Meng Guqing had never hosted the young emperor for a meal and, unlike other concubines, had not bothered to find out his favorite dishes. Fortunately, the Empress Dowager had assigned her an experienced attendant who knew the emperor’s preferences well and guided her small kitchen accordingly. Thus, the table was filled with exquisite dishes that suited his taste.
When Zhao Donglin sat down, he glanced at the table, then at the empress, elegant as a lotus, her simple attire making her look all the more gently beautiful and pleasing to the eye. Thinking that she was, after all, his cousin, a woman who had married far from home alone, he decided that even if he could not offer her affection, he could at least treat her with courtesy. Gesturing toward the chair beside him, he said, “Empress, have a seat. Leave the serving to the attendants.”
Meng Guqing had always regarded the young emperor as a direct superior, one holding the power of life and death, and had no desire to die of carelessness. Since it was not a matter of principle, she followed his suggestion and sat down openly.
Ancient etiquette dictated: “Do not speak while eating, nor while in bed.” They weren’t close enough to share private talk anyway. The meal passed quietly. Taking the chance, the attendant had the servants heat water for washing.
Meng Guqing watched the emperor remove his outer robe under his attendant’s care, wearing only a bright yellow inner garment as he went behind the screen to wash. She grew uneasy when she noticed the attendant’s pleased expression. The Empress Dowager’s aide was helpful for learning palace routines but also served as eyes and ears. Meng Guqing had no intention of truly being husband and wife with the emperor, she needed to find an excuse to send that woman away soon.
It was still early in the night, just past the hour of the dog. Meng Guqing pretended to read a book by the window couch. Several young maids lowered the shutters, drew the curtains, and sprinkled fragrant resin into the golden incense burner.
Feng Tianbao entered with a few young eunuchs carrying a pile of memorials. “His Majesty ordered these brought from the Hall,” he said, “He wishes to review them tonight. Where would Your Majesty like them placed?”
Meng Guqing glanced at the standing clock, it was nearly nine. “How late will His Majesty be working?”
“The emperor is diligent. Since taking the reins of state, he has not let a day pass without reading until midnight.”
She knew his routine, rising before seven for court sessions, working alone in the Hall until after midnight. His schedule rivaled that of a high school senior in her past life. Most impressive of all, he had kept this up for seven or eight years, ever since the regent had moved him to the Eastern Palace. Even now, without anyone supervising, he remained utterly self-disciplined. Thinking of his face, just shedding its boyish roundness and showing the fine outlines of youth, Meng Guqing couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.
Zhao Donglin soon returned, his hair still damp. Seeing the memorials neatly arranged on the low table with brushes and ink ready, he raised a brow. Feng Tianbao stepped forward. “The empress ordered them placed here,” he said. “It’s not too cold yet, and the study’s floor heating hasn’t been lit. Here is warmer, and tea and light are easier to manage.”
Zhao Donglin’s brows lifted slightly, his handsome eyes scanning the table. “Did the empress see my memorials?” he asked.
Those were all impeachment memorials his uncles had submitted, censuring southern officials who’d once sided with the regent. After the regent’s death, they were the most eager to pressure him to follow the so-called ‘last will.’ A ‘last will’ from a mere prince! He’d been emperor for nearly eight years, yet they still dared to dictate to him.
His expression darkened, a flicker of hostility rising behind his refined brows. The atmosphere grew tense, and the servants fell silent.
When Meng Guqing entered, only Feng Tianbao remained inside. The young emperor sat cross-legged on the couch, his side profile calm and sharply handsome in the candlelight, like a pine tree in morning mist. Water still dripped from his hair, he had left it untended.
Setting down the teacup, she made a small sound to draw his attention. When he looked up, she smiled. “This is mulberry-chrysanthemum honey tea, good for clearing the eyes and soothing the throat. Your Majesty reads by candlelight so often, have a cup to moisten your throat.”
After placing the cup, she looked at Feng Tianbao and called softly, “Feng Gonggong.” He seemed to recall his role, and stepped forward with two white towels. But instead of approaching the emperor, he bowed and offered them to her.
Zhao Donglin said lightly, “Empress, dry my hair.”
Meng Guqing had no choice. She wrapped the towel around the dripping ends, gently absorbing the excess water, then slowly worked her way upward. She didn’t like long nails or colored fingertips; at this moment, she wore no jewelry at all. Her movements were calm and light, making the touch soothing rather than cautious or fearful.
Zhao Donglin hadn’t been cared for like this since childhood. After ascending the throne, he found himself less pampered than as a prince, people now avoided him. When the regent’s power was at its peak, he had been little more than an ornament, and everyone feared being implicated.
This feeling of being quietly, wholeheartedly tended to was strangely nostalgic. Yet the woman showing him this gentle care was someone sent by the regent himself. Even in death, that man still managed to unsettle him. His irritation flared, and even the memorials before him felt hateful.
Hearing the slap of the booklet hitting the table, Meng Guqing paused. The emperor turned his head toward her, and for a moment her clear, beautiful face filled his sight. His anger faltered. Unwilling to stew in silence, he muttered, “Empress, look at how detestable these people are. I promoted Han Quan and approved his defensive stand, yet they still find fault! They just want to reclaim all military power. They look down on me for favoring civil officials and sneer at my family for founding the dynasty through arms. What exactly do they want?”
Because the previous emperor had died young, the Grand Empress Dowager had long ruled from behind the curtain; after her passing, the current Empress Dowager had continued to involve herself in politics. Thus, there was no strict rule barring the inner court from political talk.
Still, Meng Guqing never forgot her role. She knew how wary and resentful Zhao Donglin was toward her. Being suddenly questioned, she first wondered what his intent was. Though his tone was angry, his eyes were not. She began to suspect he was testing her.
Besides, she wasn’t truly one of this world, she had no innate loyalty to the Donghu people or enmity toward the Southern people. She remembered from history that Han Quan, once a surrendered general, had served Wu loyally and contributed to the eventual unification. So she chose her words carefully: “Your Majesty chooses the right men and blesses the realm. General Han is loyal and steadfast. As the saying goes, ‘Do not doubt the man you use, and do not use the man you doubt.’ I believe he is merely waiting for the best time to strike, to annihilate the Yan forces in one sweep and bring glory to our dynasty. The rumors outside are but the faint light before dawn, soon, Great Wu will shine at its zenith. There is no need for Your Majesty to fret over these petty quarrels.”
What began as flattery ended as heartfelt encouragement, in truth, it was simply stating the historical record.
Even if his question had been a deliberate test, her response took him by surprise. He had thought she would, like the Empress Dowager, always side with her own kin. But her answer was sincere and fair. When will the hearts of others in court be as free of prejudice as hers?
Zhao Donglin pressed his lips together, his bluster fading. Seeing the empress still smiling softly at him, he turned his head aside in mock annoyance. “Empress, why so lazy with your words? My hair isn’t dry yet.”
Meng Guqing silently resumed wiping, thinking how childish this man is. His features might be strong and commanding, but his temperament was still that of a boy. Watching him close his eyes in ease, she suddenly thought of something and tried cautiously, “Still, I’ve often heard Her Majesty the Empress Dowager say ‘A father-in-law must be neither deaf nor blind.’ I think it’s the same for the court: officials must argue and challenge each other so the ruler can discern their true character. As long as Your Majesty holds firm control over rewards and punishments, what problem cannot be solved?”
“What are you trying to say?”
They were now close, his fine, handsome features right before her eyes. Perhaps her earlier words had softened him; his gaze, black and bright, had lost its former wariness. His red lips were vividly clear.
He had just started to warm up to her, should she bring up Noble Consort Xu? Meng Guqing hesitated. But she was tired of being caught between them.
Recalling the Empress Dowager’s words from yesterday that those born into wealth owed duty to the family that raised them, she decided to speak.
From Noble Consort Xu’s perspective, she thought, what fault was there? She had married an emperor, and by ancestral law, she was never meant to be the only one. Her family, sending her to the man she loved, naturally hoped she’d use her position to secure their standing, it was human nature. The emperor’s long resentment was, in truth, childish.
So Meng Guqing gently conveyed this idea, ending with: “Her Majesty the Empress Dowager wishes for harmony in the harem. Since Noble Consort Xu is with child, it would be best not to let her worry.”
He mulled it over for a long time was that all she wanted to tell him? Zhao Donglin felt something off. Somehow, hearing the empress speak of Wan’er felt awkward, and her tone… He sensed something wasn’t quite right, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. Still, since the topic wasn’t exactly sensitive between them, he relaxed a little. Thinking the empress was being rather meddlesome, he said lightly, “I know. I’m not angry with the Noble Consort. I’ve just been busy these past few days. Once I have some free time, I’ll go see her. You’ve had a long day yourself, haven’t you, Empress? I’m going to rest now.”
Meng Guqing’s heart tensed at his words. She watched the young emperor put away the memorials he’d reviewed and stride toward the bedchamber. Hastily following him, she saw him take off his damp inner robe, his brows knitting tightly. Zhao Donglin sat inside, patting the spot beside him as he waited for the empress to lie down. When the curtains fell, his handsome young face was veiled in shadow, their breaths mingling in the quiet. She could even feel the heat in his breath.
“Empress…”
Luckily, his tone was clear, not the kind that hinted at any improper intent. Still, just in case, she said, “Your Majesty, don’t forget what the Empress Dowager asked, about Noble Consort Xu—”
Before she could finish, she heard him sigh, turn over toward the inside, and mutter irritably, “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m really tired.”
He clearly found her nagging annoying. Meng Guqing relaxed at last, thinking to herself, I’m sorry. You don’t like it, but when you come again, I’ll still have to be the annoying one.
