The biting wind swept up flakes of leftover snow, and in an instant, heaven and earth turned a vast, blinding white.
Yue Li pulled herself out of her memories, though she could still seem to feel the lingering pain in her stomach.
So… so terrifying!
She had only enjoyed three years of wealth and glory—how could she just die like that!
After she died, what happened to He Yanchen?
A tyrant like him—neglecting state affairs, treating human life as worthless, slaughtering the loyal and good—he must have been cut down by someone’s blade too, surely.
Yue Li absently stroked the black hair falling over her chest. Having sat in the pavilion for so long, her strands had picked up melted snow and carried a slight dampness.
“Your Highness?”
Lianqiao’s voice pulled her back to reality, and Yue Li hurriedly grabbed her arm. ”Where is His Majesty?”
“His Majesty… should be at Linde Hall. I haven’t heard that any consort is attending him tonight…”
The words had barely fallen when Yue Li lifted her skirts and ran toward Linde Hall, her loosely fastened crane-feather cloak falling into the snow.
Linde Hall.
The hall was brightly lit, and aloeswood incense smoldered in a glazed censer patterned with pear blossoms. He Yanchen lounged against a soft couch, lazily toying with the chess pieces before him.
He wore a bright yellow sleeping robe, the collar slightly open, his lean, muscular chest glimpsed beneath.
“Beautiful Consort… you can’t go in!”
“Please wait a moment, allow this servant to announce you first!”
Hearing the commotion outside, a flicker of coldness passed through the man’s eyes.
He gave a soft click of his tongue, as if pondering the quickest way to kill whoever dared barge in.
The next moment, the doors of the hall were slammed open with a bang.
Before He Yanchen could even rise, a pink blur crashed straight into his arms.
“Your Majesty…”
At that familiar sobbing, the hand that had been about to strangle her throat instead closed around her waist.
Ji Ming, the chief eunuch of Linde Hall, dropped to his knees in terror. “Your Majesty, Beautiful Consort Yu insisted on coming in and wouldn’t wait for this servant to announce her… this servant truly could not stop her…”
He hadn’t dared lay a hand on her!
Last time in the imperial garden, just because Beautiful Consort Yu had nearly fallen and a young eunuch had steadied her by the waist, His Majesty had immediately ordered the man’s hands cut off.
Who… who would dare touch her after that!
“Get out.”
Once the doors closed, the woman in his arms was still clinging tightly around his waist. He Yanchen raised a brow with lazy disdain. “So you’re cured?”
Yue Li stiffened. She remembered now—at this point in time, it was the third day of the cold war between her and He Yanchen.
It had all started because five days ago, He Yanchen had promised to watch the moon with her, only to be intercepted halfway there by Consort Jin, on the grounds that the First Prince had fallen ill.
As if he would get sick.
Without a word, Yue Li had pretended to fall ill as well.
But she had overdone it. He Yanchen, whose moods were already mercurial, had coaxed her for two days and then simply ignored her.
“Your Majesty… your concubine is all better now…” Yue Li lifted her head from the man’s chest, sniffling. Her beautiful eyes were wet and red, teardrops still clinging to her fragrant cheeks—truly the picture of pitifulness.
She had learned the arts of ensnaring hearts and souls since childhood at the Spring Breeze House; even her crying was calculated to look beautiful.
Any ordinary man seeing her like this would ache to gather her into his arms and comfort her.
But He Yanchen was no ordinary man.
He plucked Yue Li out of his embrace and leaned back against the couch at his leisure, eyes narrowed as he studied her with an unreadable expression.
“Really cured?”
Yue Li squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. To be fair, He Yanchen was quite easy to serve when they were getting along—it was only when he turned serious that he frightened her.
During her first year in the palace, though he favored her, Yue Li knew how to keep proper measure. She had seen how cruelly he dealt with those who defied him, and she was quite fond of her own little life.
It was half a year later—in her second year in the palace—that his temperament suddenly changed. He stopped attending to state affairs, growing increasingly violent and debauched.
And while Yue Li knew nothing else, she was a master of every kind of pleasure and amusement.
During that time, the Linde Hall rang with song and revelry night after night, while curses poured in from both court and common folk. Everyone denounced her as a temptress who had bewitched the sovereign—a demon consort bringing ruin to the nation.
Yue Li couldn’t have cared less. She only wanted to live a life of wealth and luxury.
But now she had no choice but to care.
She didn’t want to die by a blade to the chest again.
What had caused such a drastic change in He Yanchen?
If she could stop his transformation, would the rebellion never happen?
A thin layer of coldness lurked in He Yanchen’s pitch-black pupils. He had asked her a question, and this woman had actually dared to let her mind wander.
“Consort Yu.”
The man’s tone was utterly languid, his slender fingers tapping idly against the table.
“Your tongue serves no purpose if it won’t speak. Shall I cut it out for you?”
Yue Li snapped back to her senses at once, meeting his frigid gaze, and her legs gave out as she sank to her knees.
“Your Majesty… this concubine… this concubine hasn’t seen Your Majesty for so long, I was momentarily lost in the sight of you.”
The coldness in the man’s eyes faded somewhat.
Yue Li hurriedly crawled forward on her knees, resting her small hand on his leg. A few loose strands of hair, disheveled from her rush over, brushed across the back of his hand, bringing a tingling itch.
“This concubine hasn’t seen Your Majesty for three whole days. As the saying goes, ‘one day apart feels like three autumns’—by that count, it’s been three years.”
“Will Your Majesty not allow this concubine a few more looks?”
“Heh.” The man suddenly let out a soft laugh.
He gripped her chin. Her face was somewhat pale, lending her an added touch of pitiful delicacy.
Yue Li seized the opportunity to take hold of his wrist, tilting her small face to nuzzle against his palm. “This concubine has recovered from her illness, so she may come see Your Majesty now.”
“Why are you crying?”
He Yanchen brushed a knuckle across the tears at the corner of her eye, a trace of amusement and a trace of probing curiosity in his gaze.
“This concubine had a nightmare just now. She dreamed she was being chased by assassins, and Your Majesty saved her.”
The man curled his lips carelessly. “Is that so?”
“If that day ever truly comes, I would only push you out to take the blade for me.”
“You would never…” Yue Li pouted, holding his hand and pressing little kisses into his palm. “Your Majesty would never do such a thing…”
She parted her lips slightly to nip at his fingertip, her crimson little tongue flickering in and out of view. She was born alluring, yet her beautiful eyes were remarkably clear, like an innocent fawn in the forest that knew nothing of the world.
He Yanchen’s gaze grew deep and unfathomable as he lifted her face once more.
Her almond eyes seemed to hold scattered starlight as she gazed up at him expectantly, all the more captivating.
“Get up.”
Yue Li obediently rose to her feet, tugged at the hem of her skirt, then took his arm. “Your Majesty, may this concubine stay here tonight?”
She still couldn’t quite believe it. Only when she saw him did she feel that this wasn’t a dream.
The man’s burning palm stroked lightly along her waist, drawing her closer. “What must you do to earn a night in the Linde Hall?”
“I taught you, didn’t I?”
Yue Li wrapped her arms around his neck, straddling his lap, and leaned in to kiss him.
The man’s throat moved slightly. He let her kiss him for a moment before pointing at the soft couch, his voice carrying a hint of hoarseness:
“Get up here. On your knees.”