For Jun Heng’s rare praise, Gu Jiao actually felt a little embarrassed.
Thinking back to the fish that had been discarded, she was a bit puzzled. This… used to eating delicacies every day, maybe occasionally trying something different wasn’t so bad?
“This is the first time I’ve tried something you cooked,” Jun Heng said softly, looking up.
Gu Jiao thought for a moment and tried to explain herself. “But… haven’t we had congee before?”
A few days ago, she had invited a few close friends for a small gathering at the Gu residence and had taken the initiative to make congee.
Jun Heng glanced at her, then lowered his gaze again, not responding.
At the same time, Gu Jiao suddenly remembered that day—Jun Heng had also argued with her, not too big, not too small.
And he had overturned the bowl of congee she had cooked.
That time…
She had carried the congee, divided into several portions, and placed the tray on the table. Just as she reached out, the edge of the bowl had burned her hand.
Xie Chongyu, who had already risen and come toward her when she entered, quickly pulled her hand back. His frown was gentle, his words unusually soft. “Why are you always so reckless?”
He guided her back to her seat, took one of the bowls and placed it in front of her, handing her a spoon. “You made the congee, leave the rest to me.”
He calmly served the remaining bowls to everyone seated, but in the end, one bowl seemed missing.
He placed the last bowl in front of Ning Feizhi, and Xie Chongyu cast her a thoughtful glance.
Gu Jiao blinked at him. “What should I do, Brother Xie?”
She hadn’t miscounted—the missing portion was deliberately reserved for Xie Chongyu.
But… she just wanted to tease him a little.
A deeper smile in her eyes, Xie Chongyu replied softly, “The kitchen still has plenty of imperfect portions. I’ll reluctantly save the household some trouble.”
Just as he said this, the sound of porcelain shattering rang in her ears.
Gu Jiao instinctively looked and saw the spilled congee on the floor, and Jun Heng standing there, eyes lowered, staring at the broken bowl.
Another bowl gone.
Still, it was just one bowl. She laughed, teasing lightly, “Your Highness, you are magnanimous—why take it out on a bowl?”
Xie Chongyu’s gaze swept over Jun Heng, and his eyes darkened slightly, then he smoothed things over naturally. “I’ll fetch another one.”
Ning Feizhi held her portion, took a leisurely bite, and remarked, “It seems the Seventh Prince already has everything counted in his heart. Gu Jiao, your skills really need some work.”
Gu Jiao glared at him, about to retort, when a cold voice cut in: “I didn’t know Xie Shiru also counts as a member of the Gu household?”
Xie Chongyu, who had just stepped outside, paused mid-step. The room fell silent; even Ning Feizhi stopped chewing, a rare quiet descending.
Only for a moment, and Xie Chongyu resumed walking, as if he hadn’t heard Jun Heng’s words.
It was only after he left that Gu Jiao realized the implication behind Jun Heng’s comment.
Although she was used to whispers about Xie Chongyu, she never expected such words to come from Jun Heng’s mouth.
At the time, she hadn’t learned to conceal her emotions and only wanted to stand up for Xie Chongyu.
So, she looked straight at Jun Heng. “If we’re speaking of closeness, Chongyu is my elder brother, naturally above everyone else. I thought everyone here should know that.”
…
The conversation ended on a sour note.
From then on, she had intentionally kept Xie Chongyu away from Jun Heng. Though Xie Chongyu had said he didn’t mind, she did not want him to bend over backward for anyone.
And Jun Heng was no exception.
…
Secretly watching Jun Heng’s expression, Gu Jiao reflected: it seemed he had long been wary of the Xie family.
Her words had indeed been inappropriate, later causing some tension between her and Jun Heng. But regarding Xie Chongyu, she had hardly managed a proper approach in the first place.
“You always protect him,” Jun Heng said in a low voice.
Gu Jiao froze, staring at him in surprise.
Then she laughed awkwardly. “Back then… our friendship wasn’t that close yet.”
“And now?” Jun Heng’s gaze searched hers, pressing for an answer.
Gu Jiao touched her nose, trying to hide her guilt. “I suppose… now it should be—”
Before she could finish, he pursed his lips and turned his head. “Forget it. Better not say anything.”
Gu Jiao: …
“Anyway, it probably wouldn’t be what I want to hear.” His fingers pressed the corner of the table as he murmured.
Gu Jiao smiled, her heart softening. “Since there’s nothing else to do, why don’t you write down what you want to hear, and I’ll read it to you?”
Jun Heng’s fingers paused, a faintly teasing smile appearing at the corner of his lips. “Did Huai An… tell you anything?”
Although Huai An had never directly spoken to him, Jun Heng had long noticed the few moments of exchanged glances between Gu Jiao and Huai An. Seeing how accommodating she was toward him, he could roughly guess some of the situation.
He didn’t want to use past events to win her sympathy, especially since there were parts he didn’t want her to know.
Even after so many years, Gu Jiao could still sense from his expression that he had misinterpreted things. She rubbed her forehead, soothing him with a sigh. “If you’re unhappy, in a few days, I’ll pretend I never heard it.”
Finally, she explained: “I’m just… reflecting. After all these years, I feel I’ve never truly understood you.”
Between them, it had always been the simplest companionship. As for other matters, if he didn’t speak, she didn’t ask.
She could answer Ning Feizhi’s preferences fluently, but with Jun Heng, she couldn’t. Perhaps… she really had been biased.
Gu Jiao thought seriously about this, unaware that her expression looked like disappointed silence to Jun Heng.
“Gu Jiao, what kind of person is your mother?” he suddenly asked.
Caught off guard, Gu Jiao instinctively said, “Ah,” then relaxed, a smile tugging at her lips.
“She…”
Her memories of her mother weren’t deep, but she had often heard Gu Qingxing talk about her.
She had always thought of her mother as a proper, refined lady—“graceful and virtuous,” “gentle and wise”—and couldn’t help but feel a little regretful that she herself wasn’t like her.
It wasn’t until one chance conversation with one of the household maids, reminiscing about her mother, that Gu Jiao truly understood her. She could still remember the maid’s expression, a mixture of nostalgia and something hard to put into words.
Her father and mother first met on a day when they were boating on the lake.
Her mother had immediately taken a liking to the young and refined Gu Qingxing and decisively stepped onto the same painted boat as him.
Then, her very headstrong mother quietly approached her father, pointing to a seemingly ordinary koi fish and praising it to the skies. When her father turned in curiosity, she smiled at him, then pretended to feel faint, clutching her forehead as if she were about to fall into the water.
Startled, her father instinctively reached to grab her sleeve—only to be dragged in together.
In her mother’s plan, this was supposed to be a heroic rescue, a classic tale of romance… yet her father had no sense of water at all.
In the end, her mother dragged her water-choked father back to shore.
“Later, I was curious, so I went to ask my father about it, and he chased me out of the study, blushing,” Gu Jiao recounted, sighing, though a small smile never left her lips.
Jun Heng had been quietly listening to her all this time, and now a faint smile appeared on his face. “That’s wonderful,” he said softly.
After a while, he spoke again. “I hardly remember ever seeing my mother smile.”
Gu Jiao was momentarily taken aback. She hadn’t expected Jun Heng to bring up the past and now looked at him seriously.
“She wasn’t completely indifferent to me, as others said,” he continued. “My appearance is more like the Emperor’s, so when she saw me, she treated me well… and sometimes, she would smile.”
A bitter smile flickered across his eyes. “But when she regained consciousness, she seemed to resent me. She wouldn’t allow me to appear before her.”
Gu Jiao furrowed her brow, then said softly, “Perhaps… she only wanted to vent her resentment toward Emperor Zhao Yuan through you.”
Although the result was the same, thinking this way might make it easier for him to bear.
“I know,” Jun Heng said, without refuting her.
“All her thoughts were of the Emperor. Love or hate, it was all for him.”
“Jun Heng…” Gu Jiao couldn’t help calling his name, distressed to see him belittling himself like this.
“I thought I should hate her too, but then… she died.” Jun Heng’s eyelids trembled. “Father brought me to the East Ceremonial Hall and had Huai An stay by my side. I lived somewhat better than before, but it still didn’t feel… quite right.”
“Gu Jiao, you might think I’m not sincere, but… there are things I don’t know how to tell you,” he admitted.
Gu Jiao was silent for a moment, then walked closer to him.
Seeing the confusion on his face, she knelt beside him and took his hand.
When her palm touched the back of his hand, she felt a faint shiver.
“Sorry,” she said softly. “I… never made the effort to truly understand you. That was my oversight.”
What she had meant as her own reflection, Jun Heng might have mistaken for reproach over his secrecy…
Yet, even as emperor, he could still make her soften her heart in the quietest, most unintentional moments.
“But the fact that you are willing to tell me… is an honor.”
Jun Heng stared into her eyes, his fingers unconsciously tightening, his hand drawing closer to hers. “Gu Jiao, from now on… can we be honest with each other?”
A thousand thoughts flashed through her mind, but at that moment, she could not bring herself to say “no.”
Just as she was about to nod, the door to the hall was knocked on urgently.
She instinctively removed her hand, and Jun Heng returned to his senses. Both of them looked toward the door.
“Your Majesty! Chancellor Zuo has been attacked!”
…
Gu Jiao and Jun Heng hurried to the Gu residence. Outside, soldiers had already gathered, standing at attention. She didn’t stop to think and rushed straight for Gu Qingxing’s room.
She barely crossed the threshold and was about to call out when he interrupted her: “Don’t rush—he’s still alive.”
Looking in the direction of the voice, Gu Qingxing sat on the couch, surrounded by imperial physicians. One of them was carefully dressing a wound on his left arm.
Gu Jiao steadied herself, walking over to inspect. The wound had been treated, but faint streaks of blood still seeped through the bandage.
Seeing her frown and sweat-dampened forehead, Gu Qingxing lowered his sleeve to cover the injury and nodded to the physicians.
“It’s just a scratch. You’re acting like I’m severely wounded,” he said, smiling to reassure her, then shifted his gaze to those behind her.
“Your Majesty.”
Jun Heng reached out to steady Gu Qingxing, checking over him carefully. After seeing no other injuries, he let out a small sigh of relief.
“General Mu arrived in time, and the Marquis protected him. I’m not badly hurt,” Gu Qingxing spoke first, glancing aside, his voice calm.
Gu Jiao noticed someone else in the room.
Mu Wan smiled at her and bowed. “I greet Your Majesty and Your Highness.”
“Was the culprit identified?” Jun Heng asked directly, seeing Mu Wan. On the way here, Huai An had hurriedly explained the situation, but Gu Jiao had been too anxious to absorb much.
Gu Qingxing had been struck by a hidden arrow while playing chess with Yan Xiang in the residence.
Mu Wan had coincidentally arrived, heard the commotion, brought the guards, and immediately reported to the palace.
He nodded slightly, took a concealed arrow from his sleeve, and handed it to Jun Heng.
“I was too late to intercept the shooter. However, the steward at the residence has traced the perpetrator to a servant boy.”
Gu Jiao helped Gu Qingxing sit properly, closing her eyes briefly. “Huai An, check who this boy has been in contact with recently.”
Huai An nodded and stepped out.
Gu Qingxing pondered for a moment. “In the heat of the moment, Yan Xiang pushed me aside. I was only grazed by the arrow, but he took the force and injured his shoulder.”
“I’ve already sent Yan Xiang back to the residence, and the imperial physicians have checked. The injury involves the muscles and bones, so he may need time to recover,” Mu Wan added.
Gu Qingxing frowned slightly, seeming about to say something, but Jun Heng interjected: “The Empress and I will go to the Yan residence. Gu Qingxing, you just focus on healing.”
Gu Jiao was momentarily stunned at being called by name.
She had intended to go thank Yan Xiang herself… but now, with Jun Heng accompanying her?
“I have nothing pressing either. Perhaps we should go together to visit Yan Xiang,” Mu Wan said politely, giving Gu Jiao a subtle wink.
Gu Qingxing shook his head and smiled. “Very well.”