#169. Awakening from a dream (2)

He had never entertained the thought of replacing Qi Jingchen in her heart, nor had he ever speculated how far their relationship might progress. Nevertheless, the time they had spent together was real and tangible. He had genuinely believed that she would gradually let go of her unattainable attachment to that person and slowly come to accept him.

But Qi Jingchen’s arrival—even just the news of it—had thrown her into disarray, shattering the five years of calm she had painstakingly built. He hadn’t even seen her, yet she remained so deeply devoted to him that she fell gravely ill. Perhaps the feverish dreams during her illness brought back memories of their time in Jiangzuo, for when she awoke, she reverted to calling him “General,” as though she no longer recognized him, treating him like a stranger.

…Five years of shared life, and yet it couldn’t compare to a single dream of you and him?

Gu Juhan let out a wry smile at his own expense but showed no outward sign of it. He maintained his gentle demeanor, responding: “No, he hasn’t come. He’s staying at the Envoy’s Guest Villa—why would he come here?”

Upon hearing this, Shen Xiling’s expression remained dazed, but she slowly nodded.

Indeed, he wouldn’t come.

As an envoy of Liang, why would he visit the Duke of Yan’s residence in Wei? It was neither proper nor reasonable. She had been indulging in wishful thinking.

The Envoy’s Guest Villa…

She had been there before, staying in his room. She wondered if anything had changed since then—if he still resided in the same quarters as before.

Her thoughts drifted further, and a heavy wave of emotion welled up within her. She struggled to dispel it and asked Gu Juhan: “How long have I been asleep…?”

She remembered Madam Zhong’s tea gathering took place in late March, and by early April, Emperor Wei would marry Xiao Ziyu. By then, he would leave Shangjing, and she truly wouldn’t see him again.

After the tea gathering, she had already resigned herself to not seeing him again. His attitude had been so firm during their brief encounter. Five years apart—it was possible he no longer loved her as much, or perhaps he had forgotten her entirely. It was also possible he no longer wished to be entangled with people or matters from the past. All these possibilities existed.

Yet, the dream she had while ill felt so vivid that even now, she still felt as though everything had happened yesterday. They had never parted, and she was still the person who understood him best—he wouldn’t abandon her; he must have had his reasons.

She remembered how, before her marriage, he had promised to visit her after five years. And now, here he was—it couldn’t be mere coincidence, could it? Or perhaps it was deliberate on his part?

In truth, it didn’t matter. If it were the former, she would consider it their destined fate. If it were the latter, then it meant he still cared for her.

Either way, it was enough reason for her to seek him out once more.

The determination in her eyes was unmistakable, and Gu Juhan saw it clearly. He knew she still intended to find that man. Though he sighed inwardly, he couldn’t help but feel some relief—it was better than seeing her despondent or bedridden with illness. He would rather she pursued him.

Thus, he said: “About five or six days. Today is the twenty-seventh.”

He adjusted her blanket, pulling it higher, and added: “Don’t rush yourself. Focus on recovering. By the time of the Buddha Bathing Festival on the eighth day of the fourth month, you’ll be able to see him.”

He understood exactly what she was thinking and even began making plans for her. Upon hearing that the Buddha Bathing Festival on the eighth day of the fourth month hadn’t arrived yet, Shen Xiling felt an immediate sense of relief, repeatedly murmuring: “That’s good… that’s good…”

It was as if a great burden had been lifted from her heart.

Gu Juhan watched her with a mixture of emotions he couldn’t quite untangle. He knew she had no energy left to consider his feelings—she was still ill, and her mind remained deeply immersed in the dream that had brought her to tears.

He stepped out of the room personally to have the maids bring in the medicine. Initially, he intended to feed it to her himself, but after some hesitation, he decided such an act might overstep boundaries and displease her. Thus, he entrusted the task to Lianzi. Once he saw her finish drinking the dark herbal concoction prescribed by the imperial physicians, he sat by her bedside again and gently helped her lie back down to rest.

“Drink your medicine and rest a little longer,” he said softly. “Don’t worry about anything—just focus on getting better.”

Shen Xiling nodded at Gu Juhan and watched him leave the room. Lianzi and Wanzhu bowed to see him off, then turned back to lower the bed curtains and block out the light so she could rest undisturbed.

But Shen Xiling stopped them.

Her gaze was remarkably clear, even carrying a faint glimmer of profound depth.

Slowly, she sat up in bed and instructed Lianzi: “Go fetch Mr. Gong to see me.”

The news of the Duchess of Yan’s recovery quickly reached the Wei Palace. At that time, Emperor Wei was strolling through the imperial garden with Princess Xiao Ziyu of Liang and their deputy envoy, Han Feichi.

It was already late March. In Jiangzuo, spring flowers would be in full bloom, and the cherry blossoms behind Qingji Mountain would paint the landscape pink. However, Shangjing still bore traces of lingering spring chill. The garden was filled mostly with flowering apricot trees, which, though somewhat desolate, carried their own unique charm.

Upon hearing the report of the Duchess of Yan’s recovery, Emperor Wei was delighted and ordered rewards for the imperial physicians who had attended her. After dismissing the messenger, he turned to Princess Xiao Ziyu with a smile, saying: “This is the time when warmth alternates with cold—it’s easy to catch a chill. Princess, having traveled far to Shangjing, you may find the northern climate uncomfortable. Please take good care of yourself.”

Emperor Gao Mian was already past forty, and though well-maintained, his age gap with the twenty-six-year-old Xiao Ziyu was significant. While his words were considerate, they evoked both discomfort and disdain in her heart.

You old fool, what familiarity are you trying to force here?

Years ago, the sixth princess of Liang was known for her unpredictable temperament—laughing, scolding, or teasing as she pleased. Apart from her beloved, she treated everyone else with haughty indifference. If someone she disliked dared to flatter her, she would unhesitatingly put them in their place.

But times had changed. Now, far from home without her father or brothers to support her, she faced decades ahead within the Wei Palace. She couldn’t afford to offend Gao Mian—in fact, she needed to find ways to win his favor.

Xiao Ziyu did not show displeasure but instead offered him a polite smile. Though life might have worn her down somewhat compared to her youthful days, her peach-blossom eyes remained striking, now exuding an alluring charm.

“It troubles Your Majesty to worry for me,” she replied softly. “Everything here is fine.”

This submissive demeanor pleased Emperor Wei immensely.

Throughout his life, he had doted on Empress Zou, showering her with favor for over two decades. To this day, no woman in the Wei Palace could rival her status.

That didn’t mean Gao Mian wasn’t drawn to younger beauties.

Though Xiao Ziyu was twenty-six—no longer very young—her appearance was still exquisite enough to captivate him. Moreover, as a princess of Liang, everything about her symbolized elegance and refinement. Engaging in tender exchanges with her was indeed a rare pleasure.

Emperor Wei grew more animated, eager to converse further, and began discussing details of their upcoming wedding. Conveniently, the deputy envoy of Liang and officials from the Wei Ministry of Rites were present, making it an opportune moment to include them in the discussion.

Gao Mian held the deputy envoy of Liang in high regard because he hailed from the prominent Han family of Jiangzuo, related to the current emperor of Liang. Changes in Jiangzuo’s political landscape had been frequent in recent years, and the nobles of Shangjing were well aware of them. Gao Mian understood that the Han family had risen to unprecedented prominence.

A decade earlier, the fall of the Shen family of Liang had drastically altered the power dynamics among Jiangzuo’s aristocracy. Five years ago, the Qi family suffered another blow—the former chancellor and his son, once Right Vice Minister of the Board of Civil Appointments, were implicated in a massive land scandal and stripped of their positions. The Qi family never recovered. Had it not been for the capable second son, who single-handedly stemmed the tide of disaster, the Qi family might have vanished like the Shen family of old.

Speaking of Qi Jingchen, it was truly remarkable how much he endured. He now bore the sole responsibility of sustaining his family. Rumor had it that his father had retired from public affairs, while his eldest brother, disillusioned by past events, harbored thoughts of renouncing the world for Buddhism—even going so far as shaving his head at one point, though it was unclear if he had since returned to secular life under familial pressure. His third brother was utterly useless, and only the fourth showed some promise, recently entering officialdom—but holding only a minor post, offering little assistance to his elder brother beyond being a figurehead.

Qi Jingchen not only managed his family but also navigated treacherous political waters against the Han and Fu families. Truly, he shouldered every burden, working tirelessly. Despite retaining his position in the枢密院 (Chamber of Military Affairs) and being promoted to Left Chancellor by the Liang emperor, it was evident to discerning eyes that the Qi family’s glory days were over. Any honors bestowed upon Qi Jingchen were merely the fading light of a setting sun.

Today, the true preeminent family of Jiangzuo was none other than the Han clan, maternal relatives of the emperor.

Their influence was substantial. While Lord Han Shousong lacked notable achievements, his younger brother, Han Shouye, commanded 300,000 troops, and his protégé Zhao Qinghan controlled Jiankang’s defense forces—a formidable alliance. Following the decline of the Qi family, the Han clan quietly absorbed many of the factions that once depended on the Qis, further expanding their dominance. Nearly half of the current Liang court consisted of allies of the Han family; the remainder either leaned toward the Fu family or relied on Qi Jingchen’s patronage.

The Han family stood unrivaled in its splendor.

As for this Han heir, Han Feichi, there was much to say about him.

Renowned as a child prodigy in his youth, he later became infamous in Jiankang as a dissolute rake, notorious for submitting blank exam papers during provincial tests—a source of great frustration for his elders. Yet fate turned in his favor, and seemingly overnight, he resolved to pursue officialdom. During the imperial examinations of Jiahe Year 2, he passed as a juren (successful candidate), and the following year, he achieved the top rank of zhuangyuan (imperial scholar), to the immense delight of his family.

Already renowned for his talent, his transformation from prodigal son to accomplished statesman added to his legendary reputation. With the backing of his influential family, he rose swiftly through the ranks, now serving as one of the six senior officials of the Board of Civil Appointments. Speculation ran rampant in the Liang court that he would soon ascend to the position of Right Vice Minister.

In the future, this young Master Han might replace Qi Jingchen as the next power broker of Jiangzuo. Naturally, Emperor Wei paid him considerable attention, addressing him warmly: “Deputy Envoy Han, feel free to explore our city while you’re here. Leave the wedding preparations to our Ministry of Rites—we will ensure the princess receives the utmost respect.”

Han Feichi bowed respectfully, devoid of his former carefree demeanor, appearing instead earnest and meticulous. “This marriage alliance is of utmost importance,” he replied. “I dare not neglect my duties.”

The emperor waved off his formalities and sighed: “Deputy Envoy, such diligence on your part stems from Jingchen falling ill recently—is he feeling better? Shall I send imperial physicians to attend to him?”