FYM - 150

In the end, not a single tear fell from Song Shuyan’s eyes until she left the Song residence.

Everything was perfunctory: offering incense at her father’s altar, exchanging hypocritical words of condolence with relatives who hated her, and nodding politely to officials who urged her to “grieve less.” After enduring the entire day, she felt thousands of times more exhausted than after presiding over a full day of court meetings in Qian Ding Palace. By the time she returned to the palace, she was utterly drained.

She lacked the strength to handle affairs in Fengyang Hall and had no appetite for dinner. Upon returning to Fuqing Hall, she retired to the inner chambers early, leaving the lights on—though she didn’t know what she feared. But as soon as she closed her eyes, darkness inevitably enveloped her, and once again, she saw her father’s face in the void—lifeless, marked by corpse spots, so unfamiliar she barely recognized him.

A sudden heart palpitation struck; she clutched her chest, feeling as though she couldn’t breathe. The next moment, warmth enveloped her wrist—the real sensation startled her awake. Fang Xianting was sitting by her bed, his lowered gaze deep and reserved. He silently watched her, like a ray of light piercing through layers of entrapment.

“...Third Brother.”

But she didn’t embrace him, nor did she ask how he could appear before her without announcement, knowing that he was concerned about her and that the palace’s northern and southern military guards were under his command.

He didn’t force anything, as if his elaborate entrance was simply to look at her up close. His only transgression was gently touching her cheek and softly saying, “…Don’t cry.”

…Cry?

She paused, instinctively touching her eyes—dry, without a trace of tears. What tears?

“What are you talking about…”

She forced a faint smile.

“I clearly…”

His expression was one of understanding, tinged with tenderness. His hand, wiping away nonexistent tears, was unusually gentle. Words held no meaning at this moment; intense emotions surged within her. Only now did she feel a sudden pang in her nose, and the next moment, tears spilled from her eyes. The cold, stubborn stone finally learned to weep.

His gaze softened instantly. Their joys and sorrows had always been intertwined. He reached out, pulling her up and gently embracing her. His embrace was a sanctuary where she could collapse. She clung to him tightly, releasing an indescribable fear and pain. He heard her trembling voice say, “I couldn’t cry…”

“He was right in front of me… He’s already dead… but I couldn’t cry…”

“Maybe they’re right… I still hate him… It’s my fault… I killed him…”

Her strength was never false, but even she needed moments to catch her breath. No one could truly remain unmoved while “upholding justice against kin,” especially when their familial bonds were already thin and the rights and wrongs were clear.

“You’ve done your best…”

He sighed, holding her, his heart aching for her suffering.

“Lord Song’s passing was just an accident. You never intended to drive anyone to death…”

“Before he passed, he also advocated handling matters according to the law, never intending to oppose you with the entire clan… He must have understood your difficulties and didn’t want the Song family to become a target.”

She had heard these words before, and some of these truths she had come to understand over the past seven days. But now, in the silence of the night, her vulnerabilities were magnified by the presence of the person before her. Many things she usually couldn’t express finally came to light.

“Why did he speak up for me at the very end…”

She asked bitterly, unsure whether she was addressing Fang Xianting or her late father.

“He never spoke up for me in his entire life! Not once!... Why, at the very end, did he choose to defend me?”

“I would rather he had opposed me! I would rather he had hated and cursed me like those others!”

“What does it mean now?—What does it mean!”

Her twisted struggle was overwhelming; her questions were heart-wrenching. He suddenly understood her nature—to shatter jade rather than receive love piecemeal. Either give her nothing, or give her everything whole.

“I can never repay him…”

Her tears finally overflowed. Beneath the thick layers of pretense accumulated through fate’s twists, perhaps she had once deeply yearned for the love of the deceased.

“Third Brother, I can never repay him…”

He closed his eyes briefly, feeling as though she had emptied his heart. Perhaps his feelings for her were never just pity or compassion but an eternal connection of shared joys and sorrows, mutual support in hardship.

“Cry…”

In the end, this was all he could offer as comfort. After such profound empathy, words felt inadequate.

“…It’ll be okay once you cry.”

“Your Majesty—Your Majesty—”

There was a slight commotion in the western palace. The young emperor had personally gone to the kitchen to prepare porridge for his mother. The palace attendants were nervously attending to him, fearing this precious “ancestor” might hurt himself. After nearly an hour of preparation, he carefully carried the porridge toward Fuqing Hall, walking quickly to keep it warm, with the elderly Wang Mu struggling to keep up behind him.

“Your Majesty, please slow down—allow this old servant to announce your arrival first—”

The young emperor ignored him, thinking of his mother’s grief over losing her father and her fasting all day. How could he not worry? Everything she did was for him, and he was now her closest companion. If he didn’t care for her, who would?

“No need to announce—I’ll visit Mother myself—”

Wei Xi’s tone was firm, his eyes tinged with excitement at the thought of presenting his gift to his mother.

“You all stay outside. No one is allowed to disturb us.”

The attendants nodded obediently, watching as the young emperor carefully pushed open the doors of Fuqing Hall, balancing the bowl of porridge. Entering, he noticed the dim light still on in the inner chamber and tentatively called out, “Mother.” There was no response, only a muffled sound from deep within the hall, followed by rustling noises—as if someone was hurriedly moving.

Finding it strange but not dwelling on it, he called out from the outer chamber, “Mother, it’s your son…”

Without waiting for permission, he walked toward the inner chamber. Unaware of the danger, he took the few short steps forward.

“Mother—”

He saw the hanging bed curtains, the dim candlelight casting a soft silhouette of his mother—a sight that stirred his heart. Ignoring the faint mud stains beneath the bed and her slightly flustered tone, he heard her call, “…Xi’er?”

Her voice was hoarse, as if she had just cried. Wei Xi’s heart swelled with tenderness, eager to see her face.

“Son heard that Mother hadn’t eaten all night…”

Step by step, he approached her bed, even reaching out to lift the gauze curtain.

Only a curtain separated Song Shuyan from him, and Fang Xianting, unable to leave in time, was now hidden among her fragrant pillows and silk quilts. Her heart raced wildly; all decorum abandoned, she blurted out, “Don’t come in!”

Her urgency carried a sharp edge. Wei Xi froze mid-step, his outstretched hand stiffening. His voice became uncertain, asking, “…Mother, what’s wrong? Are you unwell?”

Song Shuyan’s mind was still chaotic until Fang Xianting’s hand tightened around hers beneath the quilt, bringing her back slightly. Meeting his gaze, she finally took a deep breath and calmed herself. When she spoke again, her tone was steady: “Without announcement, how dare you enter the inner chamber? Go wait outside. Mother will come shortly.”

The young emperor responded, his tone tinged with disappointment. Perhaps his “filial piety” hadn’t received immediate praise. Reluctantly, he withdrew, waiting outside for a while before Mother emerged, having changed clothes. Seeing her red, swollen eyes, he felt immense pity, hurriedly serving tea and ladling porridge to care for her. But her thoughts seemed distant, as if she were far, far away.

“Does the porridge suit Mother’s taste?”

He tried to gain favor with trivial talk.

“Son consulted the kitchen and the Imperial Medical Office, adding red dates and sesame seeds to nourish the blood and qi.”

Song Shuyan’s thoughts were entirely on Fang Xianting, separated by only a wall. The young emperor’s words barely registered. She managed to murmur a few words of “very good,” unable to say anything else.

“As for Lady Song’s matter…”

Wei Xi carefully observed her expression, cautiously mentioning Lady Wan.

“She offended Mother and deserves severe punishment. But considering she is Lord Song’s widow, to protect Mother’s reputation, her misconduct should be lightly punished…”

He feared Mother might find it unsatisfactory, but in truth, Lady Wan and her household never existed in Song Shuyan’s eyes. She shook her head, saying indifferently, “No punishment. Send some gifts and comforting words. Tomorrow, for Lord Song’s burial… I will go again.”

Wei Xi was startled, not expecting her to face the Song family again tomorrow. Today, they had already humiliated her. In his view, they deserved a harsh reprimand. But whatever she said, he was willing to heed. Acknowledging her wishes, Song Shuyan nodded, wanting to set down the spoon but forced to continue eating bite by bite under the young emperor’s expectant gaze.

“Let me have someone bring some dishes for Mother—after a whole day’s toil, how can a few sips of porridge suffice?”

Not waiting for Song Shuyan to refuse, he called for Wang Mu, who had been waiting outside. Smiling warmly, Wang Mu led a group of palace maids into the hall. His gaze lingered momentarily on the inner chamber, spotting the unclosed window and the faint sway of the bed curtains. Having served in the palace for decades, he knew every detail of each hall’s customary incense. Even the slightest difference in scent caught his attention.

Perhaps…

He narrowed his eyes slightly, then turned his gaze toward the Empress Dowager sitting beside the young emperor. Her beauty had grown over the years, exuding a subtle allure that wasn’t there before. Having served in the palace for so long, he understood well the cause of such subtle changes…

“Your Majesty, be careful…”

He smiled, rolling up the young emperor’s sleeves to prevent him from getting dirty here, then stepped back with a gradually chilling expression.

His gaze toward Song Shuyan… was thoughtful.