“How can you judge people by their looks?” Feng Jue said this, but inwardly he thought of the previously compiled list, unhesitatingly discarding those with slightly inferior appearances.
Zheng Xiangyi defended herself. “How is this judging by looks? Everyone appreciates beauty. When Feng Yue chooses a consort, the first thing she looks at is the face. I am Your Majesty’s favorite Junzhu; naturally, I can’t fall behind others.”
Feng Jue sighed. “If you were my biological daughter like Feng Yue, I would actually be much more at ease.”
No matter which prince succeeded to the throne, Feng Yue would remain the sole Grand Princess, still able to live freely and unrestrained. But Xiangyi wasn’t of royal blood. After he was gone, would those imperial relatives still hold her in regard? Just listening to the Yang descendant’s words earlier gave an idea of the court’s attitude towards Xiangyi.
Perhaps he should teach Xiangyi to learn restraint and forbearance, as he had done after his mother passed away in his childhood. Yet, whenever he met Xiangyi’s bright eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to teach her harshly.
Xiangyi should be cherished in the palm of his hand for a lifetime, forever willful and radiant, willful and unrestrained. It took him ten years to personally nurture this flower—why should he let her wither away in someone else’s hands?
Zheng Xiangyi lightly sighed. “Then I suppose I have no fortune to be Your Majesty’s biological daughter in this life.”
Being his daughter would be so wonderful—rightfully enjoying his favor, staying by his side forever without leaving. She was almost jealous to death of Feng Yue. A Junzhu’s title truly wasn’t as prestigious as a Princess’s.
Next life. Next life, she must be reincarnated as his daughter and raised by his hands once more.
After sitting briefly in the bamboo hut, the two walked together toward the Sanqing Hall. Inside, incense smoke was abundant. Upon entering, they were met with a faceful of smoke, the air thick with the scent of incense.
Besides dignitaries and nobles, many common folk also came here to offer incense, their faces full of piety as they knelt on prayer mats, bowing their heads to the massive statues of the Three Pure Ones, murmuring prayers.
Some prayed for marriage, some for wealth, some for power—everyone had desires.
Zheng Xiangyi also took a stick of incense, bowed three times to the statues, closed her eyes, and made a wish in her heart.
I hope in my next life, I can become the person closest to Your Majesty, never to part for all eternity.
When she opened her eyes, the massive statue seemed to look down upon her. Its benevolent eyes met hers, as if saying, “I heard you. Rest assured.”
Zheng Xiangyi pursed her lips and smiled. Just now, she had actually wanted to wish to be reincarnated as His Majesty’s daughter. But suddenly she felt being just a daughter wasn’t intimate enough with him. Feng Yue was His Majesty’s only daughter, yet she wasn’t truly close to him. His Majesty gave Feng Yue all the honor a princess deserved, yet he didn’t give her the care of a father.
Zheng Xiangyi was greedy. She only wanted to become the most important person in His Majesty’s heart, no matter what identity she held by his side.
“What wish did Xiangyi make just now?” Feng Jue stood beside her, posture upright and handsome as a pine, his presence particularly outstanding in the hall.
When he looked up at the three statues, his gaze was calm, unlike the reverence and piety in others’ eyes, even hinting at a trace of arrogance. Matters of gods and spirits were unpredictable. Compared to praying to gods and Buddhas, he believed more in the imperial seal in his hand, controlling the people, commanding the world—all within his grasp.
Zheng Xiangyi stood very close to him. Amid the overwhelming incense smoke, she caught the unique, fresh scent on him, reminding her of a mountain forest after new rain, calming her heart.
“If you say a wish out loud, it won’t come true.”
She wouldn’t tell His Majesty. Let him guess for himself.
Zheng Xiangyi was growing increasingly fond of watching his calm, indifferent expression change because of her—every frown, every smile stirred by her. She thought, she truly was a bad child. Before he even grew old, she already wanted to climb over his head.
To her playful answer, Feng Jue responded with helpless indulgence. He also took three sticks of incense, bowed slightly to the statues, and upon straightening, his expression was solemn:
“Then I, Feng Jue, pray that my Xiangyi’s every wish is fulfilled, every desire realized.”
His tone wasn’t like praying to gods; instead, it resembled issuing a command.
Zheng Xiangyi recalled his demeanor in court. In his eyes, these lofty statues were no different from the ministers in court.
At that moment, she suddenly wanted to know: What did the world look like in His Majesty’s eyes? In his eyes, how was she different from everyone else?
In the past, Zheng Xiangyi had always looked up at him from within his embrace, relying on him as a matter of course. But now, thinking about it, she truly didn’t know why His Majesty had treated her differently back then. When she first entered the palace, she cried a lot and didn’t know how to act spoiled like ordinary children. Yet His Majesty had taken a liking to her at first sight, treating her better than his own biological children.
Was this fate? Zheng Xiangyi nodded affirmatively in her heart. Yes, she and His Majesty must be bound by fate cultivated over three lifetimes.
As she was thinking this, a delicate, charming moan, melodious and moving as an oriole’s song, sounded beside her.
“Oh!” The beauty carrying a fragrant breeze seemed to suddenly twist her ankle as she passed by, swaying like a weak willow as she fell toward Feng Jue’s arms.
Feng Jue’s brows furrowed slightly. He took a step back without any intention of extending a hand.
Seeing the beauty about to fall to the ground, Zheng Xiangyi reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, firmly catching her in her own embrace. The impact made Zheng Xiangyi’s expression twist slightly.
The beauty slowly opened her eyes, a flicker of disappointment passing through them as she saw Zheng Xiangyi’s face.
Zheng Xiangyi gritted her teeth. “Get up quickly. Are you trying to crush this Junzhu to death?”
The beauty let out a delicate moan, slowly rising from her embrace, timidly lifting her lashes to steal a glance at the man beside Zheng Xiangyi before gracefully curtsying to her.
“This humble one pays respects to the Junzhu.”
The commotion drew the surrounding people’s attention. Their gazes towards Zheng Xiangyi held awe, and many even took a few steps back to keep their distance.
The great name of the De Yi Junzhu was known throughout the land. Some also recognized His Majesty beside her, but no one dared to speak up first.
The location of the literati gathering was quite a distance from here, and the incident at the literary meeting hadn’t yet spread. Only a few ladies and young misses in the hall had come over from the literary gathering.
Zheng Xiangyi withdrew her hand, appraising the woman with a critical eye. Her looks weren’t bad, barely deserving of being called delicate and refined. However, she wore no extravagant adornments, and her dress style seemed somewhat outdated.
It seemed her background wasn’t very good, which explained why she would resort to such a clumsy trick to secure her future.
Zheng Xiangyi felt somewhat displeased, and her tone turned fierce. “You recognize this Junzhu, yet you still dare to bump into me?”
The woman’s eyelashes trembled, tears welling in her eyes. “This humble one has been frail since childhood. It wasn’t intentional to offend the Junzhu. I beg the Junzhu’s mercy.” Her pitiful posture resembled a delicate white flower swaying in the wind.
The more Zheng Xiangyi looked at that face, the more familiar it seemed—remarkably similar to the noble consort Feng Yu had taken in her past life. Equally fragile and easy to bully, equally detestable.
Seeing the woman still daring to cast shy, timid glances towards His Majesty, Zheng Xiangyi’s anger flared even more.
What a literary gathering, what a matchmaking event! She hadn’t found any suitable match for herself, yet His Majesty had caught someone’s eye, even had a beauty throwing herself into his arms.
“If you’re frail, take more medicine. Don’t always wander about.” Zheng Xiangyi looked at the woman’s delicate frame and snorted lightly. “What if you get blown over by the wind? No one else will be as kind-hearted as this Junzhu to catch you.”
His Majesty wasn’t one fond of beauty. For many years, he hadn’t visited the rear palace. The consorts had long given up on competing for favor, contentedly living on their stipends, eating, drinking, and amusing themselves, becoming like sisters.
Zheng Xiangyi usually kept a peaceful distance from them and didn’t want anyone else entering to disrupt this tranquility. She glanced at His Majesty, seeing him with lowered eyes, not sparing a single glance for this woman, which slightly eased the anger in her heart.
The woman stood there awkwardly, biting her lip tightly without speaking.
Zheng Xiangyi couldn’t be bothered to argue further and magnanimously waved her hand. “Forget it. This Junzhu is in a good mood today and won’t pursue this. Next time, watch where you’re going. Don’t bump into people again.”
With so many people around, there was no need to publicly expose her intentions. After all, His Majesty hadn’t taken a liking to her. If she made a scene, it would only stir up gossip, which wouldn’t be good for anyone’s reputation.
She absolutely didn’t want to hear His Majesty’s name linked with any romantic scandal. Those literati’s pens loved to fabricate rumors; in later generations, such stories might even be considered real history.
Zheng Xiangyi shot a final sidelong glance at her, raised her head, and strode past her out of the Sanqing Hall.
Feng Jue followed her out, maintaining a step’s distance, his eyes silently following her until she suddenly stopped.
Zheng Xiangyi turned around, the inexplicable anger from earlier still lingering. She glared at him. “Your Majesty said today you brought me to choose a match. How come you didn’t expect to be noticed yourself? Was that young lady just now pretty? Does Your Majesty like her?”
Looking at his handsome face, his outstanding presence, and his status as the Emperor ruling the land—no wonder the young lady had risked throwing herself into his arms.
She couldn’t help but think: His Majesty always claimed he was old earlier. That young lady was about her age, young enough to be his daughter. If he actually took her as a consort, that would truly be shameless for an old man.
Seeing her fierce, interrogative posture, Feng Jue’s eyes flickered slightly. For some reason, a sour, swelling emotion rose in his chest, even mixed with a secretive joy.
The corner of his lips lifted slightly. “I didn’t look at her once.”
“So, does Your Majesty regret it now, for not catching that young lady earlier?” Zheng Xiangyi placed her hands on her hips, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed with faint anger.
Feng Jue reached out and ruffled her hair, chuckling softly. “What nonsense are you saying?”
If he truly liked her, he wouldn’t have ignored her earlier. When he loved anyone, he always did so openly and without concealment, just as with Xiangyi—he wished to give her supreme honor, letting the whole world know how much he cherished her.
Zheng Xiangyi’s tone was sour. “That young lady is quite pretty. Although not as beautiful as me, does Your Majesty really have no interest at all?”
Feng Jue comforted her. “Don’t worry. I have no interest in romantic love. No one will ever surpass you.”
Zheng Xiangyi should have been happy hearing this, but for some reason, she couldn’t smile. Her chest felt sour and astringent, as if blocked by something.
She sullenly buried her face in his chest. “Will Your Majesty truly never fall in love with anyone?”
Feng Jue was silent for a moment, then raised his hand to gently stroke the back of her neck. “Xiangyi, don’t overthink it.”
Zheng Xiangyi bit her lip tightly. She didn’t want to overthink either, but a part of her heart suddenly felt empty and unsatisfied.
His Majesty was always gentle and indulgent with her, like an elder looking at a naive child. But she also wanted him to go mad and lose control for her, to be frenzied and reckless for her, to live and die for her.
She remembered her past life, the moment he learned of her illicit affair with Feng Yu—the first time his emotions had spiraled out of control. That version of His Majesty had frightened her a little, yet she couldn’t help feeling satisfied. Because only in that moment when he lost control for her did she feel she had finally grasped him completely, finally certain it wasn’t that she couldn’t leave His Majesty, but that His Majesty couldn’t leave her.
Zheng Xiangyi rested her forehead against his chest, her eyes gradually reddening and moistening. She just wanted His Majesty to love her, to love her most, to love only her, to love her forever.
Being just his daughter wasn’t enough at all, wasn’t satisfying at all. Without that blood connection, she could never feel at ease.
The image of that woman throwing herself into his arms earlier resurfaced in her mind. Zheng Xiangyi couldn’t help but bite her lip tightly. Why could others, but not her?
She wanted to be closer to His Majesty, in whatever identity possible—whether as his daughter or as his woman.
Zheng Xiangyi was startled by this sudden thought that had popped into her mind.