A wu naturally agreed to meet the eldest prince.
In truth, after agreeing, she felt a little uneasy.
She had already followed Emperor Jingxi for eight years, and she had to admit she was more delicate than before.
She had gained much experience, learned to manage the inner palace, learned Emperor Jingxi’s ways of ruling his subordinates… and as the Crown Prince had noticed, she had even begun secretly vying for her son to secure the position of crown prince.
To put it plainly, it was just a fight for the family estate.
But the person she was competing with over the estate was the Crown Prince.
She was no longer that A wu whom the Crown Prince once adored.
Now everything had changed, so what was there left to say between them?
Back then, she had to tread carefully, fearing the emperor’s suspicion, worrying he’d think something was going on between her and the Crown Prince.
Now, she still had to be careful—so that the old man wouldn’t think she, the stepmother, was mistreating her stepson.
One can’t help but lament, being a stepmother really is tough!
Yet what she didn’t expect was that her meeting with the Crown Prince would be set at Nanqiongzi.
The Crown Prince, now honored as Prince Wei Xiao, was about to travel far, heading to his newly conferred fiefdom, so A wu was there to see him off.
Emperor Jingxi accompanied her, but he stayed at Liangying Platform, letting her go ahead alone.
Her palanquin rolled over the wild, overgrown grass of Nanqiongzi and stopped at a spot.
As A wu lifted her skirt and stepped down from the palanquin, she felt a little dazed, as if she’d seen this scene before.
Back then, she had nearly died at Emperor Jingxi’s hands; after narrowly surviving, he took her to see the peony flower of Nanqiongzi, but on the way, they had unexpectedly encountered the former empress.
A wu still remembered the Empress’s carriage, the procession, and the guards all in matching Jinyi Guard robes, grand and imposing, each holding a silver-capped black lacquered staff, truly awe-inspiring.
At that time, she had never seen such a scene.
She was already by the side of the most powerful man under heaven, yet she was still dazzled by the empress’s majesty, peeking curiously, astonished and awed.
Today, she had sat securely as the empress for years.
Her own outings were lavish and grand, and she enjoyed it all with composure.
At this moment, the guards parted into two lines, palace maids attending on either side, red gauze and glass fans shielding her path ahead.
A wu trod upon the soft wild grass, looking off into the distance.
She saw autumn reeds, soft as snow, and far off, she saw Prince Wei Xiao’s officers and guards, the large “Wei” character embroidered in brilliant yellow on the banners waving in the wind.
A wu’s gaze trembled as she glanced to the side, finding everything exceedingly familiar—so much so that her heart quivered.
She saw traces of trenches nearby, though time had nearly covered them with weeds, it was still possible to see this place had once been used as a station, with tents and canopies erected.
She stared in a daze for a while.
At that moment, Futai shot a look at the palace maids and eunuchs, and everyone stopped and bowed their heads, no one going further.
In recent years, Futai’s health hadn’t been the best; he no longer attended Emperor Jingxi as closely, but he still went to Langhua Hall from time to time and played with the Little Prince.
This time, as A wu came to Nanqiongzi to meet the Crown Prince, Futai volunteered to accompany her.
—Which was just as well.
With Emperor Jingxi’s most trusted man present, he had nothing to worry about.
With Futai arranging everything, A wu had no concerns.
She lifted her skirt and walked toward the old trench.
As she entered, Futai had already ordered the servants to quickly raise a great hanging curtain, and in a moment, they had set up a tent on this open patch, with all the guards and maids retreating.
Behind the curtain, amidst the wild grass, stood a young man in a purple robe, gentle in expression, his gaze lowered, elegant as ever.
At the first sight of him, A wu’s heart stirred softly.
This Crown Prince felt familiar—his features similar to Emperor Jingxi, only his bearing was different.
A wu even vaguely felt that perhaps Emperor Jingxi in his youth had looked just like this, with this kind of grace.
Looking at the Crown Prince now, a tide of complicated feelings welled up in her.
When she had been helpless and alone, a reckless but devoted youth had sheltered her from the storm, caring for her with all his heart.
Even when she spoke harsh words to drive him away, he had still done everything he could for her.
Now, his retreat was mingled with many considerations.
She dared not assume it was all for her, but among the countless reasons, there was always a thread or two because of her, and she knew it well.
Emperor Jingxi’s evaluation of this son was: “most sincere, most filial, most passionate.”
A wu, though, felt his heart was too soft.
He couldn’t bring himself to fight his father, so he yielded; he couldn’t bear to fight his own brother, so he yielded; and he couldn’t compete with the woman he once loved, so again, he yielded.
The Crown Prince stood tall among the wild grass, hands clasped behind his back, smiling at A wu.
In fact, from the moment A wu got down from the palanquin, his eyes had followed her every move.
A wu now was noble and radiant, beautiful as the most resplendent flower of Nanqiongzi.
He smiled and said, “I still remember, the last time we spoke was when I barged into Langhua Hall. After that, A wu, you left me forever.”
A wu understood what he meant—after that, she had become the emperor’s favored consort, his mother, and when they met again, she could no longer be the A wu he’d known.
A wu’s nose tingled, and she said softly, “Your Highness, it’s been many years in the blink of an eye.”
That one address, “Your Highness,” made the Crown Prince’s eyes turn misty.
He lowered his eyes, saying quietly, “What you said to me that night, I still remember. I think…A wu was right. I really was useless.”
A wu replied, “Your Highness, I only said it to drive you away then.”
“No, you were right,” the Crown Prince said, “all these years, I’ve often thought back on it. I’ve made many mistakes, I was foolish, and I often regret it. I can’t help wondering, if I had done things differently back then, would it all have turned out another way? I’ve always felt I was too timid, always making mistake after mistake.”
He spoke slowly, his voice bitter, “Sometimes, it’s not that I don’t know I’m wrong, but in my bones, I’m a bit timid, always hesitant and afraid to fight for what I want. Thinking about it, Father was right—I’m not decisive enough, never able to burn my bridges.”
A wu said, “It’s not your fault…we just weren’t meant to be.”
The Crown Prince looked at her tenderly and said, “All these years, Father has loved you dearly. Watching from the side, I’ve been happy for you. You should know, I’ve always admired Father, revered him like a god.”
Hearing this, A wu understood.
In the days they had spent together, the Crown Prince would sometimes mention Emperor Jingxi, always with respect.
She couldn’t imagine how he’d felt when he learned she was with Emperor Jingxi, but at that time, she hadn’t been able to spare any sympathy for him.
The Crown Prince’s eyes grew dim and melancholy.
“A wu, I struggled for a long time back then. In front of Father, I had no strength to resist, no way to defy him.”
Facing A wu, now the esteemed Empress, there were things he couldn’t say aloud, but he longed for her so deeply that he found himself imagining the details of how she and his father were together.
He even admitted to himself that he had greedily and endlessly sought any trace of her with his father, and later tried to find consolation in other women—he’d even let a wet nurse bear him a child.
He’d even harbored some truly rebellious thoughts.
Yet beyond those rebellious thoughts, he’d once given in to despair, thinking if the court impeached him, good—let Father just depose him!
When Lu Yunjian rebelled in the Eastern Sea, he’d considered throwing himself into death, thinking that would fulfill both A wu and his father.
But his father said, “Do you really think I’m that cruel and heartless?”
At that moment, he deeply felt his father’s helplessness—a tiger does not eat its cubs.
How could he bear it?
Later, as time passed, he calmed down and began to see things more clearly.
Especially after A wu lost her memory, he saw how Father doted on her, and he knew his father truly loved her.
When he learned of all that A wu had gone through, Father’s heart ached all the more, and he began to reflect: if it were him, could he have done better than his father?
Could he have suppressed his pain and anger to gently care for her?
The Crown Prince thought perhaps he could not.
So he began to feel that, actually, Father and A wu were the ones truly meant to be together.
And indeed, he saw them grow more and more well-matched.
Though Father was already past forty, he was still youthful and heroic.
When they stood together, others hardly believed they were father and son, most thought they were brothers, maybe just five or six years apart at most.
Watching his younger siblings grow up, he felt more and more at peace.
They were a family—truly a family.
When he chose to step aside, he felt relieved, for his temperament was unsuited to the throne; in the face of fierce conflict, he instinctively avoided confrontation.
A wu, too, was recalling many things from the past.
If it were possible for them to sit down with a cup of tea and slowly talk about old times, that would be so lovely.
But they simply never had the chance.
A debt unpaid.
A gentle breeze stirred.
The Crown Prince asked, “Back then, when you tried to run away and heard Father’s words, were you frightened?”
A wu nodded, “Mm.”
The Crown Prince smiled faintly, looking at her gently he said, “I understand—you always had to fight for yourself.”
Under such a tolerant gaze, A wu blushed, feeling a little ashamed.
She said guiltily, “I never thought we’d come to this. At first, I just wanted a clean break, for us to part and go our own ways.”
The Crown Prince lifted his gaze, looking toward Liangying Platform in the distance.
On the lofty platform stood a man in a golden crown and purple robe, tall and upright, magnificent in bearing, gazing down upon A wu and himself from above.
Though the distance was far, the Crown Prince could still sense that familiar imperial presence.
He smiled wryly to himself.
With a man like that, how could he ever truly let go?
He would rather keep his little empress hidden in his arms forever.