He collapsed onto the couch like a man without bones, staring up at the ceiling beams. “Lan Ruo, tell me, do you think he is sick? I went there with good intentions to deliver soup, and he kicks me out as soon as he finishes it. What do you call that? Crossing the bridge and burning it? Killing the donkey after it has finished its work on the mill?”
Lan Ruo opened her mouth, wanting to say, “Your Ladyship, you must not speak of His Majesty that way.”
However, seeing Fang Zhiyan’s expression, which was a mix of grievance and indignation, she swallowed her words. She had followed Fang Zhiyan for a long time, but she had never seen him act quite like this.
“Your Ladyship, what did you say to His Majesty?”
Fang Zhiyan recounted the previous conversation. In truth, he felt something was slightly off, but he could not put his finger on what it was. He looked at Lan Ruo, his gaze filled with uncertainty. “Did I say something wrong?”
Lan Ruo bit her lip. A bold thought crossed her mind, but it was so crazy she did not dare voice it. After deliberating for a long time, she managed only one sentence: “Could it be that His Majesty dislikes others interfering in his private affairs?”
“I did not want to interfere,” Fang Zhiyan said helplessly. “But the Empress Dowager has already stepped in. He is the Emperor, and there are so many concubines in the harem; he has to spread his favor eventually, right? I was just advising him to visit others more often. Does that not show how magnanimous I am?”
Lan Ruo found herself unable to argue. It seemed that no one was technically in the wrong.
Fang Zhiyan stood up and paced the room twice, feeling as though he were being pricked by needles. “Forget it, forget it.” He waved his hand, his tone laced with spite. “Good intentions are treated like a dog’s lungs. There is a penalty for being considerate of him now. If he is so capable, he should tell the Empress Dowager not to meddle instead of just throwing a long face at me.”
Lan Ruo was startled. She quickly glanced at the door to ensure no one was listening before lowering her voice. “Your Ladyship, please speak softly!”
Fang Zhiyan realized he had misspoken. He sullenly called for someone to let down his hair and help him undress. “Wash up and go to sleep. Tomorrow’s worries are for tomorrow.”
Fang Zhiyan originally thought Xiao Huan’s anger was a fleeting thing. The Son of Heaven managed ten thousand affairs a day; how could he have the energy to hold a grudge against a lowly concubine? Angry today, he would probably forget it after reviewing a few memorials tomorrow, and by the day after, he would return to Chengqian Palace to dine as usual, as if nothing had happened.
That was what he thought.
But one day passed, and Xiao Huan did not come. Two days passed, and Xiao Huan still did not appear.
On the third day, Fang Zhiyan sat on the swing in the courtyard, swaying slowly. He held a local gazetteer but had only managed to flip through three pages. His gaze occasionally drifted toward the gate before snapping back, maintaining an air of perfect composure.
Lan Ruo came out with tea. Seeing him still sitting outside, she could not help but say, “Your Ladyship, the wind is picking up. Let us go inside.”
“It is not cold.” Even as he said it, the tip of Fang Zhiyan’s nose was turning red from the chill. He pulled his neck back into his collar, tightened his cloak, and continued to swing.
Lan Ruo looked at him, then at the gate, looking as though she wanted to speak. Fang Zhiyan noticed her gaze and laughed. “What are you looking at? Is there a flower on my face?”
“No, I was not looking at anything.” Lan Ruo quickly lowered her head.
Fang Zhiyan jumped off the swing and patted his robes, his tone light. “Fine, let us go in. Bring all the good food and drink inside.” He walked a few steps but stopped, asking casually, “By the way, what has His Majesty been busy with these past few days?”
Lan Ruo knew he would ask. “In reply to Your Ladyship: I heard that urgent reports arrived from the border. His Majesty has been discussing matters in Qianqing Palace for several days. He is very busy.”
“Oh.” Fang Zhiyan nodded. He entered the room, took off his cloak, and draped it over a chair. “That sounds quite exhausting.”
And then, there was nothing more. Lan Ruo waited for a while for a follow up, but none came. She could not help but probe, “Your Ladyship, are you not going to see His Majesty?”
Fang Zhiyan was sipping his tea. He looked up at her with an expression that clearly said, “Are you okay?”
“Why should I go see him? Was I not embarrassed enough being kicked out after delivering soup last time? If I go again, would I not just be looking for a bad time?”
“But His Majesty did not exactly kick you out.”
“Enough, enough.” Fang Zhiyan waved her off. He leaned back in his armchair and crossed his legs, his tone leisurely. “Is this not the quiet life we sought from the beginning? It is a perfect time to finish those idle books I never got around to.”
As he spoke, he actually pulled a book from the shelf, flipped through two pages, and tossed it back, feeling bored. Lan Ruo stood aside, watching his heartless demeanor, her heart full of doubt. Was her mistress truly indifferent, or just pretending to be?
Xiao Huan truly seemed to have no intention of returning to Chengqian Palace. Fang Zhiyan’s routine remained unchanged. He ate, drank, swung on his swing, and read his books. In fact, without the social obligation of accompanying Xiao Huan for dinner every night, he felt much more relaxed.
“Lan Ruo, tell me, when His Majesty came every day, I had to keep him company and talk to him. I could not even lie down if I wanted to. It was so tiring.” Fang Zhiyan ate nuts that a servant had peeled for him, his tone light with a sense of relief. “Now it is better. I can sleep whenever I want and lounge on the couch however I like. No one manages me.”
He paused, nudging a plate. “Take these nuts away. They are a bit too hard.”
Lan Ruo glanced at him. No matter how hard they are, they are not as hard as your stubborn mouth.
One afternoon, Fang Zhiyan went for a stroll in the Imperial Garden. He did not actually enjoy the garden; although the flowers were beautiful, there were always people coming and going, greeting him and making polite conversation, which he found irritating.
Lan Ruo had told him that he had been cooped up for half a month and his bones would rust if he did not go out, so he changed his clothes and wandered out slowly.
The Imperial Garden in winter had its own unique charm. Several winter jasmine trees were in bloom, their yellow flowers dotting the branches, sending a faint fragrance through the air. Fang Zhiyan stood under a tree and took a sniff, feeling quite good.
Then, he heard a burst of laughter and chatter behind him.
“Sister, have you heard? His Majesty has not been to Chengqian Palace in half a month.”
“She only has the face of a vixen. In what way can she compare to Consort Shu?”
“Is that not the truth? I heard she boiled some soup and sent it to Qianqing Palace, but the Emperor kicked her out as soon as he drank it. Now the whole palace is laughing at her.”
“Oh my, how bad must her cooking be? A single bowl of soup was enough to drive the Emperor away?”
“Who knows? But then again, Concubine Zhuang has been in the palace for several months. His Majesty went to Chengqian Palace every day, yet her belly shows no sign of movement. Perhaps that is one of the reasons. If it were me, I would have already done something.”
The chatter came to a dead stop the moment they saw Fang Zhiyan.
Two beautifully dressed beauties stood at the end of the path. Their expressions shifted instantly from high spirits to sheer terror, as if they had seen a ghost in broad daylight.
Fang Zhiyan turned around slowly. He was still holding a sprig of winter jasmine he had just plucked from the tree, a half smile playing on his lips.