Chapter 272: Old Matters (4)

The feeling of over twenty years of emptiness being filled in that moment was too beautiful.

Xiang Zhi was in a daze, even tasting immense warmth and happiness.

He sank back to the ground, gazing up at Le Wuya with a smile as the invisible golden shackles and jade locks fell away from him.

This man, even with all the glory and splendor in the world, would only show his beauty to one person.

Everyone else could only watch from afar.

And in the end, he was merely a spectator from afar, not one of the fated few.

At this point, Xiang Zhi had only one thing he couldn't let go of: "Teacher, when you look at him, do you ever think of me?"

What he truly wanted to ask was whether there had ever been a moment when he had loved the wrong person.

Whether that love had, at some point, landed on him.

Le Wuya's answer was unequivocal: "I've never mixed the two of you up."

He shamelessly told himself that the time he'd mixed them up at the gatehouse didn't count.

The lighting was bad that time.

Xiang Zhi said with meaning: "Really?"

Le Wuya said with confidence: "Yes."

A pair of beautiful dimples appeared at the corners of Xiang Zhi's mouth: "Teacher, you have a short memory. On that Little New Year's Eve when you were locked up, Sixth Brother came to see you. Remember?"

He knew he shouldn't smile right now, or he'd look too smug.

But he'd worn this mask of a smiling tiger's mischievous child for so long that it had long since fused with his flesh and blood—even if he wanted to take it off, he couldn't.

Le Wuya had been about to pull him up, but his expression shifted slightly at these words.

He crouched down and gave a gentle nod: "Yes. I remember."

Just as Xiang Zhi's smile was about to bloom, Le Wuya changed tack:

"However, there's something that's been puzzling me for a long time."

"That day, when you came the second time and brought Xiaoliu to me, I was very grateful."

"But where was he himself at that time? Can you tell me?"

Xiang Zhi: "..."

He froze in place.

In the end, a thousand thoughts and ten thousand words all dissolved into a great laugh: "I always thought I'd beaten you at least once, but it turns out I didn't win in the end either!"

Le Wuya advised: "Between brothers, why keep score?"

Xiang Zhi grinned: "You talk just like a sister-in-law."

Le Wuya: "..."

He felt this kid was a bit delirious today and had the urge to kick him again to knock some sense into him.

But soon, Le Wuya dismissed the thought.

Perhaps the "Xiang Zhi" he knew had never been the real one.

Just as the "Le Wuya" Xiang Zhi liked was actually the wicked, cunning, scheming one who was always at odds with him—"Xiang Zhi Jie's teacher."

Their meeting might only truly begin today.

...

Walking out of Wen Ren's residence, Xiang Zhi felt clear and bright at heart. The faint smile that always hung at the corner of his mouth now showed a hint of sincerity.

When he entered the palace one day, Consort Xi immediately noticed something off about him and asked what was wrong.

Xiang Zhi said solemnly: "The green mountains and flowing clouds have no shackles; worries arise from the heart."

Hearing this, Consort Xi was startled: "Suqiu! Suqiu!"

Suqiu had been at Consort Xi's side since she entered the palace. Upon hearing the call, she appeared immediately: "Niangniang, what's wrong?"

Consort Xi: "Quickly summon the imperial physician—he might be having a fit of madness!"

Xiang Zhi rolled his eyes in a frivolous little way.

Confirming that her son was back to normal, Consort Xi relaxed and changed her tune: "Never mind, never mind. Go cut him a slice of muskmelon."

Suqiu knew this mother-son pair always liked to play and joke around, so she smiled knowingly and tactfully withdrew.

After sending Suqiu away, Consort Xi kept digging: "How did you get into meditating on Zen? What exactly happened?"

"You're still asking me?" Xiang Zhi said, "Last time you let it slip that Xiang Xiaoliu was almost raised to death by the Imperial Consort, and then you made excuses and wouldn't tell me the truth, so I went to ask Second Brother."

The melon seeds fell out of Consort Xi's mouth: "Oh dear, I say, you—you—"

Xiang Zhi complained deliberately: "You and Lady Deng both saw this with your own eyes, so why did you keep it from me?"

Consort Xi lowered her head like someone who'd done something wrong, and her voice grew heavier: "This... such a frightening thing. How could I tell a little kid like you about this?"

Even now, recalling that scene still gave her nightmares.

The Emperor had an argument with Imperial Consort Zhuang. No one knew what was said, but with a casual shove, he threw little Six—the child she'd painstakingly given birth to—into the water.

Such a small child falling into the water—even the splash was pitifully small.

And Imperial Consort Zhuang sat upright at the edge of the boat, like a cold jade statue, unmoving as a mountain.

She didn't even stand up to look.

Xi Ying herself was a timid one. Seeing this scene, she couldn't even cry out—her legs gave way and she sat down hard on the ground.

Lady Deng was even more timid than a needle's eye, scared out of her wits, and went dumb right along with her.

If not for that child showing up in time...

Consort Xi's eyes stung a little, and she bit her lip without saying a word.

Seeing this, Xiang Zhi let out a soft sigh.

Lady Deng was timid, but she knew exactly who the real culprit was behind all this.

So she worked up every bit of courage she had and gave the Second Prince a vague rundown of what happened, telling him to honor and revere his father, treat him as his everything, and never, ever cross him.

His mother, though, was a little slow on the uptake.

She took everything at face value, and because she leaned on the emperor's favor to win him some goodwill, she quietly nursed a secret grudge against Imperial Consort Zhuang for years.

Xiang Zhi didn't want to play up Xiang Xiaoliu's misery, and he didn't like Imperial Consort Zhuang much either.

He just felt bad for his mom.

Her kid had been handed around like a present, given away without a care, then tossed aside like a piece of trash, dropped without a second thought.

He hated that.

Thinking about it, Xiang Zhi propped his chin on his hand and said, "Mom, the story I got from Second Brother doesn't quite match yours."

...

Imperial Consort Zhuang's birthday rolled around.

As usual, the emperor sent a flood of fancy gifts to her palace, and, hoping for a little something, dropped by Qingxi Palace for a short visit.

...Only to get chased off by her icy comment: "Every birthday should be spent fasting and reflecting quietly, not indulging and partying."

In the afternoon, birthday gifts from the consorts poured into Qingxi Palace one after another.

Gifts kept coming, but nobody actually showed up.

The reason was simple enough.

Of the old crew who'd stuck with Xiang Zheng since his crown prince days, only Zhuang Lantai was left.

And just about every consort figured the Imperial Consort had a few screws loose.

The emperor still had feelings for her—he'd even let her raise someone else's kid—but she stayed cold and distant all day, like the whole world owed her eight million in cash.

When life was good, why not enjoy it? Wasn't she just plain nuts?

Dan Qiong was with A Ming and a bunch of young maids, counting the gifts and writing them down, getting ready to stash everything in the private vault, when a maid at the gate came to say, "Sister Dan Qiong, someone from Jiahe Palace is here!"

Dan Qiong's eyes lingered on a pair of gold bracelets in front of her as she answered, "Let me jot this down and I'll be right there."

"No..." the maid looked uneasy, "It's the top consort of Jiahe Palace herself."

Dan Qiong raised an eyebrow. "Consort Xi?"

She quickly put down her brush, hiked up her skirts, and rushed out.

Sure enough, the stunning Consort Xi, braving the scorching sun, strolled in all smiles.

Consort Xi was past forty but still loved to look pretty.

Today, she'd put on a flashy bright crimson palace robe to wish her a happy birthday.

But her striking looks managed to pull off the loud color without breaking a sweat.

Everyone in the palace knew she was adorably shallow and never thought twice about it.

But today, on Imperial Consort Zhuang's birthday, she was dressed fancier than the Imperial Consort herself, who was chanting sutras in the main hall—pretty inappropriate.

Luckily, Imperial Consort Zhuang never stood on ceremony.

Because she didn't even see anyone, period.

Dan Qiong hurried over and curtsied. "Greetings, Consort Xi."

"Very well indeed." Consort Xi craned her neck. "Is the Imperial Consort around? I brought a gift!"

Dan Qiong: "?"

In past years, Consort Xi had done the same as the others—gifts sent, no show. Why the sudden change this year?

"My lady, my mistress is in the middle of her prayers and probably can't thank you in person. Don't take it personally."

"Then I'll just wait for her?"

Dan Qiong jumped a little, looking uneasy. "My lady, my mistress's prayers don't have a set time. And the sun's brutal—maybe you should head back for now."

Xi Ying didn't give up. "Then I'll just say a quick word to her from the courtyard. It won't bother her prayers, right?"

Dan Qiong: "..."

She really should've steeled herself and firmly shown Xi Ying out.

But her mistress had spent years in lonely isolation, with hardly a soul caring about her. And Consort Xi was the Sixth Prince's birth mother—what real beef did they have that they had to stay so cold and distant?

Seeing Dan Qiong hesitate, Xi Ying naturally took that as a yes.

So she raised her voice and called out happily:

"Imperial Consort, I picked out an incense burner for you!"

"It was super expensive! Made of gems from Persia!"

"Happy birthday, my lady!"

The Imperial Consort Zhuang, who Dan Qiong had said was "in the middle of prayers," stood behind the small window, one hand on the diamond-patterned lattice, quietly watching what was going on outside.

Outside, Dan Qiong was frantically trying to hold Xi Ying back.

Through the curling incense smoke, she stared at that splash of bright color in the sunlight and narrowed her eyes a little.

That year, that day, on Awan's birthday, she'd worn bright red, happily carrying the gift she'd gotten, coming to her window to call her name.

Xue Jie had greeted her warmly, saying the crown prince and crown princess had fought the night before and he wasn't feeling well today.

The crown prince had come to the palace to get a doctor for the crown princess, and the crown princess had asked Consort Zhuang to go back and rest.

Zhuang Lantai said "oh," felt a twinge of regret, hugged her gift, and got ready to obediently leave.

But when she happened to glance back, she saw a slim figure standing behind the lattice window, staring at her without blinking.

...Awan?

Zhuang Lantai looked closely, only to realize that the lonely, desolate figure in the window was none other than herself, dressed in Daoist robes.

Author's note: No prize quiz: why did the old emperor climb Mount Kongtong?