The next day, Xiansi accompanied His Majesty to Taiye Lake.
Taiye Lake was a vast expanse of deep blue water. Every late autumn, its surface reflected the tea-red hues of maple leaves, while along the shore gleamed emerald glazed tiles and sweeping stretches of golden reeds. Sunlight scattered like gold dust, simmering everything into a rich broth of color.
On the central islet stood a pavilion at the lake's heart with magnificent views; the only way to and from the opposite shore was by boat. There was also a small Daoist temple for refining elixirs on the islet, wreathed in purple vapors, drifting with celestial mists all year round. When autumn frost descended, it became an ethereal, misty realm of immortals.
On the ornate pleasure boat, Xiansi stood at the bow, her head lazily resting against Hanzheng, casting a faint, shallow shadow.
"The scenery is so beautiful."
She shaded her eyes with a hand, murmuring in a daze.
After so many years as a servant, always busy and harried, she had never dared to freely gaze upon the imperial gardens. Seeing them today, she felt as though both body and soul had been washed clean.
"Would you like to see the pavilion at the lake's heart?"
Hanzheng's long sleeves filled with the cold morning wind, his robe ties fluttering, as he gathered her hand into his palm.
"Mm, this servant would like that."
The pleasure boat parted the rippling water and drew silently toward the central islet.
His Majesty and Miss Xiansi were at the bow, while the other servants stood hunched at the stern, not daring to look too much.
His Majesty's intentions were hidden in fog, impossible to fathom. To keep their heads, the best policy was to see nothing, hear nothing, think nothing. Miss Xiansi's fate now hung uncertain—speaking of it was taboo.
Stepping off the boat, Xiansi trod on solid ground yet still felt a lingering sway from the water.
"Careful." Hanzheng steadied her waist, their sleeves brushing. Xiansi tensed, an indescribable feeling rising within her.
"You…"
"Hm?" His brow arched slightly.
Xiansi quickly suppressed her racing heart, composed herself, and walked on, enveloped by the fragrance of flowers and earth.
After walking some way along the gray brick path, Xiansi felt something was missing, gazing at his silhouette from neither far nor near. Her fingers curled; she wanted to reach forward and take his hand, but after several moments of hesitation, she did not move, instead twisting the hem of her garment at her side.
Just then, Hanzheng stopped and, as if through a silent, intuitive understanding, extended a hand.
Xiansi swallowed, and with unspoken accord placed her hand in his, pressing against his cool, smooth palm, the corners of her lips curving up despite herself.
Bathed in the clear breeze off the water, Hanzheng spoke calmly, "The words 'The Pure Realm of the Purple Zenith' on the plaque were written by my calligraphy teacher from my princely residence before I ascended the throne. That gentleman was rigid and stubborn by temperament; before dying, he demanded to be buried in a pine-bark outer coffin, claiming it would let him ascend to immortality. Later, lightning struck and split open the gentleman's pine-bark outer coffin, and when the servants looked inside, his mortal remains were truly gone."
"Such a strange tale indeed."
Xiansi listened calmly. He was a follower of the Dao, so he presumably favored such tales of the supernatural about ascending to immortality, and she obliged him, saying, "Your Majesty is the true immortal—your calligraphy is the most beautiful of all."
She loved hearing such tales of the supernatural, and considered it an honor to hear him tell them, committing every word to memory.
Hanzheng smiled, about to say "In a lover's eyes, the beloved is Xi Shi herself," but thought better of it, and changed the subject.
"Let's go to the water's edge."
The two of them wandered through the warm autumn scenery by the shore, utterly forgetting that their second day was already half gone. Time flashed past like a white colt glimpsed through a gap; strolling along the water's edge, they had already passed the hour of the horse.
Xiansi's embroidered shoes accidentally stepped into the soft river mud, and she said regretfully, "They're dirty."
She bent down to clean them, but Hanzheng stopped her.
"You can change into new shoes when we go back," he told her breezily. When she was out enjoying herself, she should enjoy herself fully; being happy mattered most.
"But that would be a breach of imperial etiquette."
Her delicate brows knitted.
Hanzheng said, neither warm nor cold, "You've breached etiquette plenty of times already. What's one more?"
Xiansi muttered inwardly—she had always strictly adhered to propriety; when had she ever committed a breach of imperial etiquette? Ah, she understood. He was reproaching her for her delusion. These three days were themselves the greatest offense and breach of etiquette against him.
Xiansi looked up in confusion.
The kinder he was, the more respectfully he treated those beneath him, the more it cut her heart like a knife. He was gentle on the surface, inscrutable within—if she held even the smallest place in his heart, how could he have so cruelly married her off to a eunuch?
Of course, her godfather Liu Lun wasn't a bad man either—he treated her wholeheartedly. But she was choking back her resentment, her tears long spent, flowing from day into night, and still a lingering, unresolved heartache remained.
"May I play with the water a little?"
Xiansi crouched down, face toward the river—really to hide her slipping composure—her voice still carrying a bright smile. "This water is so clear and bright."
The vast Taiye Lake was dyed red by maple leaves. Frost had fallen the night before, and the flowers that had swayed in the early autumn wind had lost half their petals. In the distance, two swing frames cast deep black shadows, swaying gently on their own with no one upon them.
"The water's cold," Hanzheng reminded her quietly, catching a fallen leaf in his palm. "Autumn has already arrived."
But she could do as she pleased.
He didn't stop her from splashing the water—who could blame him, when these three days were hers to command? If she caught a chill from the cold water, that was no business of his. He would take no responsibility, neither push her away nor make promises.
The sooner these three days passed, the sooner her obsession could be laid to rest, and everything could return to its proper course.
Xiansi trailed her fingertips through the water, icy cold to the bone. She picked up a leaf floating on the surface, its veins half yellow, half green, and stared at it for a long while, her thoughts drifting. The autumn wind over the lake was refreshing—if only it could blow like this forever and ever.
"Your Majesty…"
From afar, the swing ropes kept up a faint rustling, as if beckoning someone over. Those swings were for the consorts and princesses; for a maidservant like Xiansi to use them would be overstepping.
Xiansi just crouched there, dazed, gazing up at him, heedless of her green skirt getting wet—a pitiful sight.
Hanzheng understood. Looking down at her, he scraped her jade-like chin with a finger, lingering, reluctant to let go. "Want to go for a swing?"
Xiansi declined at once. "That wouldn't be proper."
"Do you want to?"
"I do."
Hanzheng then pulled her up from the wet mud of the riverbank, and they climbed the grassy slope step by step. Xiansi was so natural with him, like a true consort of the harem, the whole scene as if veiled in a dream. The golden autumn sunlight deepened that dreamlike quality—everything warm and rich, heavy with feeling.
Before the Emperor, Xiansi naturally dared not sit on the swing. Hanzheng quietly pressed her shoulder, making her sit.
Even having stooped to accommodate her, the Emperor would certainly not push her—but her toes could touch the ground, there was a clear breeze off the lake, and she could sway herself in small arcs.
Your Majesty, come closer to me. Xiansi locked those words deep in her throat, unable to speak them. Her eyes could not reflect the beauty around her—only, stubbornly, him.
Her heart was so small; it could hold only one person.
Hanzheng stood three chi from the swing. Rather than watching Xiansi, his attention was on the maple leaves layered in varying shades of depth—between the vast sky and white clouds, the scenery was lovelier than she was.
His heart was vast; it could hold all the world.
The swing swayed, and Xiansi pressed her lips together, silently accepting the distance between them.
"Just for a little while." Xiansi scratched her head and tugged uneasily at the corner of his robe, docile. "I won't make things difficult for you."
Hanzheng smiled too, like the moon of early autumn, cold and clear, sighing at her foolishness and naivety:
"Who in this palace could make things difficult for me?"
There were only things he did not want to do; nothing could force his hand.
Well, there was one. Her.
She had forcibly stolen three days from him, the Son of Heaven.
Apart from her, no one had ever left him at a loss.
Xiansi gritted her teeth and finally steeled herself to marry the eunuch Liu Lun—Liu Lun was truly good, beyond reproach. Even from the standpoint of repaying a debt, she ought to marry him. A palace maid and a eunuch made a fitting pair; someday they would leave the palace and live an ordinary life together.
And most of all, there was the glory—overwhelming glory. This marriage was an imperial betrothal granted by the Emperor himself.
On the swing swaying in the wind, Xiansi's state of mind gradually righted itself, the clouds parting to reveal the sun, letting the light stream through.
"Mm…" The swinging made her dizzy, a sense of ethereal detachment.
She had ridden a swing meant for consorts and princesses. For the rest of her life, Xiansi would have something to boast about.
She stole a discreet glance at His Majesty.
His Majesty paid it little mind. Though he kept smiling, if one hid the lower half of his face, there was no sign of mirth.
"Your servant thanks Your Majesty."
Xiansi stepped down from the swing and bowed in earnest gratitude.
"You're dizzy." Hanzheng took her hand. "Come, rest on the rocks."
He was keeping his word, playing the lover for these three days.
This was likely just how gentle and tender he could be. For a woman who became his true consort, this tender, affectionate care, this kindly devotion, would be everyday life.
His bloody, ruthless blade would forever be bared only at court, never toward the one beside his pillow. To be his woman, one need only enjoy wealth and freedom from worry.
Xiansi sat on the rock, and the dizziness slowly faded.
Hanzheng stood, keeping a faint, subtle distance from her. She was seated; the Emperor could not stand beside her, or it would be a blurring of social rank.
"Your Majesty," Xiansi invited, "please sit as well."
Hanzheng had simply been enjoying the cool breeze off the lake; standing was more comfortable. At her words, he ruffled her hair, brushing away a withered yellow leaf caught in it, and sat down beside her. Xiansi's dark eyes blinked, her long lashes like fans, her back held rigidly straight.
"Tired?" Hanzheng draped an arm around her shoulders at just the right moment, and the two of them nestled together beneath the dappled shade of the trees.
"Not tired."
Xiansi lay against his chest. Through the gaps in the tree shadows, the sun turned gradually yellow, then brown, then dark, until the deepening gloom of twilight settled in. The coolness by the water slowly turned to cold, and the view grew dark and blurred.
It was so beautiful. How she wished time would stop flowing—but time flowed faster and more cruelly than ever.
No words. Nothing to say.
It was time to return to the palace.
"…"
The stillness brought no drowsiness at all—instead, it sharpened the senses.
More time slipped away.
Truly, truly it was time to return to the palace.
Just as Xiansi opened her mouth to speak, Hanzheng abruptly tightened his arm around her.
"Stay a while longer."
After that while, the stars slowly emerged in the sky, their outlines cast upon the lake like a black mirror, glittering silver.
By day, one admires the lake; by night, one watches the stars. The subtle delights of the waterside at night were entirely different from those of daytime.
Xiansi's heart was shaken. She boarded the boat, and it felt for all the world like a bed of starlit dreams weighing upon the Milky Way. She no longer cared that the night wind had turned chill.
How beautiful. The setting sun is boundless in its glory—only it nears its dusk.
Even as she was awed by the beautiful river of stars, she couldn't help gazing long toward the direction where the sun had set—there, in the lingering afterglow, the last of the sunlight was being cruelly devoured by darkness—
Tomorrow would be the third day.
Emotions surged through her with unusual violence.
How would she get through tomorrow?
In the darkness, tears streamed down her face.
Xiansi swallowed a great mouthful of the cold night air and steadied her mind. Happiness belongs to those who are content. She had already severed her feelings; everything was set in stone. The one she loved was Liu Lun.
Hanzheng slowly brushed aside the hair at her temple, dampened by tears—but he saw no tears, only her calm, untroubled cheek.
Xiansi broke into a smile and said apologetically, "Your Majesty…"
Hanzheng pinched up her chin. His fingertip touched something wet—he could be certain it was not water, but tears.
"Is there still anything you're unsatisfied with?"
At this very moment, there was perfect harmony. Her wishes had all come true, and he was here by her side.
His tone carried a hint of reproach—everything was already at its best, so why was she still crying?
"Nothing," she answered with certainty.
Hanzheng wiped her tears away, then said, "Return to the palace."
There was no further comfort.
Xiansi hugged her arms, trembling slightly, when a cloak suddenly settled over her shoulders. It was Chun'er who draped it there, at the Emperor's behest.
Her face was bluish with cold, but she forced out a gracious expression, drew the cloak tight around herself, and thanked the Emperor for his favor.
The cloak was perfectly clean, bearing no trace of anyone's scent—almost too new. Just like the distance he kept when teaching her to write, always maintaining an uncrossable barrier between them.
The ornate pleasure boat made its way home through the river of stars.
The hull drifted along, scattering ripple after ripple of starlight.
Darkness lay between them, and their words grew sparse. Throughout the entire journey, Xiansi could find no chance to speak with His Majesty. She could only occasionally lift her eyes to glance in his direction, at the faint outline of his handsome, distinguished silhouette in the darkness.
The boat reached its destination.
Xiansi disembarked, a dull heaviness pressing over her whole body—dazed yet happy, but above all, hollow.
The Palace of Heavenly Purity blazed with light, servants kneeling in dense rows, spilling out a warm golden glow.
Xiansi followed the Emperor into that warm light, knowing clearly that tomorrow was the final day.
The wind howled in the darkness.