that day, the heavy snow finally ceased. The sunlight outside was bright, and Wen Yuan had some young maids play in the snow in the courtyard. She helped Nalan to the corridor to sit, wrapped in a thick white marten cloak, reclining on a soft couch. The cheerful sounds filled the Southeast Hall, lifting the spirits of those within.
Suddenly, a faint murmur reached her ears. Nalan glanced sideways and saw Physicians Wang and Lu from the side hall whispering with their heads bowed, seemingly unaware of her presence. Their voices were slightly raised.
Physician Wang was a veteran official of Huai Song, now over seventy years old. His brow was deeply furrowed, and because of the distance, his words were not entirely clear. Only fragmented phrases reached her—something about exhausted vitality, a heart burdened with worries, depleted qi and blood, internal and external weakness, the lamp of life burning out, and medicine powerless to reverse fate...
“What are you two discussing?”
A sharp rebuke suddenly cut through the air. The two physicians looked up to see Wen Yuan standing at the doorway, her face anxious and furious as she glared at them. Nalan sat nearby, her expression serene, as if she had been listening for a long time.
Terrified, the two men dropped to their knees with a thud, hastily offering apologies.
Nalan, however, said nothing. She quietly turned her head and gazed silently at the maids playing in the courtyard. Neither joy nor sorrow touched her face, as if the words she had just heard had never reached her ears.
During dinner, Wen Yuan chatted cheerfully with her. Seeing that Nalan’s mood was relatively calm, she cautiously comforted her, urging her not to take the physicians’ words to heart. She even scolded the two men, calling them senile and unreliable.
Nalan listened with a faint smile. After taking her medicine, she retired early for the night.
The next day, a new group of physicians arrived at the Southeast Hall. Nalan offered no objection. She followed their instructions daily, quietly recuperating. Though her illness showed no improvement, it did not worsen either. The physicians were pleased, saying that if she could make it through the winter, her condition would take a turn for the better.The servants of the Southeast Hall were overjoyed, as the Palace Lantern Festival was approaching. Wen Yuan led the palace maids and eunuchs in decorating the hall anew, adorning it with vibrant red and green silk fabrics that made it resemble a folk wedding. Nalan understood their intentions but did not stop them, merely lying quietly in bed and speaking very little.
However, within a few days, the weather suddenly turned bitterly cold, with howling winds that froze water into ice. Nalan's illness worsened immediately.
At noon that day, as heavy snow raged outside the window, Nalan leaned against the couch, listening to the sounds outside, slightly lost in thought. She said quietly, "This year's Palace Lantern Festival probably won't be held."
Her voice was hoarse, carrying an unconcealed tone of decline. Wen Yuan wore a worried expression all day but dared not let it show. Hearing Nalan speak, she quickly smiled and replied, "With such strong winds, any lantern hung outside would be blown away immediately. It likely won't be held."
Nalan nodded. Wen Yuan continued, "Your Majesty should rest for a while. You just took medicine—is your mouth bitter? Would you like some sweet water?"
Nalan shook her head. Just as Wen Yuan was about to speak further, three crisp whip cracks sounded from outside. Her face lit up with joy, and she immediately stood up, exclaiming repeatedly, "Your Majesty, the Emperor has arrived."
With that, she led the servants out to welcome him.
Soon, the palace doors opened layer by layer, and heavy curtains were drawn aside. Yan Xun walked in wearing a dark golden robe, taking off his black fur coat as he entered and handing it to a maid nearby.
He looked just as always—dashing eyebrows, a straight nose, thin lips, and eyes like deep, unfathomable lakes. He sat opposite Nalan's bed, accepted a hot towel from Wen Yuan, first pressed it to his face, then wiped his hands before asking, "Is your illness any better?"
Nalan leaned against the couch, nodding gently, her face wearing its usual calm and serene smile. "Your Majesty is too concerned. I am much better now."
He nodded and continued, "Have you been taking the imperial physician's medicine on time?"
Nalan replied, "Yes, on time."
He pondered for a moment before asking again, "I remember you are very sensitive to the cold. With this severe weather, is the palace warm enough?"
A faint glimmer flashed in Nalan's eyes, but it vanished almost imperceptibly. She lifted her head, her cheeks now sharply thin, and said, "Your Majesty need not worry. Everything here is fine."
Then, the hall fell into silence, as tranquil as an autumn lake. The wind outside continued to howl intermittently. The two sat there, neither knowing how to break the awkward stalemate.
"Well then, the Empress should rest. I shall—"
"Has Your Majesty had lunch yet?"
An extremely clear voice suddenly rang out from the side. Both Nalan and Yan Xun were startled and looked up to see Wen Yuan. The young maid's lips were pale with fear, her hands clutching a handkerchief tightly in front of her, sweat beading on her forehead, and her arms trembling faintly beneath her sleeves.
Yan Xun glanced at Nalan in surprise, then turned his head. Instead of getting angry, he nodded and said, "No, I haven't."
"Then why doesn't Your Majesty dine in our hall? Our small kitchen is very skilled—Her Majesty enjoys the food here. Your Majesty has never eaten in our hall before."Yan Xun smiled and nodded, "Alright."
Wen Yuan couldn't conceal her delight, nearly becoming flustered as she hurriedly said, "Then this servant will go prepare."
With that, she scurried away in a flash.
Seeing her leave, Nalan said helplessly, "Your subject has failed in disciplining the servants. Please forgive me, Your Majesty."
But Yan Xun shook his head, "It's fine. She's very loyal."
How could Nalan not understand Wen Yuan's intention? She simply hoped Yan Xun would stay longer to keep her company. So Nalan said nothing more.
Yan Xun stood up and casually walked around the hall. He reached the bookshelf, randomly pulled out a book, flipped through it, then put it back before selecting another. Meanwhile, Nalan reclined on the daybed, carefully fiddling with an enamel clasp. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting checkered patterns on the floor. The afternoon sun was warm, and despite the howling winds outside, this chamber remained peaceful and serene.
"You're quite fond of merchant techniques?"
Yan Xun suddenly asked, holding a copy of "The Art of Commerce."
Nalan looked up and replied, "Your subject's ancestors started as merchants. Commerce is prosperous in Song territory, and Your subject enjoys studying it during leisure time."
Yan Xun smiled, "Quite unexpected."
"Unexpected how?"
Yan Xun shook his head, "Nothing. It's just that I know someone else who also enjoys this."
Nalan smiled, "It's Prince Xuan, isn't it?"
Yan Xun looked slightly surprised, "How did the Empress know?"
Nalan said naturally, "Of course Your subject knows. I've known Prince Xuan since childhood and understand him better than Your Majesty does."
Yan Xun chuckled softly, seemingly unconvinced but said nothing, turning back to continue browsing the books. Nalan, however, felt a secret sense of triumph, like a child who'd successfully played a prank. The corners of her mouth lifted as she lowered her head to continue playing with the clasp.
Time passed quietly. After years of marriage, this seemed to be the first time Yan Xun had seriously observed Nalan's bedchamber. He realized his Empress was quite extraordinary—not only did she have excellent taste, but her knowledge was extensive. Her collection covered numerous subjects, and most books showed signs of being read, unlike other palace consorts whose books served merely as decorations.
"Your Majesty, Your Highness, the meal is ready."
The food was quickly served. Since Nalan was taking medicine and needed dietary restrictions, her side had only four small dishes. In contrast, Yan Xun's side boasted over sixty dishes—cold, hot, meat, and vegetable—spread magnificently across the large table.
Yan Xun felt slightly embarrassed and couldn't help glancing at Nalan. But Nalan smiled, "Your Majesty rarely visits Your subject, so the servants don't know your preferences and had to prepare more. Please don't blame them—they're just trying to please you."
Had anyone else said this, it might have sounded like jealous sarcasm, but coming from Nalan, it didn't.
Wen Yuan stood nearby. Seeing Yan Xun say nothing and obediently begin eating, she was overjoyed, thinking to herself how wise she'd been today. Her lady hadn't had such good spirits in a long time. Truly, emotional ailments require emotional remedies. Perhaps if the Emperor visited more often, Her Highness's illness would improve.The meal was eaten slowly, and by the time it was finished, it was already time for the afternoon nap. Yan Xun and Nalan exchanged a few casual words, and by now, they had grown more at ease with each other. After instructing the servants to take good care of her, Yan Xun prepared to return to the palace. Just as he turned to leave, there was a sudden tearing sound—his sleeve had caught on the corner of the table, ripping a large hole in the fabric at the cuff.
Yan Xun raised his arm and glanced at it casually, not giving it much thought, and was about to put on his outer robe.
But Nalan said, "Your Majesty, your robe is torn."
Yan Xun, however, was indifferent and replied casually, "It doesn't matter."
"Wait a moment."
Nalan took hold of Yan Xun's sleeve and examined it carefully. "This is Tianci embroidery, a tribute fabric. The annual output from Tianci County is only enough to make a few robes. Your Majesty only had one court robe made from Tianci embroidery this year. Now that it's torn, even if it's taken to the imperial embroidery workshop, I'm afraid no one would dare to mend it."
Yan Xun had never imagined that a single robe could involve so many intricacies. He couldn't help but take a closer look at it and said, "If it's torn, it's torn. It doesn't matter."
But Nalan replied, "Your Majesty may not mind, but I do. Who knows how many embroiderers go blind each year just to produce this roll of fabric? Look, not only is this fabric double-sided embroidery, but if you examine the torn edge closely, you can even see tiny characters for 'blessing'."
Yan Xun looked closely and indeed saw it. He couldn't help but marvel, "It truly is exquisite."
"Wen Yuan, bring the needle and thread."
Yan Xun was taken aback and asked, "What does the Empress intend to do?"
"Since no one in the imperial embroidery workshop dares to mend it, and it's going to be discarded anyway, why not let me try? If I ruin it, Your Majesty must not blame me."
Yan Xun was even more astonished and asked, "The Empress knows needlework?"
Nalan raised the corners of her eyes slightly, her gaze shifting like rippling water as she glanced at him lightly. Taking the needle and thread, she began to mend the tear, saying as she worked, "Sit down. It'll be done in a moment."
For some reason, Yan Xun felt a little nervous. He sat down beside Nalan but seemed somewhat uneasy, as if he wanted to move away. Frowning, he said, "Don't prick me."
Nalan raised an eyebrow. "Someone who has been on the battlefield is afraid of a tiny embroidery needle?"
Yan Xun clearly distrusted her skills and frowned without saying a word. However, it soon became apparent that Nalan was extremely skilled at threading the needle and handling the thread. Her fingers were slender, and the needle and thread seemed to come alive in her hands.
She was so thin that, from Yan Xun's perspective, he could only see the elegant, pale curve of her neck. Sunlight spilled over her, carrying a sense of tranquility and peace. The air was filled with the faint scent of medicine, and the sand in the hourglass trickled down grain by grain. It was so quiet that one could almost hear the soft rustling of the needle and thread passing through the fabric.
Suddenly, Nalan's hand trembled, and she began to cough softly.
At first, she tried hard to suppress it, but gradually, she lost control, and the coughing grew louder. Yan Xun frowned and reached out with his other hand, gently patting her back as he called out, "Bring water, quickly!"
Wen Yuan hurried over. Yan Xun took the teacup and helped Nalan take a sip. Slowly, her breathing steadied, though her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes grew increasingly weary.
"Are you alright? Should I summon the imperial physician?"
Nalan shook her head weakly. "No need. It's an old ailment. I'll be fine after resting for a while.""Don't mend this clothing today. Wait until you're feeling better to work on it."
Nalan was indeed exhausted, so she nodded in agreement.
Yan Xun took off his outer robe and handed it to Wen Yuan, instructing, "Don't give this to your mistress until she's regained her strength. Don't bring it to her these next few days."
Wen Yuan nodded happily, thinking to herself: After five years, heaven has finally opened its eyes. His Majesty has finally learned to care for Her Highness.
Yan Xun put on his heavy fur coat and said to Nalan, "I shall take my leave now. Rest well."
Nalan nodded, and Yan Xun immediately turned to leave. The palace curtains were lifted layer by layer as he gradually disappeared from view step by step. For some reason, Nalan suddenly felt a deep unease, as if her heart had grown wild with weeds. She abruptly called out loudly, "Your Majesty?"
Yan Xun paused and turned to look back from afar.
The palace was vast and deep, and they were so far apart. They simply gazed at each other as time slipped between them—one year, two years, three years, five years, and those unknown to him, ten years, eight years, many, many years.
"Tonight, I have instructed the kitchen to prepare several fine dishes. Your Majesty, will you still come?"
Yan Xun stood in the center of the great hall, watching the woman seated on the bed from a distance.
She was his wife, the one he had never truly acknowledged, yet who had genuinely helped him in many practical ways.
He stood there, simply looking at her, trying hard to recall her former appearance in his mind. But all that came to mind were the dazzling jewels, brocades, and gold ornaments, leaving only a blank space. And now, she was clad in soft white robes, without a single hair ornament, wearing no makeup, her face pale and lips bluish, frail and emaciated like a candle flickering in the wind, uncertain how much longer it could burn.
Enough...
Yan Xun sighed silently in his heart.
Even though she had seized Xuan Mo's military authority, even though she might have detected his relationship with Xuan Mo and privately destroyed the letter Xuan Mo wrote to him before dying.
Enough.
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