Chu Shaoyuan’s headache today was indeed not feigned.
However, even though he was unwell, he did not neglect state affairs. The memorials piled on the table could only be reviewed by him, and delaying matters or being lazy in governance was meaningless.
Thus, his expression was rather unpleasant. Aunt Tingqin dared not speak after delivering her message, waiting only for The Emperor’s decision.
Chu Shaoyuan stared blankly at the memorial. He had been reviewing them swiftly all morning; with another hour of work, he could finish them all, which was still much easier than before. "Go tell her it’s unnecessary," Chu Shaoyuan said calmly, then added after a moment’s thought, "Keep an eye on her and see what else she does."
Tingqin had been brought into the palace by his mother from her maiden family and had witnessed his birth. For twenty years, she had served by his side and was utterly loyal.
She was well aware of the matters in Pomegranate Hall, but her lips were sealed—she had never uttered a word about them to anyone.
Chu Shaoyuan trusted her, simply instructing her to act as she saw fit.
Tingqin bowed and, seeing his expression soften slightly, said, "Your Majesty, rest after a while longer. I have already instructed the small kitchen to prepare Qingxin soup. Please have some before sleeping."
Chu Shaoyuan nodded. "You are thoughtful, Aunt."
Tingqin bowed her head and withdrew. Thinking of the hardships Chu Shaoyuan had endured over the years, her heart ached with sympathy.
But many words could only be kept to herself, never to be spoken aloud.
Upon returning to Pomegranate Hall, she looked up to see Mistress Su still waiting in the parlor, with no intention of resting. Seeing her gazing eagerly, her small face filled with timidity, Tingqin felt an unusual pang of softness. "Mistress Su should rest. His Majesty has imperial physicians attending him. Too many people would only disturb his peace."
Su Qingyao lowered her eyes and sighed softly. "I understand."
Tingqin thought she was giving up and was about to turn and leave when Mistress Su spoke again, "But could I trouble you to fetch brush, ink, paper, and inkstone? I wish to copy some sutras as a way to pray for His Majesty’s well-being."
"Mistress…" Tingqin was momentarily stunned, having never encountered such a determined palace consort before.
Su Qingyao looked at her, her face full of despondency and frustration. "I cannot help His Majesty in any other way. This is all I can do to offer my humble efforts."
Her words were sincere and heartfelt. Tingqin nodded, her heart softening as she agreed, "Very well. I will have the palace servants bring them shortly. Mistress, rest early if you grow tired while writing. Do not exhaust yourself."
Su Qingyao smiled at her, her adorable and youthful face seeming to glow, bringing comfort to anyone who saw it.
Tingqin withdrew to arrange for the writing materials, sighing inwardly: She is a good girl, it’s just a pity…
A pity her fate is not favorable.
Back in her bedchamber, Su Qingyao’s expression changed. She looked at the freshly served hot tea and smiled faintly.
"It’s not that difficult after all…"
Liu Qin was pouring tea for her and didn’t catch what she said. Hearing her speak, she asked, "What instructions do you have, Mistress?"
Su Qingyao shook her head and had Liu Qin fetch a soft cushion to place on the chair in the elegant room. She sat upright and said, "We’ll be up late tonight. I’ll have to trouble you to grind the ink."
Su Qingyao had always loved reading and often wrote poetry in her daily life. Liu Qin was skilled at grinding ink, so this small task was well within her abilities.
Not long after, Tingqin personally delivered the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, standing there to watch as Su Qingyao picked up the brush and began to write.
In her past life, days were lonely and dull, and certain things couldn't be too out of line. For a period, she could only pass the time by copying Buddhist sutras, and so she copied them for many years, memorizing several volumes until they flowed from her lips, and her calligraphy also gained an elegant charm.
Now, there was no need to search for books at all. Picking up a brush, she could write beautiful sutra-style regular script with practiced ease, clearly showing genuine effort and training.
Aunt Tingqin stood watching for a moment but did not linger. Her mind was preoccupied with many matters. After withdrawing, she instructed the night-watch palace maid, "Keep an eye on the lamps in the bedchamber. If they dim, add oil promptly—don't strain the mistress's eyes."
The junior palace maid bowed but had no time to speak before Aunt Tingqin added, "In a while, I'll have the small kitchen send over a plate of pastries. Bring them in for the mistress and make sure she doesn't go hungry."
This was the first time the junior palace maid had seen Aunt Tingqin show such concern for an imperial consort attending the bedchamber. Though intensely curious, she dared not ask questions, merely bowing silently and watching as Aunt Tingqin left Pomegranate Hall.
When Su Qingyao said she would copy sutras, it wasn't just empty talk—she genuinely intended to copy through the night.
After all, she was young now, with ample energy. If she didn't make the most of this chance to show her diligence while she could, could she really expect good fortune to fall from the sky? To move to better quarters sooner, she needed to rise in rank earlier, and in the palace, the one with the most say in such matters was The Emperor.
Whether he noticed or not, she would copy sincerely, seeking peace of mind for herself.
Half an hour later, the junior palace maid entered with the pastries, first brightening the palace lamps, then refilling the teapot. "This servant will wait outside the door. Please call if you need anything, mistress."
Su Qingyao rubbed her slightly swollen wrist and smiled at her. "Thank you for your trouble."
After the maid left, she glanced at the pastries on the tea table. There were four varieties, each exquisitely crafted—clearly the work of Qianyuan Palace's small kitchen.
Su Qingyao sighed inwardly: So I get to enjoy Qianyuan Palace's delicacies ahead of time.
Not hungry at the moment, she said to Liu Qin, "Go and try them. These aren't something we can easily have."
Liu Qin shook her head and whispered, "This servant has a clean handkerchief. Tomorrow, we can wrap them up and take them back for you to enjoy slowly, mistress."
Su Qingyao was taken aback by her words and couldn't help but laugh. "You little miser, even taking food to go?"
"If it pleases the mistress, what need has this servant for pride?" Liu Qin replied.
Back at home, Su Qingyao wasn't without fine things, but in the palace, everything depended on favor and rank. Even with silver on hand, many luxuries remained out of reach.
Such intricate and delicate pastries were indeed something she hadn't enjoyed in a long time.
Perhaps because she had mentioned to Liu Qin her fondness for such treats, Liu Qin had remembered it well. No wonder in her past life, Liu Qin always liked to keep plates of pastries in the room—it was for this reason.
Su Qingyao's eyes reddened, thinking of Liu Qin's decades of companionship in her previous life, warmth flooding her heart.
"Your pride is my pride," Su Qingyao paused, speaking earnestly. "I will strive to make our lives better. In the future, I won't let you suffer like this."
Liu Qin felt a bit embarrassed by her words, blushing as she smiled and lowered her head to continue grinding ink.
Su Qingyao said no more, resuming her sutra copying while murmuring, "May The Emperor recover swiftly."
As long as The Emperor regained his health, wouldn't he resume summoning consorts to his bedchamber? She had just entered the palace—perhaps there was still some opportunity for her.
Beyond the carved lattice window behind the antique display shelf opposite, a tall figure stood quietly in the shadows.
Chu Shaoyuan peered through the pre-arranged peephole, just in time to overhear the conversation between Su Qingyao and her maid. Though the exchange sounded somewhat sorrowful, the young lady's voice remained light and clear, her expression showed no sign of dejection, and she even comforted her palace maid in return.
Despite her youth, she possessed remarkable clarity of mind—clearly not one to dwell on heavy thoughts.
Later, when she said, "I hope His Majesty recovers soon," Chu Shaoyuan found himself momentarily lost in thought. After lowering his head and pondering for a long while, he let out a self-mocking laugh.
He, too, wished to recover…
Chu Shaoyuan exited through the narrow passageway, turned along the winding corridor, and returned directly to his bedchamber.
Because he had woken up with a splitting headache that morning, Lu Haobo, the head of the Imperial Medical Academy, had rushed over and remained stationed at Qianyuan Palace all day, not daring to leave.
Having finished reviewing the memorials, Chu Shaoyuan did not go to the study upon returning to his bedchamber. Instead, he settled into the elegant sitting room and instructed Lou Douzhou to summon Lu Haobo.
Lu Haobo arrived promptly, entered, bowed first, and then stood silently, awaiting instructions.
Chu Shaoyuan raised his head and fixed a piercing gaze on him. Lu Haobo could feel the Emperor's stare. He clenched his teeth, trying not to appear overly timid, yet still dared not look up.
After waiting for about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Chu Shaoyuan finally spoke: "Minister, please take my pulse."
Lu Haobo bowed respectfully, stepped forward slowly, and stood beside Chu Shaoyuan to listen to his pulse.
His face showed no extra expression, and Chu Shaoyuan did not look at him either, instead staring blankly at the palace lantern in the distance.
After listening to the pulse on both wrists, Lu Haobo retreated and said: "Your Majesty's headache is merely due to improper rest. If you take the Qingxin decoction tonight and retire early, you will feel completely better by tomorrow."
Chu Shaoyuan continued to stare at him.
He had been appointed Crown Prince at the age of ten and began assisting the late Emperor with state affairs at fifteen. Over the years, he had accumulated immense authority, to the point where even many senior ministers from previous reigns dared not openly oppose his decrees, let alone Lu Haobo, who was merely a physician from the Imperial Medical Academy.
Lu Haobo had thought he had grown accustomed to the young Emperor's imposing presence, but today, for some reason, he found himself unable to lift his head under that gaze, nearly trembling to the point of kneeling.
The Emperor's aura of authority grew deeper with each passing day.
Lost in thought, Lu Haobo was startled when Chu Shaoyuan spoke: "What else?"
Though it was just three simple words, Lu Haobo broke into a cold sweat. He took a deep breath and, still keeping his head lowered, replied: "As I stated earlier, Your Majesty is in good health and shows no signs of illness."
Chu Shaoyuan had heard such words for years. He had even consulted renowned physicians from among the common people, yet regardless of who was summoned, the verdict remained the same:
His Majesty is in good health and shows no signs of illness.
But was he truly not ill?
Chu Shaoyuan's expression darkened. He had learned not to grow angry over this matter, but even now, at this point, he still clung to a sliver of hope.
Perhaps… this time would be different?
Yet he had just tested it again, and nothing had changed.
Chu Shaoyuan knew the imperial physician would not dare deceive him, but he still felt deeply frustrated. After a long silence, he wearily waved his hand: "Enough, you may leave."
Seeing him like this, Lu Haobo felt a twinge of sympathy.
After some thought, he spoke out of turn for the first time in his life: "Your Majesty… perhaps you could find a confidant. Even if… life could be a little more comfortable."
A confidant? In his condition, where could he find a confidant?
His status as a member of the imperial family alone made many things complicated and burdensome. Human hearts were difficult to fathom, and in this vast sea of people, where could Chu Shaoyuan find his confidant?
For Lu Haobo to say this much was already a sincere effort made on his behalf.
Chu Shaoyuan nodded, his expression softening somewhat. "This Emperor understands. You have worked hard today, dear minister. You may retire and rest."
Lu Haobo bowed and withdrew. Meeting Lou Douzhou's expectant gaze, he could only shake his head at him.
Lou Douzhou showed no sign of disappointment. He simply arranged for a Junior Palace Attendant to personally escort Lu Haobo out, then turned and entered the private chamber. "Your Majesty, the night is deep. Tomorrow's morning court awaits. It is time to rest."
Chu Shaoyuan sat there, his profile cast by the palace lanterns—blurred and solitary.
"Mm. Prepare for bed."
After the washing rituals were complete, Chu Shaoyuan sat on the dragon bed as Lou Douzhou removed his shoes. His gaze fell upon the plate of pastries on the desk, and for some reason, he suddenly thought of that minor palace consort still in Pomegranate Hall.
He paused, then instructed calmly, "Remember to bestow generous rewards upon her tomorrow."
Lou Douzhou was taken aback for a moment before immediately responding with delight, "Yes, Your Majesty. This servant will make the arrangements shortly."
Chu Shaoyuan gave a soft "Mm." It was only after lying down that he added another line: "Add two more portions of Suzhou-style pastries from the small kitchen."
She probably… likes them.
With this thought, Chu Shaoyuan drifted lightly into slumber.