Weilan recalled everything she had seen and felt increasingly frightened. Her eyes stung and tears threatened to fall again.
Futai said, “Weilan, I want you to keep this matter buried deep inside, waiting until the day you can speak it to one person.”
Weilan looked at Futai with confusion, not fully understanding.
Futai smiled kindly, “Naturally, you will tell the person who should hear it. You think on it slowly.”
Weilan’s expression froze for a moment, then she suddenly understood.
Futai smiled but said nothing.
Someday, Weilan’s words would become a thorn, stabbing at the softest part of that person’s heart.
This was psychological warfare.
Thinking this, Futai gazed toward the distant, heavy palace halls.
He would return to the Directorate of Ceremonial, reclaim his post as chief steward, and simultaneously hold the position of Governor of the Eastern Depot, regaining the authority he had lost.
Having served Emperor Jingxi since age thirteen, Futai was utterly loyal. The Emperor trusted him deeply—they could be said to entrust their lives to one another.
Yet, the moment A wu sobbed on the bed, Futai’s heart had already conceived a thought.
This child cried so sorrowfully. Why couldn’t he give her what she wanted?
So, he wove a web over ten or even twenty years, aiming at Emperor Jingxi’s own son, the Imperial Son.
Without bloodshed, he would make him withdraw from the succession.
***
Emperor Jingxi lifted his robe and slowly walked toward Langhua Hall.
As he entered, palace ladies quietly approached, knees slightly bent, offering respectful greetings.
Emperor Jingxi’s thin lips moved. “How is she?”
A palace lady answered softly, “The Imperial Physician just came. There’s no major problem, but she needs to rest.”
She handed over the Imperial Medical Case Record the physician had left.
Emperor Jingxi casually flipped through it—nothing new.
It had been two whole days, and A wu had yet to awaken. The Imperial Physician couldn’t explain why. He only said her body was fine; perhaps her mind was escaping reality, unwilling to wake.
Emperor Jingxi approached the bed. A palace lady lifted the embroidered canopy and brought a small stool, then silently withdrew.
He sat on the stool, lowering his head to gaze at A wu on the bed.
Her complexion in sleep was slightly pale. On her slender neck, faint blue veins could be seen.
She was so fragile, as if made of snow, seeming to require careful protection. Yet he had once pressed his strong finger bones here, seeking her life.
Recalling those days, Emperor Jingxi could not let it go.
After she nearly died, she knelt before him, tearfully begging, with no complaints or regrets, offering her love and admiration.
And he had believed her.
Perhaps because he had been in power too long, it felt too natural to assume he could claim everything for himself.
At that moment, A wu’s hand twitched in her sleep.
Emperor Jingxi’s gaze instantly focused on her hand. He held his breath, staring fixedly.
He saw her fingers tremble lightly, then unconsciously stretch out, as if grasping for something.
He reached out and gently held her small hand, rubbing it softly in his palm.
A wu’s thin lips moved, murmuring in her sleep. Her delicate brows furrowed slightly.
She was clearly having a nightmare.
Emperor Jingxi leaned closer, pressing to her lips, listening to her voice.
In her sleep, she exuded a faint scent of milk, so soft that even her mumbling sounded sweet.
Suppressing his own pounding heart, he whispered, “A wu, what did you dream? Come, tell me.”
He coaxed her as if she were a child, hoping to catch a glimpse of her thoughts.
A wu frowned slightly but muttered a word.
Emperor Jingxi caught the word “boat.”
When he tried to hear more, she became still and sank fully into sleep.
He stroked the delicate, boneless hands in his palm, noting the four little dimples on the back.
He recalled her words that she was a blessed one and remembered how proud she had been when she said this.
Emperor Jingxi held those hands in a daze. “A wu, wake up. I will give you blessings, is that alright?”
But she showed no sign of waking.
Why would she not awaken? Was she afraid to face him?
Emperor Jingxi kissed her soft cheeks repeatedly. “A wu, please wake. I don’t blame you. I’m not angry, and I won’t question you.”
He whispered into her ear, “And that Ye Han, I won’t kill him either. As long as you wake, I will agree to anything. Alright?”
He slowly bowed his head and buried his face in A wu’s chest, inhaling deeply, savoring her gentle, sweet scent.
Half-closing his eyes, he whispered, “I apologize. That talk of sacrificial burial was my fault—my great, terrible fault.”
Now, he wished he could tear open his own heart and show it to her.
He gave a bitter smile. “A wu, do you remember? I once said I would treat you with the heart of a parent.”
But when he later asked her about these words, A wu had said she could never be compared to Princess Dening.
How could she be mentioned in the same breath? Princess Dening was born a noble, royal bloodline—unchangeable. She could be arrogant and err; even if wrong, her father stood behind her and protected her. No matter what, she remained a princess with an Emperor.
A wu, however, was different. If she erred, she was banished to the cold palace, sentenced to death, losing everything.
Emperor Jingxi slowly lowered his eyelids. “In your heart, do you always fear that one day the Emperor’s anger will claim your life…? You have always been uneasy. It’s all my fault. I was wrong.”
“But A wu, do you remember? After you entered the palace, the first time I favored you, you thought the rituals were cumbersome. But in my heart, from that day, you were my wife, and I intended to be with you for life, never to leave.”
At that time, their status was unofficial. There was the Imperial Son inside and ministers outside. He truly could not give her a proper position.
“But to me, words are not spoken lightly. I said I would treat you like a parent’s heart. No matter your faults, I would always remember that.”
Moreover, she was not at fault—it was he who was wrong.
As the father of all his people, he failed to protect an innocent, weak woman. He let her be cast aside and fall into the hands of villains, forced to exchange her body for peace.
He once thought of this with disdain. Now, he felt only pity and guilt.
He looked at A wu for a long time, then climbed onto the bed. After loosening his clothes, he lay beside her, cradling her fragile body and gently rocking her.
Heaven nourishes all things. Thunder, rain, and dew are blessings.
He buried his face in her hair, whispering, “A wu, don’t be afraid of anything. I will always be with you.”
He would handle everything—Lu Yunjian, Ye Han—and find her father and brothers.
He would lift her to the position of Empress, becoming his lawful wife.
The man’s warm whispers were full of love, yet A wu did not wake.
In sleep, she found no peace. Occasionally, she murmured and struggled softly, even trembling.
Emperor Jingxi held her tighter, wishing he could enter her dreams to soothe her.
***
A wu woke early one morning.
The palace ladies on watch noticed her eyelashes fluttering and quickly called for the Imperial Physician.
By the time the Imperial Physician arrived, A wu had awakened.
But the newly awakened A wu seemed different.
The palace ladies and the Imperial Physician were frightened and immediately reported to Emperor Jingxi.
At that moment, Emperor Jingxi was handling state affairs in Fengtian Hall.
Hearing the news, without further delay, he abandoned several senior ministers and hurried away.
The ministers standing there exchanged glances.
They knew Emperor Jingxi cherished the Imperial Noble Consort dearly and had heard that the Consort was ill.
Though rumors of the specific circumstances circulated in private, it was not their place to speculate.
Still, the Emperor’s reckless haste upon hearing the Consort had awakened shocked them deeply.
After regaining composure, they thought, well, at least this lady had borne the Emperor imperial sons and daughters—everyone had someone dear to their heart.
When Emperor Jingxi arrived at Langhua Hall, he paid no mind to the subtle expressions on the palace ladies’ faces and rushed over to see A wu, her black hair falling messily on the soft satin pillow.
His heart pounded wildly.
He grasped her wrist tightly. “You’re awake. You finally woke up?”
He deliberately subdued his emotions, his voice gentle and calm.
A wu lazily lifted her face, her eyes hazy and confused as she looked at him.
Like an innocent fledgling, she stared at him in wonder.
The unfamiliarity in her eyes caused his heart to sink slightly, but he silently suppressed his feelings, held his breath, and forced a tender smile.
He said to A wu, “You’ve been unconscious for several days. How do you feel now?”
Still weak, A wu tilted her head to examine him and then furrowed her delicate brows.
A bad feeling rose in Emperor Jingxi’s heart, but he still used the softest voice, carefully asking, “A wu? What’s wrong?”
A wu moved her lips slightly, uttering a faint voice, “Who are you?”
Emperor Jingxi’s breath caught.
A wu looked around blankly and hung her head in disappointment. “Where are my father and mother? Where is my brother?”
Emperor Jingxi said, “A wu, you don’t recognize me?”
He stepped forward, intending to hold her hand.
But A wu dodged away.
She looked at him in confusion. “Who are you? I want Brother Ye Han.”
Emperor Jingxi’s expression slowly stiffened.