Chapter 19
The emperor was furious. Unusually, He Shi, who would typically try to reason with him, said nothing this time.
Consort Shu knelt on the ground, her gaze drifting to the edge of the screen, and her heart understood the situation.
When the emperor decided to punish palace servants, she never interfered or opposed it. Everyone was to remain silent and let the matter pass.
The atmosphere was unbearably still, but fortunately, the emperor did not unleash any further anger.
After the servant was dragged away, the emperor’s demeanor softened again.
He Yanqiu breathed a sigh of relief. In dealing with the emperor, he and Consort Shu shared an unspoken understanding.
This was no time to plead for a servant’s life.
The emperor returned to his seat and summoned another pair of servants to offer tea.
“That’s enough. You two may rise.”
He Yanqiu cast a reassuring glance at Qin Xiangyi and slowly released her hand.
Her hand was cool, with well-defined knuckles and a soft, delicate texture, very small.
He Yanqiu gently smoothed the robe he had just tugged at, his fingers lingering as if reluctant to let go.
Qin Xiangyi also rose slowly, disappearing deeper behind the screen. She pressed her hand lightly against her chest, leaving He Yanqiu only to see her back—a pale neck exposed above her collar and the alluring curve of her spine.
He Yanqiu withdrew his gaze and looked toward the emperor.
The emperor was now embracing Consort Shu, the two laughing and whispering sweet words.
Consort Shu was truly favored; none of the emperor’s earlier anger had touched her.
The emperor pointed at He Yanqiu and said, “He’s eagerly awaiting that fellow Wang Tingyang to arrive in the capital. They say they plan to accomplish something that benefits the people. I’m looking forward to seeing it.”
Emperor Jingli spoke lightly, showing his closeness to He Yanqiu.
Consort Shu glanced at the forbidden step hanging at He Yanqiu’s waist, then looked at him deeply before caressing the emperor’s chest.
“Lord He’s diligent. You’re still worried about him, aren’t you? He’s bound to earn you a reputation as a ruler who loves his people.”
The emperor laughed heartily. He Yanqiu was just like that—never contradicting him, yet truly helping to clear obstacles. He was easy to use. So when He Yanqiu wished to do something privately, as long as it did not harm the emperor’s interests, the emperor would allow it.
Consort Shu glanced at the screen trembling from the draft and He Yanqiu standing steadfast beside it. She coaxed the emperor, “Your Majesty, it’s chilly here. Let’s return to the palace to warm up. Leave Lord He here; let him return on his own.”
The emperor, ever simple-minded, agreed immediately. Consort Shu supported him as they headed back.
Halfway through, the emperor reconsidered leaving He Yanqiu alone and called back, “Lord He, do as you please. When you return, send my regards to your grandfather.”
Emperor Jingli knew well that clans like the He family had to remain in court. Such families, who could flatter the emperor and accomplish real deeds, were invaluable.
If the Zhu family were allowed to dominate alone, the court’s collapse would not be far off.
Though Emperor Jingli was indifferent to governance, the He family truly worked for the people. With such ministers by his side, he felt at least some of the centuries-old blame could be cleared.
Since he favored the He family, who could call him a foolish ruler?
The emperor left with Consort Shu, and He Yanqiu watched them disappear into the garden.
Two rows of palace servants held umbrellas over them, their procession trailing long.
Once the hall was empty, He Yanqiu turned to Qin Xiangyi standing in the corner.
“All clear now. Let me escort you back,” he said.
His expression softened, a faint smile playing on his lips, his voice clear—a young gentleman standing before her openly and innocently.
It was indeed so; there was nothing to hide. In his heart, the small gestures between her and himself were the emperor’s problem, not theirs.
Qin Xiangyi had nothing shameful about her, and walking beside him was no cause for secrecy.
He waited quietly for her to come beside him, while Qin Xiangyi, harboring ambiguous thoughts, knew she could never be as forthright as he. She held secrets she could not reveal.
When she finally stood by him, the shadow in his eyes dimmed. Until now, he was the one pretending innocence.
He curled the palm that had just held her hand.
“Aunt, I was rude earlier. I apologize,” he thought he should say.
The mist of rain clung to her hair, two strands that should have fallen loosely over her forehead now plastered flat.
As the faint light filtered through the lush green leaves, he saw a shimmering fuzz on her cheek.
Her face was pale, lips colorless, but when she bit down hard on her lip, it turned a rosy red.
It was an instinctive act; she knew what made her most beautiful and how to redden her lips at such a moment.
His apology tightened her heart.
Her solemn reply, “It’s alright,” felt like a cold splash against his chest.
They left the hall, and He Yanqiu produced an umbrella from somewhere, smoothly shielding her from the drizzling autumn rain.
Qin Xiangyi leaned closer to him, while He Yanqiu lifted her wooden box from the table.
“Let’s go.”
“I can carry it myself.”
His hand holding the umbrella was next to hers; he carried the box with the other. She bent to take it, but he gripped it tightly, still shielding her from the rain.
She couldn’t lift it, and his chest brushed against her ear.
His scent enveloped her, and her earlobe flushed red. She felt embarrassed for such a reaction.
She straightened, no longer making any unnecessary movements—not out of shyness but because she felt she should maintain her dignity.
Seeing her give up on the box, He Yanqiu smiled without looking at her. They walked side by side.
They did not take her usual route, but beside He Yanqiu, she asked no questions. She trusted him completely.
Their hems intertwined in the rain. Unbeknownst to her, when her earlobe brushed his chest, he deeply inhaled her scent and momentarily panicked, fearing if she lingered, she might hear his heart racing strangely.
Thankfully, everything remained as usual.
She would never discover the unspeakable feelings he harbored for his aunt.
He Yanqiu exhaled slowly, calming the trembling within his chest.
“Aunt, it seems it’s been raining since the day we met.”
Qin Xiangyi shook her head. “No, on the day we met, there was a fire.”
That long palace path, thick with the smell of smoke.
He Yanqiu suddenly thought of something and asked, “Aunt, would you like to see the burned ruins of Yongning Hall?”
That place had been sealed off, barren and forsaken.
Qin Xiangyi thought that after serving in the palace for a full year, she had never dared to look closely at the palace grounds, let alone visit a place like Yongning Hall.
Now with He Yanqiu leading, it felt safe—why not take the chance?
She nodded, “Alright.”
They walked together, passing the duty room where He Yanqiu fetched a cloak.
“Aunt, you’ve been soaked. I’m afraid you might catch a cold. Here, wear this.”
Qin Xiangyi stared at the blue-green cloak embroidered with cranes. Hesitant, she accepted it and draped it over her shoulders.
She drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled. His scent was now wrapped around her.
As they continued, she deliberately lagged half a step behind, lifting her gaze to look at him deeply.
Her eyes were no longer innocent. Surrounded by his scent, she knew purity was impossible.
But when He Yanqiu glanced back, she had resumed her usual composure and stepped beside him.
This was a part of the palace she had never visited, a path she had never taken. It was lined with endless red brick walls, narrow enough for two sedan chairs to pass.
Only the two of them walked this road. Occasionally, palace maids passed by, bowing their heads briefly in greeting before moving on. Both wore official robes; no one dared to cause trouble.
As they entered quieter stretches, they could almost hear each other's breathing, along with footsteps and the rustle of their robes.
The rain had stopped. He Yanqiu closed the umbrella, shaking off the droplets.
Autumn rain was like this—chilly and persistent—not soaking but chilling to the bone.
Yongning Hall was deserted, its blackened burnt frame standing stubbornly.
Though charred and scorched, Qin Xiangyi still sensed its grand magnificence—the craftsmanship of a previous dynasty.
He Yanqiu stepped up first and turned to offer his hand.
Qin Xiangyi was mesmerized by that shining hand extended toward her.
He said, “Aunt, let me support you.”
She lowered her gaze, then placed her lifted skirt aside and put her hand into his.
After all, it was not the first time he had held her hand.
The moment her hand touched his palm, He Yanqiu gripped it firmly.
He held her hand like a precious treasure, walking forward with no other movement, as if using all his strength just to cradle her hand as he walked.