Chapter 58
Bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, Zhao Heng remained motionless on the stool. As twilight waned and the curtain of night gradually descended, she lowered her gaze, her eyes tracing the dance of her shadow on the floor.
Her mind drifted back to the incident of Xiao Silang's injury, recounted by him. Not long after she had entered the palace, he was ambushed on his way to the Spring Festival ceremony, a sword piercing his chest. The sight of his blood staining the path had left her utterly terrified. Now, as she recalled the palace corridor drenched in his crimson lifeblood, a chilling sensation crept into her heart, each beat echoing the icy tendrils of dread.
"Your Highness," a maid outside the door curtsied and greeted Li Wenjian upon seeing his approach.
Li Wenjian stepped into the bedchamber, gently placing a hand on Zhao Heng's shoulder to prevent her from rising. With a slight shake of his head, he turned his gaze to the medicine bowl on the table. Picking it up, he drained its contents in one gulp.
The bitter concoction coursed through his veins, the familiar acrid taste spreading from his throat to his abdomen. He couldn't help but frown, clutching his chest as he fought to suppress the churning bitterness within.
Zhao Heng gently pulling away from his grasp, she moved towards the table and poured a glass of water, extending it towards his lips.
He took the cup and drank, his face still pale, his slender eyelashes casting faint, fragile shadows beneath his eyes.
"Ah Heng," Li Wenjian murmured, his voice a soothing balm.
The pitter-patter of rain began to echo outside the hall, icy raindrops pelting the window lattice and showering Zhao Heng's raven hair. Reaching out, she caught a handful of rainwater in her palm. With a faint smile, she whispered, "I'm alright, just a little troubled."
Li Wenjian moved to her side, standing beside her by the window, their gaze fixed on the rain-streaked world outside.
"The worst is already behind us," Li Wenjian's expression appeared relaxed, with moisture glistening on his face. To endure hardships, he had experienced even more brutality on the battlefield during the Founding Emperor rebellion.
"To be a good ruler of this vast land, one must have the courage to make sacrifices for it."
Zhao Heng leaned on the window frame, raindrops hitting her palms. "It seems like Your Highness has never worried that someone might challenge your position."
Li Wenjian turned to meet Zhao Hong's gaze. "That is the confidence Father has given me."
"I've heard that the imperial family is ruthless, with the previous emperor and the Crown Prince of Wu worryingly suspicious of each other, lacking any trust between father and son," Zhao Heng remarked. "But there is no such suspicion between Your Highness and His Majesty."
"The emperor was not born an emperor, and I was not born a crown prince," Li Wenjian asked her, "Do you know why Grandfather began the rebellion?"
Zhao Heng shook her head, indicating she didn't know.
"When the previous dynasty's Emperor Li heard about the fame of my mother, he wanted to marry her and bring her into the palace as a Concubine. But when rumors spread, my father and mother hurriedly held their wedding. This angered the emperor, but he dared not openly confront the powerful An family with its centuries-old legacy, so he instigated trouble in my father's hometown under the pretense of taxation." Recalling the tragic history for the Li family, Li Wenjian's expression subtly creased.
"As a result, my grandmother was trampled alive, and my grandfather was devastated by her death. The times were turbulent; people couldn't taste the warmth of the world, only bitterness. So my grandfather rebelled."
Zhao Heng was astonished.
"In those troubled times, Mother fought alongside Father, helping him establish a new dynasty. Whether it was the bond they shared before the rebellion or the support they offered each other in combating the chaotic times, in my father's heart, Mother's position is unmatched by anyone."
Li Wenjian smiled faintly.
"So, he treats me with the warmth of a father to a son, without the suspicion of a king towards his subject. I can freely pursue my aspirations of serving the country and the people in my youth without the need to constantly cater to his preferences."
Zhao Hrng's eyelashes intertwined, appearing even more profound in the lamplight. She gazed at him earnestly, hesitating for a moment, as if she wanted to ask something but held back.
Li Wenjian focused on her, his eyes filled with flowing tenderness, and he said, "Are you wondering why, if the Emperor and Mother had such a good relationship, I still have so many half-siblings?"
She felt a bit awkward and nodded after a while. "I did want to ask, but talking about elders behind their backs seems improper."
Li Wenjian remained nonchalant and chuckled, "Gossiping about elders is indeed improper, but on a long night like this, it's not unheard of to share some family stories to dispel boredom."
With that, he reached out his hand, leading Zhao Heng back to the bed.
"Their story is lengthy, and I will tell you little by little. Where would you like to start?"
In the corner, a faint flame burned inside the incense burner, spreading a subtle fragrance throughout the room as the wind carried it.
"Your Highness, I would like to start from the beginning," Zhao Heng looked up at him and said.
Li Wenjian smiled and said, "Alright."
He then proceeded to tell her the story of how a butcher's son emerged from a mountain valley, caught the favor of the An family, was taken in as an apprentice against the norms, carefully taught and supported by them, promised a precious future. He also shared tales of the battles and the shared hardships and feelings on the battlefield.
As the long night went on, the candlelight inside the lotus palace lamps slowly dwindled, and Zhao Heng fell asleep leaning on Li Wenjian's shoulder.
She had initially been leaning against her own pillow, but when she heard that His Majesty was besieged at Huaxi Valley and the An family was secretly preparing provisions to rush to his aid, she was startled and leaned towards him.
And in that lean, she fell asleep.
He looked down at her fair face in the dim candlelight, never expecting that one day he would find himself lying in bed with a woman, engaged in late-night conversation.
The small bean lamp threw his shadow on the curtain, slim and elongated.
Listening to the faint and distant breath of the person beside him on the pillow, even though they were in the eye of the storm, about to endure unexpected turbulence at any moment, he remained unruffled, instead savoring the simplicity and comfort of the present peacefulness.
In the silent and dark night, the candlelight cast a dim light on Zhao Heng's sleeping face, her unconscious frown as she clutching the blanket. Li Wenjian sat by her side, wrapped in the blanket, silently watching her face for a moment. His perennially tender eyes slightly lowered, fixing on her arm.
He suddenly remembered how she had returned to him after seemingly walking away during the seige.
While his sword slashed the person's neck, the vine knife also plunged into his chest.
She had not replied during the day, but he knew she had returned for him.
*
The next day, when she woke up, Zhao Heng's mind was in disarray. She couldn't recall how she had fallen asleep the previous night, only vaguely remembering a night filled with bizarre dreams.
She dreamt of the Empress.
Perhaps after listening to her story the night before, Zhao Heng sincerely admired the mother of the nation, who was dignified and elegant but never frivolous.
She admired her sincerity, her endurance, her selfless sacrifice for the country and the people, and most of all, her unshakable courage.
"Is there still no progress? Why do you look so weighed down?" Yue Li spread out the cut alfalfa grass and then looked up at Zhao Heng squatting in the corner of the courtyard.
"I've checked the diet, there doesn't seem to be any conflict with the snacks..."
Zhao Heng lowered her head, feeling a bit disheartened. "I'm starting to doubt my own motives, suspecting others based on my own thoughts."
"Be cautious, better safe than sorry. If it were me, I might be a thousand times more cautious than you," Yue Li remarked.
Zhao Heng nodded and forced a smile, "I also sent the daily incense, rouge, and perfume to the imperial hospital."
Yue Li lifted her gaze, "Well done, learning to look at things from multiple perspectives."
Still squatting in the corner of the courtyard, Zhao Heng lightly touched a clump of wild grass under the fence.
Yue Li said, "Please spare my purple pansies, they're growing quite well."
Zhao Heng stood up and walked over to sit on a lounge chair.
"Having an argument?" Yue Li washed her hands in the water basin, took a sip of tea from the stone table, and then looked up at Zhao Heng.
Zhao Heng gently shook her head, hesitated for a moment, and asked Yue Li, "Would you feel uneasy and restless at that time?"
Yue Li smiled faintly, looked at her, and replied with a hint of meaning, "Because of the disparate status?"
"I..." Zhao Heng lowered her head and was about to speak when Yue Li interrupted her, "Listen to your own heart more, it knows the answer."
Zhao Heng sat up straight, pursed her lips, and remained silent.
"When I met him, he was already a respected young general, while I was just a nameless animal trainer at the Beast Garden," Yue Li fiddled with a string of dried flowers hanging on the fence. "I was a servant to others since I was young, couldn't bear the constant scolding and beatings, quietly ran away, got a fake identity from a pile of dead bodies and now even use someone else's name. I've done things to survive, been a thief, robbed on the streets, and you know, I've even killed someone."
Yue Li raised her eyes, "Someone like me is inherently extreme. Between him and me, it's not just the disparity in status, but also in temperament."
Zhao Heng listened quietly, then raised her head after a while.
"Our situations are different, I can't give you good advice." Yue Li sighed, "Listen to your own heart, it knows the answer."
At dusk, before Zhao Heng could return from the Beast Garden, Lian Zhou came to report, "Master, Physician Zheng found something."
"What?" Zhao Heng stood up in surprise.
Lian Zhou lowered his voice, "There's a spice called Compassion Fruit in the incense in the palace, it's from the royal family of Tianzhu and has a calming effect. It's not poisonous, but if consumed with cedar, it can damage the liver and lungs. It's irreversible in the long run."
"What spice?" Zhao Heng asked.
Lianzhou replied, "Soothing Incense."
"What are you going to do?" Yue Li asked.
Zhao Heng felt a chill down her spine, her heart in turmoil. The setting sun hung low in the western sky like a yolk. She looked up at the sky dyed red by the setting sun and shook her head slowly.
In the study, Li Wenjian's face no longer bore a smile. He glanced at the dagger on the table, his eyes dark and cold. He flexed his fingers, lightly touching the jade ring on his thumb. The dim light from behind did not illuminate his face, making it pale.
"Your Royal Highness."
Mu Gui gathered his courage and spoke hesitantly.
Li Wenjian raised his eyes, his deep gaze fixed on him, and waved his hand to signal him to leave.
The nearly full moon shone brightly, filling the study with a cool breeze. As autumn deepened, the trees in the courtyard shed their leaves, leaving them scattered on the ground as no palace servants were there to sweep them.
Zhao Heng brought the medicine, and as Mu Gui hurried out, she noticed his somewhat anxious steps. He was usually composed, so why did he seem flustered today?
Inside the slightly open door, a man in a white robe looked pale. Despite the chill in the air, there were beads of sweat on his forehead, and in his hand was an old dagger.
"Your Highness."
Zhao Heng entered the room with the medicine box and approached Li Wenjian.
Li Wenjian stared glumly at the dagger, seemingly oblivious to everything else. He clenched his fists, gripping the weapon tightly. The gem's absence exposed sharp claws on the dagger's hilt, which dug into the base of his white palm, drawing a bead of blood.
A jolt of worry shot through Zhao Heng at the sight of blood blooming on his pristine white robe. Kneeling beside him, she met his downcast gaze and hesitantly spoke, "Your Highness..."
The flickering candlelight cast an unsettling glow on the scene, highlighting Li Wenjian's anguish. Zhao Heng longed to ask about the source of his pain, but seeing the raw emotion in his red-rimmed eyes, she simply pursed her lips in understanding silence.
By candlelight, Li Wenjian watched his shadow stretch long and thin. He sighed, his gaze falling. Five years ago, beneath willow branches heavy with blossoms in Baqiao, Wei Zhan's crimson cloak billowed in the river breeze.
Wei Zhan was at the peak of his strength. A red-tasseled spear grasped in one hand, a cup of potent liquor held high in the other. He threw back his head, draining the cup with gusto before smashing it against the ground.
"I'll drive those northern invaders back!" he declared, his voice booming. "Shulang, wait for me!" With a single leap, he mounted Liefeng, his proud steed. Head held high, they vanished from sight at the pavilion's edge.
His words, however, became wisps of smoke, dissipating into the vastness. Li Wenjian never saw Wei Zhan return.
He fell in battle, his blood staining the fields before the tents of the Northern Di. His spirit, forever trapped, wandered the desolate Northern Palace. Li Wenjian had always believed the enemy had claimed Wei Zhan's life.
Only today did a horrifying truth come to light. The one who delivered the fatal blow, the one who betrayed Wei Zhan's oath to protect - it was not the Northern Di, but those very people from the Central Plains he swore to defend.
As if attending to numerous wounds in the past, she knelt beside him and looked up at him, "Your Highness, let me apply the medicine for you."
In the dim room, Li Wenjian's hands were covered in fresh blood, his eyes moist. He slowly released his grip, allowing her to take the bloodstained dagger from his palm.
Zhao Heng placed the medicine box down, and with the autumn wind blowing outside, she used a cloth to wipe the blood off his palm.
But the wound was deep, and the blood quickly seeped through again.
Zhao Heng looked up at him, his face illuminated by the flickering candlelight. "Your Highness, you shouldn't harm yourself like this. I truly ache for you."
Drops of blood fell on her skirt, creating large red stains.
After a long silence, Li Wenjian spoke hoarsely, "Ah Heng, I'm sorry."
"Your Highness, you haven't done anything to apologize for, and you can't control my feelings of pain." Zhao Heng gently applied the medicine powder to his palm and said, "I can't even control my own emotions."
She was so close, her silky hair, fair cheeks, and eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight were within arm's reach. He gripped the desk, then suddenly looked into her eyes.
"Ah-Heng," the voice whispered, carrying a hint of urgency.
Zhaoheng's attention was drawn away from her task, her gaze meeting the caller's with a flicker of curiosity.
"Ah-Zhan's death was an injustice," the statement hung in the air, heavy with unspoken grief and indignation.
Zhaoheng's movements slowed, her fingers carefully dabbing the remaining medicinal powder onto his hand. A single tear, clear as crystal, escaped her eye, tracing a path down her cheek before landing on her wrist. She paused, her touch lingering for a moment as she gently brushed away the droplet.