Chapter Nineteen: “Sanlang, when we have a child one day, you…”
Ling Zhenli had originally wanted to stay a while longer to watch Pei Xuanlin play polo against the Tibetan delegation, but the pain in her hand made her seek out a bedchamber to rest.
The early summer breeze carried the fragrance of flowers into the hall. Ling Zhenli reclined against the soft couch, not daring to touch the split skin at the base of her thumb, and could only gently massage the swelling and redness around her wrist with her fingertips.
“I heard you injured your hand during the polo match.”
With a light clink of the beaded curtain, Xue Haoting appeared in the hall without her knowing when.
Today he wore a deep purple robe that made him look tall and upright like a pine or cypress, yet those eyes carried a hint of frivolity, making him seem even more rakish than usual.
“What are you doing here?”
Ling Zhenli turned her gaze away, deliberately avoiding him. Just as she was about to get up, Xue Haoting strode forward and, without asking, grabbed her arm.
She struggled slightly. Seeing that she was in pain, Xue Haoting released her.
He let out a low chuckle and took a small celadon bottle from his sleeve. “I brought you some medicine. The Imperial Medical Academy’s remedies can’t compare to those from the Chancellor’s residence.”
He dipped his fingertip into the ointment and gently traced circles over her wrist, removing the bandage to apply the medicine.
The ointment was cool, yet his fingers fingers were warm. The clash of cold and heat made Ling Zhenli tense unconsciously.
“Did I hurt you?” Xue Haoting noticed and softened his touch even more.
“No,” Ling Zhenli pouted. “It actually feels quite comfortable.”
Medicine from the Chancellor’s residence better than the palace’s—wasn’t that overstepping?
“You’re comfortable now? How did you manage this injury? Playing polo and you still managed to hurt yourself.” He suddenly leaned in, his breath brushing her ear.
Ling Zhenli’s heart skipped.
Though his words were blunt, his tone was unmistakably concerned.
Back at the Chancellor’s residence, Xue Haoting had always tormented and abused her—when had he ever treated her so gently? His current tenderness felt strangely unfamiliar.
“It was County Princess Roujia who insisted on competing with me in polo. If I hadn’t agreed, she would have kept pestering me, so I simply indulged her.”
Ling Zhenli couldn’t swallow her anger; despite getting injured, she didn’t feel she had suffered a loss.
“She’s jealous of you, I suppose. From what I know, Xiao Chongheng and her can’t stand each other. His heart is probably still with you. Looks like you carry quite some weight in Xiao Chongheng’s heart,” Xue Haoting teased.
“I have nothing to do with him anymore—not even worth half a coin,” Ling Zhenli said stubbornly.
“That Pei Chanlian really thinks she’s something, daring to bully you like this. If you had given her a slap with the same force you used on me, she would have behaved.”
“She’s a county princess—how could I hit her?”
“When our grandfather, Duke Zhao, passed away, Emperor Gaozu personally supported the coffin. When our maternal grandfather, Duke Liang, passed away, Emperor Wen did the same. Our uncle was enfeoffed as a marquis, our father appointed chancellor. The county princess you speak of even knelt before our maternal grandfather’s spirit tablet to show loyalty to Emperor Wen. What is there to fear?”
Ling Zhenli was speechless. She wasn’t truly Xue Yingyue—how could she possess that innate confidence?
“What nonsense are you talking about? Ouch, ouch… Be gentle, you’re hurting me.”
“Alright, alright, gently then. Such a big wound, and you didn’t even apply ice afterward. Now look, it’s all swollen. That Crown Prince—how does he take care of you?”
Xue Haoting complained as he spoke. Tilting her head, Ling Zhenli spotted the ice he had brought.
She lifted her chin proudly, the corners of her lips curving upward. “Isn’t that why I have you to take care of me?”
The moment the words left her mouth, both of them froze.
Three seconds later, Xue Haoting broke the silence with a quiet “Mm.”
“…It’s not that the Crown Prince doesn’t care. At the time, I thought it wasn’t serious, so I didn’t let the attendants fetch ice.”
“You were injured, yet he still had the mind to play polo with the Tibetans,” Xue Haoting said with displeasure.
“It’s the face of our dynasty, after all.”
“From the moment Pei Xuanlin personally beheaded Emperor Wen and then handed the throne to the weak and incompetent current emperor, our dynasty’s face was already lost,” Xue Haoting laughed.
“…”
Ling Zhenli didn’t understand politics and couldn’t grasp what he meant.
Seeing her confusion, Xue Haoting brushed it off in a few words. “The current emperor is easily swayed; Pei Xuanlin has an iron hand. A balance of firmness and softness works at court, but His Majesty is too indecisive—hardly fit for the role of emperor.”
Ling Zhenli understood a little.
“How can you and I discuss His Majesty like this? That’s a capital crime.”
“It’s just the two of us here.”
Xue Haoting finished rebandaging her hand with fresh gauze.
“The favor you asked of me—I helped you. How are you going to compensate me?”
“We’ll talk once my injury heals.” Delay it as long as possible.
“That works. No rush.” Xue Haoting smiled.
Ling Zhenli couldn’t find anything to say. The two of them fell silent. The hall was utterly quiet, save for the soft rustling sound of Xue Haoting wrapping the bandage.
After a long while, Xue Haoting lowered his gaze and brought up Xiao Chongheng on his own.
“Xiao Chongheng must have been pestering you.”
“…Yes.”
At the mention of Xiao Chongheng, Ling Zhenli’s heart ached as if cut by a blade.
“Everyone in the capital knows he doted obsessively on a courtesan from Zuixian Pavilion, giving her even imperial gifts without batting an eye, even presenting her with a Persian cat—only to abandon her in the end.”
“…”
“I know. That’s why I went to look for you.”
Ling Zhenli lifted her head and stared at Xue Haoting, instantly realizing.
“So you already knew who I was. You went to Zuixian Pavilion because I had once been with Xiao Chongheng?”
“….” This time, Xue Haoting didn’t know how to respond.
Damn it.
“Didn’t you say you bought me because I looked like your sister?” Ling Zhenli snapped.
“Don’t you?”
“Do I?”
“…No.”
“Lewd bastard. Get away from me.”
Unable to control her anger, Ling Zhenli shoved Xue Haoting hard with her injured hand. The wound, barely stopped from bleeding, split open again, blood seeping out.
“Well, that was all for nothing,” Xue Haoting shot her a look.
Despite the pain, Ling Zhenli was furious. “Weren’t you always treating me as a substitute for your sister?”
“I can still tell the difference between you and my sister.”
“You—!”
Though angry, when Xue Haoting knelt to rebandage her, she did not refuse.
“In the past, I never had a woman I loved. I only had my younger sister, Xue Run. I think I may have confused familial affection with desire without even realizing it. I only harbored improper thoughts toward you. Now, belatedly, I’ve realized it… And making you pretend to be my sister—that was me deliberately teasing you to satisfy my own selfish desires. It wasn’t—”
“Brother.”
Ling Zhenli suddenly interrupted him, stopping the apology he was about to give.
She didn’t need Xue Haoting’s apology, because she would never forgive him.
“You don’t need to call me brother.”
“Brother.”
Ling Zhenli’s gaze was firm, reminding him of their current identities, as if the earlier teasing and intimacy had never existed.
“Since everything’s been made clear, if you truly see me as nothing more than a sister, then all the better.”
When she said this, Ling Zhenli placed herself entirely in Xue Yingyue’s position.
“I understand.”
Xue Haoting lowered his eyes, just finishing the bandaging.
“Get some rest. I’ll go.”
“Remember to close the door.”
His words had left Ling Zhenli unsettled, and she didn’t want to see him now.
Xue Haoting granted her wish, leaving her in peace.
Exhausted, Ling Zhenli lay back down, pondering what Xue Haoting had said.
Had he come out of guilt? Did he feel his past treatment of her was too cruel and now wished to repent? When Xue Haoting had made her play Xue Yingyue and tormented her, he had never once considered her feelings.
In any case, she would never forgive Xue Haoting. The insults and beatings he had inflicted on her—she would remember them all, to repay him in the future.
After returning to the Eastern Palace and finishing dinner, when it was time to retire for the night, Pei Xuanlin took Ling Zhenli’s hand and examined it carefully.
Moonlight streamed through the window. A faint breeze made the candle flicker, casting mottled shadows across her wrist.
“Does it still hurt?” Pei Xuanlin lowered his head and gently pressed a kiss to her wrist.
Ling Zhenli’s fingers trembled slightly, a bit shy. “It’s not that serious. With a few days of rest, it’ll be fine.”
Pei Xuanlin chuckled softly, his fingertips brushing the swelling. “Not serious? Look at it—your wrist is swollen. This is my fault. I didn’t take good care of you.”
Just as Ling Zhenli was about to speak, he pulled her into his arms.
His lips brushed her earlobe, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. “I heard my brother-in-law went to see you. Did he blame me for not looking after you properly?”
“He was just worried about me,” Ling Zhenli said softly, feeling a moment of weakness and speaking kindly of Xue Haoting—only to regret it immediately.
“On my way to find you after winning against Tibet today, I heard many people discussing Jin’an and Yang Chengxiu,” Pei Xuanlin said, pinching her cheek gently and smiling. “Was that your doing?”
“So Sanlang says this to accuse me of failing to discipline my servants?” Ling Zhenli’s voice turned soft and coquettish as she nestled into his arms.
Pei Xuanlin was completely wrapped around her finger.
“How could I bear to punish you, you little schemer.”
Resting against Pei Xuanlin’s chest, Ling Zhenli looked up at him with bright eyes, then suddenly asked, “Then… will His Majesty and Her Majesty punish Princess Jin’an?”
“Not necessarily,” Pei Xuanlin replied, shaking his head with a smile.
“What? Why?”
Ling Zhenli frowned, displeased, looking at him expectantly for an explanation.
She had spread the scandal precisely to have Princess Jin’an lose the emperor and empress’s favor. If nothing came of it, she would feel deeply frustrated.
“I don’t know,” Pei Xuanlin said, avoiding a direct answer.
It seemed he had something he could not say, so Ling Zhenli did not press further.
After a few seconds, Pei Xuanlin added, “You’re willful by nature. Jin’an won’t find it hard to guess that you were behind this. It’s better to be cautious. For now, try not to go out much until this passes.”
“So you’re confining me?” Ling Zhenli was unhappy.
How reckless could a princess be? Was a Crown Princess supposed to fear her? Moreover, she now bore Xue Yingyue’s identity. If the princess offended her, she would still have to weigh the Chancellor’s residence behind her.
“Not exactly…” Pei Xuanlin thought for a moment. “Just avoid running into Jin’an. A mother beast protecting her cubs can be quite frightening.”
…
Then she understood. She, too, had once had a child.
But Pei Xuanlin must never know.
At the thought, Ling Zhenli hugged him tighter, feeling his heartbeat. Amid her pretense, there was a trace of genuine emotion.
“Sanlang, when we have a child one day, you’ll protect them too, right?”
“Of course.”
Sensing her unease, Pei Xuanlin gently patted her back in comfort.
“My parents passed away early. I never had their protection. When we have a child, I’ll never let them live as I did.”
Hearing this, Ling Zhenli felt a pang in her heart. If the father of the child she lost had been Pei Xuanlin, would that child have survived and stayed by her side?
“Why are you crying?” Pei Xuanlin gently wiped away the tears at the corner of her eyes.
“I’m afraid… afraid I won’t be a good mother. I’m not ready yet…”
The more she thought, the more she felt she had wronged Pei Xuanlin. Fear crept in. He treated her so well now—but if one day he learned of her past, he would surely despise her, abandon her, perhaps even rage that she was filthy and vile and order her execution…
Pei Xuanlin, unaware of her thoughts, only tried to soothe her.
“There’s no rush. Three or five years later is fine. The court situation is unstable now. I don’t have the energy to teach a child properly, and you’re still young. Childbirth is like crossing the gates of hell—there’s no harm in waiting. If it comes to it, we can follow the example of the current emperor and adopt a capable child from the clan. Don’t worry. Other positions can be vacant, but the throne is different. Even if someone sits on it, there will be others fighting tooth and nail to seize it. Succession is never a concern. Don’t burden yourself.”
After all, for many dynasties now, the crown prince had not succeeded smoothly. Even with a child, one would have to guard against the ambitious wolves within the clan.
His words soothed her. Ling Zhenli lay against his chest, playing with his hair, and asked, “Sanlang, since Father Emperor and Mother only had you, why are you called Sanlang?”
Pei Xuanlin thought for a moment before explaining, “Emperor Wen disliked my mother, and by extension disliked me. Not long after I was born, he had me adopted by the late Crown Prince Zhanghui. Crown Prince Zhanghui had two sons who died young, so I ranked third. Everyone called me Sanlang. After my father ascended the throne, he changed things back, but by then everyone was used to calling me that, and so was I. It stuck.”
On second thought, aside from Emperor Wen’s children, there were few surviving descendants in the Pei clan.
Apart from himself, there were only the children of Crown Prince Duanhuai—Prince Shunyi and County Princess Roujia—plus Princess Jin’an now.
If adoption were to be considered, it would likely be Prince Shunyi’s future child. He currently held a sinecure at court, indulged in pleasure, engaged in corruption and collusion with the powerful, and had been responsible for many miscarriages of justice. It was precisely because he and County Princess Roujia were useless that they were allowed to live on in the capital.
“Then why was Emperor Wen so harsh toward her own children and grandchildren?”
“Because she was an emperor.” Pei Xuanlin lowered his eyes, letting out a self-mocking smile. “She never saw herself as a wife, a mother, or a grandmother—only as an emperor with absolute power over life and death. Before her, everyone was an ant. Obey and you prosper; defy and you perish.”
“And you?” Ling Zhenli suddenly lifted her head from his chest, propping herself up, half playful and half serious.
“As for me…” Pei Xuanlin smiled faintly. “At least I won’t be harsh toward you or our children.”
He meant it sincerely, and Ling Zhenli was willing to believe him.
From what she could see, the emperors of the Pei family might have had countless beauties in their harems, yet each loved only one woman. Growing up immersed in such an environment, Pei Xuanlin likely would not betray her.
With that thought, Ling Zhenli settled back beside him, and Pei Xuanlin naturally drew her into his embrace once more…