Chapter 75: C75. Blooming into Adulthood at Twenty.

Chapter 75

The harsh winter winds had roared for days, biting through bone and sinew, but as the New Year approached, they finally relented. The sky now stretched wide and clear, the sun a bright, unflinching witness, and a soft breeze whispered its way through the cool evening air.

Two carriages belonging to Duke Dingguo moved unhurriedly toward the imperial city, their presence steady and commanding.

Cao Shao rode behind them on horseback, his gaze flickering between his older brother’s calm, regal demeanor and the carriage that followed. His stomach twisted with guilt—raw and sharp, gnawing at him like a bad secret.

He rarely let it slip, that Yunzhu still haunted him. He kept his yearning carefully hidden from his brother, from their mother—buried beneath layers of composure. But tonight, he'd faltered. His mask had cracked, and for a fleeting second, he'd nearly stumbled like a lovesick fool fresh from adolescence.

He could see her still—etched onto the walls of his mind in vivid, painstaking detail. Yunzhu in red, sleeves billowing like silk banners caught in a storm, radiant and untouchable. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was searing. Like the soft, seductive glow of a pearl chest cracked open in the dark or a full moon rising slow and stately into the Mid-Autumn sky.

He’d once overheard the slurred whispers of drunken young men at a banquet. They’d prattled about how girls of fifteen or sixteen were fragile blooms, all sweetness and charm—the pinnacle of allure. But marriage, they scoffed, wore beauty down. Women faded. Diminished. They became commonplace shadows of themselves while newer faces stole the light.

Yunzhu turned twenty tonight. And yet, those words—crass and shortsighted—had never applied to her. Yunzhu wasn’t some delicate petal wilting with time. She commanded time. She wasn’t a girl at all; she was a force—undeniable, unrelenting, breathtaking in ways no innocent fifteen-year-old could ever dream to be.

If he’d met her as she was now—this sharp, dazzling woman—he wasn’t sure he’d have dared to reach for her at all. He might’ve hesitated, caught between awe and his own trembling restraint, despite his reputation for brilliance and noble standing.

Some women were beautiful but fragile, doomed to be mistreated or discarded. Yunzhu was something else entirely. Her beauty wasn’t a curse; it was a weapon. She wielded it with a tilt of her head, a look in her eyes—those dark, knowing eyes that reduced men to puppets she pulled effortlessly by their strings.

And yet, for all his clarity, Cao Shao knew the bitter truth: Yunzhu had likely never cared for him. Not really. She’d indulged him once—given him just enough to snare him and leave him restless, aching for more. He should’ve walked away long ago, spared himself this quiet torment. But he hadn’t. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

If fate threw open that door again, if even the slightest chance presented itself, he’d take it. Boldly. Greedily. He’d seize her with both hands and refuse to let her go.

But fate, he knew, wasn’t so generous. Yunzhu was now his sister-in-law, and opportunity would not come knocking twice. The thought gnawed at him—hot and relentless—leaving him no peace.

And yet, even knowing all of that, the memory of her refused to loosen its grip.

*

As Yunzhu and her entourage sauntered into the heart of the imperial city, their steps echoed seductively along the vast, gilded palace road that led to Qianqing Palace.

Awaiting them in regal presence were Emperor Qianxing, the formidable Empress Dowager Cao, and the ever-elegant Concubine Xian and Concubine Hui—mothers to the eldest prince, An Wang, and Princess Yi'an, respectively. Those less fortunate concubines, childless and insignificant in the imperial hierarchy, were conspicuously absent from tonight’s exclusive banquet.

Empress Dowager Cao exchanged hushed words with Concubine Xian and Concubine Hui, their voices a low murmur of plotting and pleasantries, while Emperor Qianxing busied himself with Princess Yi'an’s studies—though “busy” may have been too generous a term. Despite being only two years her elder, the emperor's whims were often under his mother’s thumb; yet tonight, the young ruler indulged himself. Each time Princess Yi'an stumbled or misspoke, he seized the chance to stick a note onto her face with mischievous delight.

The little princess tolerated his antics with reluctant obedience, her disdain for her brother tempered by necessity. She and her mother relied on his favor, after all, and so she endured—her pride pricked but her mask firmly intact.

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty! The uncles and grandmother have arrived!” came the crisp announcement.

The emperor, mid-tease, shifted his sharp attention toward the grand entrance. Empress Dowager Cao rose with practiced grace, her voice warm and commanding as she ushered the newcomers inside.

Princess Yi’an, seizing her moment like a predator in the dark, snatched the offending note from her face and smoothed her expression just as Yunzhu entered, leading the group. She was accompanied by Cao Xun and Cao Shao—one her proper husband, the other her childhood shadow. They followed behind Pan Shi, stepping into the grand hall like a breeze laced with allure and whispered promise.

And just like that, Emperor Qianxing’s gaze was caught—no, seized—by Yunzhu. The aunt he had always found beautiful was, tonight, devastating. Her presence was a fire in the room, all quiet elegance and effortless seduction. For a moment too long, his eyes lingered on her, tracing the soft lines of her face, the sway of her figure beneath her silken garments. But when Yunzhu and her party bowed in respect, the young emperor forced himself to look away, tearing his attention back to the more proper figures of her two male companions.

His smile was measured, his voice smooth as he spoke: “Grandmother, uncles, and aunt—my apologies. Tonight, the banquet is meant for family alone.”

Yunzhu rose with poise, her lowered gaze the very image of deference and restraint. Yet, beneath her quiet grace, there was something—an edge of power, an unspoken command that rippled beneath her every move.

The Empress Dowager’s voice broke through, smooth as silk. “Mother, sister-in-law, there’s no need to burden yourselves with those heavy Zhai crowns. You must feel as though you’re bearing the weight of the heavens.”

At her word, two palace maids, their smiles painted with trained cheer, approached and carefully relieved the elder women of their ornate, ceremonial burdens. The removal was deliberate, symbolic—a peeling back of pretense for the evening’s more intimate gathering.

Yunzhu followed Pan Shi’s lead and moved to take her seat with quiet precision, the sweep of her robes gliding across the polished floor as though the world itself bowed to her. Across the room, Princess Yi’an gravitated toward her mother, Concubine Hui, though her wide eyes remained fixed on Yunzhu with unguarded reverence. The little girl’s admiration was as clear as the blush that now crept across her cheeks when Yunzhu, catching the stare, graced her with the faintest of smiles.

The banquet was a modest affair, intimate and undivided. Female voices rose and fell with bright chatter while the emperor found himself confined to more tedious discussions with his uncles about matters of hearth and home. It was, in truth, a woman’s night—one filled with delicate glances, unseen undercurrents, and the unspoken games of power and intrigue that were far sharper than the emperor’s naïve teasing.

And when the banquet concluded, the night spilled into the palace gardens, where the sky itself became the stage. A cascade of fireworks erupted, brilliant and fleeting—a display of splendor and fire that seemed, in its own way, a reflection of Yunzhu herself.

By now, Princess Yi’an and Yunzhu had grown remarkably close, the princess practically glowing as she led Yunzhu by the hand toward the guardrail to admire the evening’s spectacle. Behind them, Empress Dowager Cao, Pan Shi, and the other nobles maintained their regal facades, too poised and dignified to move from their seats. Close by, Cao Xun and Cao Shao sat with composed stillness, content to blend into the background.

But the Emperor Qianxing—young, restless, and brimming with energy—wasn’t one to sit idle. With an eagerness that betrayed his age, he joined them at the rail, situating himself on Yunzhu’s right, while Princess Yi’an clung gently to her left.

The moment she noticed him, Yunzhu dropped to her knees in a fluid, graceful bow, her voice silken yet formal. “Your Majesty.”

The young emperor’s smile was bright and unmistakably pleased. “Auntie, what a delight it is to see you tonight. Do the fireworks meet your expectations?”

Yunzhu’s eyes drifted to the palace fireworks exploding against the velvety night sky. Her voice carried warmth, a subtle lilt that lingered in the air. “The palace never disappoints. The fireworks are… breathtaking.”

But as dazzling as the pyrotechnics were, Emperor Qianxing could only see her. The glow of lanterns and the flickering firelight framed Yunzhu in a way that made even the sky’s fleeting brilliance pale in comparison. His aunt was a vision—ethereal, radiant, impossible to ignore. Though dignitaries and courtiers surrounded him, Qianxing’s gaze kept returning to her, lingering in ways no emperor’s gaze should.

Eager to prolong their moment together, he spoke up again, his tone just casual enough to mask his true intent. “Auntie, has there been word of Brother Li’s return to the capital? Will he make it back in time for the Lantern Festival?”

Yunzhu tilted her head ever so slightly, her lips curling into the faintest, most knowing smile. Her dark eyes squinted playfully at him, the effect both sharp and alluring. “Mmm… it remains to be seen. The Lantern Festival waits for no man.”

The young emperor’s expression flickered—he clearly didn’t relish the mention of Li Yao. Seizing the chance to win points with his captivating aunt, he forced a gracious tone. “Heir Li has been commendable in handling the banditry near Fuzhou. Once he returns, I plan to reward him handsomely.”

“Oh?” Yunzhu’s voice dripped with quiet intrigue, her words smooth yet edged. “Is that so? I confess I thought Your Majesty had little fondness for him—sending my brother so far away to wrestle with petty bandits.”

Emperor Qianxing, though young, was quick on his feet. He didn’t flinch under her teasing provocation. “You misunderstand me, Auntie. Fuzhou has long struggled under lawlessness, and I entrusted Heir Li because I knew he wouldn’t fail me. He’s proven my faith well placed.”

Yunzhu said nothing for a beat, though her gaze turned toward Princess Yi’an. Her slender fingers reached out, feather-light, to smooth the younger girl’s hair. “My dear princess, aren’t you cold? Should I send someone for a cloak?”

Princess Yi’an shook her head with obedient sweetness. “I’m not cold at all, Auntie. But what about you?”

Yunzhu, layered in fabrics of silk and finery, let out a soft laugh that seemed to roll over them like velvet. “Me? I’m perfectly warm.”

After a pause, she let her dark, sultry gaze slide back to the emperor, pinning him with a look that wasn’t unkind but certainly wasn’t without weight. “If Your Majesty says so, then I’ll believe you. But… don’t think for a second you can deceive me.”

The admonition, though gentle, hit its mark. Emperor Qianxing straightened reflexively, rushing to reassure her. “You have my word, Auntie. Heir Li will be rewarded upon his return, you needn’t doubt it.”

Satisfied—or perhaps merely entertained—Yunzhu let the corner of her lips curve into a graceful smile, her fingers lifting to touch her slender throat in a way that drew the eye. “Well, I am parched,” she said smoothly, her voice low and honeyed. “You and the princess enjoy the fireworks. I’ll return to the table for some tea.”

With that, Yunzhu turned, her movements unhurried, every step an exercise in poised elegance. She left behind the two children—one young and spellbound, the other completely at her mercy—and strolled back toward the table.

Every eye in the pavilion trailed her—Empress Dowager Cao, Pan Shi, Cao Xun, and the rest of the nobility couldn’t resist watching her every move. Yet Yunzhu never faltered. She slid back into her seat with the grace of someone who knew exactly the effect she left in her wake, settling beneath Pan Shi as though nothing at all had happened.

Before the guardrail, Emperor Qianxing, with a devil-may-care grin, swaggered up to Princess Yi'an. He pointed towards a burst of fireworks, now blazing in the night sky, and coaxed her into admiring the spectacle with an innocent yet teasing charm that could melt anyone's heart.

Watching this playful exchange, Empress Dowager Cao and Pan Shi couldn't help but feel a sense of relief—things were as they should be.

Yunzhu, holding her tea with a lazy grace, threw a casual, almost imperceptible glance at Cao Xun.

In his mid-thirties, Cao Xun had that perfect mix of rugged handsomeness and effortless elegance that drew eyes without him even trying. His attention was fixed on the dazzling fireworks, but when his gaze met hers, it was as though a different kind of spark ignited between them. A rush of heat, intense and electric.

Meanwhile, beside him, Cao Shao’s throat bobbed nervously, acutely aware of Yunzhu's lingering look.

*

The fireworks had faded into the night, and as Yunzhu and her companions left the palace, a sharp chill hit her skin. The air had turned colder, and the stone-paved roads beneath their feet felt like ice.

She braved the biting cold, stepping into the carriage with the Tang Pozi snug between her feet, trying to trap whatever warmth she could.

Cao Xun, sitting by the window, stole a glance in her direction. But Yunzhu, focused on adjusting her shoes, was blissfully unaware of his gaze.

Once she finished, she was caught off guard when a pair of strong hands reached out from beside her. They carefully lifted her legs and placed them on his lap.

She froze, instinctively gripping the couch for balance, her heart racing. Cao Xun, with deliberate gentleness, slipped her shoes off one by one, before pulling her feet into his embrace, the fabric of his clothes shifting as he did. The warmth radiating from him surpassed the meager comfort of the Tang Pozi, though the sudden intimacy made her uneasy. She couldn’t meet his eyes and focused on the floor instead.

"Are your hands cold?" he asked softly, his voice like silk.

Yunzhu shook her head, clutching a hand stove in her arms, but her mind was elsewhere. As the carriage rolled forward, she was lost in thought. Thoughts of her conversation with Emperor Qianxing, the uncertainty about her relationship with the emperor, and the strange pull Cao Xun had on her filled her mind. What was he truly after?

She had no regrets. Her family's wishes didn’t matter when it came to power games. Her brother was returning soon, and she dreaded what might happen if the little emperor turned on her. She knew too well how easily a minister could be made a scapegoat, and the thought of her brother being caught in the crossfire made her uneasy.

Before the palace meeting, she hadn't figured out how to handle things. It was the emperor who had come to her, not the other way around. She'd played her cards carefully, keeping her words in check.

When the carriage finally pulled up at Duke Dingguo's mansion, Cao Xun stepped out with a quiet grace, helping her with her shoes as they both disembarked.

Pan Shi had already gotten out, and sensing the silence from inside the carriage, urged her son to leave first. With little choice, Cao Shao waved goodbye to his brother and sister-in-law before following his mother back to the west courtyard.

Once they were gone, Cao Xun lingered by the carriage’s side, his back to her, but his presence unmistakably heavy in the air. Normally, she wouldn't care, but tonight, something about his stillness made her restless.

She couldn’t stand it. "We’re all human," she whispered, "I can manage."

Without turning, he spoke, his voice calm and insistent, "Come on, I can walk fast."

There was no escaping the intensity in his tone, so Yunzhu gave in.

With surprising ease, Cao Xun lifted her onto his back and carried her swiftly, without a word more, back to their home.

On New Year's Eve, every house was lit up, sparkling with festive lights, while the sharp crack of firecrackers echoed relentlessly in the air.

Cao Xun, confident and commanding, held the young woman close—his hand gripping her shoulder, the other pressing against her side as he watched her transformation. From resistance to surrender, he reveled in each shift as she responded to him, each movement more eager than the last.

By late night, as the temperature dropped and water turned to ice, the air grew thick with heat and humidity, swirling around them in the gauzy tent, adding to the electric tension.

Yunzhu, exhausted and spent, finally drifted to sleep in his strong, protective embrace.

As dawn broke, the first light of the Lunar New Year painted the sky, and Yunzhu received another lavish gift from Cao Xun. At nineteen, it had been two thousand taels, but at twenty, he doubled it.

"Why so much?" she asked, skepticism lacing her voice.

Last year, they had been inseparable, but this time, something was different. Both of them felt the invisible wall that had risen between them.

Cao Xun gently touched her head, his smile tinged with something more. "Men reach full maturity at twenty. And I believe women should, too. Nineteen is still a girl’s age. But at twenty, a woman is truly an adult."

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The author has a note to add:

Little Emperor: Uncle, am I also a child in your eyes?