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All sounds were silent, and a thick white mist flowed ahead, filling the air with an enchanting sweetness. Everything was eerily dreamlike.
Who was he?
Where was this body?
A slender hand brushed away the dancing mist, also brushing away long-dormant memories...
...
It was so noisy outside; the small body wriggled like a silkworm cocoon in the brocade quilt.
“Hurry! Hurry!”
“Quickly! Her Highness is about to give birth!”
The chaotic footsteps echoed outside the hall, sounding panicked and disoriented.
“Mmm...” A soft complaint came from within the quilt. “So noisy.”
A plain-looking woman knelt by the head of the bed, gently patting the “cocoon”: “Your Highness, it will be over soon.”
“No good! No good!”
A shrill female voice startled the little person into sitting up abruptly. His beautiful peach-shaped eyes revealed some confusion and fear: “Zhang Lian?”
“Don't be afraid, Your Highness.” The woman covered his slightly trembling little hand, softly responding. “This servant has always been by your side.”
The little one sighed in relief, his dense lashes fluttering gently, dispelling the haze in his eyes.
“Who's not good?” A soft childish voice asked.
“No one's not good. Your Highness had a nightmare.” The woman deceived him, helping her young master lie down slowly. Her eyes, however, worriedly looked towards the front hall.
“Y... Y... Your Majesty...” The eunuch’s voice trembled, almost shouting out a broken sentence. “His Majesty... His Majesty has arrived!”
“Father?” The little one pushed away the wet nurse's arms and ran off, dragging his shoes. “Father!”
He rushed to the corridor with loose hair, the blinding lights making him squint his beautiful eyes. It was night, wasn't it? Why was it so glaringly bright?
“Your Highness, why have you come out?”
He recognized this voice; it was the Chief Eunuch beside his father.
He gradually adapted to the surrounding brightness, and the scenery before his eyes became clearer. “I...” He opened his mouth to speak but suddenly heard a sharp rebuke.
“Wan Jingwen, how dare you!”
It was his father, but why was his father so angry? He sidestepped the eunuch and looked ahead nervously. An old man with graying hair was kneeling on the ground, shaking like a bamboo toy. Hmm, he recognized this person; the old man had come at noon. Zhang Lian said he was here to take care of his mother concubine and his yet-to-be-born younger brother.
“This subject... this subject... wouldn't dare.”
“Wouldn't dare?!” The young king kicked him, and the old man rolled twice, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
“Father...” This unfamiliar father frightened the little one, who stepped back in fear.
“The Concubine drank the tonic you prescribed, causing premature labor. Wouldn’t dare? I see you’re too daring!”
Premature labor? What was that?
The little one retreated to his wet nurse’s side, looking up in confusion. The woman held his slightly cool little hand without saying much.
“Your Majesty!” The Imperial Doctor crawled to the king's feet, blood still on his lips. “Even if you gave me ten thousand guts, I wouldn't dare harm the Concubine and the unborn little prince! Your Majesty!”
The king's eyes were icy cold, his piercing gaze almost penetrating the old man on the ground.
“Besides the tonic, what else did the Concubine eat tonight?” A chilling inquiry.
“Replying to Your Majesty, the Concubine hasn't been feeling well recently. She only had a bowl of Five Blessings Lotus Seed Soup tonight.”
The dragon-like eyes turned to the side: “Was it made in the palace kitchen?”
“No...”
The king's stern brows suddenly furrowed: “Then who sent it!”
“It... it... it...”
The king glared angrily, and the palace maid instantly knelt down.
“It was sent by Consort De. Consort De heard that the Concubine preferred bland food, so she specially stewed a pot of lotus seed soup.” The person on the ground spoke very quickly. “The Concubine didn’t want to offend Consort De, so she drank the entire bowl in front of Consort De's senior maid.”
The king stood with his head bowed, a faint shadow covering his face. “You mean the one who brought the soup kept watching?” This question was as light as a feather but as sharp as a blade.
“Yes...” The palace maid also lowered her head, no one could see the slight curve at the corner of her lips.
“Dexian.” The voice was somewhat suppressed, the king closing his eyes, seemingly trying hard to restrain himself. “What needs to be done, you should understand by now.”
The Chief Eunuch sucked in a breath and cautiously responded: “Yes.”
Understood what? The little one looked puzzled at the Chief Eunuch who hurried past. He gently shook the wet nurse's hand: “Zhang Lian?”
The woman pulled him into the shadows, her eyes full of earnestness: “Your Highness, don't ask.”
Zhang Lian just wanted to preserve the purity in the young lord's heart, so please don't ask. She crouched halfway, holding his pink little face, gazing into those pure black pupils.
“Alright, I won't ask.” The little one reached out to wipe the wetness from the wet nurse's eyes. “Don't cry, crying makes you ugly.”
“Mm.” The woman grabbed those little hands, her voice trembling. “Mm...”
“Her Highness! Her Highness!” Several urgent shouts came from the inner hall.
The king abruptly opened his eyes and kicked open the tightly closed red door: “Nuan'er!”
“Your Majesty, the birthing room is inauspicious!”
“Please reconsider, Your Majesty!”
“Get out of the way!” The king was furious, waving his sleeves to push aside everyone's obstruction. “Nuan'er!”
The little one stood frozen in place, silently watching the chaotic scene. Everything seemed to be overturned tonight; each person here seemed to have two faces.
Peaceful yet irritable, that was the king.
Obedient yet resentful, that was the imperial doctor.
Frank yet obscure, that was Zhang Lian.
Then, what about Mother Concubine?
He tilted his head, thinking deeply.
Mother Concubine was affectionate and smiling when facing him, but cold and silent when facing the king. Indeed, Mother Concubine also had two faces.
Then, what about him? Did he need to grow another face?
The little one wiped his slightly cool cheeks. Of course, he must! He was the prodigy praised by the Grand Tutor, the envied Little Nine among his brothers. How could he fall behind? Moreover, this world would all be his in the future. Yes, it was his. Although he didn't quite understand how big the “world” was, it was destined to be his. Therefore, therefore, he needed three, four, five faces, definitely more than his father's.
Thinking of this, he began pulling at his pink little face. Grow out, grow out, Little Nine's new face!
“Your Highness!” Accompanied by hurried footsteps, a round-faced maid ran out from the inner hall. “Your Highness, Her Highness calls for you.”
The little one's eyes sparkled brightly, and he hurriedly ran towards the door.
“Her Highness...”
A strange muffled voice came from behind. He stopped, turned around, and saw Zhang Lian wanting to cry again?
“Her Highness...” The wet nurse struggled to speak. At this moment, letting the young lord go in, could it be... If so, how could the young lord bear it, how could he endure it?
“Sister Zhang, why are you looking so bitter?” The round-faced maid wiped the sweat from her head. “As soon as His Majesty entered, Her Highness gave birth. What auspicious qi!”
“Born?” The little one blinked, his beautiful eyes curving into crescents. “Hey.” He tugged at the maid's dress, shaking it vigorously. “Am I a big brother now?”
“Yes, my little ancestor!” The maid was about to catch his little hand when she saw him turn and run towards the bedroom. “Hey! Your Highness! Her Highness is eager to see you!”
“I'm a big brother now! A big brother!” He ran against the wind, his robe and black hair dancing with the breeze.
He had a younger brother now, a real one! Just like Second Brother and Third Brother, they always played together and never spoke ill of each other. Last year on his birthday, he made a wish for a close, dear younger brother. In the future, when he ruled the world, he would share half of it with his brother. They would play with spinning tops together, ride bamboo horses together, and...
He panted heavily as he ran into the inner chamber, pulling something out from beside the pillow. Without bothering about his fallen shoes, he ran barefoot back the way he came.
And, and... they could play with bamboo dragonflies together!
The little hand clutched an ugly bamboo dragonfly; his curved eyes couldn't contain all his joy, and his innocent laughter scattered along the way, lighting up every palace maid's heart.
So, the young lord had always been very lonely.
“Mother Consort! Mother Consort!” He raised his arms high and excitedly rushed to the bedside. “Look, look, this is what Xiao Jiu made.”
The delicate woman’s hair was damp, and she lay limp among the quilts, only her beautiful eyes still able to blink feebly.
“Yiran.” A deep voice hovered over his head. The little one looked up to see the tall king standing by the bed curtain, his eyes somewhat stern. “Your mother consort is tired.”
“Oh,” he wrinkled his nose and gently pinched his mother's slender fingers exposed outside the quilt. “Please rest well, Mother Consort. Xiao Jiu will go see my younger brother.”
The weak, beautiful eyes widened slightly, a hint of a smile flickering in them.
The little one protectively held the bamboo dragonfly like a treasure and walked towards the bustling antechamber.
“Nuan'er, you've worked hard.” A soft sigh sounded behind him. “I forbid you from giving birth again, absolutely no more.” It was somewhat like his tone when asking for candy, very spineless. Hmm? Spineless? His thick lashes fluttered, and he turned to look again. His father looked like an abandoned dog, while his mother maintained her usual coldness, even closing her eyes.
“What a beautiful child.”
“Yes, yes, not inferior to the young lord at all.”
He turned his little head, mustered all his strength, and squeezed into the crowd: “Where, where, where is my younger brother!”
Suddenly, everything around him went quiet. He climbed onto a round stool, soon to meet his long-desired younger brother.
“Hahaha!”
A few loud laughs nearly caused him to lose his balance. He steadied himself, anger flashing in his black pupils.
“Oh my goodness, my dear young lord, who told you that Her Highness gave birth to a boy?”
“Not... a... younger brother?” He understood the maid's teasing and asked softly.
A red bundle of cotton caught his eye. He held his breath and stared intently.
“It's a sister, the young lord’s little sister.”
A sister? He reached out his small hand and tremulously touched the pink “bundle.” She was so tiny, all wrinkled, and a bit ugly.
He tilted his head, looking and touching seriously.
It didn’t matter if it wasn’t a brother. Being a bit ugly didn’t matter either. After all, it was his own little sister, his very own little sister.
Thinking of this, he held up the equally ugly bamboo dragonfly and gently spoke into the “bundle's” ear: “Sister, this is a gift from your big brother, made by me. How do you like it? Aren't you impressed by me?”
“Wu...” The “bundle” suddenly made a faint sound, and the palace maids fell silent, watching.
“Wu...” The tiny purple lips quivered slightly.
It seemed the premature princess hadn't cried at birth. What was happening now? Could it be a sibling connection?
The palace maids watched expectantly, listening carefully.
His beloved little sister had just responded. The little one leaned down: “Sister, are you really impressed by me?”
“Wu...”
He moved closer, and those tightly closed little eyes suddenly opened wide, scaring him out of his wits.
“Pop pop, pop pop.” Black blood bubbled out of the “bundle’s” mouth and nose, making strange sounds.
“Blood, blood, it's black blood!” A twisted scream echoed in his ears. “Quick, call the imperial doctor!”
He stood motionless, as if losing his soul. Suddenly, a stench sprayed onto his face, staining his pupils black. And, it stained the heavens and earth.
“Your Highness!”
“Ninth Young Lord!”
Alas, his beloved little sister...
...
Ugly bamboo dragonflies flew everywhere, enveloping him in sticky black mist.
He, Ling Yiran, the Ninth Prince of Qing Country. At five years old, he once had a younger sister who died right in front of him.
Hadn't he already forgotten? How could he return to those days?
His chest felt a bit sore, the familiar stench rising in his throat.
“Yunzhi...”
A distant call came, making him feel so attached.
“Yunzhi?”
The gentle tone was like clear spring water, washing away the stench in his mouth.
“Yunzhi!”
A faint light was right before his eyes.
“Yun... zhi, wake up, Yunzhi...”
Fine rain wet his eyelids, making everything blurry.
“He's awake, he's awake!” The trembling, buzzing voice called, “Yunzhi? Yunzhi.”
He rested his head on something warm and soft, feeling some bumps beneath him. Slowly, his eyes found focus.
“Yunzhi? How are you? Does it hurt?”
The two red lips before him were as beautiful as flowers, captivating him. His gaze slowly moved upward, meeting the delicate yet slightly pale face of a youth. Further up, he met those tearful, beautiful eyes.
“Do you want some water?”
He stared unwaveringly, as if gazing through millennia.
“Yunzhi?”
His slender fingers crawled up her moon-like visage, searching until they reached her white, smooth ear.
Two faces—he didn't want to face the second one. His fingertips searched until they finally removed the mask.
The beautiful moonlight shone above, her pure face flawless like jade, resembling bamboo seen through clouds, the moon reflected in water, and flowers viewed through fog—indescribably elegant and refined.
“Qingqing...” He suddenly felt the hoarseness in his voice, “Qingqing...” Pain wracked his body, but a faint smile graced his lips.
“Yunzhi, hold on a little longer, we'll be home soon.”
Home? He felt like he had no home.
His fingertips slid gently down her lotus-like face, finally resting on her pink lips.
So soft, soft enough to make him want to devour her whole.
“Yunzhi.” Her tempting lips parted and closed, causing saliva to unconsciously flow in his mouth.
“Later, let Xiu Yuan take a look, alright?”
The peach blossom eyes tightened abruptly, and his long fingers moved down to her fine white chin.
He gritted his teeth: “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Yunzhi...”
“You... you...” Black blood with a foul stench overflowed from his mouth. “Do you want me to... die with my eyes un-closed...”
“No, no.” The person before him showed unprecedented panic, her delicate fingers trembling as she wiped his lips. “No, Yunzhi, no.”
He grabbed her soft hand with all his strength, glaring at her: “Then don't mention him, and don't think about him.”
A trace of pain appeared in her beautiful eyes, but he ignored it and continued to press: “Your eyes are only allowed to see me.”
The autumn water trembled, and she sighed faintly, wringing out the wet cloth, quietly and silently wiping him.
“Qingqing.” He lay limp in her arms, enjoying the rare tenderness.
“Mm.”
“Sing a song.” His eyes were hazy as he looked up. “The one on Dream Lake.”
“Alright.”
He grasped her slender wrist, earnestly adding: “Only for me.”
“...Alright...”
He blossomed into a smile, closing his eyes contentedly.
“Crystal clear waters, serene and tranquil, a breeze drifts over the lake, ah, heart, oh heart, be still, be still. ...” The ethereal white mist reappeared, the enchanting sweet fragrance seeped into his nose, and once again, he walked into the void world.
As he had expected, Third Brother didn’t dare to poison him; the wine must have contained the “Seven Fragrance” drug from the Huang family in the northwest.
One and two segments break the heart, three and four segments wound the soul.
Five and six segments leave the heart wistful, and when the seven fragrances dissipate, all will be forgotten.
Trapping people in the past, not leading to death but immersing them in a seven-stage dream, gradually forgetting today's time.
If she knew that what he drank was not poisoned wine, if she knew he did this with ulterior motives, if she knew he indeed tricked her, what would that foolish girl do?
Hmm, she would probably be very angry.
So, he wouldn’t tell her the truth, he wouldn’t.
The gentle breeze stirred the mist, the thin veil swayed before his eyes, and the melodious music entered his ears.
“... Thousands of autumns by the river, thousands of moons, love deeply, feelings deeply, dreams deeply, souls deeply. ...” The poignant and moving song entwined around his clothes, and he couldn’t help but walk forward, that was...
...
“Just because there is this moon of thousands of autumns, hearts experience joy and sorrow, fullness and emptiness, life and death, partings and reunions.”
New bamboo-like slender fingers gently tapped, the little one seemed to fall into a sweet dream.
“Her Highness?”
The beauty on the couch combed her cloud-like hair, gently covering the child with a light quilt, carefully slipping away. She didn’t know that as soon as she stepped onto her golden lotus shoes, the little one had already quietly opened his eyes.
In the outer hall, the Chief Eunuch bowed deeply with his duster: “This humble servant has seen Her Highness, the Concubine, Your Highness...”
“There’s no need for formalities.” A clear voice sounded somewhat cold. “What is the matter?”
Dexian raised his head, meeting those glassy eyes. This Consort, though possessing the king's exclusive affection, was stingy with smiles. What she truly desired was unfathomable.
“The King has sent medicine, commanding this humble servant to ensure Her Highness drinks it.”
“Lord Dexian, what kind of medicine is this?” The senior palace maid took the jade bowl and asked casually.
“It is...” Dexian lowered his head deeply, “...Wuzi Soup.”
The palace maid's wrist went limp, and just as the jade bowl was about to slip, it was suddenly caught by someone.
“Her Highness?” The palace maid looked up in astonishment.
A flicker of relief and joy appeared in her beautiful eyes. She glanced at the contents of the bowl and without hesitation, tilted her head back and drank it down.
“Her Highness!” The palace maid cried out involuntarily, “You can't!”
The beauty gently wiped the corner of her mouth, a smile curling her red lips: “Dexian, don’t forget to thank His Majesty on my behalf.”
“Yes...” The Chief Eunuch was somewhat stunned. It was the first time the Consort had smiled at him, truly a beauty akin to the goddess Gushè.
“Her Highness...” His shoulders quivered, as if sobbing softly.
The beauty frowned, her lovely eyes filled with doubt.
“His Majesty’s painstaking efforts have not been in vain; Her Highness finally understands.” Dexian raised his tear-filled eyes, comfort visible in them. “This humble servant is truly happy for both masters, truly for...” His voice abruptly cut off as he clearly saw those beautiful eyes. They were not filled with gratitude or tenderness, but with relief.
Wuzi Soup? The little one hid behind the curtain, biting his finger and pondering deeply. What was Wuzi Soup? Why did the palace maid sister look so shocked? Why did Mother drink it so calmly? Why did Dexian hesitate to speak? Why...
Countless whys tangled in his mind. By the time he understood he would never have another close younger brother or sister, it was already too late.
It was already... too late...
“What has Her Highness eaten or drunk recently?” The old imperial doctor asked in a low voice.
“Since that incident, Her Highness’s daily meals have been shared with His Majesty, except... except...”
“Except what?” The king tightly held the beauty's soft hand, his eyes flaming.
The palace maid closed her eyes and bit her lip, forcing out a sentence: “Except for the bowl of Wuzi Soup His Majesty sent.”
The dragon eyes slightly bulged, and the king gazed painfully at the sleeping beauty: “Dexian.”
“This humble servant is here.”
The king did not doubt Dexian. After all, they had grown up together, always inseparable master and servant. If there was one person in the world he could trust, it was him.
“This humble servant dares to guarantee with my life that the bowl of Wuzi Soup was absolutely clean.” Dexian straightened his body, speaking clearly. “From obtaining the medicine, boiling it, to pouring it into the bowl, every step was personally done by this humble servant, without a moment's negligence.”
“Hmm.” The king responded, his figure showing signs of fatigue. He scrutinized her delicate face inch by inch.
“Imperial Doctor!” He roared softly, “Why is there a flower bud appearing on the Concubine’s forehead?”
“A flower bud?”
A flower bud? The little one bent over, peering through the gaps between people. A small flower bud faintly appeared between Mother’s brows, trembling slightly.
...
Trembling, the little hand touched her brow, trying to stop the impending bloom of the flower.
“Mother.” He stared unblinkingly at her beautiful face.
“Hmm?” The beauty forced herself to stay awake, responding softly.
“What flower is this?” He gently stroked it repeatedly, unable to stop the gracefully swaying white flower.
The beauty's eyes were half-closed in a daze, mumbling: “Ephemeral flower.”
“Ephemeral flower?” The little hand paused, his delicate brows furrowed together. “An ephemeral flower blooming briefly, that’s not auspicious.”
“All flowers are auspicious.” The beauty’s cool slender fingers caressed his small cheek. “It’s people who are inauspicious.”
“People?”
“Especially the people here.” The beauty extended her lotus-like arm, pulling the little one into her embrace. “Yiran, Mother loves you so much.”
“Mother...” This word was more intimate than “Consort,” and he liked it. “Child also loves Mother.”
“Bringing Yiran into this world is the only good thing Mother has done since entering the palace.”
The only one? What about Father? Father loves you so much. Although he had doubts in his heart, he didn't ask. His face still bore an innocent smile. His second face, unknowingly, had grown.
“In Mother's heart, Yiran is the most handsome, the coolest, and the smartest child.”
“In this child's eyes, Mother is the most beautiful, gentlest, and wisest mother.”
Mother and son laughed together, and for the first time since that night, he felt happiness.
“Yiran.” Her delicate fingers brushed aside his disheveled hair; her beautiful eyes were unusually clear, no longer lazy. “Don’t take anything from this palace. If others want it, let them have it. Never fight for it, okay?”
He raised his head, looking at her with confusion. In his eyes was the sorrowful face of his mother consort. The final filament of the night-blooming cereus unfolded, blooming quietly.
“Okay,” he responded softly.
The southern spring breeze blew gently, making her celestial sleeves flutter. She smiled like a blooming night-blooming cereus—resolute brilliance, an instant eternity.
“Yunzhi.” A smile lingered on her lips, her eyes somewhat hazy. “Ling Yiran, styled Yunzhi, this is the courtesy name your mother gives you.”
“Yunzhi...” he murmured to himself. “Yunzhi...”
Her dark hair was thicker than usual, clouds of beauty spread out luxuriantly. The beauty leaned against the couch screen, holding the little one close to her chest, slowly closing her eyes.
“Yunzhi, Mother is so tired, I want to sleep.”
His enchanting, drowsy peach blossom eyes blinked and blinked, but he saw the petals of the night-blooming cereus on her forehead fall one by one, silently fading.
“Mother?” He nudged the beauty with rosy cheeks. “Mother, don't sleep. Talk to Yunzhi, Mother?”
No response for a long while, the beauty slept soundly, a smile still lingering on her lips.
“Zhonglang...” she murmured softly in her dream.
Zhonglang? The little one in her arms raised an eyebrow.
“...Farewell...”
With this soft laugh from the beauty, the last petal of the night-blooming cereus fell.
In that instant, he seemed to hear the sound of the flower falling, very light, very beautiful.
Under this lazy spring day, mother and son embraced and quietly fell asleep.
...
Ling Yiran, styled Yunzhi, when he was six years old, his mother consort passed away suddenly, right beside him.
A fragrant rain of flowers fell, mingling with the wet mist clinging to his jet-black hair. He extended his long fingers, brushing off the dazzling, crystal-like fallen flowers with disdain, walking forward without any attachment.
From then on, he hated the night-blooming cereus the most, detested the falling of flowers, and found it hardest to sleep in spring.
Just as he was about to step into the white light, suddenly a violent wind arose, and the swirling petals filled the sky, blurring his vision.
The fallen red formed three segments of fragrance, the jade-like face desolate, the soul silently wounded.
...
“Brother Nine, Brother Nine.” Footsteps echoed behind him.
He swept away his melancholy, putting on a cheerful smile: “Twelfth Brother, slow down a bit.”
After his mother consort passed away, he was sent to be raised by Consort Liu. Surprisingly, the delicate Consort Liu gave birth to such a sturdy Twelfth Brother.
“Brother Nine!” Little Twelve, who only reached his chest, grinned widely with a toothless smile, resembling the blazing sun in June. “I want this!”
His smiling eyes suddenly turned cold, staring at the ugly bamboo dragonfly, momentarily speechless.
“Brother Nine, I really like it. Can you give it to me?” Little Twelve tugged at his sleeve, twisting around. “Please, Brother Nine, please.”
Two deep pools of eyes, very deep, so deep that not a single reflection could be seen.
“Moran.”
Softly spoken, though not calling him, it pricked his heart. Now, his mother's gentle voice could only be heard in dreams.
He masked the coldness in his eyes with a bittersweet look, quickly painting a smile on his face: “If Twelfth Brother likes it, take it.” Though his response was casual, his eyes still lingered affectionately.
“Ah, Yiran is here too.”
“Mother Consort.” He put on an innocent smile, sweetly calling out, but it didn't reach his heart.
Though Consort Liu wasn't the most beautiful in the palace, her nature was the kindest. Perhaps that was why Father entrusted him to Consort Liu.
He lowered his gaze, lost in thought, always wearing a smile on his face.
Not knowing how long it had been, a slightly choked female voice sounded beside him: “Your Highness...”
“Hmm?” He gathered his thoughts and looked up. “What is it, Zhang Lian?”
The wet nurse pursed her lips, her eyes full of pity: “That bamboo dragonfly... you didn't have to give it away.”
His heart trembled, but his smile didn't fade: “Yunzhi, Yunzhi, it's just a lifeless object.”
“Your Highness...”
“Hmm?”
“Please stop smiling.” Large tears hung on her eyelids. “Such a smile doesn't suit you.”
“Zhang Lian.”
“Hmm?” The wet nurse covered her face and responded softly.
“Stop crying.”
“Your Highness?”
He gazed at the rolling black clouds in the sky, his eyes calm, showing not a ripple.
“This kind of crying.” A faint sneer escaped his red lips. “Doesn't suit this palace.”
Thunder boomed, startling the wet nurse where she stood, blue-purple lightning reflected in her eyes.
“The weather has changed.” A ghostly voice drifted in the southern wind. “Zhang Lian, Cheng Bi, let's go back.”
There was no sunlight on the dim ground, but a shadow followed behind him—a shadow that must never be seen by a third person...
Outside the window, lotus leaves spread far and wide, newly blossomed lotuses decorated among them after the rain. Clear dewdrops slid slowly along the edges of the lotus leaves, startling the koi fish gathered around the lotus stems to scatter.
“A man of virtue naturally looks down upon his ruler; an unworthy ruler also looks down upon men of virtue.”
Inside the window, the Grand Tutor droned on with dull phrases. He lazily propped his cheek on his hand, glancing forward indifferently.
The first desk had been empty for a long time. Not long after Consort De was executed, the usually healthy eldest brother “died of illness.” Among those in the palace who lost their mothers, he was the only one who survived until now.
“If they keep looking down on each other, when will they ever understand each other? If we consider the discussions of Hua Han and the attire of You Yi.”
Sitting side by side were his second and third brothers, whom he once envied as real brothers, but now they had grown distant. Fourth Brother was frail and never came to the study, Fifth and Sixth Brothers were somewhat dull, and Seventh Brother...
He slightly unfocused his eyes, looking indifferently.
Seventh Brother was the only one among the brothers who had always shown only one face. However, the smile on Seventh Brother’s face was familiar to him, like looking into a mirror. But that hypocritical face was his mask, yet it was Seventh Brother’s true face.
“Ninth Prince?”
When did this old man stand beside him? He blinked his peach blossom eyes, standing up somewhat timidly: “Grand Tutor Zhou...”
“Ninth Prince, can you explain the meaning of that sentence just now?”
“What? What?” He looked around for help, but all he received were looks of schadenfreude. “I forgot to listen...” He lowered his head, hiding his expression.
“Why are you spacing out again?” The old man sighed deeply. “Where did the cleverness of composing couplets at three and poems at five go? Alas, I mistakenly regarded you as a prodigy. It seems you were just a fleeting brilliance.”
His small fists clenched tightly inside his sleeves. He coldly stared at the gold-threaded brocade boots of the Grand Tutor, his eyes growing darker and darker.
Mother, you were right. It’s people who are inauspicious. Back then, when you were the sole favorite of the harem, this child was only five years old and already being hailed as a prodigy by the Grand Tutor, praised as a genius that comes once in a hundred years. But now that you’re gone, things have cooled down. Even the Grand Tutor, full of sacred texts, has started kicking those who are already down. If it weren’t for my status as a prince, he might have even scolded me as a “fool.”
Haha, now Mother Empress and Mother Consort Hua are at odds, and the Grand Tutor has begun praising Second Brother, Third Brother, and Seventh Brother. Mother, without needing me—Yunzhi—they easily obtained what they wanted. Now, what do I have left to give? All that remains is this life of mine.
The study was filled with sneering laughter, but he responded with a mindless, foolish grin.
How many masks had he put on now? The fifth, or the sixth?
He… couldn’t even remember anymore.
Walking alone into the evening glow, his shadow stretched long behind him, tinged with loneliness.
“Ninth Brother!”
He stopped in his tracks and turned around, only to see a handsome youth running towards him with a smile.
“Seventh Brother.” Returning kindness with kindness, he smiled even more brightly.
“We’re on the same path, let’s walk together.” Seventh Brother had naturally warm eyes.
“Alright.” He was no less charming.
“Ninth Brother, tonight is the Qianqiao Festival.”
“Yes.” He put on his fourth mask, smoothly agreeing.
“Oh, Ninth Brother, have you heard? There are ghosts haunting the Imperial Garden.”
“Ghosts?” He suddenly froze, putting on another face, his eyes filled with fear.
“Is Ninth Brother scared?” A concerned good brother asked.
“No… no… I’m not scared at all!”
“Then…” Warm eyes sparkled, “Does Ninth Brother dare to come with me to catch the ghost?”
His pale little face was a newly grown one.
“Hmm? Is Ninth Brother really afraid?”
“Of course not!” He patted his chest, pretending to be brave. “Let’s go!”
“But Ninth Brother, you mustn’t tell anyone else about this. If you do, we won’t be able to go.”
“I understand! Seventh Brother!”
“Oh dear, it’s about time. Mother will probably look for me soon.” The warm-eyed youth looked anxious. “Ninth Brother, you should head back early too. Don’t be late for the Qiao family banquet. Ninth Brother, see you tonight!”
“See you tonight, Seventh Brother!”
Facing the setting sun, half of his small face was bright, while the other half was dim and unclear.
“Cheng Bi.” He called out to his shadow.
“Your servant is here.” This person was secretly sent to the palace by his maternal grandfather after his mother passed away. His task was to protect this precarious little life of his.
Holding his books, he walked along the edge of the dense shade, calmly watching the evening light.
“Do you think there are ghosts in this world?”
The summer breeze rustled through the green leaves.
“There probably are.” An uncertain voice came from within the shade.
“Then what kind of ghost do you think my Seventh Brother wants to catch?”
“Your servant is dull.” The rustling sound from the treetops grew louder.
He gazed at the gradually fading sunset, a beautiful curve forming at the corner of his lips.
...
So, it was a “lustful ghost” after all. Holding a candle, he coldly watched the people hiding behind the artificial mountain.
Very carefully, he backed away but hit a hard stone wall. Yes, the exit had been blocked by Seventh Brother. He was probably trapped now.
“Second Brother?” The youth before him was seven years older, with fine stubble growing on his chin.
“Who are you?” His voice was thick with desire, abnormally hoarse.
“It’s me, Xiao Jiu.” He looked at the bulge in the youth's groin, feeling a slight stir. “Second Brother, why are you here?” He steadied his tone, trying to buy some time.
“Why am I here? Why am I here?” The youth's mind was clearly clouded. He tugged at his collar, stepping closer. “I drank wine and ended up here.”
“Who gave you the wine?” He subtly shifted to the left.
“Who?” The youth's face was flushed, his groin swelling more and more. “Hehe, hehehe.”
An eerie laugh echoed through the small cave of the artificial mountain.
“Beauty, come here.”
The youth staggered forward step by step. He tried to retreat further but found himself with no way to escape.
“Second Brother, snap out of it!” His small hand pressed against the youth’s half-naked chest. He was surprised by the heat radiating from it. “Second Brother, it’s me, Xiao Jiu! Second Brother!”
“Oh, so your name is Jiu-er.” The tall figure suddenly leaned down. “What a beauty.”
“Second Brother, don’t fall for Seventh Brother’s trap! He wants to ruin us both!” He struggled, trying to break free from the youth’s grasp.
But the person who had lost his wits paid no heed. Like a beast, he pinned him down.
“Second Brother!” He was too arrogant, underestimating Seventh Brother’s cunning.
With all his strength, he couldn’t overpower the person on top of him. When the large hardness approached his lower body, his mind went blank.
“Cheng Bi!”
“Cheng Bi”
The echo roared like thunder.
When he regained his heartbeat, he saw the youth lying face down on the ground. His robes were already soaked with cold sweat.
Panting heavily, he slowly focused, turned his eyes, closed them, and sighed.
“Your subordinate is late, causing Your Highness to be frightened.” The shadow knelt at his feet, his tone filled with self-reproach.
He was already drained of strength, allowing the shadow to pick him up.
Against the night wind, one person and one shadow floated over the palace.
“Cheng Bi.” His voice still trembled slightly. “What drug did my Second Brother take?”
“It’s…” The shadow glanced at the arm holding him, unsure whether to reveal the truth to a child.
“What drug?”
“The First Spring.” The shadow spoke very euphemistically.
“So it’s an aphrodisiac after all.” He sighed softly. “Is this drug potent?”
“Mm, if within two hours he doesn’t…” The shadow’s face flushed faintly, forcing himself to continue. “If he doesn’t engage in sexual activity with a woman, he will burst and die.”
So Seventh Brother didn’t want to destroy them; he wanted to kill them. He gazed at the moonless night, a chill spreading through his heart.
Mother, did you see? They even want this life of mine.
Mother, the word “Yunzhi” has a second meaning: Yunzhi Yunzhi, allowing oneself.
Mother, I never told you. Besides my life, there’s one more thing I can’t give up.
A glimmer flashed across his dark pupils, and a beautiful curve appeared on his lips in the night.
It’s this world!
“Cheng Bi.”
“Your Highness.”
“Later, go to the Luanfeng Palace.”
The shadow leapt down from the eaves and gently carried him into the sleeping quarters without waking the wet nurse who was sleeping inside.
“Bind the personal maid of my Seventh Brother and take her away.” He took off his torn outer robe and calmly burned it.
“Take her... where?” The shadow looked at the little face illuminated by the firelight, hesitantly speaking.
“Hmph, as a younger brother, I can't just watch my older brother die miserably.”
“...”
“Go quickly, if you delay, chaos will erupt in this palace.” Those eyes were deep, not like those of a child.
“Yes.”
He stood with his hands behind his back, watching the flames before him, a cold smile playing on his lips.
There truly were ghosts in this palace; each person harbored an evil spirit within their hearts.
And his evil spirit was forcibly drawn out tonight.
Seventh Brother, never show such shallow eyes again. Otherwise, even a ghost would know whom you adore.
...
This was a royal scandal. On the night of the Qianqiao Festival, his Second Brother played a thirteen-year-old girl to death. He also saw another face of his Seventh Brother, one filled with despair.
Afterward, Father exploded in anger and sent Second Brother to the frontier, shattering his dream of ascending the throne. At that time, even Third Brother, Second Brother's closest sibling, remained silent, obediently choosing to stay quiet.
So much for close brothers. It’s fortunate he didn’t have any, fortunate indeed.
He, Yunzhi, had an evil spirit enter his heart at the age of eight, on that sultry summer night.
Suddenly, his chest felt like it was about to burst. Could it be that the ghost wanted to escape? Standing amidst the mist, he pressed hard against his chest, trying to force the ghost back in.
But in the next moment, that evil spirit transformed into a thick, fishy stench, spreading all the way and finally gushing out at the corner of his mouth.
“Yunzhi!”
“Yunzhi!”
Who was pulling at his soul? Who made him so attached?
“Mm...” The blinding light forced him to squint.
“Yunzhi! Yunzhi! You've finally woken up!”
His eyes met a pair of slightly swollen tearful eyes.
“Qing... Qing...” His throat was parched and hurting. “Water...”
“Alright, alright.”
He drank a full bowl of clear water, finding it extraordinarily refreshing.
“It's daytime.” He looked around the bright inner chamber, his mind gradually clearing. “Qingqing, don't attend court until I get better.”
The beauty's eyes were bloodshot, which slightly marred her appearance but made him happy.
“Mm, I understand. Third Prince should make some moves these days. The drug was meant to hold me back, so I wouldn't expose them, right?”
Damn it, his heart began to itch uncontrollably, itching to the point where he wanted to devour her whole. But what could he do now? What could he do?
Powerless with desire, frustration overflowed in his heart.
“By the way, several of your concubines wanted to come see you.” The beauty wrung the handkerchief to wipe his cheeks. “But Granny Zhang wouldn’t allow it and locked them in the garden. Poor things. You...”
He mercilessly tightened his grip on her slender wrist, his eyes burning with raging flames.
“You... you...” His chest heaved rapidly. “Are you sympathizing with them?”
The beauty winced, knitting her brows in pain: “What's wrong?”
“Only sympathy?” He almost ground his teeth.
She didn't answer, just quietly looked at him, her eyes filled only with apology.
“Forget it.” He averted his gaze, speaking coldly. “Since I turned sixteen, I've taken in a concubine every year. Hmph, are you wondering why there are only three left?” A strange smile appeared at the corner of his lips. “Because I never interfere in the struggles between women. No matter who dies or gets hurt, I'm always pleased with the outcome.”
“Why?”
Finally, she spoke. He subtly shifted his gaze, staring fixedly at her: “Why? Because their masters don’t wish me well.”
The beauty’s pupils contracted slightly, her face showing surprise.
“The three who are still alive: one was sent by Mother Empress when I was seventeen, another was forced upon me by Third Brother when I was eighteen, and the other was bestowed by my father, the king. Tell me, should I care about them?”
He was satisfied to see the struggle in her eyes. Softening his voice, he gently called out: “Qingqing.”
She focused her gaze on him.
“The person I care about the most is you, Qingqing.”
She lowered her eyes, her gaze sinking heavily.
“Qingqing.” He longed for her response.
“Yunzhi.” Her voice was somewhat hoarse. “Do you remember our first meeting?”
His bright eyes dimmed suddenly. Smart as he was, how could he not understand the implication of her words?
Silence flowed between them on that winter morning.
After an unknown amount of time, a clear, lingering flute melody drifted from afar, like a ribbon fluttering in the wind, wrapping around and unwrapping, unwrapping and rewrapping.
An unintentional glance caused the blood in his chest to surge again.
“Qingqing! You promised me!” Though he gritted his teeth tightly, black blood still seeped uncontrollably. “Don't think of him! Don't...”
...
He was unwilling, falling into sweet fragrance once more before finishing his words.
Resentment coiled in his heart, and he closed his eyes in pain.
“Thank you very much just now. Hello, my name is Han Yuexia, and I’ll be six years old next month.”
A soft, childish voice reached his ears, and he abruptly opened his eyes, looking intently at the little girl smiling sweetly before him.
She blinked her clear eyes, sincerely looking at him, her gaze solely on him.
So this time, he entered the dream himself, returning ten years ago.
The ribbon on her round hair bun danced in the wind, playfully brushing against his cheek, tickling his soft heart.
“Shake hands, and we'll be friends!” She extended her right hand generously, her rosy lips curling mischievously.
He looked at this peculiar gesture, overwhelmed with mixed emotions.
“No.” He spoke firmly.
“Eh?” She pouted in disappointment.
“I don't want to be friends.” He raised his bright eyes, unblinking, staring at her.
A gentle breeze blew, filling the fragrant water pavilion. Another Qianqiao night.
He stepped forward, embracing the tiny figure: “Qingqing.”
I shouldn’t have let go back then; I shouldn’t have let her leave.
The moon hid, the wind fluttered, and his smile slowly deepened.
“You are destined to be my empress.”
He, Ling Yiran, styled Yunzhi, was the Ninth Prince of Qing Country.
At the age of twenty-one, he made a wish, somewhere between dreams and reality...
Dark clouds receded far into the distance, and the great roc spread its wings. Who understands the laughter of the flirtatious?
Half a lake of misty rain, a branch of crimson and green, let the wind and rain come as they may, let the sun shine as it will.
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