A eunuch from the Dowager Empress’s palace came to report: “Your Majesty, I beg to report—the Dowager Empress has not taken a single drop of water.”
The Fifth Prince’s assassination attempt had caused an uproar, and word had quickly spread to the Dowager Empress’s chambers.
Slurp. Yun Yi swallowed a sip of her medicinal tonic.
The sound of her swallowing was extremely faint—no one heard it.
Xiao Zhi cast a glance beneath the table.
Hidden under the imperial desk was a low side table, fully stocked with a teapot, snacks, and even a backrest cushion.
Yun Yi was the sort of person who never shortchanged herself when it came to enjoying life.
“Send the imperial physicians to examine the Dowager Empress,” Xiao Zhi ordered.
Whether she lived or died, the Dowager Empress was nothing more than a mascot in this palace.
The eunuch knelt on the ground: “…”
“Did the Dowager Empress have any other instructions?” The Emperor picked up a small saucer from the imperial desk and, seizing a moment when no one was watching, smoothly passed it under the table.
Yun Yi took it, her eyes lighting up: it was her favorite dried tangerine slices!
Tangy, sweet, and delicious—free of artificial additives, far better than modern-day snacks.
“Your Majesty,” the eunuch wailed, “the Dowager Empress, she—”
“Have the imperial kitchen prepare some herbal drinks for the Dowager Empress,” Xiao Zhi casually listed a few beverage names, carefully avoiding the ones Yun Yi liked. “She’s not that old, and already she won’t touch a drop of water? At this rate, tomorrow she’ll refuse solid food, and the day after…”
Wouldn’t she be dead?
The imperial study fell silent.
Xiao Zhi pushed his imperial seat aside, suddenly opening up the space beneath the desk. Seeing her crouched there like a squirrel hiding in a tree hollow for the winter, he felt a pang of discomfort.
“The Dowager Empress’s people are gone.”
But Yun Yi simply brushed off the silk damask cushion she was sitting on, pulled her blanket higher, and lay there like a reclining Buddha.
“Come out,” Xiao Zhi said, reaching out to pull her up.
Yun Yi didn’t move. She tapped a finger on the empty teapot.
With a single look from Xiao Zhi, the attendant Yu Lian’er crouched down to take it.
Yun Yi: “Why won’t you let your stepmother drink this? It’s icy cold, with plums and dried tangerine peel—it’s delicious.”
Xiao Zhi immediately equated the Dowager Empress with the word “stepmother.”
“Fool,” he said coldly. “With how possessive you are over your food, why would I give your favorite to her? Besides, would she even drink it? Every pot we send, she smashes.”
What a waste.
“Are you coming out or not?” He reached his arm down, nearly touching the top of Yun Yi’s head.
His long, slender fingers hung beneath the desk, his sleeve falling like a bright yellow banner.
“Your Majesty, Helian Tu, the young Khan of the Northern Di, requests an audience.”
Yun Yi’s hand froze midair.
Xiao Zhi curled his five fingers—his grasp came up empty. He was none too pleased.
“I, Helian Tu, pay my respects to Your Majesty. Long live the Emperor, long, long live the Emperor!”
The voice was strikingly familiar, reminding Yun Yi of the day the Hu girl fell into the water—the big-bearded foreigner who had grabbed an oar to save her.
Xiao Zhi withdrew his hand somewhat, yet stubbornly continued groping blindly under the desk.
With a foreign envoy paying his respects, the stinky emperor kept fishing around under the table—wasn’t he afraid of getting caught?
Yun Yi, like a mushroom spirit taking human form, shuffled forward on her haunches and offered up her head.
Xiao Zhi paused briefly—he had meant to take her hand, but this girl had offered her head instead.
Oh well. He gave her head a vigorous rub.
“Have a seat.”
As Helian Tu rose, his eyes caught the faint curve at the corner of the Emperor’s mouth—there one moment, gone the next, replaced by the brooding expression he was known for.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Helian Tu stood a head taller than the average commoner, with exceptionally broad shoulders.
Like all Northern Di people, Helian Tu wore a thick beard.
Xiao Zhi remembered that Yun Yi despised beards. Once that thought settled, when he looked at Helian Tu, his gaze was clear, almost tinged with goodwill.
“The young Khan’s sudden visit has caught me unprepared.”
Helian Tu bowed with clasped hands: “I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness for my abruptness.”
The late Emperor of Yan suddenly passed away, and the young Khan of the Northern Di, who had not gone to pay his respects, had been uneasy about it ever since.
This time, a Northern Di envoy suddenly fell gravely ill. The Yan court did its utmost to treat him, and the envoy recovered and returned to the Northern Di.
The young Khan was immensely grateful and came in person to kowtow and thank the new sovereign of Yan.
This set of explanations was logically airtight—reasonable and well-founded.
He only forgot one thing: the Hu girl’s sudden fall into the water had already caused a major disaster. The Emperor was enraged, and together with the Fifth Prince’s attempted assassination, he intended to pile the charges and punish both offenses.
What explanation could the noble young Khan of the Northern Di offer for being at the scene of the crime alongside a condemned criminal?
“No matter.” Xiao Zhi was a man of few words.
Whatever Helian Tu said, he listened.
A fragrance drifted up from beneath the imperial desk—the sweet-tangy aroma of dried tangerine slices. Smelling it, he felt at ease.
“I came this time at the Fifth Prince’s invitation to attend the Shangsi Festival,” Helian Tu knelt again. “I beg Your Majesty to punish me. Had I known the Fifth Prince intended to…”
When the Emperor’s sharp glance swept over him, Helian Tu’s heart gave an inexplicable jolt. But that glance vanished as quickly as it came—too faint to grasp.
“The ignorant are not guilty. Rise.” Xiao Zhi looked at him for a moment, then asked, “How did the young Khan enjoy the Shangsi Festival?”
At the mention of the Shangsi Festival, Helian Tu’s face showed a hint of shame.
“Your Majesty, in Great Yan, men are married with children by the time they come of age at twenty. I am now twenty-six and still unwed. My father, the Khan, urges me constantly. Considering the long-standing friendship between Great Yan and the Northern Di, I have previously submitted a memorial requesting to marry a princess, to unite our two nations in marriage. May I ask Your Majesty’s opinion?”
Good heavens. That bearded man wanted to marry a princess?! In Yun Yi’s mind appeared visions of vast desert sands and the tragic scene of Wang Zhaojun leaving for a foreign marriage. She couldn’t help but feel anxious for her new friend.
Xiao Zhi merely said lightly: “I have seen your memorial.”
Helian Tu knelt again, with utmost sincerity.
Xiao Zhi rose.
Yun Yi quietly lifted the curtain beneath the imperial desk, daring to reveal only half an eye. She watched Xiao Zhi walk over to stand at Helian Tu’s feet.
One standing, one kneeling.
An overwhelming aura of authority.
“However, my imperial sister is still young and unstable in temperament. I wish to keep her by my side for a few more years. The young Khan has not met the princess—he does not know how impetuous she can be.”
This was the usual rhetoric from the bride’s family. Helian Tu took it as the Emperor’s polite refusal.
He kept his posture extremely low, his tone earnest, carrying a subtle undercurrent of determination: “With just one glance at the Shangsi Festival, I have been unable to forget the princess’s beauty ever since.”
Xiao Zhi said nothing.
Yun Yi thought to herself—Helian Tu’s intelligence was far too sharp. How could he have recognized the princess dressed as a servant boy at a single glance?
It must have been the Fifth Prince who identified her. What a troublemaker! Yun Yi cursed him twice under her breath and pricked up her ears to hear the Emperor’s response.
In ancient times, when did a woman ever have a say in her own marriage? Xiao Qingzhu, a princess of noble birth, was far better off than ordinary women, yet even she could only obey her brother’s arrangement. Yun Yi felt nothing but sorrow.
Seeing the Emperor silent, Helian Tu guessed his previous words had been ill-considered. “This mouth of mine—” He slapped himself on the mouth with a smack, his beard quivering with the motion.
“The sight of the princess diving into the water to save someone—her heroic bearing—I shall never forget. A true heroine, the very epitome of princessly grace.” Helian Tu showered her with praise, but Yun Yi was puzzled—wasn’t it she who had acted bravely? How had it become Xiao Qingzhu?
“The young Khan has mistaken the person,” Xiao Zhi said, his expression turning rather sour.
“How could that be?” Helian Tu avoided the Emperor’s gaze. He wanted to marry the one in his heart—what was a little hardship compared to that?
He produced a scroll of a painting and presented it: “I am somewhat skilled in painting. This is a portrait I made of the princess.”
Xiao Zhi took it.
The woman in the painting had a graceful, supple figure—it was Yun Yi, no doubt.
And yet, it was not her.
This Helian Tu looked like a big, rough fellow, but the girl he painted was like a bewitching spirit from a storybook.
When had she ever been so alluring?
What a joke.
“The young Khan’s painting skills are remarkable.” Xiao Zhi rolled up the scroll and held it in his palm.
Helian Tu reached out to take it back, but to his surprise, the sovereign of Great Yan actually tucked away the portrait he had spent a whole night painting.
Noticing the young Khan’s gaze, Xiao Zhi looked down and saw that the edge of the scroll was still protruding from his collar. He pressed the painting further into his robe.
“It is a fine painting. But unfortunately, my imperial sister does not care for being painted. I hope the young Khan will understand,” Xiao Zhi made up on the spot. “I will not show this painting to her, lest it upset her.”
“I see…” Helian Tu knelt once more. “I was presumptuous and offended the princess. I beg Your Majesty to punish me!”
Xiao Zhi: “The ignorant are not guilty.”
“I will not paint the princess again,” Helian Tu declared his loyalty. “But my heart is set on the princess, and I hope Your Majesty will—”
Xiao Zhi finally let out a laugh: “The young Khan is observant and your painting skills are superb, but unfortunately, they remain superficial. To refine your art, you must learn to read hearts. Only by knowing the heart can one capture the spirit.”
“Your Majesty’s lesson is well taken.”
“Since you are here, the spring hunt is approaching. I have heard that the men of the Northern Di are all hunting prodigies. The young Khan shall accompany me, so that I may witness the mettle of Northern Di warriors.”
“I obey Your Majesty’s command.”
Helian Tu was escorted out of the hall by Wang Delan.
Only after he had walked out of the palace did he stroke his beard three times and finally understand.
That talk of reading hearts—it was not about discerning anyone else’s heart, but the Emperor’s.
The Emperor was adamant—he would not let the princess marry into the Northern Di. But if the marriage alliance fell through, his father the Khan would surely send troops, and war would once again ravage the border between the Northern Di and Yan.
Did the sovereign of Great Yan truly not care?
This was practically treating the Northern Di with utter contempt.
After the young Khan of the Northern Di left, Yun Yi was just about to crawl out from under the imperial desk when she heard Wang Delan announce Yue Minye. She scurried back under the table.
Yue Minye’s mouth—if he wasn’t tearing into the newly crowned top scholar, he was grumbling that some elderly minister was too old and senile and ought to retire and go tend his flowers.
Xiao Zhi covered his nose and let out a small sneeze. Yue Minye immediately unleashed a torrent of concern.
“Minister Yue truly cares for me.” Xiao Zhi took the blanket from Wang Delan’s hands. “Fan Xun is still hale and hearty—he’s not yet reached his days of retirement.”
Having failed to badmouth him, Yue Minye could only repeatedly say yes.
Amid Yue Minye’s incessant chatter, Xiao Zhi let the blanket fall to the floor.
Seeing the Emperor’s movement, Yue Minye assumed the blanket had simply slipped and frantically signaled Wang Delan with his eyes: You blind fool of a servant, pick it up!
Wang Delan stood there, utterly uneasy. The Emperor wasn’t covering himself—he was clearly covering that young lady under the table.
After seeing off Yue Minye, Cen Ni came to report: the Fifth Prince, Xiao Li, was on a hunger strike in his cell and had fainted today.
“A hunger strike?” Xiao Zhi twirled his jade thumb ring. “Just like the Dowager Empress? A mother-son bond—I am deeply moved.”
“Your Majesty?” Cen Ni assumed Xiao Zhi might show leniency, since Xiao Li was after all a prince.
“Have the imperial physician prick his philtrum,” Xiao Zhi stopped twirling. “Since my fifth brother enjoys hunger, he should stay awake and savor the feeling of an empty stomach.”
Cen Ni swallowed hard. When it came to ruthlessness, no one could match their Emperor.
Court officials came and went, and the Emperor grew increasingly irritated. By the time the imperial study fell completely silent, Xiao Zhi looked under the table again. Yun Yi had curled into a small ball, her head pillowed comfortably on the cushion, fast asleep.
He took two sips of tea: “Only you could fall asleep like this.”
“Doesn’t it get tiring?” Xiao Zhi raised an eyebrow and muttered, “Then again, this is how Dahuang sleeps too.”
“!” He was comparing her to that big yellow dog at the inn?! That stinky dog that had scammed her out of several sticks of Shuanghui sausages and then shifted its affections elsewhere.
Yun Yi couldn’t be bothered with him and continued pretending to sleep.
Yu Lian’er entered with a fresh plate of pastries—the kind that Yun Yi loved, which wouldn’t taste as good once cold. She caught Wang Delan pursing his lips and followed his gaze toward the underside of the imperial desk.
A hand reached out from under the table.
Five fingers slightly spread, making a weak grasping motion in the Emperor’s direction.
Yun Yi: “That bearded man painted me, didn’t he? Let me see it.”
Xiao Zhi snorted: “It’s an ugly painting. Why would you want to look at it?”
“Ugly?” She crawled out from under the table, her cheeks flushed from sleep. “I caught a glimpse just now—it looked pretty good.”
Yun Yi’s gaze landed on the front of the Emperor’s robe. The painting was hidden right there against his chest.
“Blind.”
“You—!”
Xiao Zhi knew she was about to snatch the painting and was ready for it. He pulled out the scroll and held it aloft.
Yun Yi bounced up and down like a bouncing ball, but her fingertips only brushed against empty, chilly air.
She was furious: “What’s so great about being tall?!”
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