It seemed like a telepathic connection. Just as Feng Jue was gazing slightly lost at their pressed-together hands, Zheng Xiangyi suddenly felt the same impulse arise within her.
She wanted to interlock her fingers tightly with his.
Unlike Feng Jue’s usual restraint and self-control, she acted almost instinctively. Her slender fingers slid into the gaps between his, and with a slight effort, she interlocked their hands perfectly.
In that instant, it felt as if a spark burst from their tightly entwined fingers, spreading heat at an astonishing speed through every limb, making even the blood beneath their skin boil with warmth.
Zheng Xiangyi instinctively looked up, just as Feng Jue lowered his gaze to meet hers.
Their eyes met in the air, and both held their breath.
She saw it clearly. In his eyes, Zheng Xiangyi clearly saw her own reflection. Her expression looked dazed and foolish, nothing like her usual self.
The surroundings were utterly silent. All Zheng Xiangyi could hear was the uncontrollably pounding heartbeat, drumming against her eardrums like thunder. She couldn’t tell if it was her own or His Majesty’s.
Or perhaps both their heartbeats had collided.
They maintained this posture for an unknown length of time before Zheng Xiangyi couldn’t help but lick her dry lips and speak haltingly, “So Your Majesty’s hand is so much bigger than mine.”
As her words fell, she felt His Majesty’s fingers, which had been loosely holding hers, stiffen slightly.
He paused for a moment, then, under her gaze mixed with unease and a trace of hope, slowly withdrew his hand.
Zheng Xiangyi watched his movements helplessly, the light in her eyes gradually dimming.
Why?
Bewildered, she held up her empty hand, her heart also feeling hollow. She didn’t know what she had been hoping for but instinctively felt a sharp sense of loss and sadness.
Her heart felt sour and swollen, heavy with discomfort, as if it could no longer beat.
Just then, a gentle force lightly rested on the crown of her head. She looked up and met Feng Jue’s gaze. His eyes were kind and benevolent, like any father looking at his still-youthful, guidance-needing daughter.
He stroked her hair, his voice steady as usual. “Haixing County is not far from Gaocheng County. Tomorrow, I will issue an edict ordering Feng Yu to take up his post there, so he can keep Feng Qin company.”
Zheng Xiangyi retrieved her hand somewhat dazedly, her fingertips curling slightly in the air. Then, as if nothing had happened, she flashed him a sweet, soft smile. “I knew it! Your Majesty dotes on me the most!”
Everything seemed to return to their usual way of interacting—close and natural. Yet, something in the air had subtly, silently changed.
Zheng Xiangyi adjusted her posture and began dutifully tidying the slightly disordered memorials on the desk. She pursed her lips, remaining silent, focusing quietly on her task.
Feng Jue casually opened a new memorial, his eyes resting on the dense black characters, yet he was unable to turn the page for a long time.
His thoughts drifted away—sometimes recalling Xiangyi’s childlike face when she first entered the palace, sometimes shifting to her current radiant, incomparably beautiful appearance.
The image of her curled in his arms earlier, tearful and softly sobbing, reappeared in his mind—her delicate, shapely body pressed tightly against him… Suddenly, he could no longer see her purely as an innocent child, as he had in the past.
His throat inexplicably felt dry. Xiangyi was a child he had raised with his own hands. No matter how old she grew, in his heart, she would always be like a daughter.
Since she called him “Father,” he had to uphold the responsibilities of a father.
They were separated by a full eighteen years. These eighteen years were like an insurmountable chasm, often making him hesitate.
He couldn’t help but imagine five, ten, even twenty years from now… Xiangyi might still be as radiant and beautiful as a flower, while he would be wrinkled and gray-haired. Would Xiangyi still be willing to hold his hand and walk beside him then?
Xiangyi was a girl who loved beauty. By her side should stand a young man of similar age, handsome and bright—that was what the world would call a “perfect match.”
His fingers unconsciously tightened, and he suddenly remembered the scene he had witnessed earlier in the garden. Uncontrollably, he spoke, his voice carrying a tension he himself hadn’t noticed. “Xiangyi… why did you act that way toward Feng Yu earlier?”
Zheng Xiangyi widened her eyes. Hadn’t that matter already been resolved? She hesitated, cautiously glancing at his expression. Seeing his calm face, as if he were just casually asking, she relaxed slightly.
“I just suddenly noticed that Feng Yu’s eyes and eyebrows… actually somewhat resemble yours,” she explained softly, her tone sincere. “Out of curiosity, I looked at him a little longer.”
This wasn’t entirely false. Among His Majesty’s three children, Feng Yao and Feng Qin took more after their mothers. Only Feng Yu’s eyes and eyebrows bore a seventy percent resemblance to His Majesty.
Feng Yu’s mother passed away early, and Zheng Xiangyi had never seen her face. She only heard that she was originally a minor palace maid in Consort Shu’s palace who, by chance, gained the emperor’s favor and gave birth to a prince but was not particularly liked by the emperor. Perhaps it was precisely because of this background that Feng Yu constantly bowed his head and endured in front of Feng Qin.
Feng Jue paused slightly. He actually couldn’t remember what Feng Yu’s mother looked like and rarely paid proper attention to this son. So… did Feng Yu really resemble him?
“Xiangyi said before that you despised Feng Yu. Was it because of that face?” He had secretly sent people to inquire about the interactions between Xiangyi and Feng Yu but found no trigger for any animosity between them. It seemed as if, overnight, Xiangyi had suddenly developed an inexplicable dislike for Feng Yu.
Zheng Xiangyi frowned hesitantly before vaguely replying, “Perhaps… that might be a small reason.”
Feng Jue’s thin lips pressed together slightly. “Xiangyi doesn’t like that face?”
His knuckles gripping the memorial unconsciously tightened, turning white with force.
“How could Your Majesty think that?” Zheng Xiangyi looked up in surprise, her tone carrying a hint of disdain and conflict. “That face resembles yours, so naturally it is handsome. But because it’s on Feng Yu, it makes me feel he doesn’t deserve it.”
With that face yet none of Your Majesty’s refined and composed demeanor—it was merely a counterfeit, a shoddy imitation.
The tightness at the corners of Feng Jue’s lips slowly eased, though his tone remained light. “I am already old and naturally cannot compare to Feng Yu in his prime.”
“Who says?” Zheng Xiangyi immediately protested, her eyes round and wide. “How could Feng Yu possibly compare to you? He’s just a green youth, not even as tall as you, always wearing a gloomy face as if someone owed him money!”
She lightly tugged at his sleeve, her eyes bright and sparkling like they were filled with stars.
“Your Majesty, someone like you is the best—noble and unsullied, elegant as jade and orchids, with unparalleled character. I think every part of you is beautiful.”
Xiangyi was sweet-talking again. Feng Jue knew she was coaxing him, but his heart felt as if it were soaking in warm water, emitting warmth strand by strand. As he turned his head, he met her direct gaze and suddenly felt flustered, his breathing growing slightly rapid.
“You and your sweet words,” he said, reaching out to lightly flick her forehead, pushing her slightly away from him.
Zheng Xiangyi covered her forehead with a soft “Ouch!” and without thinking, blurted out, “How do you know my words are sweet?”
You’ve never tasted them yourself!
As soon as this thought flashed through her mind, Zheng Xiangyi’s face flushed crimson. She quickly covered her burning cheeks with both hands, wishing she could find a crack in the ground to hide in.
What messy thoughts was she having? Fortunately, she hadn’t spoken them aloud, or His Majesty would surely have teased her to death.
But… Her eyes couldn’t help but sneak a glance at his lips. Your Majesty’s lips looked beautiful, like flower petals, though their color was somewhat pale.
When she was little, Your Majesty had kissed her before—though only on the forehead—but that gentle feeling remained unforgettable, warm like an intoxicating dream.
Now that she was grown, Your Majesty could no longer treat her as he had in the past.
Feng Jue smiled faintly. “I am already past thirty. How could I possibly match what you described?”
In the past, Feng Jue had never paid much attention to his appearance. As an emperor, no one dared to comment on his looks. The first thing people noticed about him was always his imposing presence, after which they would lower their heads, not daring to look directly.
Only Xiangyi was bold enough to openly critique his appearance to his face. And instead of being angry, he felt a secret delight.
He silently told himself: No elder would dislike leaving a good impression in their child’s heart, trying to suppress that untimely flutter in his heart.
Zheng Xiangyi smiled brilliantly. “But I like Your Majesty. No matter how old you are, I will always like you.”
A faint flicker stirred deep within Feng Jue’s eyes before quietly subsiding. Xiangyi’s meaning should be that she admires him like a father. Even if he grew old and lost his looks, she would never look down on him.
This was Xiangyi’s filial piety toward him.
So he felt comforted again, affectionately ruffling the top of her head.
Zheng Xiangyi unconsciously nuzzled into his palm like a cat, almost as if she had grown a tail to wrap around his arm.
Looking at her endearing manner, he spoke earnestly, imparting careful advice: “My Xiangyi is noble and precious, as beautiful as a celestial being. Ordinary gentlemen are not worthy of you. Xiangyi must have high standards when looking at people. Do not let yourself be easily deceived.”
Zheng Xiangyi blinked lightly, her long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings. “I never thought about getting married, and who in this world could compare to Your Majesty?”
“If I were to marry, I would marry someone truly one-of-a-kind in this world,” she said, her eyes bright, her smile radiant. “He must have power and status, looks and talent, and a heart that loves me, never letting me suffer any grievances.”
Feng Jue fell silent for a moment after hearing her conditions, then suddenly sighed. “Is Xiangyi perhaps thinking of marrying into the imperial family?”
Xiangyi was already a princess he had personally enfeoffed. Unless it was a member of the imperial family, who else could have greater status than her?
Zheng Xiangyi tilted her head and asked, “Does Your Majesty not want me to marry into the imperial family?” This was a question she never had the chance to ask in her past life.
Feng Jue gently tucked her stray hair behind her ear, though his voice carried a slight chill.
“Xiangyi, being a daughter of the imperial family is always happier than being a woman of the imperial family.”
Zheng Xiangyi pressed further. “Is it the same for Your Majesty as well?”
“Yes,” Feng Jue replied with a faint, cool smile. “I hope you will forever remain a daughter of the imperial family.”