She was the one who had brought Cui Cheng to the Landscape Serenity Mirror. Even if she insisted it had been nothing more than a chance encounter, she could not avoid a round of punishment. It was not only her, either—Xingxiang, whom she had tricked into leaving, along with all the palace servants attending the Serene Realm, had been given beatings with the staff.
Gao Fuliang chose his words with care. “These are my own thoughts. If there’s anything amiss, Miss Shuilian can simply take them as passing advice.”
Shuilian replied in haste. “Please instruct me, Eunuch.”
He tilted his chin toward the direction of the sleeping chamber. “These past few days, the great nobles from the Western Regions have come to pay homage, accompanying Your Majesty on a hunt in the fields outside the city walls. Yet I noticed that Madam Lu has not once inquired after Your Majesty’s well-being. She…”
Gao Fuliang continued. “Miss, one must learn to think things through. If Madam Lu can do so, she will enjoy endless wealth and glory from here on. But if she cannot, then one day this punishment may fall upon her own head. You grew up together as her servant—think of her, and think of yourself.”
“If you find my words make sense, perhaps you might advise Madam Lu.” He smiled and gestured for Shuilian to go see her mistress.
Shuilian’s heart jolted. She offered her thanks and followed the young eunuch who was leading the way.
That day, Yirong had spat up a small mouthful of blood before collapsing in a faint. The sight had terrified Shuilian into a scream, drawing all the palace servants rushing inside.
The matter could not possibly be kept secret any longer, especially since so many guards had witnessed her leading a male servant into the chamber. The Emperor had ordered a thorough interrogation. At the memory, Shuilian could not help but shiver—she had been certain then that her life was at an end. She regretted it all deeply and had no idea what the Sixth Young Master might have said. She worried desperately for Yirong’s safety, and the pain in her own body had kept her awake through the nights.
She stepped inside and saw Yirong seated before the desk. Her mistress was poring over a book on ancient inscriptions, scribbling and sketching across a stack of fine rice paper, her expression one of serene focus.
“Miss.” Shuilian had meant to tell her about the caning, but at the sight of her like this, she faltered. Instead, she took care to walk without betraying any sign of her injuries.
“Shuilian!”
Yirong dropped her brush in delight and hurried forward two steps to seize her hand. She pulled Shuilian down to sit together on the soft couch, asking urgently, “Are you all right? Did His Majesty punish you?”
Every day, she had asked several times when Shuilian might come. The palace servants always replied that it would be soon, yet they could never give a clear answer.
“It was only a few days of confinement—nothing serious.” Shuilian smiled. “Miss, do you know where His Majesty has gone?”
Yirong recalled that, three nights prior, the Emperor had mentioned heading out of the city for a hunt. She was somewhat surprised that he would go hunting in this weather, but then she considered that the forests might not be so hot after all. The Emperor had instructed her to rest well and had left Gao Fuliang at her command.
“I know. His Majesty is hunting outside the city. Why do you ask?”
Shuilian smiled. “This servant was wondering what your plans might be from now on.”
She had lowered her voice as she spoke. Yirong glanced at the two maids standing in the corner and whispered in reply, “I want to go home.”
Her voice was very soft, yet utterly firm.
She wanted to return to Yue Prefecture.
In the year she turned fourteen, her mother had claimed they were returning to the Capital City, though by then she was often lost in delirium. All the arrangements for the months-long journey had been discussed between Yirong and Song Mama, her mother’s trusted servant.
Obtaining a travel permit was simple enough with sufficient silver. She still remembered the waterway they had taken vividly; the return journey would likely be the same.
The hardest part would be reaching the Secret Door… Yirong pondered for a moment before saying, “Shuilian, go and rest.”
Her face was exceedingly pale.
Yirong leaned her head against Shuilian’s shoulder and murmured softly, “His Majesty truly did not punish you?”
Shuilian shook her head.
She examined Shuilian closely. Apart from a pallor to her complexion, she seemed no different from usual.
Suddenly, something occurred to Shuilian. “Miss, those things you had this servant prepare—we probably won’t need them after all! In the moment, I didn’t think to bring them.”
“It doesn’t matter. As long as you’re safe.” Yirong clasped Shuilian’s hand and gave it a comforting pat.
She asked again, “And the others?”
Shuilian glanced cautiously at the palace maids with her peripheral vision and murmured, “This servant heard that the Sixth Young Master has severed ties with Duke Qiao. No one knows where he has gone.”
Yirong started in surprise. The image of her final meeting with Cui Cheng flashed through her mind once more. Then she said to Shuilian, “Go and rest now.”
She smiled at the two palace maids. With the Emperor away these past few days and no eunuchs hovering nearby, these two had kept near-constant company, watching over her. Yirong was not a harsh mistress, and she could sense the respect that Zhu Jin and Dan Liu held for her, their willingness to serve.
Yet they seemed to be acting on orders from Eunuch Gao. Anything she desired was fetched for her with utmost speed, but when it came to going outside, that was utterly forbidden.
Not long before, Yirong had expressed a wish to go out and admire the flowers. Zhu Jin had sent for a number of peony planters from the flower house, along with lotus blooms raised in water jars, for her viewing pleasure. But they would not accompany her outdoors. When she pressed further, the two had knelt to block her path.
Through the large screen, she could vaguely make out numerous palace servants standing guard at the hall doors.
To leave Central Harmony Hall smoothly and reach the Secret Door on the western side of the Imperial Retreat Palace would likely require the Emperor’s permission alone.
Having made up her mind, Yirong called out to Zhu Jin and Dan Liu with a bright smile, inviting them to play cards together.
That night, as she lay on her back upon the bed, she heard the faint rustle of the two night-watch maids’ silk garments brushing the floor nearby. Through the layers of fine gauze bed curtains, she sensed the moonlight falling like scattered frost.
In these few days without the Emperor, she felt rather at ease—as long as she did not dwell on whether Shuilian was safe or what she ought to do next.
As for the Cui Family… all those foolish pangs of guilt from the past had vanished like smoke after her confrontation with Empress Dowager Cui. Knowing that Cui Cheng had not been captured—at least for now, his life was out of danger—had allowed her to breathe easy at last.
She only hoped that the younger girls of the Cui Family would remain ignorant of the sordid details. Everything else no longer mattered.
Yirong buried her face in the soft pillow and narrowed her eyes. It was a pity that the Emperor would always return.
Just like this bed—though the maids diligently changed the linens, she could still detect the faint scent of him lingering there. It was not unpleasant: a clean aroma mingled with notes of ambergris…
She had even suggested sleeping elsewhere, but Zhu Jin and Dan Liu could not make that decision on their own. Unwilling to trouble them, Yirong had let the matter drop.
With these thoughts drifting through her mind, she fell asleep.
In the depths of sound sleep, she vaguely felt a large hand, slightly damp, settle on her waist. It gradually slid upward, caressing her. Yirong startled awake but, fortunately, remembered at once who lay beside her. After a instinctive soft gasp, she fell silent.
“You’re awake.”
The Emperor’s voice sounded directly above her head. In the profound quiet of the night, it rang out with unusual clarity—the two night-watch maids were certain to hear.
Though everyone in this hall knew the nature of her relationship with the Emperor, Yirong still felt an instinctive shame. She shrank back, but his scorching hand remained firmly against her skin, while his other arm encircled her waist. She whispered, “How have you returned?”
In order to hear her clearly, the Emperor drew his head closer still. Their warm breaths mingled together.
The Emperor let out a soft chuckle. “Zhen has met with them for three days—that gives them sufficient face. After this, Zheng Lv can accompany them.”
She asked, puzzled, “Who is Zheng Lv?”
The Emperor paused in his movements and slowly withdrew. He lifted her chin with one hand and murmured low, “You know Zhen’s name, but not Prince Ning’s?”
Yirong trembled lightly and replied slowly, “I have heard it. I simply did not recall that it was Prince Ning.”
Her cheeks flushed deep crimson, as if she had drunk herself merry. Even in the dimness of the bed curtains, it was plain to see. The Emperor held her close and whispered in her ear, “Does your body still ache? Do you want to go hunting?”
The chance to leave the palace filled Yirong with joy, and she was on the verge of agreeing—until sudden realization struck.
Whenever the Emperor traveled, he was surrounded by a vast retinue of palace servants and Imperial Guards. Forget escaping; it would be impossible even to slip from under his watchful eye.
Yirong said, “My thanks for Your Majesty’s kind intentions, but I fear being seen by others. Besides, I do not know how to ride. Better to forgo it.”
“No matter. Zhen will teach you.”
Yirong’s eyes turned thoughtfully. In a soft voice, she said, “Then wait until we return to the Capital City. Your Majesty can teach me then.”
He had once said that, upon returning to the Capital City, he would formally bring her into the palace.
The shy expression on her face was utterly captivating.
Over these few days of rest, it seemed she had truly come around.
In a daze, he felt as though they were an old married couple, lying head to head in intimate conversation. In truth, ever since late spring, they had known each other for quite some time.
A pang of regret struck him suddenly—he felt he had wasted far too much time.
The fragrant warmth of her breath brushed against his cheek and lips. Zheng Yan tightened his arm around her and rasped, “Are you better now?”