Chapter 21

Although there is typically only one person serving tea at the Emperor’s side, the halls are always guarded at every entrance, and Dai Zheng is always on call.

The Emperor having everyone else leave, leaving only her behind, held a significance that was rather profound.

Why?

Sang Qingyun could not fathom what private matter the Emperor would need to ask her about in private. If there were something he wished to ask, he could have simply asked; there was no need to deliberately clear the room.

While much had happened at today’s grand banquet, none of it had anything to do with her. As for inquiring about Noble Lady Zhao, that was even more absurd. Noble Lady Zhao was a new favorite, and although she was introduced by Dowager Concubine Zhao, the Emperor had shown her no special treatment. Furthermore, they had lived in the same palace for a year and were not close; there was nothing to discuss.

Sang Qingyun pursed her lips and looked toward the Emperor. He was standing by the diamond-paned window before the peach tree, his back tall and slender, as cool and clear as jade.

The afternoon at the Qinzheng Hall was rarely this quiet and elegant.

Sunlight leaked through the decorative windows in scattered shards, and the smoke from the dragon-saliva incense drifted and settled slowly. She stepped forward lightly, stopping with restraint at a distance of one zhang behind the Emperor, and bowed respectfully.

"This servant is dull-witted and does not know what important matter the Emperor has. I ask that the Emperor speak plainly."

Xie Yanheng did not turn around, nor did he speak. Instead, he stared fixedly out the window, a sliver of deeply buried gloom in his eyes.

He had not wanted to ask. He did not feel that there was any need to take such a trivial matter to heart.

Yet, whenever he saw Prince Yi, he could not help but feel a surge of irritation. The more he restrained himself, the heavier that feeling became, forcing him to bring it out into the open and clarify it.

That day, when Prince Yi had asked him for Sang Qingyun, he had made it clear he was unwilling. He had thought Prince Yi would understand, but he had not expected the Prince to refuse to give up, even going so far as to seek out Sang Qingyun alone to speak with her.

Sang Qingyun was originally unaware of this, let alone the fact that Prince Yi had intentions toward her. Now that the Prince was so persistent, it was hard to say whether Sang Qingyun might be moved.

Xie Yanheng knew she had always wanted to leave the palace. Twenty-five was the age when palace maids—and female officials alike—could be released. Her frequent pretense of ignorance and her efforts to protect herself were surely for this very reason.

But now, with an opportunity to leave the palace laid out before her, how would she choose? To go with Prince Yi, or to stay?

After a long while, Xie Yanheng finally spoke: "What did you and Prince Yi discuss?"

Sang Qingyun’s long lashes trembled slightly. She deliberated, deciding it would be unwise to reveal everything she and the Prince had said. Prince Yi and the Emperor were brothers; if they fell out over a mere palace maid, it would be her fault alone. Moreover, the Prince had not forced her; he had only inquired politely. If she exaggerated, she feared it would damage the Prince’s reputation.

Thinking of this, Sang Qingyun said softly, "His Highness Prince Yi was merely making small talk, asking after the Emperor’s recent health."

Xie Yanheng turned around and gave a mocking laugh. "Prince Yi is known for his dissolute and frivolous ways; to think he would have such concern for me."

"If he were truly concerned, wouldn't it be better to submit a petition and come into the palace to see me? Why bother seeking you out at the Dragon Boat Festival banquet?"

Sang Qingyun’s tone remained steady. "The Prince was in a rush to leave the palace that day; I imagine he did not dare to disturb the Emperor."

Xie Yanheng looked at her and said, word for word, "Sang Qingyun."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she dared not meet his burning gaze.

He said, "Do not lie to me."

***

The Emperor had clearly made up his mind to get to the bottom of the matter. If Sang Qingyun continued to hide the truth, she would only harm herself and Prince Yi, making the situation worse.

Thus, she had no choice but to tell the truth, adding a few clarifying words: "His Highness Prince Yi is indeed concerned for the Emperor. But besides that... he did ask me about some personal matters."

Xie Yanheng remained silent, signaling for her to continue. Sang Qingyun then said, "His Highness Prince Yi took a liking to the tea I brew and asked if I would be willing to go to his estate."

Upon hearing this, Xie Yanheng’s gaze grew colder. "Was he interested in the tea, or in the person serving at my side?"

Sang Qingyun dared not speak.

Seeing her fall silent again, Xie Yanheng looked at her searchingly. "Though Prince Yi is a rake, he is exceptionally indulgent toward beauties. If you truly wish to leave, I will, in recognition of your loyal service, assign you to him as a concubine. That way, you need not toil in my service every day."

Sang Qingyun immediately refused. "I thank the Emperor for his kindness, but I have already declined His Highness Prince Yi. I beg the Emperor not to bestow me upon him."

She had prepared the most convincing argument: "My origins are humble, and it is only through the Emperor’s favor that I have been fortunate enough to serve at your side. Everything I have today is due to the Emperor’s trust. I wish to continue serving the Emperor, and I have no other intentions."

She had already refused?

Xie Yanheng felt quite surprised. He knew she had always hoped to leave the palace, likely feeling that it was restrictive and full of complex, exhausting affairs. He had not expected that with the opportunity right before her, she would decline.

Was it truly because—she cherished his kindness and could not bear to leave him?

Xie Yanheng was slightly taken aback. The corners of his lips curled into a faint, subtle arc that even he had not noticed.

He raised a hand to signal for her to rise, his tone softening. "Though Prince Yi lacks real power, he is a man of leisure and wealth. Why are you unwilling?"

"The palace is restrictive; I know you have always hoped to leave."

Sang Qingyun was silent for a moment. She did not intend to hide her feelings in this regard. She did not wish to accept Prince Yi’s kindness, but in her eyes, there was no essential difference between the Emperor and the Prince. To be a woman for the Prince or a woman for the Emperor was to be a caged bird without freedom, with no path forward but intrigue and struggle.

She was just an ordinary person, perhaps even a tragic one with no one to rely on. For someone like her, even if she caught the eye of a noble for a moment due to good fortune, how long could it last? Whether it was the Prince or the Emperor, it was merely a temporary interest; they only paid extra attention because she was not easily obtained.

She had seen too many fleeting favors in the palace. Having been there for so many years, even during the late Emperor's reign, she had long since tasted the coldness of human nature. How could she yearn for so-called royal glory? Status, favor, gold, and jewelry—none of these were as real to her as washing clothes and cooking in the courtyard with Old Man Tan.

She had lost her parents when she was very young. Old Man Tan had been her only family since she was fourteen; no one was more important than him. Over the years, she had dreamed of her parents so many times—dreaming of them holding her, reading stories, taking her to temple fairs, guessing riddles, and buying her the prettiest new clothes they could afford. But every time she woke, her face was wet with tears; those days were gone forever.

If she could not even serve Old Man Tan until his twilight years and fulfill her duty of filial piety, then no matter how much wealth she gained in the future, she would only die with regrets. Status and glory were but passing clouds; the only thing she cared about was affection—the warmest and purest truth in the world. Everything else was an illusion.

Sang Qingyun’s voice was very soft, yet firm, so that Xie Yanheng knew she spoke from the heart. "I do not wish to enter Prince Yi’s estate. I do not want to engage in intrigue, and I do not want to spend my life without freedom."

"Survival in the palace is not easy; one must be cautious at every step. I know my own humble status, and since I entered the palace years ago, I have known what it is to never sleep in peace. I have no grand ambitions. I only want to eat well, sleep well, and be free from schemes and constraints. That would be enough."

After hearing this, the corners of Xie Yanheng’s mouth tightened into a straight line.

It was understandable that she would think this way. It was he who had been arrogant, assuming that her refusal of Prince Yi was, at least in part, because of him—the sovereign of the world.

But what did it matter if he was the Emperor? He possessed the entire world, yet he could not obtain the heart of one small woman.

Sang Qingyun’s words were not just meant for Prince Yi; they were meant for him as well. Otherwise, with her caution, she would never have said so much in front of him.

Xie Yanheng gave a self-deprecating laugh. Since realizing a few days ago that his concern for Sang Qingyun was becoming uncontrollable, he had intentionally kept her away from his side, hoping to return to the way things were before. But the more he tried to control it, the more he felt it slipping away, achieving the opposite of his intent.

After today’s conversation, Xie Yanheng saw himself clearly, and he saw Sang Qingyun clearly. He admitted that he was interested in her and did not want her in anyone else’s hands. But he would never allow himself to force a woman who had no one to lean on, nor would he allow himself to grovel before any woman.

This farce should end here, and both he and she would carry on as if nothing had happened.

Xie Yanheng withdrew his gaze and said calmly, "I understand. You may withdraw."

"Tell Dai Zheng to come in."

Sang Qingyun breathed a long sigh of relief. She bowed and retreated, calling for Dai Zheng at the palace gate.

Xie Yanheng tapped his desk, his voice so flat it lacked any discernible emotion: "Starting from today, double Sang Qingyun’s monthly allowance. Consider it a reward from me."

***

That night, after Noble Lady Zhao had settled into the Yufu Palace, the candles burned until late before they were extinguished.

It was her first day in the palace, and she had been full of joy, believing the Emperor would surely come to her quarters. She had not expected to wait until deep into the night without receiving any word of a royal summons.

When she sent someone to inquire, she was told that the Emperor was sleeping alone tonight.

Noble Lady Zhao sat on her bed in despair, weeping. The exquisite makeup she had applied early on was no longer as flawless as it had been, showing patchy traces—a truly wretched sight.

Her personal maid, Huan'er, who had followed her into the palace, comforted her, "My Lady, do not be anxious. It is your first day; everything in the palace is still being settled. It is precisely because of your past rapport with the Emperor from your time at his side that he wants you to rest well. Once everything is arranged, he will surely summon you; otherwise, it would be too exhausting for you, would it not?"

"You were granted the rank of Noble Lady the moment you entered—is that not because the Emperor values you and the Dowager Concubine? Since you have already been given a rank and admitted to the inner palace, there is no reason he would not summon you. That is impossible."

Noble Lady Zhao looked up, sobbing, with a glimmer of uncertain hope in her eyes. "Really? Does the Emperor have me in his heart?"

"Then tell me, when will the Emperor summon me to serve?"

How could Huan'er know the Emperor's mind? She could only whisper, "It will be within these few days. The night is deep, and you must pay your respects to the Empress tomorrow and meet the other consorts. You should set your mind at ease and try to sleep."

At the same time, many others in the inner palace, apart from Noble Lady Zhao, were also sleepless, each harboring their own hidden thoughts.

Xie Yanheng was the same.

The night was as dark as ink. The vast Taiji Hall was lit by only a single candle, appearing exceptionally empty and quiet.

He sat alone, half-leaning against his bed, holding a silk handkerchief loosely in his hand. The handkerchief was very plain, embroidered with only a small, delicate character: "Yun." It flowed like water under the moonlight.