As they approached the city gate of the capital, the weeping willows along the roadside already wore a faint haze of green.
Zhou Fu reined in his horse and stopped.
“Would you like to rest?” his servant promptly asked.
They were east of the city, still some distance away from the gate.
Zhou Fu did not reply, his gaze fixed on a lively cluster of activity ahead by the roadside.
The place was clearly a market, yet unlike any ordinary market – the goods being hawked all seemed to be brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, and other scholarly implements.
As Zhou Fu and his servant walked over, a chorus of calls immediately greeted them.
“Sir, here – we have the newly carved edition from Maoyuan Mountain!”
“Sir, fine brushes and ink here, and we’ll throw in a brush holder as well.”
Zhou Fu ignored them and walked straight ahead, but he could not approach the gravesite.
A new fence had been erected, and guards were posted there.
Naturally, they weren’t government officers – just a few elderly servants and house attendants.
“Make way…”
The servant was about to shoo away those blocking the path when Zhou Fu raised his hand to stop him.
He did not step forward any further but instead looked past the people sitting or standing in front of the tomb.
“It’s been added,” he remarked.
“Yes, indeed! Look over there, sir – that’s Cheng Wenyu’s tomb, newly added just before the new year,” someone nearby chimed in enthusiastically upon hearing him. “Such vigorous clerical script!”
It hadn’t been there before he left the capital. Could this girl, now empress, still find the leisure to leave the palace so casually?
Zhou Fu curled his lip, turned, and walked away, leaving the eager bystander rather disgruntled at being cut short.
As they neared the city gate, the main road grew lively – a group of young men on horseback, along with their servants, swarmed about. Passersby could tell from their gestures and chatter that this was a joyful reunion of loved ones.
“…Aren’t you tired?”
“…You’ve grown even sturdier…”
A few of the young men playfully thumped each other, a rough but affectionate way of showing closeness.
“Hurry along now. Father and Mother have been worried for half a month, asking about your return every single day.”
Zhou Fu smiled and nodded.
The group mounted their horses and set the carriages moving, stirring up another wave of commotion on the road and drawing curious glances from passersby. Before anyone could point or comment, the young man at the head of the group quickly frowned and raised his hand in a silencing gesture.
“Everyone, behave with a bit more dignity,” he said. “Don’t make a scene or give people something to gawk at. We mustn’t lose face or compromise our standing.”
The other young men promptly straightened up in their saddles, adopting more restrained postures, while the servants lowered their heads and fell silent. The clamor settled almost at once, and they proceeded forward at a measured pace.
Zhou Fu looked faintly surprised.
“Brother, this isn’t like you,” he said with a smile.
In the past, whenever the Zhou family of Old Shan went out, they seemed almost eager to stir up attention across the capital – making a fuss even when there was none, caring little whether they were laughed at or criticized, so long as they were noticed.
The young man at the front turned his head and grinned.
“Times have changed,” he replied. “Father says our family no longer needs to rely on flamboyance to be remembered.”
With an empress now in the family, even if they retreated to the deepest mountain valleys, there would still be those who remembered them.
Stepping through the doorway, the reunion of father and son, mother and child, and brothers and sisters naturally brought its own joy. As the lively family banquet showed no sign of winding down, someone arrived outside to offer congratulations.
“Father, I’ve only returned to visit family. Wouldn’t it be better to avoid these social obligations if possible?” Zhou Fu said with a frown.
Master Zhou laughed heartily.
“It’s no outsider, no outsider at all,” he explained. “It’s a servant from your uncle-in-law’s family – the Chengs.”
Uncle-in-law? The Cheng family?
Zhou Fu was taken aback.
The term felt utterly unfamiliar.
Even as they spoke, the visitor was already entering – a young man of about seventeen or eighteen, dressed in fine clothing. He walked to the veranda and promptly kowtowed, his forehead thumping audibly against the floor.
“I pay my respects to the Sixth Young Master,” he said with a cheerful grin.
Jin Ge’er, Zhou Fu thought, smiling slightly.
“You’ve come back again,” he remarked. “Your master must trust you a great deal to send you.”
Jin Ge’er lifted his head and replied with a smile, “Indeed. I am now married and a father. The master says I’m finally fit to be of use.” He added, “Besides, even if I’m not much use on my own, there’s always you here in the capital to look after me.”
His words drew laughter from everyone present.
“Fit to be of use indeed – not like the days in the capital when you’d get lost and cry your eyes out,” Zhou Fu remarked.
Jin Ge’er grinned and kowtowed again.
“I still haven’t thanked you for sending people to search for me back then,” he said.
Thanks? Back then, this lad had glared at him like an enemy. Now, after five or six years, he suddenly remembered to express gratitude.
Truly “fit to be of use” – slick-tongued and shamelessly boastful, no less.
Zhou Fu shook his head with a faint smile.
Old Master Zhou accepted the gifts and then selected a few items from those Zhou Fu had brought back, handing them to Jin Ge’er to deliver to First Master Cheng.
“When did Father become so close with the Cheng family?” Zhou Fu whispered to his brother beside him.
Weren’t they practically wishing each other dead before? Now they’re so intimate that even a junior like me, returning home, requires an exchange of gifts.
“Father says they’ve always been on good terms – that there was never a time when they weren’t,” his brother replied in a low voice, smiling. “A family that produced an empress is no ordinary family.”
Because of her.
Back then, it was because of her that the two families were practically sworn enemies. Now, it’s because of her that they’re as close as kin.
“Truly, the world is ever-changing,” Zhou Fu murmured.
As the banquet drew to a close, the night grew deep. After washing up, Zhou Fu settled into his room and let out a long, comfortable sigh.
“Young Master, Young Master,” his servant hurried in, kneeling down. “I’ve found out.”
Zhou Fu hummed in acknowledgment, looking at him.
“Young Master Qin injured his leg some time ago,” the servant continued. “He’s been using a cane since, but in truth, there’s nothing seriously wrong. It seems he just… likes using it.”
He… likes it?
Zhou Fu frowned.
How could anyone actually enjoy such a thing?
Had he always liked it, even in the past? If so, why did he let my sister heal him? Wouldn’t it have been simpler to remain unhealed, to stay lame…
The thought flashed through his mind, and his body stiffened.
To stay lame, to remain just as he was before…
Zhou Fu’s hand, resting on the low table, slowly clenched into a fist.
“…Master Qin and his wife have already taken the entire family back to Sichuan. The thirteenth young master said he intends to travel and study on his own, so he went his separate way,” the attendant continued.
So that was why they had encountered him on the road.
Traveling to study, indeed.
It seemed he had learned quite a bit. Though he still carried a cane, he wasn’t the same as before.
That air of free-spirited ease was no longer just superficial – it now seemed to emanate from deep within his bones.
“Young Master, word has come that you may enter the palace tomorrow.”
A maid hurried in from outside to deliver the message.
Zhou Fu made a soft sound of acknowledgment, looked up, and smiled slightly.
“Very well,” he said, then urged his servant, “Go and properly arrange the things I brought.”
The servant complied.
“Oh, and another thing, Young Master,” he added, lowering his voice. “It seems there’s talk that the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress are… at odds.”
At odds?
Zhou Fu raised an eyebrow.
How dare he be upset with her?
Palace lanterns swayed in the night breeze as footsteps broke the quiet of the Empress’s quarters.
“His Majesty has arrived.”
The drawn-out announcement of a eunuch echoed through the hall.
At the sound, the palace maids inside the hall curtsied in unison. A figure, carrying with him the sharp chill of the early spring night, swept past them.
“Your Majesty.”
Su Xin stepped forward with her attendants. Seeing Fang Bocong still dressed in court robes, she signaled for others to assist him in changing.
“Leave us.” Fang Bocong said.
Su Xin stopped in her tracks, bowed her head in a silent salute, and withdrew without another word.
Eunuch Jing reached out and closed the main hall door, then glanced at the night-duty eunuchs and palace maids dispersing along the veranda.
“How long has this been going on?” he asked quietly.
Su Xin smiled faintly.
“A full day,” she replied in a low voice.
Eunuch Jing made a thoughtful sound.
“A whole day – that really is quite a while,” he remarked, half-closing his eyes. “The last time His Highness and Her Majesty were at odds was back at Qingyuan Station.”
That time, she had left without a word, gone alone in the rain to intercept and kill the fourteenth son of the Gao family, leaving Duke Jin’an – who could only wait helplessly for the outcome – furious.
But that quarrel had lasted less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea.
“This time is different,” he added softly, a hint of reproach in his tone. “To be honest, it’s always been Her Majesty who’s been in the wrong. Our Highness hasn’t made a single mistake. Last time, it was Her Majesty acting recklessly without notice; this time, she actually intercepted Doctor Li’s letter to His Majesty without permission.”
He looked up at Su Xin.
“Don’t you think that’s inappropriate? How could she do such a thing?”
Su Xin looked at her own hands and smiled cheerfully.
“Since Her Majesty did it, she must have had her reasons,” she said.
Tsk, tsk, tsk… Eunuch Jing stared at the palace matron before him.
Poor Your Majesty – in this Empress’s palace, where is even a trace of the Son of Heaven’s majesty left?
We never should have changed the ancestral rules and moved here to live in the Empress’s quarters.
On someone else’s turf, how could he possibly maintain the imposing presence of the Emperor’s own palace?
“Someone, come here!”
The more he thought about it, the more Eunuch Jing stewed. He turned and called a eunuch over.
“His Highness’s late-night refreshments – bring them quickly.”
“Bring a portion for Her Majesty too,” Su Xin promptly added.
Those were specially prepared for His Majesty! Eunuch Jing inwardly shouted, gripping his horsetail whisk. In the end, all that escaped his lips was a soft, resentful snort.
This is bullying!
Inside the bedchamber, Cheng Fang looked at Fang Bocong sitting across from her.
“Doctor Li only had partial knowledge, and the information he gathered was incomplete. His alarming words would only make you worry needlessly,” she said. “I didn’t want you to be anxious.”
“Liar!” Fang Bocong stared at her and spat out the two words. “Do you think I’d believe that?”
“You’d rather trust him than me?” Cheng Fang asked with a light laugh.
Fang Bocong looked at her, his expression wooden.
“Back then, were you prepared to die?” he said.
“To accomplish anything, one must be willing to risk everything – to face death with resolve and emerge renewed,” Cheng Fang replied, still smiling.
“Ah-Fang!” Fang Bocong raised his voice, cutting her off.
Cheng Fang looked at him and smiled again, reaching out to take hold of his sleeve.
Fang Bocong shook her hand off, pulling away.
“With you here, I fear nothing,” Cheng Fang said with a smile, reaching out again. This time, quicker, she caught hold of Fang Bocong’s sleeve.
“Honeyed words won’t work,” Fang Bocong said.
“You being here only means there’s someone to arrange my affairs after I’m gone.”
As he uttered the words “after I’m gone,” his voice involuntarily grew slightly hoarse.
She truly could have died – it wasn’t as she had claimed, that she would be safe and sound once he made her Empress. There had been a time limit all along. Once that passed, even making her Emperor wouldn’t have saved her.
This liar!
Just thinking that if he had been even a few days later, she might have been gone forever made it hard for him to breathe.
He had thrown himself into state affairs with unusual diligence, dismissed his ministers, suspended court discussions, and paced in the Hall of Diligent Governance for an entire day.
“Knowing you’ll handle things after I’m gone, I can depart without any worries,” Cheng Fang said with a light laugh, pulling his sleeve closer. “Everyone must die eventually. To pass away peacefully and without regrets – isn’t that the greatest blessing?”
“You’re talking nonsense again,” Fang Bocong said, pulling his sleeve back forcefully. “Why do you always think about death instead of life? That’s exactly what angers me – why do you never think of yourself, only of others?”
With that, he half-rose onto his knees, looking intently at Cheng Fang.
“Ah-Fang,” he said softly, “could you please be kinder to yourself?”
Under the soft glow of the palace lanterns, the young lady looked at him and nodded, then reached out and threw herself into his embrace.
“With you here, I can afford to be kinder to myself from now on,” she said.
“No more sweet talk,” Fang Bocong said, trying to push her away.
Cheng Fang held on tightly, leaning against him with a smile.
“From now on, I’ll only be good to myself,” she declared. “I am the most important. I am the most important person to Fang Bocong. I’ve already died twice – now, all I want is to live well, to live well together with Fang Bocong.”
Fang Bocong rested his hands on her shoulders, wanting to push her away, but in the end, he couldn’t bear to.
“You liar,” he murmured, “always deceiving me.”
Cheng Fang tilted her head up and smiled at him.
“That’s because in this world, you’re the only one willing to let me deceive you,” she said.
Her large, shimmering eyes were almost dizzying to look into.
“Fang Bocong,” she called out softly once more, reaching up to hook her fingers into the collar of his robe. “Let me help you change.”
Hearing the faint, intermittent sound of breathing coming from the inner chamber, Eunuch Jing, who had been pressing his ear to the main door, straightened up and sighed.
“Take them away, take them away,” he said, waving off the eunuchs who had arrived with the late-night refreshments.
“Should we bring them again later?” the lead eunuch asked.
Eunuch Jing curled his lip, glancing at the food boxes.
“No need,” he replied. “Who has time for this now?”
Watching the eunuchs file out, the Empress’s bedchamber settled into the quiet of the night.
Eunuch Jing ambled slowly toward the side hall, counting on his fingers as he went.
“Even though the quarrel lasted a full day, it still didn’t hold up once they met,” he muttered to himself. “Actually, it was even shorter this time – not even as long as it takes to drink a cup of tea. Each time seems to be over quicker than the last.”
…
In the dimly lit room, the heavy breathing gradually steadied, and the air was tinged with a faint, lingering warmth.
“Would you like some water?”
A deep, slightly hoarse male voice asked.
A soft, lazy hum came in response.
The bed curtain was pulled aside, and a slender figure slipped from the couch. He poured a cup of water from the clay stove nearby and quickly returned.
Half-supporting the person in his arms, he helped her drink half the cup, then tossed back the remainder himself. With a flick of his wrist, he dropped the empty cup beside the bed.
“Don’t fall asleep yet,” he said, gently shaking the one in his embrace. “We haven’t finished talking.”
Cheng Fang let out a light laugh, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face against his still-warm, bare chest.
“Then go on,” she murmured.
“Stop touching me,” Fang Bocong protested. “Go sleep on your own side.”
Cheng Fang giggled softly, her laughter bubbling like a spring.
“No,” she said, pulling him even closer. “I like sleeping while holding someone.”
She paused briefly before adding,
“There was no one to hold before. Now there is.”
These words made Fang Bocong’s hand, which had been resting on her shoulder, shift from pushing to holding. Then, as if catching himself, he spoke again.
“You’re changing the subject again!” he said, giving the person in his arms a little shake. “Tell me, will you ever do this again? Intercepting letters privately – if you weren’t feeling guilty, why would you do such a thing?”
“I won’t do it again.”
The person in front of him shook her head slightly, her hair and the tip of her small nose brushing against him, instantly stirring a fire within him.
But just then, the one in his arms rolled away, wrapping herself tightly in the blanket.
“Let’s sleep now. We’ve already delayed state affairs for a day today. If His Majesty fails to hold court early tomorrow because of me, I’ll be scolded again,” Cheng Fang said with a light laugh.
This liar!
Fang Bocong turned and pressed himself over her, pinning both her and the blanket beneath him.
“You did that on purpose!” he gritted his teeth and said, then bit down gently on the small earlobe before him, his voice growing muffled. “Making it sound like I’m useless… Let’s see who really can’t get up tomorrow.”
…
The interior of the bed curtain gradually grew brighter. Fang Bocong rested his hand behind his neck, gazing at the canopy before turning to look at the person beside him.
Cheng Fang was sleeping peacefully, the brocade quilt slipping down to reveal her delicate collarbone.
The weather was still chilly. Fang Bocong reached over to pull the quilt up for her, but his hand paused as it brushed against her neck.
Long-buried memories surged from the depths of his heart, stiffening his body and making him tremble ever so slightly.
“Ah-Fang,” he couldn’t help but call out softly.
Cheng Fang remained asleep.
Perhaps there was no need to say anything – it was all in the past.
Fang Bocong started to withdraw his hand.
But could some things be treated as if they never happened just by remaining unspoken? As if no one knew?
Heaven knew, earth knew, and he knew. How could that be considered “no one”?
“Ah-Fang,” he said, giving Cheng Fang a gentle shake and raising his voice slightly.
Cheng Fang slowly opened her eyes and made a soft sound of acknowledgment.
“Ah-Fang,” Fang Bocong leaned in closer and called again, “there’s something I want to tell you…”
Cheng Fang turned over.
“I know, I’m the one who won’t be able to get up,” she said drowsily.
Fang Bocong couldn’t help but smile, reaching out to stroke her shoulder.
“Not that,” he said, pausing briefly. “Ah-Fang, when you were unconscious, could you hear or sense things happening around you?”
Cheng Fang made a soft sound of acknowledgment, turning slightly to face him. Her eyes, now open, held a distant, hazy look.
“What?” she asked.
“Back then, I gave you water and medicine, took you into the garden to see the flowers, and even brought you along for morning exercises,” Fang Bocong said with a soft laugh, leaning closer. “Did you know any of it?”
Cheng Fang looked at him for a moment, seeming to think carefully, then shook her head against the pillow.
“I was unconscious – how could I have known?” she replied. Then, with a faint smile, she added, “But now that you’ve told me, I know.”
Fang Bocong smiled, looking at her.
“You’re lying to me, aren’t you?” he said. “You… you must have known.”
He straightened up and let out a soft sigh.
“You knew how I cared for you, and you also knew that I once thought about…”
Those hands placed around her neck – with just a little more force, they could have snuffed out that fragile, slender breath, and everything would have ceased to exist.
None of what they had now would have existed.
He had almost destroyed with his own hands everything he could have had.
This was him – ugly, terrifying, yet unavoidable.
A hand reached out and grasped his.
“Fang Bocong, I don’t really like or care much about what others think,” Cheng Fang said. “I only look at what people do.”
Fang Bocong looked at her. The young lady lying on the pillow was resting on her back, her dark hair spread beneath her, wearing a faint, tranquil smile.
“Isn’t that how you are too?” she said. “Have you ever wondered – if you and my fourth brother were both in danger, who would I save?”
Fang Bocong gazed at her, tightening his grip on her hand.
Who deceived whom, who betrayed whom – but still, he could not bear to let her go, and she did not hold his actions against him.
They were still together. As long as they were together, there was peace and happiness.
Being hurt didn’t matter. Hesitation didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.
The world was already so harsh and merciless – just this one unwillingness to let go was enough.
Listening to the footsteps fading away outside the bed curtain, the bedchamber returned to silence. Cheng Fang turned over to face the inner side and let out a soft sigh.
She had already encountered someone who thought about it and then did it. Now, she had met someone who thought about it but did not act. Perhaps this was heaven’s compensation and blessing to her.
She closed her eyes, a slight smile touching her lips as she nestled into the brocade quilt and drifted into peaceful sleep.
Lately, she had been sleeping more deeply than ever. Perhaps it was because she had never slept so soundly before.
…
The Empress Dowager accepted the medicine bowl from Fang Bocong and gestured for a palace maid to bring tea.
“Your Majesty has worked hard,” she said.
The Supreme Emperor on the couch also looked at Fang Bocong.
“You… decide… for yourself,” he spoke slowly, each word labored.
Fang Bocong shook his head.
“How could that be? I still need your guidance in many matters,” he replied.
A faint, difficult smile appeared on the Supreme Emperor’s face.
“Good,” he said.
Although he had woken up and could speak again, the Supreme Emperor’s vitality continued to fade day by day. After taking the medicine, he fell into a deep sleep.
The Empress Dowager and Fang Bocong withdrew from the room.
“Your Majesty,” the Empress Dowager said, “the imperial doctors suggest that preparations should be made.”
A trace of sorrow passed over Fang Bocong’s expression.
“Your Majesty, this is already very fortunate,” the Empress Dowager said with a gentle smile.
Fang Bocong nodded.
“There is another matter to prepare for as well,” the Empress Dowager added, as if suddenly remembering. “Now that the palace is stable and the court is at peace, and with spring here, it is time to bring new faces into the inner palace.”
Fang Bocong looked at the Empress Dowager, seeming somewhat surprised.
“If the Supreme Emperor were to…,” the Empress Dowager glanced toward the inner chamber, speaking with measured restraint, “the mourning period would last three years, and it would not be suitable to arrange for new consorts during that time. Your Majesty, you are no longer young. The palace should welcome more companions, and there should be more children as well.”
Fang Bocong smiled and shook his head.
“I have no intention of adding more people to the inner palace,” he said.
The Empress Dowager was taken aback.
“Your Majesty, how can that be?” she asked, frowning slightly as she recalled the rumors circulating in the palace. “Leave it to me to speak with the Empress. Your Majesty need not trouble yourself with such matters of the inner court.”
Fang Bocong smiled.
“No, matters of the inner palace are also family matters,” he said. “Moreover, I now hold this throne not for myself, but for Crown Prince Xuanwen.”
The Empress Dowager was once again taken aback.
Fang Bocong’s ascension to the throne had indeed not been driven by personal ambition – while others might doubt it, she believed it. Yet what did this have to do with the selection of consorts?
“I am here to safeguard the realm on behalf of Crown Prince Xuanwen, not to indulge in pleasure,” Fang Bocong continued. “My wife and I are enough – we want only peace and stability. I have no desire to bring outsiders into Crown Prince Xuanwen’s household.”
So that was it…
The Empress Dowager was at a loss for words when urgent news came from a eunuch outside the door.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty – Her Majesty is unwell!”
The cry sent both Fang Bocong and the Empress Dowager into a panic.
“Her Majesty has summoned a doctor,” the eunuch reported. “It was done discreetly. This morning, she experienced nausea, but Su Xin ordered it to be kept quiet.”
This woman!
She really knows how to lull him into complacency!
Fang Bocong hurried away.
“Quickly, go and see what’s wrong,” the Empress Dowager urged anxiously, sending people after him. “Last time was frightening enough – please don’t let it happen again.”
The eunuchs from the Empress Dowager’s palace promptly obeyed.
The Empress Dowager paced anxiously inside the hall, but before long, a eunuch returned.
“Congratulations, Your Highness! Congratulations!” the eunuch said, beaming as he bowed.
Congratulations?
The Empress Dowager froze for a moment.
“Ah, I understand!” Consort Dowager An, standing nearby, exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Her Majesty the Empress is with child!”
Nausea, summoning a doctor…
The Empress Dowager felt her heart pound as she stared at the eunuch.
“Is that the case?” she asked.
The eunuch smiled and bowed again.
“Yes, the doctor has just confirmed it – it is indeed a pregnancy,” he said.
The Empress Dowager’s heart settled, and she sank back into her seat.
“Heaven be thanked! Buddha be praised!” she murmured, clasping her hands in prayer.
“Your Highness, that’s the wrong one. You should be thanking the Taoist Patriarch,” Consort Dowager An reminded her.
The Empress Dowager shot her a glare.
“What are you still doing sitting here?” she said. “Go and offer your congratulations.”
Consort Dowager An rose with a cheerful smile.
“Take plenty of silver with you,” the Empress Dowager added calmly from behind. “Since you’re managing the inner palace affairs and have skimmed enough off the top, be generous for once.”
Consort Dowager An’s face instantly fell, and she turned back with a pained expression.
“Your Highness, that’s unjust! I haven’t done any such thing! I am poor!”
…
There were not many people in the inner palace. After the consort dowagers had offered their congratulations, they gradually dispersed, leaving only the husband and wife in the Empress’s bedchamber.
Fang Bocong seemed somewhat at a loss – unable to decide whether to sit or stand.
“Is the child all right?” he asked once more.
Last night had been wild, and now he was filled with deep regret.
“You’ve asked more than a dozen times already,” Cheng Fang replied. “Wouldn’t I know if something were wrong?”
Fang Bocong let out a soft snort.
“I don’t believe you,” he said, then quickly called for the imperial doctor again. “Make sure to ask clearly what precautions should be taken.”
“Your Majesty is being overly cautious,” Su Xin remarked, covering her mouth with a light, amused laugh.
Fang Bocong paid no attention and went straight out to question the doctor himself.
Cheng Fang sat inside the room, her expression somewhat distant and lost in thought. Her hand unconsciously rested on her abdomen.
To think… she was with child…
In the depths of the night, Fang Bocong woke with a start once more. This time, when he reached out beside him, he truly found the space empty – it wasn’t just a nightmare from earlier. He quickly sat up and saw Cheng Fang standing by the window.
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” he asked in rapid succession, stumbling as he got to his feet.
Cheng Fang turned to look at him and smiled.
“No,” she said.
Under the moonlight of a spring night, the young lady’s smile seemed somewhat fragile, almost ethereal.
“Lying again,” Fang Bocong said, taking her hand and frowning with a serious expression. “What is it really? You’ve been uneasy all day.”
Cheng Fang remained silent for a moment.
“Actually, I lied,” she said.
Fang Bocong was taken aback.
“In this world, I’m not someone who can do anything except compose poetry,” Cheng Fang continued, looking up at him. “I… never learned how to raise a child.”
Fang Bocong gazed at her, unable to hold back a hearty laugh. But as he laughed, a pang of sorrow welled up within him.
The skills she had learned were all about surviving against death, born from the sheer difficulty of staying alive. There had never been any hope for a future, let alone thoughts of bearing and raising children.
He reached out and drew her into his embrace.
“Ah-Fang, don’t worry,” he said. “I know how.”
Cheng Fang looked up at him.
“You do?” she asked.
Fang Bocong smiled.
“I love children very much. I watched Prince Huaihui, Crown Prince Xuanwen, and the princesses grow up from birth. I even took care of them myself. But… they were other people’s children, and they didn’t particularly enjoy being cared for by me. I could only watch from afar,” he explained. “So rest assured – now that we have our own child, I’ll teach him. I’ll teach you too.”
Cheng Fang looked at him, the worry fading from her brow as a soft smile touched her lips. She wrapped her arms around him.
“All right,” she said.
Translator’s Words:
That’s it! Thank you to everyone who supported this book. It’s been a very loooonnnng journey, well over two years from start to finish. Because the story is set in ancient China and involves quite a few concepts from Chinese classical philosophy (mostly Taoism), the translation has been especially challenging for me. My translation certainly has its flaws, but I hope you’ve all enjoyed it!
