As she spoke, A wu suddenly thought of Dening.
She asked in confusion, “Your Majesty, what arrangements did you make for Dening?”
Dening was married off to the Ming Guogong Manor’s Second Son and accompanied her consort to guard the northern outskirts of the Capital.
Because of her lively nature and love for riding and archery, she now trains in martial arts with her husband, and has made remarkable progress.
Thus, Emperor Jingxi entrusted a squad of elite soldiers to Princess Dening, letting her personally train and command them, and directly promoted Dening’s husband to the position of Commander of the Three Major Battalions in the Capital.
Dening’s rewards were already unprecedented, shocking the entire court.
Now, her favor had doubled, and even Dening’s two children received generous grants.
Yet only A wu knew that Emperor Jingxi had always deliberately kept his distance from Dening.
It was only after much effort on her part, slowly bringing father and daughter together, that their relationship was restored.
So, A wu could never quite understand Emperor Jingxi’s actions.
At the mention of this, Emperor Jingxi fell silent.
A wu looked up at him and saw a particularly complicated expression in his eyes.
She watched him, puzzled.
Emperor Jingxi lifted his hand, covered A wu’s eyes, then lowered his head and sighed softly by her ear: “When you ask me about this, I don’t want you to see my eyes.”
Before meeting A wu, he was a solitary man—a performer on the grand stage of the world, playing the wise and brilliant emperor before his subjects, and a dutiful son and father in the eyes of his family.
As a royal father and daughter, there was a distinction between the public and private spheres.
Each year, there were only a handful of meetings; how much affection could there really be?
More than anything, it was a matter of duty—a ruler’s responsibility, a father’s obligation.
At Dening’s coming-of-age banquet, when his daughter gazed at him with admiration, he could only give her a smile in return, as a sign of his love.
He could provide her with a generous dowry, could select a good husband for her, but in the face of his daughter’s longing affection, he simply could not respond.
His own heart was a barren desert, unable to be like an ordinary father.
It was only after meeting A wu that a soft spot appeared in his heart, and selfish desires followed.
Once he began to plan for A wu and the children she bore, his gaze once again fell upon Dening, and he encouraged A wu and Dening to grow close.
He wanted to place his daughter Dening by A wu’s side—so that, if one day he were gone, Dening would stand with A wu and her children, and be a support for them.
That day, in the carriage, the two young ladies were playfully competing at leaf cards, racking their brains to calculate the scores.
Meanwhile, he held a scripture in his hand, and accurately calculated every move in the chess game ahead—including the future’s inevitable generous rewards, calculated distance, and closeness.
But how could he explain to A wu, with her gentle and clear eyes, this nearly cold and calculated plan towards his own daughter?
Facing a beloved so much younger than himself, he seemed to hold everything under his steady control, yet even so, he felt inferior at times.
So he lowered his gaze, pressed a light kiss to her earlobe, and said, almost pleadingly, “A wu, don’t ask anymore, all right?”
***
Night had fallen.
Emperor Jingxi held A wu in his arms.
“A wu, what I said to you today, it all comes from my heart. I only hope you can understand me. Whether it’s Dening or Mo Yao, in my heart, of course they are not as close as you, or as close as your two children. That’s why I treat them as an emperor would. Yet they are still my flesh and blood, still call me Father Emperor. I must do my duty to them.”
A wu quietly leaned against his firm chest, breathing in his scent.
She understood his intentions.
As for Dening, she could let it go.
She and Dening were close, often inviting her into the palace to play.
Dening, her consort, and even Dening’s two children would all be showered with favor in the future.
As for the Imperial Son, however, no matter how she looked at it, she still felt a little sorry for him.
Obediently, she said, “In these matters, I’ll listen to Your Majesty.”
Emperor Jingxi said, “I have only two sons and two daughters under my knee. Even if he cannot inherit the country, he should still be treated well. So this time, I promised him that the title of Prince would be inherited for three generations, with a gradual reduction in rank each time. In addition, I gave him a vermilion edict: if any of his descendants commit a crime, they can be exempted from the death penalty. This is my way, as a father, to make amends for him.”
In Great Hui, titles were not granted except for military merit; nobility was hard to come by.
Even with imperial favor, it was impossible to grant excessive exceptions.
That was why the Duke of England grieved so much over the loss of his generation’s ducal title.
Even if the Crown Princess were to ascend to the throne in the future, it would be difficult to win the ducal title back for her natal family.
Moreover, noble titles were divided into hereditary and non-hereditary.
Non-hereditary titles ended with the recipient; descendants did not inherit.
Hereditary titles could be passed on, but were also subject to gradations and further restrictions.
Perpetual inheritance—where titles passed on forever, shielding descendants endlessly—was something Great Hui had not allowed for a hundred and twenty years.
To prevent the proliferation of noble houses, strict laws were enforced.
For example, a title only came with a stipend, never with land, to prevent nobles from raising armies and rebelling, or the dynasty being burdened by too many idle nobles.
As for perpetual inheritance, it would never be granted again.
Emperor Jingxi could not break this precedent for his son, lest future emperors follow suit and create hidden dangers.
But he also could not bear for his little grandson to inherit only a lesser rank.
That was why he set the precedent of three generations, with a reduction each time.
Simply put, starting from the eldest Imperial Son, Mo Yao, there would be three generations of Prince, three generations of Duke, three generations of Marquis—passed on like this.
Of course, no one could predict what might happen in a hundred years, or how the world would change.
But for now, Emperor Jingxi had made the most careful, stable arrangements for this son.
Naturally, A wu had no objection—grant whatever titles, as many as you wish!
After all, the Crown Princess was already in the Crown Prince’s Mansion, and she and the Imperial Son bore no deep hatred.
If anything, there was still some lingering affection.
Treating them well was only right.
So, A wu replied sweetly, “Any title is fine! Give out more!”
Emperor Jingxi looked at her like this, and pressed his thin lips to her eyelids and said, “You’re quite generous.”
A wu, feeling pleased, lifted her face with a laugh.
“I am the official mother, after all. Isn’t it right to be generous and kind? Shouldn’t you be happy?”
Emperor Jingxi felt his heart soften at her words and said, “You are more and more like an Empress.”
A wu snorted with a smile, “When did I ever not look like an Empress!”
As she spoke, she was already twisting her body upward.
Emperor Jingxi laughed and asked, “What are you doing?”
A wu braced her hand on his chest, lifted herself up, and pouted her lips and said, “I want another kiss.”
Emperor Jingxi turned his head slightly, lowered his eyes, and leaned down toward her.
A wu wrapped both arms around the back of his head, tilted her own, and captured his lips.
The man who had sat on the throne for years had a narrow, high-bridged nose, beneath which were two thin lips.
When he was silent, those lips seemed to press together, sharp enough to take one’s breath away.
But to A wu, they were soft and could be savored to her heart’s content.
She gently parted his lips and caught his tongue, their tips entwining.
Emperor Jingxi’s teeth, just as described in ancient books, were white as gourd seeds, neat and pleasing to the eye—handsome indeed.
He liked cleanliness, and his breath always carried the faint fragrance of tea—was it the special tooth powder prepared by the Imperial Physician?
A wu closed her eyes, enjoying the taste of their lips and teeth joining.
She thought, ‘a person’s environment can change their temperament. Wealth and power were not just about luxury, but also about habits of cleanliness, carefully prepared meals, the Imperial Physician’s attentive care, and daily martial arts practice.’
Nourished by such privilege, even at forty, his skin was still tight and smooth, elastic to the touch.
In daylight, he was reserved and steady, with a radiant smile—he looked ten years younger than the fishermen of the Eastern Sea who labored day and night.
From this perspective, her earlier fantasies were probably unrealistic; she could never fall for a weather-beaten fisherman.
As for herself, managing the household after giving birth, unable to receive the meticulous care of the Imperial Physician or medical officer, her body would inevitably weaken, leaving lingering ailments…
She would never look as she did now, almost without a trace of childbirth.
She kissed him idly, like a puppy with a treasured toy, unwilling to swallow the bone at once and simply gnawing at it.
Emperor Jingxi could clearly feel her affection and longing for him, and, being able to drive her wild with desire at his age, he certainly enjoyed it.
The empire was secure, the heir’s matter settled, the court harmonious—he felt he could devote more time to his little Empress.
As a man more than ten years older than his wife, he believed it was his duty to let his woman enjoy honor and wealth, to be intoxicated in bed, and to be fascinated by his body.
No matter what, he could not let his wife suffer even the slightest grievance for marrying him.
But just then, A wu grew a little tired.
She let go of his arm and tried to lie down.
She was always like this—all talk, but after a few moments, she was exhausted and wanted to give up.
Emperor Jingxi, of course, would not allow it.
He gripped her neck with long fingers, as if catching a kitten, and then took the initiative, biting A wu’s tongue, not allowing her to escape, swirling and sucking.
The sound of their passionate kisses echoed in the sleeping chambers.
Their breaths mingled, the temperature slowly rose, and ambiguity filled the air.
A wu was soon breathless, letting out a whimper of protest, but he did not let her go, forcing her to lift her neck and accept his domination.
Emperor Jingxi lifted his gaze, watching the woman in his arms carefully.
Her fine brows were slightly knitted, her little face flushed, her eyes misty with unshed tears—utterly enraptured.
At twenty-five, the little Empress was gorgeous and blooming, impossible to look away from.
In these years, he had grown more controlling.
The Twelve Imperial Guards and Dragon Guard were all kept away from Langhua Hall.
He forbade A wu from going to Fengtian Hall as well.
A wu thought he was being wary, afraid she would interfere in court affairs from the harem, but that wasn’t the case.
He had learned from his mistakes and would never repeat them.
The woman he kept in the harem and treasured in his hands would never be allowed to be coveted by anyone else.
She had to be his, only his; no one else was worthy of even a stray thought!
After a bout of indulgent passion, A wu collapsed weakly in his arms, her cheeks flushed, her sheer robes loose, a scene of bewitching allure.
The man, however, was far from satisfied—he had only just begun.
He took her soft hand, placed it there, and had her help him.
This time, A wu was sensible.
Though tired, she crawled over and, propping herself up, helped him as best she could.
He was already past forty, but his skills in the bedchamber were formidable.
A wu, not wanting to be brought to tears every time, had learned some tricks to extricate herself.
Emperor Jingxi half-closed his eyes, enjoying the service of his little Empress.
Then, he spoke carelessly, “Truth be told, things have come to this point because you, A wu, are so outstanding—you gave me such an excellent second Imperial Son.”
His voice was husky and deep, and when it reached A wu’s ears, it made her feel drunk, her toes curling unconsciously.
Just from the sound alone, it was obvious what he had just experienced—that hoarse longing of a man, both satisfied and not, alluring and tempting.
A wu felt like biting him again.
She looked up, hesitated, then lay back down—no courage to provoke him further, lest he scold her for being lazy.
Emperor Jingxi let out a satisfied breath.
He lifted his strong fingers, gently tracing A wu’s slightly curved back.
“I really do like Mo Xi. He’s young, but steady in the face of danger, decisive, calm and composed. During the recent assassination, his performance was commendable. As a father, I am pleased. It’s all thanks to you, A wu, for bearing such an heir for me.”
A wu lay on his thigh, slacking off, biting her lip.
She thought, ‘he doesn’t realize that when he’s speaking as an emperor, he subconsciously uses the royal “I.” ‘
Like now, what he was really saying was, “A wu, you, a harem consort, gave me a good heir—I should reward you.”
But just then, Emperor Jingxi’s big hand gave her a light slap.
Caught off guard, A wu felt a slight sting.
She looked up, eyes wide, and protested, “What are you doing!”
Emperor Jingxi replied coolly, “What were you just thinking? Were you speaking ill of me in your heart?”
A wu: “……”
How did she end up with a man like this!
In her next life, she was definitely choosing a different one!
She got up angrily and pounded his thigh with her fist a few times.
Then she said, “I quit!”
Emperor Jingxi accepted her blows without a change of expression, but then, suddenly, he dropped a bombshell with a calm voice.
“Mo Yao wants to see you. He asked to speak to you alone, and I’ve agreed.”
A wu looked at him in disbelief, “Ah? What?”
Emperor Jingxi, eyes still closed, said indifferently, “It’s up to you. See him if you want, don’t if you don’t care.”