Chapter 40: C40. Five Hearts, One Meng, Four Li.

Chapter 40

When Yunzhu woke the next morning, golden sunlight flooded the room, cutting through the sheer curtains with lazy brilliance.

Her body, however, betrayed her. The moment she tried to move, a deep, bruising ache shot through her waist, as though she'd been pinned beneath a galloping carriage all night. Wincing, she gave up the fight and sank back into the bed, her breathing shallow and deliberate.

Parched, she reached for the bell and rang it with a sharp flick of her wrist. The steady thud of boots sounded from the hallway—strong, deliberate, and oh-so-familiar.

She gritted her teeth, every movement sparking a dull pain across her frame. The bandage wrapped around her head shifted slightly, the faint rustle fraying her nerves. With a hiss of frustration, she squeezed her eyes shut, biting back a curse.

Moments later, the curtain parted, and there he was. Cao Xun, towering and composed, his sharp gaze immediately zeroing in on her. Her furrowed brows and parted, reddened lips seemed to amuse him. His voice, smooth and self-assured, sliced through the quiet. "Awake already?"

"Water," she muttered dryly, her voice clipped.

Without missing a beat, he turned on his heel. When he returned, bowl in hand, Yunzhu was still sprawled across the bed, unmoving. He didn’t hesitate—Cao Xun set the porcelain bowl aside, leaned down, and slid a strong arm under her neck, lifting her effortlessly.

Her body tensed as her back left the mattress. A sharp pang lanced through her, and she glared daggers at him. He met her glare with a soft chuckle. "Drink this first," he said, bringing the cool rim of the bowl to her lips, "and later, I’ll massage that temper out of you."

She drained the bowl in defiance, her throat swallowing greedily. He set her down gently, and she melted back into the bed, unwilling to move even an inch. The sunlight caught her pale, flawless skin beneath her thin silk top, the fabric clinging just enough to reveal the curve of her collarbone.

Cao Xun climbed onto the bed beside her, his hands finding her delicate shoulders. His touch was firm, steady—unyielding yet practiced. Yunzhu buried her face in the pillow, the warmth of his palms a maddening mix of pain and relief.

"Aren’t you supposed to be with the Emperor today?" she murmured, her voice muffled and edged with suspicion.

"The Emperor values solitude occasionally," Cao Xun replied, his tone light. "He’s given me two days."

His hand drifted lower, brushing the curve of her waist. Yunzhu stiffened instantly. Her body betrayed her resolve as a shiver coursed through her. But his touch was merciful—just enough to ease her fatigue, no more.

Still, her patience was razor-thin. "If you dare to pull this nonsense again," she hissed, her words sharp despite the softness of her voice, "I’ll pack my things and go back to my parents’ house."

His laugh was rich, teasing, his broad shoulders shaking slightly as he pressed his thumbs into a knot along her spine. "You’ve been saying that since the wedding," he said smoothly, "but here you are."

Her lips pressed into a pout, but she couldn’t summon the energy to retort.

Cao Xun leaned closer, his voice dropping to a velvet whisper. "Two months married, and I’m still insatiable. Do you know what that means?"

She didn’t respond, but he didn’t need her to. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "It means you’re as exquisite as you were the day we wed. That should make you proud, no?"

Her silence tempted him.

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing her ear. "Unless, of course, you’d rather hear compliments from someone else instead of me."

Yunzhu bit back the retort rising in her throat.

Did he always have to win?

She stayed silent, her defiance simmering beneath the surface.

This incident made Yunzhu see things clearly. Cao Xun might have been gracious about her past with Cao Shao—even stepping in when Cao Shao had the audacity to reject her—but his tolerance had its limits. He wasn’t a man to let things slide if she kept entertaining Cao Shao’s lingering affections.

As her husband, he had every right to be upset. She understood that much, but understanding didn’t mean compliance. A flicker of rebellion still burned within her.

“If you’re too afraid to confront him, then why come at me? He’s the one who started it,” she shot back, her tone laced with bitter defiance.

Cao Xun smiled faintly, the calm before the storm. “Because I know it’s hard for him to forget you so quickly. And, to his credit, he hasn’t done anything too outrageous—at least not openly.”

Yunzhu’s voice dropped, soft and sharp all at once. “I wasn’t flaunting anything. I was just enjoying it privately. No one noticed—except you, with your hawk’s eyes.”

Cao Xun didn’t flinch. “And do you think that makes it right? To revel in another man’s attention, knowing full well you’re already mine? Even before we married, I never let compliments from a beautiful woman inflate my ego.”

Her lips curled into a subtle, challenging smile. “You say that, but who really knows what’s in your heart? Maybe you’re just better at hiding it than I am.”

His gaze bore into hers, steady and unyielding. “You’re projecting, Yunzhu. Using a villain’s heart to measure a gentleman’s.”

The words struck her like a sharp tug on her pride. Her defiance faltered, leaving her knees weak as she straightened up, her eyes alight with anger and something else entirely. “If I’m such a villain, then why do you even care about me?”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a velvet edge. “Because I’m older, wiser, and more patient than you. I won’t lose my temper easily—not with you.”

Her cheeks flushed, anger bubbling to the surface again. “Is that so? Last night, you didn’t seem so patient. Don’t act like you weren’t punishing me.”

A sly smirk tugged at his lips. “Oh, I’ll punish you, alright—until I’m utterly intoxicated by it.”

Before he could finish the thought, Yunzhu darted toward him, her hand slapping over his mouth, her face burning crimson. “Stop talking, you shameless man!”

Cao Xun chuckled, pulling her into his arms like she belonged there. His hand brushed over her hair with disarming tenderness. “It’s late. Let’s eat first. You’ll need your strength for later.”

*

Nanyuan bursts with breathtaking vistas and an abundance of tantalizing attractions begging to be explored.

As breakfast wound down, Cao Xun leaned in with a bold proposition: “How about a horse race across the grasslands?” His voice carried a teasing edge, his intent clear.

Yunzhu shot him a piercing glare, her lips curling in sly defiance as her foot snaked beneath the table to deliver a sharp, deliberate kick.

Unbothered but remembering her fascination from the night before, Cao Xun pivoted smoothly, his tone shifting. “Or perhaps,” he offered, “a lazy afternoon fishing by the lake... or a visit to the zoo?”

The palace and the official quarters lay closest to these destinations, while venturing farther demanded horseback travel—a detail he left hanging between them.

Yunzhu’s eyes gleamed with a flicker of desire. Her fondness for the vibrant peacocks at the zoo won out, and she opted for the latter with an almost careless air of command.

With Cao Xun at her side, Yunzhu didn’t bother bringing attendants. Instead, everything they might need—umbrellas, towels, water bags—was strapped to his frame. A human pack mule, but he carried it with a smirk of confidence.

Together, they sauntered out of the courtyard. As they passed officials and their families, curious stares lingered on Cao Xun, laden as he was, but his demeanor was unbothered, almost teasing, exuding an easy charm.

Yunzhu, however, couldn’t shake the sharp edge of the onlookers’ gazes—the subtle ridicule, the envious whispers. It prickled at her for only a moment before fading into irrelevance as they arrived at the zoo.

The Rare Animal Park stretched vast and wild, its landscape an intricate blend of mountain and water, designed to mirror the natural habitats of its exotic residents. Wandering its winding stone paths could easily steal half a day.

With trees shading their way, Cao Xun’s umbrella stayed tucked, unused. The expansive garden scattered visitors so widely that the air seemed serene, almost secluded. Even spotting another soul required a hike across the grounds.

They paused by a pond where swans glided like white shadows across its surface. Yunzhu stepped closer, her voice low yet curious. “A eunuch once told me swans can fly as high as geese. Is that true?”

Cao Xun’s voice was rich, almost indulgent. “It is. I’ve seen it myself on the grasslands.”

Her brows lifted in surprise. “Swans on the grasslands? Truly?”

He chuckled, his words rolling smooth and steady as he painted vivid pictures of the creatures roaming those wide-open expanses: yellow sheep, sleek red foxes, majestic red-crowned cranes.

Yunzhu’s gaze lingered on him, something soft yet sharp in her eyes. “You’re remarkable,” she murmured, a teasing lilt in her tone. “Far more knowledgeable than any eunuch here.”

Cao Xun said nothing, but his silence was charged, daring her to continue.

Yunzhu, not one to back down, tilted her head and smirked. “I didn’t mean you look like one.”

How could a man as commanding, as undeniably masculine as him ever be mistaken for that?

The tension finally simmered into a comfortable quiet. Words no longer necessary, the moment spoke for itself.

As they approached the Peacock Garden, the Crown Prince’s voice cut through the air with a sharpness that demanded attention. “Li Xian,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery, “so you have a penchant for watching peacocks?”

Yunzhu slowed her stride, letting Cao Xun fall into step beside her, their movements synchronized like a dance of shadows. She paused just short of the garden, slipping behind a thick bush to steal an unobstructed view of the unfolding drama.

Standing solitary before the garden's vibrant backdrop, Li Xian inclined his head respectfully toward the Crown Prince, his poised frame stark against the presence of the attendants hovering nearby. He was wrapped in a bamboo-green brocade robe that accentuated the quiet elegance of his fourteen years. Towering over the Crown Prince by half a head, Li Xian held himself with an air of unshakable composure. Though his posture whispered deference, his statuesque presence spoke volumes, effortlessly commanding attention and rivaling the regal aura of the prince himself.

The Crown Prince, however, loathed that about him. Li Xian’s icy demeanor, his unwillingness to bow in spirit as much as in action, pricked at the prince's pride. The Crown Prince thrived on obedience—absolute, unquestioning, and servile. He longed for his companions to behave like the maids and eunuchs who catered to his whims, yet here stood Li Xian, a constant thorn in his side.

Even as irritation simmered beneath the Crown Prince’s polished exterior, he chose not to dismiss Li Xian outright. Instead, he regarded him with a deliberate, disdainful air, as though toying with a pawn that refused to fall into place.

Hidden from sight, Yunzhu’s lips curled into a knowing smile. Her gaze shifted to the four young men gathered behind the Crown Prince, their expressions a kaleidoscope of tension, amusement, and indifference. Nudging Cao Xun, she murmured in a voice low and rich, “The one in the brown robe… is that Zhang Hu? The Marquis of Huai’an’s prized son? His face reminds me of Zhang Xingjian.”

Cao Xun inclined his head slightly, confirming her suspicion.

Zhang Hu, just twelve and already keenly observant, stood rigid by the prince’s side. Though his sharp eyes darted uneasily to Li Xian, his instincts urged him to stay silent. The Crown Prince’s volatile temper had taught him well. The others, a trio of boys still wet behind the ears, wore their emotions plainly—one indifferent, another tense, and the last reveling in the quiet schadenfreude of a brewing storm.

Boys they were, playing at power, their loyalties tied to the whims of a temperamental master.

At last, the Crown Prince seemed to grow bored of the standoff. With a lazy wave of his hand, he dismissed the shallow formalities of Li Xian’s greeting.

Straightening, Li Xian lowered his gaze, his features betraying nothing. Yet, beneath that composed exterior, the tension simmered.

The Crown Prince, momentarily lost in thought, allowed a smirk to curve his lips. His mind wandered to Li Xian’s family—his newly reinstated father, Li Yong, and, more tantalizingly, his stunningly beautiful aunt. Leaning forward ever so slightly, his tone shifted, silky yet sly. “Li Xian,” he purred, “do you still dream of resuming your role as my companion? If so, I could have my father arrange it.”

Li Xian’s gaze didn’t waver as he clasped his hands and spoke, his tone steady yet sharp: “Your Highness once deemed me unworthy to serve as a companion in the East Palace, even going so far as to petition the Emperor to have me removed. Now, should you wish to reinstate me, I humbly ask—what faults did I commit before? Point them out so I can correct them.”

The Crown Prince’s eyes widened in disbelief, his voice dripping with disdain. “Are you here to settle scores with me?”

Li Xian’s response came smooth as silk but carried a sharp edge. “I wouldn’t dare presume such intentions, Your Highness. I only seek your guidance. Without it, even if I were to return, I fear I’d only repeat my past mistakes.”

The Crown Prince sneered, his interest evaporating in an instant. “How considerate of you to remind me of your flaws. Forget what I said earlier—you’re better suited for admiring the peacock.” With a dismissive wave, he strode off, his entourage trailing behind.

As the entourage disappeared, Li Xian lingered, his expression cool, unreadable. His eyes lingered on the vivid plumage of the peacock, its emerald feathers gleaming under the sun. There was no trace of anger or regret on his finely chiseled features, only a calm indifference that seemed to shield him from the world’s petty cruelties.

Yunzhu, watching from afar, clenched her fists. Her heart ached at the injustice her brother endured—the Crown Prince’s scorn was just the latest blow, following the disgrace of being expelled from the East Palace for no greater sin than their family’s heritage. She made to approach him, but Cao Xun’s hand caught her wrist, halting her in her tracks.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, bewildered by his intervention.

Cao Xun’s lips curled into a sly smile as he gestured subtly toward Li Xian. “You shouldn’t go. This matter means little to Brother Xian. If anything, he’s more worried about you getting upset on his behalf.”

Yunzhu’s eyes flared with indignation. “It’s me who’s upset—weren’t you watching?”

Cao Xun chuckled lightly. “Then tell me this: do you want to console Brother Xian, or are you hoping he’ll end up consoling you?”

His words stopped her cold. She turned her eyes to her brother once more and saw him smiling faintly, watching the peacock spread its magnificent tail in the sunlight. That smile—it was as if the Crown Prince’s cruelty hadn’t even grazed him. He stood there, utterly unbothered, as if the insult was beneath him.

Cao Xun leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. “If you go now and bring it up, all you’ll do is remind him of something he’s already dismissed. Don’t burden him with your emotions.”

Yunzhu let out a reluctant sigh, realizing he was right. Silently, she turned away and followed Cao Xun. As they walked, she muttered, “Fine. I won’t meddle, but I’m still his sister. He might not need my comfort, but he’ll always appreciate knowing I care.”

Cao Xun glanced at her, his smirk softening into something gentler. “And that’s what makes you remarkable—always so considerate. Your brother is lucky to have you.”

Yunzhu didn’t respond, but her mind lingered on his words. She wasn’t like other sisters, her heart divided between many. No, her affections were undivided, focused solely on those she held dearest: one named Meng, and four named Li.

*

Emperor Yuan Qing lounged in decadent ease, lazily swaying a peacock feather fan, its shimmering hues catching the light as he eyed the playful chaos of the five sleek felines sprawled before him. News of the fiasco at the imperial zoo had slithered into his ears, slicing through his amusement with the sharp edge of disappointment.

The cats, draped in plush fur that rivaled the richness of courtly robes, stirred at the sudden tension in the air. Their gazes snapped to him, jewel-like eyes—emerald, amber, sapphire—locked on the hypnotic tease of the plume dancing in his elegant grip.

Yuan Qing's gaze lingered on them, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips as their adoration radiated back at him, pure and untainted. A sigh, heavy with the bitterness of unmet desires, slipped past his lips.

For all his power, for all his lovers and concubines, the emperor’s craving for an heir—one as instinctively loyal, affectionate, and uncomplicated as these creatures—remained just that: a craving. The weight of dynastic duty and courtly treachery turned the simple desire into an impossible dream.

If only fatherhood was as simple as taming a cat.