Zheng Xiangyi happily sat down beside him, dissatisfied with Ruowei’s service, and personally picked up the teapot. Feng Jue, afraid the tea would scald her, quickly pressed her hand and took over himself.
Feeling the strong pressure on her hand, Zheng Xiangyi reluctantly let go of the teapot. He took it over seamlessly, filled two cups with hot tea, pushed one towards her, and advised, “Be careful, don’t get scalded.”
Zheng Xiangyi’s heart swelled with joy, yet there was a subtle displeasure at being treated like a child. She said, “Your Majesty, I’ve already had my coming-of-age ceremony.”
Which girl who’s already had her ceremony still gets coaxed like this by an elder? In His Majesty’s heart, she might still be a little girl with her hair in double buns.
Feng Jue paused, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “My fault. I forgot Xiangyi is already a young lady.”
Zheng Xiangyi looked at his handsome face and thought, actually, the age difference between His Majesty and her isn’t that big, is it? In the past, when she looked much younger, it wasn’t worth mentioning. But now, she’s in the prime of her youth, and His Majesty shows no sign of aging. If they walked down the street together, perhaps more people would mistake them for siblings rather than uncle and niece with an eighteen-year age gap.
According to the family hierarchy from the Empress Dowager’s side, she should call him maternal uncle. The Empress Dowager had taught her to address him that way, but deep down, she always felt a bit resistant.
“Why are you spacing out again?” Feng Jue worriedly touched her forehead and asked softly, “Didn’t sleep well last night?”
Zheng Xiangyi snapped back to reality and nodded instinctively. “Yes.”
“I still prefer living in the palace. It’s too quiet here.” She couldn’t help complaining, even looking back at him with a hint of grievance. “The bedding isn’t as soft as in the palace, the incense doesn’t smell as good either. I don’t want to live here anymore.”
This was, of course, an excuse. The place His Majesty personally ordered to be decorated had practically the same standards as the palace. But he wasn’t here. She couldn’t wait for him in Zichen Hall every day after he finished court. The feeling was just different.
Feng Jue, however, didn’t doubt her in the slightest, only reflecting on whether he had overlooked something in his arrangements, causing her distress. He nodded slightly, his gaze filled with even more affection. “Then move back to the palace first. This villa can simply be a place for rest and leisure.”
Zheng Xiangyi’s displeasure turned to a smile. “Your Majesty, can’t bear to part with me either, right?”
Feng Jue lowered his eyes slightly, smiling without denying it. He indeed missed Xiangyi a little. He was used to her waiting for him in Zichen Hall every day after court, coquettishly asking him to teach her calligraphy and painting, occasionally helping him grind ink or add incense when she was in the mood. Without her presence, the vast palace suddenly felt desolate.
He recalled yesterday’s events. When Xiangyi was around, he could always control himself well, never venting his anger arbitrarily no matter how furious he was. After the late Emperor passed away, there had been a period of turmoil. After ascending the throne, he swiftly executed a group of ministers and filled the court with his own people. Most of the time since then had been spent recuperating and revitalizing, rarely experiencing such pronounced emotional fluctuations.
As an emperor, showing emotions openly is a major taboo. Perhaps it was because Xiangyi had been by his side for so long that he always restrained himself to play the role of a loving father. Once she left, those pent-up emotions could no longer be hidden.
“Your Majesty…” Zheng Xiangyi hugged his arm, insisting he admit it himself. “You can’t bear to part with me, that’s why you came out of the palace to see me, right?”
Feng Jue slightly turned his face away, avoiding her burning gaze. After all, he was the emperor and much older than Xiangyi. How could he admit that he, like an indecisive old father, couldn’t bear to let his grown-up child leave him?
Zheng Xiangyi took it as his silent agreement. Propping her chin on her hand, she smiled at him brightly. “Your Majesty, just say it if you can’t bear it. I won’t leave you.”
Feng Jue picked up his tea, hiding the smile at the corner of his lips.
“Did Your Majesty like the Wei Purple peony I sent yesterday?” Zheng Xiangyi asked.
Speaking of this, Feng Jue sighed. “Such a beautiful flower, why not keep it for yourself to admire? Transplanting it into a pot must have taken considerable effort.”
“I didn’t have to do it myself.” Zheng Xiangyi only gave the orders; digging up soil and roots were tasks for the young eunuchs. “Besides, I just wanted you to see it.”
Feng Jue had to admit, seeing Xiangyi’s unapologetic expression made him somewhat happy.
Zheng Xiangyi then enthusiastically told him about the flower-viewing banquet she planned to host next month, saying the invitations were already written. After finishing, she looked up at him with sparkling eyes, waiting for his praise.
Feng Jue generously praised her, boasting about her intelligence, wisdom, virtue, and gentleness—truly grown into a young lady.
Zheng Xiangyi thought to herself, what’s this compared to before? In her previous life, she had managed Feng Yu’s harem in an orderly manner. During festive banquets, she never made any mistakes.
After all, she was a qualified empress, wasn’t she? Feng Yu truly had no taste.
With both of them having left the palace, it was only natural to take a walk around the city. Zheng Xiangyi changed into a simple dress and happily took his arm. She remembered one year during a festival when he had carried her out to play. They had weaved through crowded streets and alleys, watching the dragon and lion dances all night.
Although it wasn’t a festival now, the area near the capital was still bustling and prosperous. Street vendors kept calling out their wares; there were magicians, acrobats, and merchant caravans from distant lands, filling the streets with a bustling crowd.
Zheng Xiangyi looked at this scene of a flourishing age and proudly straightened her chest. This was the land under His Majesty’s rule. The people passing by her were all His Majesty’s subjects.
Feng Jue looked at the smiling faces of the commoners and thought again of the refugees in Cangzhou. Having already suffered disasters and with their fields seized, how many had lost their lives?
Those state parasites truly deserved death by a thousand cuts.
Zheng Xiangyi didn’t care much for the jewelry and jade items sold at the small stalls, but she had a special fondness for local snacks, especially candied hawthorns.
Feng Jue never allowed her to eat too much of these sweet things. Handing the candied hawthorn stick to her, he still worried, “One stick is enough. Be careful of your toothache.”
Zheng Xiangyi smiled, revealing clean, bright teeth. “Don’t worry, my teeth are perfectly fine now.”
Feng Jue watched her eat the candied hawthorns one by one, remembering a funny story from her childhood. “I recall, the year you turned six and were teething, once you ate a candied hawthorn and knocked out a tooth.”
Then she had thrown herself into his arms and cried for a long time, asking if she was going to become ugly and if her tooth would never grow back. He was both amused and exasperated, holding her and coaxing her for a long time, swearing that her teeth would definitely grow back fine before she finally calmed down.
His Xiangyi had always been a girl who loved beauty since childhood.
“How do you remember so clearly?” Zheng Xiangyi had almost forgotten this incident herself, only vaguely recalling it when he mentioned it. “I must have given you a lot of headaches when I was little.”
“A bit of headache, yes.” Shortly after the Empress Dowager passed away, Feng Jue took on this delicate and tender little girl. Every time she cried, he would panic and fluster. Looking back now, he felt he hadn’t been careful enough with Xiangyi back then. So, he lovingly patted her head. “But Xiangyi is a good girl, very easy to coax.”
Zheng Xiangyi proudly raised her chin. “Of course.”
She was the most obedient child in the palace. Except for that period in her previous life when she was infatuated with Feng Yu, she had always been very obedient to him.
The street was too crowded. Afraid she might be bumped by pedestrians, Feng Jue took her hand and moved aside. He walked slightly ahead, shielding her from the oncoming flow of people.
Today’s play at the entertainment quarter was “Red-Maned Steed.” By the time they arrived, the good seats in the front were mostly taken, so they had to stand in the back with a crowd of commoners.
The opera was at the part where Wang Baochuan, to marry Xue Pinggui, pledged three times with her father, the prime minister, severing their father-daughter relationship. Zheng Xiangyi immediately thought of herself and guiltily glanced at the person beside her.
In her previous life, although she didn’t pledge three times with His Majesty, she did many outrageous things, such as kneeling outside his door for over two hours, forcing him to agree to her marriage with Feng Yu.
“Hmm?” Sensing her gaze, Feng Jue lowered his eyes and asked, “What’s wrong? Is this part not sung well?”
Zheng Xiangyi tugged at his sleeve and cautiously asked, “If… I were Wang Baochuan, and you were her father Wang Yun, what would you do with such an unfilial daughter?”
Feng Jue thought for a moment. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have given her the chance to meet Xue Pinggui in the first place.”
Zheng Xiangyi lowered her eyelashes. But she couldn’t avoid Feng Yu. At least Xue Pinggui was a prince who had fallen among the commoners. Feng Yu was one who genuinely grew up with her in the palace, his own biological son.
“What if I, like Wang Baochuan, entered a marriage you didn’t approve of, and later regretted it? Would you still forgive me?”
Feng Jue suddenly stared at her face. After a long time, he said, “Xiangyi, I don’t want such a day to come.”
His expression was very serious, reminding Zheng Xiangyi of when her affair with Feng Yu was exposed in her previous life—he had looked at her the same way.
“It won’t happen again.” Zheng Xiangyi shook her head. “There won’t be such a day again.”
Feng Jue then smiled satisfactorily. He would find Xiangyi a good marriage. Character, literary talent, appearance, family background—all must pass his scrutiny.
As for the Marquis of Pingyang, the overbearing Emperor completely disregarded this biological father of Xiangyi. The Emperor had even thought that once the Marquis of Pingyang died, he could rightfully inherit his daughter.
When the opera ended, a crowd rushed toward the exit, nearly scattering Zheng Xiangyi. Feng Jue, regardless of the propriety between men and women, firmly clasped her shoulder with one hand, pressing her tightly against his chest.
He was tall and imposing. Though dressed modestly, his aura was commanding and outstanding. People passing by more or less instinctively avoided him.
Finally, they emerged from the entertainment quarter. Zheng Xiangyi, buried in his embrace, secretly sighed in relief. Looking up, she met his sharply defined jawline, and her cheeks flushed unconsciously.
It seemed she rarely saw His Majesty from this angle. In the past, she was too young; he always looked down at her with lowered eyes. When she grew a bit older, he began silently maintaining a certain distance from her.
After all, she wasn’t his biological daughter. Besides, even real fathers and daughters seldom had such closeness.
Zheng Xiangyi thought, if she hadn’t been reborn, if she hadn’t cried and gone to him, would he have remained like every father with a grown daughter, forever keeping that intimate yet distanced relationship with her?
I want to stay in His Majesty’s embrace forever. This thought naturally surfaced in Zheng Xiangyi’s mind.
“Not hurt, are you?” Seeing her flushed face, Feng Jue worriedly reached out to touch her forehead.
Zheng Xiangyi shook her head blankly, silently staring at his face. Feng Jue casually brushed aside the hair on her forehead, but as he was about to withdraw his hand, he suddenly paused.
When had Xiangyi grown so tall? The tender child who used to only reach his waist had now unknowingly grown to his chest.
So, his Xiangyi had truly grown up.
A new feeling rose in his heart, neither painful nor itchy, yet impossible to ignore.
But the next moment, a voice brought him back.
“Xiangyi?”
Zheng Xiangyi looked toward the source of the voice. A middle-aged man in brocade robes, holding a five- or six-year-old girl in his arms, was staring at them in disbelief.
She looked at him, then turned to look at His Majesty, sighing inwardly: What a coincidence. Out having fun with my godfather, and I bump into my biological father.