Hearing this question abruptly, Yun Wan’s heart skipped a beat.
She looked down at A Sui, her eyes carrying a probing gaze: “Why do you suddenly ask this?”
Unconsciously clutching the hem of her clothes with his small hands, A Sui tilted his head and said: “I’ve never seen Father with my own eyes, so I don’t know what he looks like.”
“But both Sister Yue Ya and Sister Yue Jian say my skin is as fair as Mother’s, my hair is as black as Mother’s, and my nose, mouth, and ears are all as handsome as Mother’s.”
So here comes the question.
He raised his hand to touch his eyes, his bright pupils filled with curiosity: “So are my eyes like Father’s?”
No one had ever said A Sui’s eyes resembled his mother’s, and even he could tell that only his eyes didn’t look like his mother’s.
His mother’s eyes were large and round, while his were slender and elongated.
He could naturally distinguish the difference.
Yun Wan’s heart gave a faint lurch.
Lowering her gaze to rest on A Sui’s face, her eyes traced every feature inch by inch, finally settling on his eyes.
Inner corners sharp and outer corners lifted, with a slender, smooth curve and slightly upturned ends, resembling phoenix tail feathers.
Although A Sui was still young and his features hadn’t fully developed, it was evident he possessed an exceptionally elegant and handsome pair of phoenix eyes.
When he grew up, he would undoubtedly become a handsome man.
Yun Wan gazed at these tender yet slightly sharp phoenix eyes, her breath catching slightly.
For some reason, another pair of sharp, profound eyes flashed through her mind.
They’re exactly alike, she suddenly thought.
“Mother?” A Sui tugged at her sleeve.
Quickly pulling back her wandering thoughts, Yun Wan recalled her husband Lu Fenglan’s appearance and gave an almost imperceptible nod: “…Mmm.”
Her husband was dignified and handsome, elegant and refined, but due to his frail health and low spirits, he often kept his eyes downcast, which should appear no different from phoenix eyes.
A Sui suddenly understood: “So that’s how it is, no wonder my eyes don’t look like Mother’s – they really do resemble Father’s!”
Yun Wan gently stroked his brows and eyes, her heart and mind complex.
……..
Jinluan Hall in the imperial palace.
Sunlight poured through the five-colored glazed window lattice, intermingling with the flames from candle stands and the glow of night-shining pearls. The auspicious beasts and flowers on the gilt screen appeared vivid and lifelike.
Above the jade steps, the black ground covering with gold silk cloud patterns faintly revealed itself, extending all the way to the zitan coiled dragon imperial desk on the white marble platform.
The hall was solemn and silent, with only occasional rustling sounds coming from the imperial desk.
Amid the layered shadows of lamplight, the Jing Xuan Emperor held a brush to review memorials, his brows drawn together in contemplation. A set of black casual clothes concealed his noble and imposing aura.
As the vermilion brush made its final stroke, his low, mellow yet cold voice suddenly rang out: “Jiang Fusheng, what time is it?”
Hearing this, the eunuch Jiang Fusheng, who had been standing quietly behind the stone pillar in the great hall, glanced at the clepsydra before stepping forward lightly and saying: “Your Majesty, it’s approximately three quarters past noon.”
Remembering the lingering dream from when he woke this morning, the Jing Xuan Emperor closed the final memorial and stood up to leave.
Just then, with a soft ‘thud’ as the Emperor rose, his wide sleeves swept away, brushing the memorial that had been resting on them to the floor.
Falling along with it was a square of snow-blue gauze handkerchief.
Jiang Fusheng hurried forward to pick up the fallen memorial, but as for that gauze handkerchief, he didn’t dare touch it.
The Jing Xuan Emperor turned back and bent down to personally pick up the handkerchief.
At first glance, this handkerchief appeared utterly ordinary – made of silk material, held in his broad palm, it looked common and inconspicuous.
Yet upon closer inhalation, one could detect a faint, elusive fragrance that drifted through the hall saturated with Dragon Saliva Incense like a refreshing breeze—clear, pure, and uplifting to the spirit.
The Jing Xuan Emperor lowered his gaze, his phoenix eyes sharp as torches, profound yet detached. His tall figure and imposing presence carried an austere, suffocating pressure, though the furrow between his brows eased slightly at the scent.
“Any progress?”
Casually tucking the handkerchief into his sleeve, the Emperor stood with his hands behind his back, his tone cool as water.
A tremor ran through Jiang Fusheng. Understanding what His Majesty referred to, he hurriedly bowed in response. “Your Majesty, this humble servant begs forgiveness for his incompetence. There has been no progress in identifying the handkerchief’s owner, and the Xuanlong Wei… have likewise uncovered no leads.”
Having spoken, Jiang Fusheng hung his head.
As the chief eunuch in attendance, he knew full well where the handkerchief in the Emperor’s possession had come from and why it was carried on his person.
Five years prior, the Emperor had fallen victim to a scheme, allowing someone to approach him closely. Afterward, the individual had vanished without a trace, leaving only this handkerchief behind.
The handkerchief was made of silk—a treasure in ordinary households, yet hardly remarkable in the vast capital. Silk, soft and skin-friendly, was commonly used by noblewomen for their handkerchiefs.
What was remarkable was the scent imbued in the fabric, which, when inhaled, could alleviate the head ailment that had plagued the Emperor for years. Thus, it had been kept.
Yet the matter remained deeply perplexing. Despite five years of investigation by both him and the Xuanlong Wei, the owner of the handkerchief remained unknown.
By all reasoning, there was nothing the Xuanlong Wei could not uncover. However, that particular night had coincided with the Emperor’s birthday celebration, with officials and their families arriving to offer congratulations and attend the banquet. The comings and goings of people had been exceptionally complex.
During the incident, a fire had broken out in a side palace, and assassins had taken advantage of the chaos to infiltrate the Son of Heaven’s bedchamber with ill intent.
A series of events had thrown the palace into utter disarray that night.
Finding one person in such circumstances was exceedingly difficult.
Fortunately, the Emperor had not been resting in his bedchamber that night, so the imperial person remained unharmed. Subsequently, the Xuanlong Wei and the Yulin Army had purged the imperial city, rooting out the rebels responsible for the arson and assassination attempt, as well as the masterminds behind the plot.
Only the owner of the handkerchief remained untraceable.
Initially, they had suspected a palace consort or some audacious maid attempting to climb into the imperial bed and rise to prominence.
But after three days of intensive investigation—and continued searches over the years—no leads had emerged.
Recalling this, Jiang Fusheng’s face flushed with shame.
The Jing Xuan Emperor uttered a faint “Hmm,” clearly unsurprised by the outcome.
He gazed ahead, his long, dark eyes inscrutable and shadowed.
……….
On a cobblestone path, a man paused and looked into the distance.
The young servant in gray following behind him craned his neck to follow his gaze, voicing his doubt: “Sir, isn’t that the Third Madam and Young Master Changsui?”
The man offered no reply. The dappled light filtering through the tree leaves fell upon him, causing the dark patterns on his Cloud-embroidered Qilin Brocade Robe to shift subtly. His brows were clear, his figure tall and slender.
The gray-clad servant muttered under his breath, “Strange. The Third Madam clearly saw us, so why did she take the detour along the small path?”
That path was paved with stones and, since the start of spring, had become overgrown with tender green weeds not yet cleared—making it difficult to traverse.
Surely she wasn’t avoiding the Duke?
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he looked up and met his master’s gaze. A chill ran down the servant’s spine, and he hastily slapped himself twice. “Duke, forgive this lowly one for speaking out of turn!”
Lu Yuanduo glanced at him. “Go clear the weeds from the path.”
Weeds?
The weeds on the path?
Which path is overgrown with weeds?
The servant stared at the gravel path choked with weeds, stretching endlessly beyond sight, and felt like crying but had no tears left.