FYM - 116

As dusk fell, the Empress Dowager returned to the palace. The attendants accompanying her did not hear any sound from within the jade carriage along the way. When passing through Zhongning Gate, Chao Hua glanced at the sky and hesitantly asked whether the Empress Dowager wished to detour to Gui’an Palace to visit the ailing young emperor.

There was no response from within the beaded curtains for a long while. Only after she called out again did a faint reply finally come. The attendants thought to themselves that Her Majesty must truly be exhausted—her single “Mm” sounded distant and distracted.

By the time they reached Gui’an Palace, the moon had yet to rise. The eunuch reported that the young emperor had already retired for the night. Song Shuyan stepped down from the carriage with a slight frown and asked, “Did he take his evening meal?”

“No,” the eunuch replied timidly. “His Majesty said… he wasn’t hungry…”

This was clearly nonsense. Song Shuyan’s expression grew stern, frightening the servants into kneeling in fear. She waved her hand to have them rise and sighed, “Go prepare it. I will bring it in myself.”

The inner chamber was silent. It was said that the young emperor had been throwing tantrums for several days, refusing to allow anyone near to tend to him. As Song Shuyan entered with the tray, a loud voice erupted from behind the bed curtains: “Who dares defy my orders and enter without summons? Get out this instant!”

Though day and night may seem fleeting, it had been over four months since the late emperor’s passing. The young emperor, now fourteen, was at an age when his body was growing rapidly. In just this season, many changes had occurred—for instance, his voice, which was gradually losing its childish softness and gaining the roughness of a man. His angry shouts carried particular force, no wonder the palace staff were terrified into silence.

“Isn’t he supposed to have caught a cold?”

Song Shuyan spoke calmly, unafraid of the child she had raised herself.

“I heard plenty of strength in that voice.”

The bed curtains fell silent for a moment before rustling sounds emerged. Wei Xi’s panicked voice followed: “Mo- Mother, please wait—let me greet you properly—”

Song Shuyan had no intention of intruding further by approaching the young emperor’s bedside. She simply carried the tray to the table inside the inner chamber and sat down. A moment later, Wei Xi hurried in, his yellow undergarments hastily donned and askew. He avoided meeting his mother’s gaze, but otherwise appeared normal.

“Sit down.”

Song Shuyan didn’t say much more, assuming his evasiveness stemmed from being caught feigning illness. Wei Xi murmured a hesitant reply, and upon sitting, saw a bowl of lotus seed soup and several dishes of mild watercress and purslane on the table—all suitable and nourishing for someone unwell.

A warmth rose in his heart, though he lowered his head even further. Hearing his mother say “Eat,” he immediately picked up the spoon and buried his face in the bowl. Song Shuyan shook her head with a faint smile and asked, “Why did you avoid going to the training grounds today? Weren’t you always asking your father to take you when you were younger?”

Song Shuyan often mentioned the late emperor to Wei Xi, sometimes to encourage him to study diligently, other times simply to make the child obedient. Wei Xi had grown accustomed to it, but today, for some reason, he felt uneasy. Why did she have to mention his father? She was his empress—was she bound to remember him forever?

“It’s nothing,” he replied petulantly, his tone tinged with anger. “…I just didn’t want to go.”

Song Shuyan sensed something was amiss but couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause. Having never truly raised a child, she assumed Wei Xi’s rebelliousness stemmed from his growing aversion to authority figures. Recalling how her second brother had once criticized their father, she spoke carefully.

“When you assume power, these ministers will become your allies. If you don’t spend time with them now, how can you earn their loyalty?” She lectured earnestly. “You’ve grown up now, surely you can’t…”

“Grown up?”

Her words were cut off mid-sentence as Wei Xi suddenly looked up, his expression strange.

“Do you really think I’ve grown up?”

The question was odd, especially since he neither referred to himself as “your humble servant” nor addressed her as “Mother.” It came across more like an accusation. Song Shuyan frowned deeply, increasingly convinced that the young emperor harbored some resentment toward her. Perhaps he resented her tight grip on power and suspected her delays in returning it?

“Of course you’ve grown up…” she answered cautiously, not intending to brush him off. “Your Majesty possesses the wisdom of a dragon and the grace of a phoenix, fully capable of carrying on the late emperor’s legacy. This Empress merely…”

“I’m not talking about that,” Wei Xi interrupted again, his expression growing lonelier. “I…”

Both of them faltered, unsure of what to say next.

“If I’ve made a mistake…”

In the heavy silence, Wei Xi spoke first, his voice trembling as if on the verge of tears.

“…a big one, unspeakable and unforgivable…”

“Would you… forgive me?”

Song Shuyan was momentarily stunned. With all court affairs firmly under her control and no officials daring to act rashly without her consent, how much trouble could the young emperor possibly stir on his own? She relaxed slightly, her tone gentle and encouraging. “To err is human. Everyone makes mistakes—Xixi, tell your mother what has happened recently.”

Her gentleness was comforting, reminiscent of the affection she had inspired in him since their first meeting years ago. But now, something felt out of control—he yearned for her in ways that unsettled him.

Wei Xi’s heartbeat quickened. Staring at her beautiful, dreamlike face, he swallowed hard before abruptly grabbing her delicate wrist. “Don’t ask anymore—just answer me this: No matter what I’ve done wrong… would you still forgive me?”

He applied force, and Song Shuyan felt a sharp pain. In that moment, she realized the boy had grown stronger, though his words still carried a childish edge. Surprised and somewhat helpless, she consoled him: “Of course I’d forgive you. To err is human; to repent is divine. As long as Your Majesty doesn’t continue being so willful, I’ll walk this path with you.”

She referred to his avoidance of duties today, but Wei Xi interpreted it differently. Though he was hailed as the Son of Heaven, ruler of vast lands, in truth, only she remained by his side. He wanted to stay with her forever, holding her hand through life, cherishing even the ugliest, most forbidden feelings.

“You must remember what you said today—”

Suddenly, he threw down his utensils and knelt before her, his now taller frame awkwardly curling against her knees.

“For the rest of our lives… stay with me.”

He didn’t mention correcting his mistakes. His overly intimate proximity reminded Song Shuyan of his childhood antics, causing her slight discomfort. Still, the weight on her lap didn’t fully reach her heart—perhaps because, in her eyes, he was still just a child.

“All right…”

She sighed quietly.

“…Finish your meal now.”

The ordeal took a long time, and by the time they returned to Fuqing Palace, the moon had risen high.

Several memorials awaited her on the desk, but despite lighting the lamp, Song Shuyan found it difficult to focus. Eventually, she gave up and ordered incense and a bath prepared.

As usual, Chao Hua and Xi Xiu assisted, helping the Empress Dowager undress and step into the fragrant bath. Beneath her usual elaborate robes, she appeared even more youthful, her figure graceful, her skin like polished jade—truly a paragon of beauty.

The palace maids blushed, lamenting silently that such a beauty was widowed so young. Just then, the Empress Dowager slowly raised her hand from the water, waving gently. “You may leave. No need to attend me tonight.”

Chao Hua and Xi Xiu exchanged glances, thinking this unusual, but unable to inquire further. Before leaving, they respectfully bowed, saying, “We’ll wait outside. Call us if you need anything.”

Song Shuyan closed her eyes and gave a faint reply. Only when the door clicked shut did she slowly open her eyes. The steam swirled around the bath chamber, and her thoughts grew hazy amidst the milky mist.

Today…

…she had touched him.

Not a fleeting shadow, but his hand—when he helped her onto the horse, their contact brief yet deliberate. She had been sweating, and his hand had felt warm. She saw his profile, his jaw tightening for a moment.

He…

She sank deeper into the pool, enveloped by the warm water. Her mind seemed clouded, mirroring the swirling vapor. Why had he agreed to lead her horse today? She felt them drawing closer, emotions surging uncontrollably within her. He shouldn’t have given her these subtle responses—whether in the past or present, she would follow him with just a gesture.

She closed her eyes again. In the darkness, sensations were amplified. The water caressed her bare skin, tender like his elusive touch. She knew his hands well—the lines and ridges she had once traced delicately, cradling her own hand in his palm during idle chatter, easily enveloped and guided by him.

—Next time?

When would she touch him again?

Forbidden desires churned repeatedly. Her longing for him reached an unbearable intensity. Though she knew it was forbidden, she imagined endlessly—him gripping her tightly, fingers entwining shamelessly, their bond lingering day and night, or perhaps…

She submerged herself completely, the loss of breath bringing both pain and pleasure. She wanted to gasp for air but denied herself relief, remaining suspended in suffocating confinement. His face appeared in the rippling water, his hot breath sweeping over her body, his hands roaming freely, pulling her into a realm of desire and dragging her into a pit of sin.

At the brink of suffocation, she finally allowed herself to surface. Fresh air rushed into her lungs, reviving her—but her heart felt hollow. Her weary body continued to burn with heat. If he were here now, he would surely pull her into his arms without hesitation.

—He would kiss her, gripping her shoulders firmly, pressing his lips to hers from above, abandoning all restraint and decorum, even if watched by thousands.

…Third Brother.

Silently, she called his name, content in the depths of the night where no one could know.

Yet, simultaneously, she felt an unprecedented sense of… emptiness and loss.