Zheng Xiangyi opened her eyes, her head throbbing with pain. The sight that met her was the bright yellow canopy of a bed. Curtains hung low on all sides, the light was dim, and it was so quiet not a single sound could be heard.
Supporting her forehead, she sat up, staring blankly at the patterns of white cranes and auspicious clouds on the bed curtains. She was all too familiar with these imperial, exclusive decorations. But she had clearly burned herself in the Phoenix Pavilion Palace. Had Feng Yu saved her?
That scoundrel! Who asked him to save her!
Zheng Xiangyi bit her lower lip hard. She would rather have perished in the flames than live to see his affectionate intimacy with the Noble Consort.
She had voluntarily stepped aside for the Noble Consort. Shouldn’t Feng Yu have clapped his hands in approval? Why save her at all?
Zheng Xiangyi clenched the quilt corner. After all, she was a princess personally enfeoffed by the late Emperor. In the past, her mind had been muddled, ready to die for a man. But now that Feng Yu had betrayed her, she was absolutely determined not to look back.
Moreover… His Majesty was still waiting for her in the underworld! It was so cold down there, and his health hadn’t been strong. How could he bear it alone?
She abruptly pulled open the bed curtains, and blinding light poured in.
“How could this be…” Zheng Xiangyi’s pupils constricted sharply. She stared fixedly at the framed calligraphy piece “A Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains” hanging on the wall not far away. The brushstrokes were bold and unrestrained—precisely the handwriting she had pestered the late Emperor to teach her stroke by stroke when she was young.
But this piece… shouldn’t it have been buried with him in his imperial tomb long ago? How dare Feng Yu, that scoundrel… how dare he dig up his tomb, disturbing his peace even in death?
Rage burned in her chest. In that instant, Zheng Xiangyi truly wished she could kill Feng Yu with her own hands.
“Princess?” A careful knock sounded at the door.
Zheng Xiangyi was still lost in her anger and didn’t respond for a long time. After a while, the door was gently pushed open. Muqin, seeing she was already sitting up in bed, quickly beckoned two young palace maids carrying basins to enter and attend to her.
“Muqin?” Zheng Xiangyi stared blankly at that familiar, smooth, fair face. “How… how did you become so much younger overnight?”
Muqin expertly helped her dress. “Princess drank too much wine yesterday. Does your head still hurt? Should I have the imperial kitchen prepare another bowl of sobering soup?”
Having been with her for so long, Zheng Xiangyi instinctively raised her arms to cooperate. Only after putting on the clothes did she belatedly recall how Muqin had addressed her.
“You called me ‘Princess’?”
A look of confusion appeared on Muqin’s face. “Naturally, you are the Princess.”
Yes, she was Princess Deyi, personally enfeoffed by the late Emperor. Zheng Xiangyi’s gaze held a trace of nostalgia. Before becoming Feng Yu’s Empress, she had been called “Princess” for ten years. It was just a title she hadn’t heard in a long time. If she could do it over, she would gladly remain Princess Deyi for a lifetime.
She asked casually, “Where is Feng Yu?”
Muqin’s hands paused. “Does the Princess wish to see the Second Prince? At this hour, the Second Prince should still be in Chonghua Palace attending lessons. Shall this servant send someone to inquire?”
Zheng Xiangyi whirled her head around. “What did you call him… Second Prince?”
She looked at Muqin’s much younger face, then turned her gaze to the “A Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains” calligraphy on the wall. An absurd thought rose in her mind, making her feel dizzy and disoriented.
Was this a dream, or was it real?
“Muqin,” she grabbed Muqin’s hand, using great effort to control her trembling voice, “is the current era… the Jingyuan period?”
Muqin smiled. “How could the Princess forget even this? This year is precisely the eighteenth year of Jingyuan.”
The eighteenth year of Jingyuan? Zheng Xiangyi slowly released her hand, swaying as she slumped into the sandalwood chair.
How could it be the eighteenth year of Jingyuan? That year, she had just come of age. And the late Emperor… no… His Majesty… His Majesty was still alive and well!
Dazed, she turned to look in the mirror. Reflected there was a young, fresh, vibrant face, like a crabapple blossom in early spring. She wanted to laugh, but for some reason, tears fell first.
“Princess, what’s wrong?” Muqin asked anxiously.
“His Majesty…” Zheng Xiangyi could no longer hear the outside world. Her mind was filled only with that one face, that one voice. “I want to see him… I want to see him!”
“His Majesty is currently holding court in the front hall. Perhaps the Princess should have breakfast first before going?”
“No need.” Not waiting for Muqin to order the meal, Zheng Xiangyi, unable to wait a moment longer, rushed out, leaving Muqin and the maids staring at each other in bewilderment.
Holding up her skirt, Zheng Xiangyi floated, as if in a dream, all the way to the study in the front hall of the Purple Heaven Hall. Her heart was beating so fast it felt ready to leap from her chest.
Eunuch Gui, at the entrance, saw her from afar and came forward with a beaming smile. “Ah, the Princess is awake?”
He looked somewhat puzzled at her red-rimmed eyes, wondering who had upset this little ancestor again.
“…Eunuch Gui?” Zheng Xiangyi had been half-believing, half-doubting until she saw his face, which finally gave her a sense of reality.
Eunuch Gui was all solicitude. “His Majesty is inside handling official matters. Perhaps the Princess would like to sit first? Allow this servant to announce you?”
Zheng Xiangyi turned her gaze to the study, separated by just one door. Originally, she had been desperately longing to see that person. But now that he was so close, she suddenly felt a pang of fear.
Would he blame her? Blame her for disobeying, insisting on marrying Feng Yu? Blame her for angering him until he fell ill?
Once again, his eyes from his deathbed appeared before her:
“Xiangyi, if you insist on marrying him, will you regret it?”
Zheng Xiangyi suddenly covered her face and squatted down, tears streaming through her fingers.
She regretted it!
Eunuch Gui was flustered at the sight. He fumbled out a handkerchief, trying to console her. “Oh dear, which blind fool has angered you?”
Hearing his concerned voice, the feelings of grievance and fear in Zheng Xiangyi’s heart only intensified. Only His Majesty… only those around His Majesty would care for her like this.
She cried even louder, her body trembling uncontrollably.
Eunuch Gui was frantic. Goodness, look how wronged the Princess was. Just which scoundrel had made her cry like this?
The door suddenly creaked open from the inside. Zheng Xiangyi, crying hard with her head buried, felt a tall figure squat down before her. Cool fingers gently cupped her face.
“Why are you crying so hard?” The man’s tone held a hint of helplessness.
Zheng Xiangyi raised her head in a daze. Tears blurred her vision; through the watery haze, she couldn’t clearly see the face she had longed for day and night.
Feng Jue saw her wide-open eyes, looking uncharacteristically dumbfounded and silly. He felt both helpless and heartache as he gently wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with his thumb.
“In this palace, who would dare bully you?”
Zheng Xiangyi instinctively blinked, causing teardrops to roll down her cheeks. She leaned into his embrace, sniffling pitifully as she complained in a small voice, “After you left, they all bullied me!”
Feng Yu bullied her, the Noble Consort bullied her, even a eunuch like Guo Yue dared to disregard her.
Feng Jue held her, then glanced up. Eunuch Gui hastily retreated to the side.
“Don’t cry anymore. What a big girl you are, still crying like a child.” Feng Jue lightly patted her trembling back, stroke by stroke, as if soothing a little girl.
“I want to cry!” Zheng Xiangyi sniffled, naturally curling into him to act spoiled, greedily inhaling the clean scent from his robes.
Feng Jue knew she was delicate and couldn’t bear the slightest grievance. He had spoiled this child rotten.
In the past, he had been too young and didn’t know how to properly raise a child. His own children were raised by their mothers, and he rarely intervened. Only Xiangyi had been by his side, raised by his own hand from the start.
He found it somewhat troubling. What would happen when Xiangyi married in the future? What man could possibly spoil her like this? Yet he had never thought to correct her little temper. There was no reason for the child he had doted on since childhood to grow up and be sent into another’s hands to suffer wrongs.
As for others, cherishing Xiangyi was simply their duty.
Seeing that Xiangyi was clinging to his embrace and unwilling to get up, he sighed softly in helplessness and had no choice but to pick her up.
Once standing, he frowned slightly. After Xiangyi grew up, he had actually not been this physically close to her for a long time, as she was now a grown young lady who had come of age. But why was Xiangyi so light? It seemed she hadn’t changed at all compared to when she was little.
Zheng Xiangyi clung to his neck, leaning against him, listening to the steady heartbeat in his chest. Her tense, anxious emotions gradually calmed down.
She knew now. He wouldn’t blame her. Even though she had done so many wrong things, he had only been disappointed in her, but never blamed her.
Zheng Xiangyi had a biological father, but in her heart, His Majesty was her true father—the one who would love her as always no matter what she did.
How could she have lost such a wonderful His Majesty?
After entering the room, Feng Jue wanted to set her down, but Xiangyi still refused to let go, like a child throwing a tantrum. He stroked her soft hair, and Xiangyi habitually nuzzled into his palm, leaving him utterly helpless.
“Good girl, let go now.” Feng Jue would never actively push her away, but it wasn’t quite proper for Xiangyi to keep hanging onto him like this.
“Oh…” Zheng Xiangyi slowly released her hands but still looked up at him with a pitiful expression.
Feng Jue raised a hand to cover his lips, chuckling softly. For some reason, Zheng Xiangyi slowly blushed.
She knew clinging to him like this wasn’t quite right. No grown young lady should be so clingy. But she felt so wronged; she only wanted him to hold her, to comfort her. After all, after he left, she had suffered so much.
Zheng Xiangyi had so many things she wanted to tell him. Yet, looking up into his eyes, she suddenly felt all those hardships were nothing. At least in this lifetime, she would never leave him again.
She gazed at his face almost obsessively. Indeed, no matter how much Feng Yu resembled him, in reality, he couldn’t compare at all.
His complexion was somewhat pale, his features refined and elegant like ink-wash painting. He seemed slightly thin, yet his arms had been steady and strong when he lifted her. That grace, polished by time and experience, was something no other man in the world could match.
She didn’t understand how her past self, facing such a face every day, could have been so madly in love with Feng Yu.
Feng Jue finished tidying the memorials on the desk. Turning back and seeing her still lost in thought, he couldn’t help but reach out and gently tap her forehead.
“Good girl, time to wake up.”
Yes, time to wake up.
Zheng Xiangyi smiled, calling out to him sweetly, “Your Majesty!”