Yun Yi pushed aside the carriage curtain.
Her hair was done up in the standard palace attendant’s style, with a few wispy new strands of hair playfully poking out from under her eunuch’s headscarf.
The mountain wind, thick with floral fragrance, poured into the carriage. To the right of the official road, rows of mountain cherry blossoms were in full bloom. She reached out her hand, and the branches brushed past her fingertips.
Her pale hand swayed gently amid the sea of soft pink blossoms.
Rustling sounds came—like the friction of fabric.
Yun Yi whipped her head around—
A vast expanse of dazzling yellow engulfed her head. The soft tussah silk, embroidered with coiled dragons in peacock-feather thread, met her gaze—the threads shimmering with splendor.
It was the Emperor’s dragon robe.
Unlike the ambergris described in books, what Yun Yi smelled was a fresh, clean fragrance—like the dried tangerine slices she loved to eat.
“Since you want to wear it, take it.”
The Emperor had removed his dragon robe, wearing only a plain white undershirt.
The wind swept up falling cherry blossoms, whirling them inside the carriage.
Two pinkish-white petals clung to Xiao Zhi’s crown.
Yun Yi handed the dragon robe back: “That’s a capital offense. I’m not falling for it.”
She added a muttered complaint: “What’s the difference between this and a bald boss giving me his black jacket?”
Xiao Zhi heard her.
Boss, jacket, blah blah blah—he didn’t understand. The only word he caught was “bald.”
In the future era, he had seen plenty of “notices”:
[Treat hair loss, say goodbye to baldness]
[Rich woman seeks sperm donor]
[One shot cures—lin…]
Back then, Yun Yi had said: “Don’t believe those—they’re all scams.”
She was actually comparing him to a bald man. Xiao Zhi’s expression soured immediately: “If you don’t wear it, you die.”
“…”
Yun Yi thought to herself—what was wrong with this Emperor now? His moods came and went like the wind.
“This servant obeys Your Majesty’s decree—a thousand thanks for the imperial favor.” She pitched her voice into a little eunuch’s squeak.
She shook open the dragon robe and draped it over herself.
“Pfft.” Xiao Zhi laughed.
The imperial carriage reached the busiest street in the capital.
The royal majesty was naturally awe-inspiring.
From afar came cries of “Long live the Emperor!” and “Ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand ten thousand years!” as commoners on both sides of the street knelt to the ground.
Imperial guards kept the ordinary citizens at bay, their eyes scanning every suspicious figure.
Amid all the clamor, only one person was sound asleep.
Xiao Zhi tapped the carriage wall: “What time is it?”
Wang Delan: “Your Majesty, just before the hour of You [5-7 PM].”
The carriage had been traveling for three hours. She hadn’t woken once.
Xiao Zhi watched her for a long while, then called out: “Little Chair.”
Yun Yi’s head lolled from side to side.
His heart sank. He shook her arm: “Wake up.”
“Tch.” She was deep in a dream—no way she was waking up. She swatted his hand away.
Disturbing someone’s dream—death penalty.
“Hiss,” Xiao Zhi rubbed his stinging hand. “Iron Palm? Assaulting the Son of Heaven is immediate execution.”
“So noisy…” Yun Yi muttered. She seemed on the verge of waking for a moment, then fell back as if under a sleeping spell.
Her head tilted and bumped against the coiled dragon on the carriage wall. She frowned briefly but still didn’t wake.
“After we return to the palace, have someone remove that dragon head,” the Emperor ordered Wang Delan.
“As you command.”
Wang Delan saw the Emperor looking out from the carriage, his gaze fixed on something in the distance.
There, the largest butcher shop in the capital.
A large black-and-white spotted fat pig was tied up at the entrance of the butcher shop. The shop owner was about to slaughter the live pig and distribute the meat to the surrounding residents to celebrate his son’s success in the imperial examinations.
Looking around, the ground was covered with kneeling figures. The only one not kneeling was that trussed-up fat pig.
“No more sleeping.” Xiao Zhi poked Yun Yi’s cheek with his fingertip—the cheek dimpled into a small pit, like a little dimple. “Look, here’s one of your kind.”
He thought back to the last time she had fallen into an unresponsive sleep, and fear crept back into his heart.
“Yun Yi?” Xiao Zhi cupped her face. “Wake up, will you?”
The girl who had been murmuring in her sleep just moments ago now lay limp in his palm, her head tilted against it, completely unresponsive.
“This old minister pays respects to Your Majesty!” Imperial Physician Zhou, who was off duty today, had heard of the imperial arrival and brought his entire Sun family out to greet the carriage.
The imperial carriage drove directly into the Sun residence.
The Emperor, dressed in plain clothes, carried a bright, indistinct bundle down from the carriage—it was impossible to tell if it was male or female, for the Emperor deliberately shielded the person’s face.
“Your Majesty, the servants are preparing the main guest chamber—please—”
Xiao Zhi’s expression was cold as unthawed snow: “Just find me a clean side room.”
Seeing that the Emperor couldn’t wait, Imperial Physician Zhou offered the room prepared for his unborn granddaughter.
Zhou’s daughter-in-law had already borne two sons. A fortune-teller had said the third child would be a little miss, and the entire household was overjoyed. The little miss’s room was far more elaborate than those of the two mischievous boys.
Imperial Physician Zhou finished taking the pulse.
“The young eunuch’s pulse is steady—merely drowsy, nothing serious.”
Last time, the imperial female physicians had given the same diagnosis.
Only the Emperor’s most trusted confidants were in the room, every one of them anxious.
Imperial Physician Zhou assumed the Emperor was eager for his trusted young eunuch to wake up and attend to him, and suggested: “Perhaps this old minister could apply moxibustion to the young eunuch to help him wake sooner.”
The Emperor was displeased: “Is he a eunuch?”
“This—” Imperial Physician Zhou was shocked. He looked more closely at the person on the bed—fair skin, not a single pore visible on the face.
A spring breeze slipped in, lifting the stray hairs at “his” temples, curling into two delicate parentheses.
Outside the latticed window, waves of crabapple blossoms rolled. The sleeping person’s lips were as brilliantly colored as the flowering trees in the inner courtyard.
“This old minister’s eyes are failing…” Imperial Physician Zhou’s words reached his lips but fell back.
The entire court knew the Emperor favored a number of young, inexperienced eunuchs.
Little Chair and Little Bat were among them.
But Imperial Physician Zhou had never imagined that Little Chair was actually a woman.
After taking the pulse, a maidservant brought over a carved rosewood tray. Zhou was about to take the silk handkerchief from the tray to wipe the patient’s wrist—
His withered hand hung in midair—the handkerchief was intercepted by a strong, powerful hand.
The Emperor wiped Yun Yi’s hand himself. Noticing a bit of flower mud trapped under her nail, he recalled how she had been snapping flowers and breaking branches all along the way, yet had never found a single one that satisfied her.
“Flower assassin,” the Emperor tutted repeatedly.
“…”
No one dared to respond.
Seeing Imperial Physician Zhou hesitate, the Emperor said: “All of you withdraw. Imperial Physician Zhou, stay.”
The door was closed, and the trusted attendants retreated to the far end of the inner courtyard. Only the sovereign and his subject remained.
Imperial Physician Zhou, old and with a bad leg, struggled to kneel.
The young Son of Heaven spoke first: “Imperial Physician Zhou, speak freely.”
Xiao Zhi pulled over a small rosewood chair by the bedside.
Imperial Physician Zhou obediently sat down on his granddaughter’s custom-made baby chair.
“Minister Zhou, you were the Director of the Imperial Hospital in the previous dynasty. The reason I insisted on keeping you in the Imperial Hospital despite all objections was because of your superb medical skill.”
With the change of dynasties, the late Emperor had sent Zhou out of the palace.
For a long time, Zhou had run a small medical clinic in the capital, supporting dozens of members of his family.
If not for the Emperor reinstating him, the Zhou family would never have made such a remarkable comeback.
“Your Majesty,” Imperial Physician Zhou’s eyes reddened slightly, “this young lady’s excessive drowsiness—is there a reason for it?”
“She is not like us,” the Emperor did not reveal Yun Yi’s identity, only hinting, “She has traveled far and wide, seen many magnificent sights.”
“So she is a celestial being on a journey.” The old physician grew grave. “Your Majesty, after this immortal descended to the mortal realm, she has taken in too much of the human world’s mundane fumes. These chaotic energies have invaded her body, causing her drowsiness. If she does not return to the celestial realm soon, these episodes will grow more frequent.”
On the canopied bed, Yun Yi lay with a serene sleeping expression.
Yes—even when she was awake, she always seemed untouched by worldly concerns, as if there was nothing in this world she truly cared about.
This world.
Xiao Zhi smiled bitterly—she never truly belonged to this mundane realm.
Here, she was utterly alone—she could fall ill, grow weary, and feel fear.
In her own era, there was her unreliable father, her divorced mother, her brother who had gone far away… and supposedly a dog named Kelu.
Her life was ordinary at best, but at least it was free and easy.
.
Morning birds chirped.
Yun Yi was woken by the incessant calls.
“Miss, you’re awake?” Yu Lian’er exclaimed in surprise, then muttered, “His Majesty watched over you all night without a stir—and of course, you wake up the moment he leaves.”
Yun Yi didn’t quite catch her words. She looked around the unfamiliar room—on the elm-wood table sat a candle stand, its faint flame still flickering.
“This is Imperial Physician Zhou’s residence. You fell asleep on the way back to the palace.”
Yun Yi nodded—so she’d gotten carsick and passed out.
“His Majesty thought you were—”
Yun Yi finished: “He thought I was dead?”
The door suddenly swung open.
“Who gave you permission to speak nonsense?”
Yun Yi: “…”
The maidservant knelt in shock.
Yun Yi leaned half her body out of the bed. Xiao Zhi was wearing a light green outer robe with a row of emerald bamboo patterns on the diagonal collar. His hair was simply tied up, the ribbon fluttering just right behind his neck.
Only when the Emperor drew closer did Yun Yi notice the traces of un-dried moisture still on his face.
Dressed like an ordinary young master, his sharpness softened, giving him a more dignified appearance.
Wang Delan, attending beside him, held a towel for wiping the face, his expression torn between offering it and not daring to. Being a eunuch who could read the room, he tilted the tray toward Yun Yi.
“His Majesty hasn’t rested all night—this servant urged him to rest, but the moment His Majesty heard you were awake—”
“And who gave you permission to speak nonsense?” Xiao Zhi slapped the eunuch’s shoulder—a solid blow that sent Wang Delan’s body tilting.
Yun Yi took the towel and saved the moment: “Come here.”
The Emperor didn’t move.
She shifted further into the bed and patted the empty space on the edge: “Come over and wipe your face.”
The eunuchs and maids knelt—they didn’t know why they were kneeling, but kneeling was always the safe choice.
“No one has ever dared to command me.” With all these servants watching, didn’t he have face to save? Did she think he’d come just because she said so? Was he some stray cat or dog?
“One…”
Before she could say “two,” a gust of wind stirred—his light green robe rippled like a lake under a sudden breeze, waves of fabric swaying. The Emperor used his lightness skill and in an instant appeared by the bedside.
The edge of the bed dipped slightly. In the blink of an eye, the Emperor had obediently sat down.
His slender fingers pressed the soft towel, lightly tracing over his chin, wiping away the dampness.
He had been in the middle of washing up when he heard she was awake, and had rushed over.
Yun Yi’s little finger was pricked by something. She pulled back the towel and saw dark stubble sprouting on the Emperor’s chin.
Her gaze met Xiao Zhi’s dark eyes—in their pupils, her reflection stared back.
She curved her lips: “So this is what you look like without shaving.”
The Emperor, still remembering her likes and dislikes, hurried to clarify: “It’s not a full beard.”
Yun Yi curiously touched his chin—a prickly, tingling sensation, like static electricity.
“Pretty scratchy,” she commented honestly.
“It really isn’t!” The Emperor grew flustered and pressed her hand down. “Here, feel for yourself.”
His large palm cupped her not-so-large hand, their fingers overlapping, each nestled between the other’s—as if perfectly fitted.
He was awkwardly nervous, trying to read her expression.
Her almond eyes blinked three times, like the elk he had spared during the spring hunt.
Yun Yi suspiciously pulled her hand back, wiped it with the towel, and said with utter sincerity: “Your hands are really sweaty.”
“…”
The floral fragrance grew thicker, the atmosphere more intimate.
Thwack— From another courtyard came the sound of chopping wood.
A newly hired servant in the Zhou household grumbled: “Why won’t this log split?”
Xiao Zhi’s eyes blazed with fury—wood, that unenlightened piece of wood!
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