Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Did they love me?

Probably.

They had spoiled me since I was little, held me like a treasure in their palms. They would clutch me to their chests, faces full of pain, and comfort me again and again. “There won’t be a next time. Your father is now Chief Minister, a powerful court official, and you still have your uncle, who oversees the palace defenses. Tomorrow, we’ll have him send men over. That old bastard will have to think twice before touching us again.”

So they had known. It turned out they had all known.

The dignity of great aristocratic clans, the supreme heights of power-beneath it all was filth and rot, festering and oozing pus.

They had sold me.

Fortunately, they had sold me for a very high price.

And just as Mother had said, Prince Liang truly never came again after that.

Song Youshu became pregnant.

When I heard the news, I had Cai Juan and Bao Li send over countless gifts and tonics.

After they returned, Cai Juan told me the Emperor had also been at Zhaohua Palace, but his expression had been rather grim, and Xiuyi Song had cried until her eyes were swollen.

From then on, something strange happened: Zhao Ling never again set foot in Zhaohua Palace.

In a complete departure from his usual behavior, he once stayed in Jiaofang Hall until very late.

I was already terribly sleepy, but I held back my yawns and reminded him, “It is late, Your Majesty. You still have morning court tomorrow.”

He glanced at me and said unhurriedly, “In the court hall, my seat is nothing more than an empty ornament. Even if I do not go, Prince Liang and the others will not say anything.”

So I forced myself to stay awake and play chess with him.

During the game, he asked me again, “Huang Gong of the Eastern Sea, the Yue shaman with the crimson blade, still died in the jaws of a tiger. Does the Empress find that a pity?”

I placed a stone and blurted out, “What is there to pity? His skills were simply inferior to the tiger’s.”

“Then why did you cry when we watched the play that day?”

The hall was brightly lit. Zhao Ling sat across from me. He was not looking at me; his gaze rested on the chessboard, the shadows of his raven-feather lashes falling beneath his eyes. His voice was casual, utterly unreadable.

I leaned closer to him and said with a beaming smile, “Because I was moved, of course.”

Our eyes met, and he arched a brow.

I said, “The Miscellaneous Records of the Western Capital says Huang Gong wore a red-gold blade, bound his hair with crimson silk, could summon clouds and mist while standing, and shape mountains and rivers while seated. But why did he insist on provoking that white tiger? That alone shows he was arrogant and conceited. The white tiger had been minding its own business and hadn’t done anything to him, yet he insisted on courting death. In the end, he was bitten to death. Every time I watch that scene, I find it immensely satisfying. I am so happy for the white tiger that I shed tears of emotion.”

“…The Empress’s interpretation is rather unlike anyone else’s.”

“Oh my. You noticed, Your Majesty? Then I shall take that as praise.”

For once, Zhao Ling laughed. Then he asked me, “Do you know how to drink?”

“No, but I can try.”

Zhao Ling immediately ordered Eunuch Su to fetch wine.

Before we could drink, a maid came from Zhaohua Palace, saying Xiuyi Song was weeping inconsolably, had smashed things all over the floor, and was crying out to see the Emperor.

Ever since she had entered the palace, Zhao Ling had treated her extremely well. The two of them were deeply attached to each other.

I had thought he would go see her.

In the end, he paid it no mind and only had someone send the maid back.

Later, when the night was deep and silent, he took my hand and climbed with me onto the glazed tiles of the side hall. We sat on the roof, drinking and talking.

I remember that day clearly. All was still, with only the faint sound of insects in the distance. The moon hung high in the vast sky, casting a layer of silver over everything around us.

The wind brushed past my ears and tousled my hair. I clung to Zhao Ling’s hand, terrified of heights, and screamed at the top of my lungs.