It had been a very long time since Wen Zhiyi had returned to the Chancellor’s residence.
The estate was surrounded by heavily armed guards, patrolling day and night. No unauthorized person was allowed within several paces of the walls.
Even Wen Zhiyi, dressed in plain clothes to avoid attention, was nearly turned away when she approached.
Fortunately, Lurao stepped forward and produced her token just in time. Only then were mistress and servant allowed to enter through the side gate.
Just beyond it lay a small courtyard.
A young man sat quietly on the grass, absentmindedly twirling a wildflower he had picked from the ground.
His jet-black hair only made his fair complexion appear even more pale, almost like polished jade.
Unfortunately, he was far too thin.
His moon-white robe hung loosely from his frame, and when he lifted his hand, the wide sleeve slipped down, revealing a lean forearm and long, elegant fingers with sharply defined joints.
Hearing the side gate open, the young man turned around.
The moment he saw her, he froze.
Tilting her head with a smile, Wen Zhiyi greeted him cheerfully.
“I wonder which lucky flower has managed to catch Aji’s eye today?”
At the sound of a familiar family voice, Wen Zhiji finally snapped back to reality.
For the briefest instant, his crystal-clear eyes shone with unmistakable joy.
But the light vanished almost immediately.
He forcibly suppressed the emotion before it could grow, replacing it with the same respectful distance he had always maintained.
“This subject greets Your Highness, the Noble Consort.”
He lowered his head politely.
“What brings Your Highness back to the residence?”
“You really haven’t changed.”
Wen Zhiyi shook her head helplessly.
“I don’t know what to do with you.”
She looked around the estate.
The once-busy Chancellor’s residence now felt deserted.
There were no servants.
No guards.
No maids.
Even the weeds had grown tall from days of neglect.
“Where is everyone?”
“After Father was imprisoned in the Imperial Prison, I confined every servant and maid within the residence.”
“I assigned several loyal retainers with martial skills to guard them around the clock.”
He spoke calmly.
“In case any spies attempt to escape… or secretly pass information to the outside.”
Wen Zhiyi raised an eyebrow approvingly.
“You were cautious.”
“Very good.”
Yet even after receiving praise, Wen Zhiji’s expression remained as indifferent as ever.
“If Your Highness was permitted to return,” he asked quietly, “does that mean Father’s case is nearing its conclusion?”
“The evidence against him appears overwhelming.”
She continued walking through the courtyard as she spoke, seemingly absorbed in inspecting the home she had not seen for so long.
Silence stretched between them.
Only after quite some time did Wen Zhiji speak again.
“…How is Her Majesty the Empress?”
Wen Zhiyi paused.
She turned to study him carefully.
“My sister and I are both imperial consorts.”
“In public, it’s understandable that you address us by our titles to avoid gossip.”
“But right now…”
She looked straight into his eyes.
“…it’s only the two of us.”
“Why won’t you call me Second Sister?”
Wen Zhiji stood frozen.
For perhaps the first time in years, the calm mask he always wore cracked slightly, revealing confusion beneath.
A trace of irritation crept into Wen Zhiyi’s voice.
“Even back then, when the three of us lived together in this residence, you always called my sister ‘First Miss’ and me ‘Second Miss.'”
She frowned.
“You always acted as though you were an outsider.”
“…I am a son born of a concubine.”
“So what?”
Wen Zhiyi answered immediately.
“Father has only one son.”
“Everyone in the capital knows you’ll inherit the Wen family one day.”
“Besides, after Mother passed away, Father never remarried.”
“You never had to worry about—”
He interrupted softly.
“Precisely because of that…”
“…I must never forget who I am.”
Wen Zhiyi stared at him.
“What did you say?”
Without raising his eyes, he repeated himself.
“I said… precisely because of that, I must never forget my place.”
His voice was low.
“My birthday happens to be Mother’s death anniversary.”
“My biological mother was the one who killed her.”
“Since the day I was born, Father has never liked me.”
“The fact that he spared my life was already an act of mercy.”
He smiled bitterly.
“How could I possibly fail to know my own place?”
Wen Zhiyi frowned deeply.
“So you’ve trapped yourself with thoughts like these all these years?”
A self-mocking smile crossed Wen Zhiji’s face.
“Perhaps Your Highness no longer remembers.”
“When you were little…”
“…you hated me too.”
Wen Zhiyi fell silent.
He wasn’t wrong.
There had indeed been a time when she deeply resented him.
Back then, both the Chancellor’s lawful wife and one of his concubines had become pregnant at nearly the same time.
The experienced women in the household all said both were carrying boys.
The concubine had originally been a maid born into the Wen household.
Ambitious by nature, she had taken advantage of an opportunity while the Madam was pregnant and unable to attend to her husband.
One night, after the Chancellor became drunk, she climbed into his bed and secured herself the position of concubine.
Originally, the Chancellor and his wife had shared a loving marriage.
After that incident, Madam ignored her husband for a long time.
Knowing he was in the wrong, he spent years trying to win back her forgiveness.
Only after their eldest daughter had begun her formal education did the couple finally reconcile.
Not long afterward, Madam became pregnant again.
But by then, the concubine was also expecting.
The Chancellor already held little affection for the concubine after years of estrangement from his wife.
Though both pregnancies should have been a joyous occasion, the concubine became terrified.
If Madam gave birth to a legitimate son, then her own child, born of a concubine, would lose any place in the Chancellor’s heart.
There would be no hope of inheriting the family.
As her delivery date approached, she brought Madam a bowl of safflower medicine and tricked her into drinking it.
What she hadn’t expected…
…was that the medicine failed to kill the unborn child.
Instead, it claimed the mother’s life.
The safflower triggered premature labor.
Madam exhausted every last ounce of strength to give birth to a baby girl.
Afterward, she bled endlessly.
There was no saving her.
Yet she refused to die immediately.
She didn’t want her youngest daughter’s birthday to forever become the day people mourned her death.
Already at death’s door, she relied on medicine to prolong her life by three days.
Three days later, the concubine went into labor.
As a baby boy’s cries echoed through the estate…
…news arrived from the main courtyard that Madam had finally passed away.
That baby girl was Wen Zhiyi.
That baby boy was Wen Zhiji.
The Chancellor was consumed by guilt toward his late wife.
Because of that guilt, he could scarcely face the daughter she had sacrificed her life to bring into the world.
He also hated the concubine with every fiber of his being.
And because he hated her, he could never bring himself to love the son she had left behind.
The siblings, born only three days apart, shared the same cruel fate.
Neither had ever known a mother’s love.
Neither had truly experienced a father’s affection.
When Wen Zhiyi was little, she had overheard servants whispering that Wen Zhiji had brought about his own mother’s death.
How could a child not come to hate her younger half-brother after hearing such words?
Only later, as she grew older and wiser, no longer believing every rumor she heard, did her elder sister finally tell her the truth.
The one who had truly killed their mother…
…was not their younger brother.
It was the concubine.
As for the concubine herself…
The moment she gave birth, the grief-stricken Chancellor, devastated by the loss of his wife, ordered her execution.
She was buried alongside the woman whose life she had taken.
Her elder sister had once said to her:
“The world is unpredictable. Some things are destined, yet life itself is never free from change.”
“And as for Aji…”
She had smiled gently before finishing the thought.
“To us, Aji may be someone difficult to forgive…”
“…but he is also someone whose suffering deserves compassion.”