Wang Delan, Yu Lian’er, and several close bodyguards lay prostrate inside Yongsui Hall, trembling uncontrollably. Even the guard commander, who usually wore a perpetually stern face, looked unusually grim.
Wang Delan, who had clawed his way to becoming chief eunuch, rarely stammered. But now he did: “Y-Y-Your Majesty…”
Xiao Zhi’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Your dear ‘Majesty’ is sleeping.”
“Awake—I’m awake…” With a cold blade pressed against his neck, Xiao Qian could only squeeze a few words from his throat, his voice extremely low. If he so much as moved, that sword would send him straight to see the King of Hell.
“No more calling yourself ‘We, the Emperor’?”
“I wouldn’t dare! I’ll never dare again!” His left eye twitched violently. He couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. He widened his eyes as far as they would go, forcing out a glistening tear.
He looked utterly pitiful.
His eyebrow couldn’t help but twitch.
Shwik— The sword wind brushed his face. A chill spread.
Xiao Qian’s life was still intact.
But something on his face was missing.
Xiao Zhi turned the sword hilt, letting Xiao Qian see the reflection on the blade—
He had shaved off one of Xiao Qian’s eyebrows.
“My eyebrow! My eyebrow! Give it back! Waaaaah…”
The wailing echoed through the bedchamber.
“Wang Delan. Gag him.”
“As you command…”
—
Half an hour later, Xiao Zhi had gotten to the bottom of things.
The day he had vanished.
Wang Delan had just finished changing His Majesty’s court robes. When he looked back—His Majesty was gone.
Several palace maids and the guard commander had also witnessed it: the emperor had vanished into thin air.
It wasn’t the first time. Based on the previous experience, Wang Delan went to consult the emperor’s elder brother.
That day at court, Cen Ni was likely to memorialize regarding the Northern Di envoy’s poisoning—a matter crucial to the Yan Dynasty’s border defenses. How could the emperor skip court?
So Xiao Qian had stepped in to play the role again.
Who would have thought that “again” would last this long?
“Truly?” Xiao Zhi narrowed his eyes at his imperial brother. A barely contained ferocity churned within his phoenix eyes.
“You think I wanted to play emperor?!” Xiao Qian’s eyes were red. The formerly carefree Prince Huai had turned into a weeping mess. “No sleeping in, and I have to reason with all those old fossils. I only said two words about Yue Minye, and that old bastard lay down right there in the court! Lying down… lying down… lying…”
Xiao Zhi’s ears filled with Xiao Qian’s litany of complaints.
Annoying.
“Little brother, can you untie me?” Xiao Qian pressed his luck.
“First tell me—what exactly did you say about Yue Minye?”
“I said his daughter is so ugly, she dreams of marrying into the palace and becoming empress? Dream on.”
Yue Minye’s daughter? The girl the Empress Dowager brought to meet me the day we watched the performance?
His imperial brother hadn’t been wrong. That woman was indeed unspeakably ugly.
“—The Empress Dowager has arrived! Her Highness the Empress Dowager has arrived!”
Outside the bedchamber, Wang Delan shouted at the top of his lungs, like a rooster crowing, mustering every ounce of strength he’d accumulated in his entire career as a eunuch.
There was no time to change clothes. To deal with the Empress Dowager, Xiao Qian, dressed in the dragon robe, would impersonate the emperor one last time.
Xiao Zhi shot him a dagger-like glare. Xiao Qian pointed at his eyebrow with a pained expression.
In a flash, Xiao Zhi opened a small box. The box of band-aids that Yun Yi had given him lay quietly inside.
His furrowed brow loosened slightly. He opened the box.
Inside—only a few band-aids remained.
“Where are the rest?!” There had been so many!
“I used them.” Xiao Qian rolled his eyes at him. Same emperor title, getting stingier by the day.
He’d been starved for so long. He’d finally managed to sneak out of the palace to converse with that top courtesan. His skin was delicate and his body tender—the vigorous young lady had left some marks on him. A few band-aids to cover them up—was that a crime?
Xiao Zhi’s eyes blazed with ferocity.
Xiao Qian’s heart tightened. He quickly shielded his one remaining eyebrow. “Don’t you shave it off!”
The Empress Dowager entered the hall and was greeted by a scene of brotherly affection.
The emperor in the dragon robe was lounging on the dragon couch like a lord. Beside him, the eldest imperial prince—who typically lingered in pleasure quarters—was leaning over to apply medicine to the emperor’s wound.
“What’s wrong with the Emperor?” The Empress Dowager suppressed her delight and kept her voice steady.
The “emperor” shot her a lazy, languid glance, his eyes brimming with fabricated filial piety. “This son has been unfilial, troubling Mother with worry. I am fine.”
For the past three months, the “emperor” had suddenly changed his ways, paying his respects morning and evening as if he were more devoted than her own son. The Empress Dowager was both satisfied and dissatisfied.
Her face was saved.
Her mental and physical health, however, was not.
Wang Delan brought out the floral purple sandalwood chair.
The “emperor” gave it a glance, then patted the yellow satin cushion beside the couch and continued his “filial” act: “Mother, sit here. Let us speak privately.”
The Empress Dowager’s hair stood on end from head to toe…
Beside them, the “Great Imperial Prince” darkened his eyes.
The Empress Dowager shifted her gaze from the “emperor’s” brow bone to the “Great Imperial Prince.” Noticing the dark circles under his eyes, she felt a twinge of disgust, but nonetheless said, “So, Qian’er still remembers the way back to the palace.”
Xiao Zhi glanced at Xiao Qian—a silent message in his eyes: You attend court by day and visit brothels by night? Aren’t you afraid of catching something?
The fake emperor on the soft couch frantically signaled Xiao Zhi with his eyes: Little brother, don’t set me up. You can pretend to be me, just please don’t say anything reckless, or the Empress Dowager really will flay me alive.
Xiao Zhi vaguely remembered getting a flyer at the hospital’s dental department. As he was trying to retrace his steps back to the underground garage to find Yun Yi, someone had shoved another flyer into his hand.
【Love in the Heart, An AIDS-Free World】
He couldn’t understand the simplified characters and would need a few days to study them. But his intuition told Xiao Zhi that the conditions described on that paper were no trivial matter.
That sudden flyer had scattered his thoughts, and he suddenly forgot where Yun Yi had parked her car.
He’d frantically searched the garage for several rounds.
He was just an ancient man thrust into the modern world—he was only pretending to be calm.
The moment he found the Porsche, the flyer in his hand was nearly soaked through with sweat…
Facing the Empress Dowager’s veiled mockery, Xiao Zhi—playing the role of Xiao Qian—replied unhurriedly: “Your son is dull-witted. My ability to remember roads is far inferior to Fifth Brother’s. I’ve heard he maintains year-round private rooms in several pleasure quarters in the capital. Even on the day Father Emperor passed away, when Mother urgently summoned him back to the palace, he mistook a brothel for the palace gates and clung to the top courtesan, wailing and sobbing.”
That story had long since spread among the capital’s commoners.
It was said that the courtesan had been unwell and had drunk a calming decoction before falling asleep. Who knew that in the middle of the night, she would be jostled awake?
The Fifth Prince, Xiao Li, had been holding her: “Father Emperor, don’t leave… Father Emperor, this son has been unfilial…”
The courtesan had fainted on the spot.
As soon as Xiao Zhi said this, the Empress Dowager’s face turned sour.
The bedchamber fell silent. Only the Empress Dowager’s heaving breaths remained.
Xiao Qian endured the humiliation with great forbearance and drew out his voice: “Mother~!”
After squeezing out that nauseating tone, he ushered the ashen-faced Empress Dowager out.
Xiao Zhi overheard them discussing something about “identity verification” and “imperial perusal.” His gaze fell on the palace maid.
The palace maid dutifully reported the major events that had occurred during Xiao Zhi’s absence.
Xiao Zhi’s patience came to an abrupt halt. “Beauty selection?”
The late emperor’s edict had reduced the mourning period from three years to three months. During the national mourning period, commoners were forbidden from marrying or holding any entertainment activities.
And now the imperial family was taking the lead in holding a beauty selection?
That wretched Xiao Qian—after sitting on the dragon throne for just a few days, did he really think he could act with impunity?
Xiao Qian stepped into the hall. The dragon robe was a bit too large, and he tripped solidly. The moment he steadied himself, a sword light slashed toward his face, and his brow turned cold.
He clutched his brow and stared at the perpetrator in disbelief. “Why did you shave off my other eyebrow?!”
Xiao Zhi said coldly, “I’m teaching you a lesson in remembering.”
Remembering what lesson?! Xiao Qian was about to lose it.
He had worked an entire three-month shift as emperor, wearing an ill-fitting dragon robe, and had made the exact same blunder in front of the throne during court that very morning.
Yue Minye had mocked him in front of all the ministers: “His Majesty has been on the throne for months, yet even his stature has shrunk. This old minister’s heart aches for him.”
Xiao Qian had broken down: “I have rickets! Are you happy now?!”
They all said the life of an emperor was the ultimate luxury. Xiao Qian only felt exhausted. He’d heard from Yu Lian’er that Xiao Zhi had given his own dragon bed to Miss Yun to sleep in—so he certainly didn’t dare sleep in it either.
What kind of man sleeps in a woman’s bed?
He had no choice but to move to the soft couch on the other side of the bedchamber. Xiao Qian had tried to escape the palace several times, and even the brothel beds were more comfortable than that wretched couch.
Regarding the above experiences, Xiao Qian poured out a ten-thousand-word litany of complaints to his imperial younger brother.
“Give me back my eyebrows!”
Xiao Zhi rolled his eyes at him. He’d only shaved off two eyebrows—not gouged out his eyes.
“During the national mourning period, you and the Empress Dowager set a date for the beauty selection. What exactly are you plotting?”
“The national mourning period ended long ago!” Xiao Qian was so angry he jumped up and down on the spot, looking like a frantic street performer. “You were gone for three whole months! Leaving me here to suffer alone! It’s spring now! If we don’t hold the selection in spring, what else am I supposed to do? If you hadn’t come back, I’d have to marry Yue Minye’s daughter! Who would want to marry her? Those two slanted eyebrows of hers—I just can’t stand looking at them…”
Three months? He had only spent three days in Yun Yi’s era.
How had so much time passed in the Yan Dynasty when he’d only been gone three days?
Xiao Qian was still making a scene: “My eyebrows—how will you compensate me?”
“Wang Delan, grind the ink.” Xiao Zhi gave the order.
Xiao Qian’s bluster immediately diminished a few notches. He forced himself to carry on: “What, you’re going to issue an edict to cut off my head? Xiao Zhi, I was born one incense stick’s worth of time before you! I will always be your older brother!”
“Freak.” Xiao Zhi shot him a glance, letting out one of Yun Yi’s favorite curses.
He had little patience for his brother.
The imperial brush landed on Xiao Qian’s face, lightly tracing two strokes—the emperor drew a “reverse eight” shape on Xiao Qian’s forehead.
“I’ve compensated you.” Xiao Zhi was quite satisfied with his “imperial annotation.” He showed the first smile he’d given since returning to the Yan Dynasty.
Xiao Qian caught a glimpse of his face in the bronze mirror and burst into a torrent of curses.
Xiao Zhi said, “You claimed Yue Minye’s daughter has slanted eyebrows. So I have bestowed slanted eyebrows upon you. The two of you are well matched.”
“…”
The lively bedchamber cooled down.
The palace attendants helped the emperor change his clothes.
Two eunuchs brought over a large bronze mirror.
The sovereign in the mirror had lost his smile.
“This mirror is too blurry. I can’t see clearly.” Yun Yi’s home had a full-length mirror with a crystal-clear reflection. He had never before noticed the small, sesame-sized mole on the side of his own neck.
No wonder Yun Yi’s gaze often lingered on his neck.
So she had been looking at his mole.
“Your Majesty, this servant will have the Imperial Household Department hurry to produce a smoother bronze mirror.”
Wang Delan, who prided himself on reading the emperor’s mind, saw His Majesty shake his head and found himself at a loss for words.
Xiao Zhi tucked the crossbody bag Yun Yi had given him into a box. “Summon Cen Ni.”
Cen Ni hurried to the imperial study.
He found the emperor staring blankly at a few seals.
“Your servant Cen Ni greets Your Majesty.”
Xiao Zhi quietly closed the box containing the imperial seals. One imperial jade seal was missing, replaced by a small rubber stamp.
Wang Delan quickly locked the box.
Cen Ni felt that something was different about the emperor. His brow was cold and stern—as if the approachable emperor had been switched back to tyrant mode.
“Your Majesty, the Northern Di envoy has not yet recovered. He is still recuperating at my humble residence.” Under the full-force treatment of Imperial Physician Zhang, the Northern Di envoy had barely managed to cling to life, thanks to a rare medicinal treasure from the palace—a tribute from the Southern Barbarians. Before the late emperor’s death, he had used this medicine to extend his life by half a year.
During Xiao Zhi’s absence, Xiao Qian had already dispatched riders at full speed to the Southern Barbarians, but those sent to procure the medicine had not yet returned.
Xiao Zhi ordered several small porcelain vials to be brought forward.
“Have the Northern Di envoy take these immediately—one vial in the morning, one in the evening.”
This was the antidote Yun Yi had given him. Xiao Zhi had Wang Delan grind the tablets into powder and divide it into the small porcelain vials according to dosage.
If these ancient people were given tablets and happened to choke on them, wouldn’t that put their lives at risk?
Cen Ni returned to his residence with the imperially bestowed medicine.
The Northern Di envoy lay weakly on his bed, sensing that his time was near. Abandoning his usual diplomatic pretenses, he cursed Cen Ni in stiff Yan Dynasty speech: “If—if I die, the Northern Di will not let you go…”
Cen Ni couldn’t be bothered with his nonsense. He signaled to his attendants. Several men held the envoy down and forcibly poured the powdered medicine from the porcelain vial into his mouth.
After two doses had been administered, an urgent memorial reached the imperial presence.
The Northern Di envoy was now able to get out of bed.
The emperor’s imperial endorsement read: Noted. Take good care of him. Ensure he makes a full recovery.
He picked up the rubber stamp and pressed it down.
The bright red seal bore the four characters: Imperial Jade Seal.
“Wang Delan,” the emperor issued an edict, “summon the Keeper of the Imperial Seals.”
He wanted a new imperial seal recast.
Xiao Zhi stroked the rubber stamp Yun Yi had carved, back and forth. His fingertips stained red with ink paste, he pressed them firmly onto the rice paper.
Like a silent catharsis.
Dozens of fingerprints gathered into the shape of a cloud, as if the fiery clouds of sunset had fallen into the page.
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