The emperor stood by the window of his private study, his piercing phoenix eyes fixed on the delicate blossoms of the lotus pond below. In his hand, he idly turned a jade hairpin, its surface cool against his fingertips. He had gifted this pin to Yu Chen early on when the consort had first caught his attention—a token of his growing interest. He had retrieved it days earlier, during one of his unannounced visits to Yu Chen's chambers. The consort, so preoccupied with hiding his treasures, had failed to notice the emperor subtly lifting the pin from its hiding place. It amused him that Yu Chen hadn't realized it was gone.
"Such a cautious little fox," the emperor murmured to himself, a faint smile playing on his lips. "And yet, so careless."
A soft rustle of robes broke the silence as the head eunuch, Wang Xun, stepped into the room. Despite his age, his movements were precise, his presence quiet but commanding. The elderly man's gait was steady despite his age, his sharp eyes missing nothing. He carried with him an air of familiarity and authority that only someone of his unique position could possess. To others, Wang Xun was the respected head eunuch, but to the emperor, he was far more—a surrogate parent and a constant in his life since birth.
"Your Majesty," Wang Xun began, bowing deeply. "You seem... unusually at ease this morning."
The emperor's lips curved into a faint smile, though his gaze remained fixed on the window. "Does it trouble you to see Zhen in a good mood, Wang Xun?"
"Not at all, Your Majesty," Wang Xun replied smoothly, though there was a knowing lilt to his tone. "It is simply rare to see you tolerate such antics."
The emperor chuckled softly, finally turning to face the eunuch. "You mean Chen'er."
"Indeed," the eunuch replied, his tone light but curious. "And I see you have reclaimed a certain item."
The emperor chuckled softly, holding the hairpin up to the light. "Zhen thought it best to keep a reminder of Chen'er's ambitions close. It is fascinating, isn't it? How he hides treasures as if Zhen's eyes do not reach every corner of this palace."
Wang Xun inclined his head. "If I may speak freely?"
"You always do," the emperor said, his tone amused. "What is on your mind?"
Wang Xun stepped closer, his hands clasped in front of him. "This old servant cannot help but wonder why His Majesty indulges such behaviour. Consort Yu's actions are hardly subtle. Does Your Majesty not find his plotting tedious?"
The emperor's smile deepened as he placed the jade hairpin on the desk. "Tiresome? No. Zhen finds it... entertaining."
"Entertaining?" Wang Xun's brow arched slightly. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but most would call it audacious. Few would dare to even think of escaping your grasp."
The emperor leaned back against the desk, his expression thoughtful. "And yet, Chen'er does. He hides valuables with the care of a squirrel hoarding nuts for winter, all while glancing over his shoulder like a thief in his own home. It's endearing."
Wang Xun's expression remained neutral, though his eyes betrayed a hint of disbelief. "Endearing, Your Majesty? This is not a word I would have expected you to use."
"What would you have me do, Wang Xun? Punish him? Lock him away?"
"It would be the prudent choice," Wang Xun replied, his expression calm. "Most would not tolerate such audacity."
The emperor leaned back against the desk, his gaze contemplative. "Most are not Zhen. And most are not Chen'er." Wang Xun studied the emperor carefully before speaking again. "Does Your Majesty not fear that indulging him will embolden him further?"
The emperor's smile faded slightly, replaced by a more contemplative look. "Chen'er's boldness is not a flaw. It is what makes him intriguing. Besides..." His tone turned cool, almost dangerous. "Do you truly think he can escape Zhen's reach?"
Wang Xun bowed his head. "This old servant would never question Your Majesty's grasp."
"Good," the emperor said, his smile returning. "Then let Chen'er play his little games. Zhen is curious to see how far he thinks he can run."
"Anyway, what has brought you in to disturb me?" he asked now fiddling with the jade hairpin again.
"Your Majesty," Wang Xun said, bowing deeply. "Her Majesty, the Empress Dowager, requests an audience."
The emperor's fingers stilled on the jade hairpin, his expression remaining unreadable. After a moment, he placed the pin on the windowsill and turned toward Wang Xun. "Did she say why?"
"No, Your Majesty," Wang Xun replied, his tone calm. "But she was... insistent."
The emperor let out a quiet hum, his gaze flicking briefly back to the hairpin. "Zhen has other matters to attend to."
"Your Majesty," Wang Xun ventured, stepping forward slightly, "it may be wise to hear her out. Ignoring her summons could be perceived poorly."
The emperor's phoenix eyes narrowed slightly. "Does Zhen strike you as someone who fears perception?"
"Of course not," Wang Xun said smoothly. "But even a phoenix must occasionally tend to the old nest. She is still the Empress Dowager, after all."
The emperor's gaze lingered on Wang Xun for a moment before he gave a faint nod. "Very well. Prepare to go to see the Empress Dowager."
Wang Xun bowed deeply. "At once, Your Majesty."
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The grand, intricately carved doors to the Empress Dowager's chambers swung open with a measured grace, the soft creak of the hinges echoing in the vast, opulent hall. Eunuchs and maids dropped to their knees in synchronized reverence as the emperor strode in, his presence commanding silence. The faint rustle of his robes was the only sound as he approached the centre of the room. The Empress Dowager, seated on a high-backed chair adorned with phoenix motifs, rose just enough to acknowledge her son's arrival, the barest nod of protocol before sinking gracefully back into her seat. Her face was a mask of cold composure, her posture unyielding. Yet her sharp eyes flickered briefly with something darker—resentment, or perhaps something unspoken—as they settled on the young man standing before her.
"Your Majesty," she said, her tone impeccably formal but as frigid as a winter wind. "What an honour to have the Son of Heaven grace these humble chambers."
"Royal Mother," the emperor replied, inclining his head in acknowledgement. His voice was even, and controlled, yet his eyes held a steely edge. "You summoned Zhen. Speak plainly—what is it you wish to discuss?" The Empress Dowager's lips curved into a faint smile, though it lacked any warmth. "Must a mother have a reason to call upon her son?"
The emperor's gaze remained unwavering, his tone clipped. "Zhen has many responsibilities. If there is no matter of importance, Zhen will take his leave." Her smile tightened, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Always so eager to return to your pressing duties—or perhaps to your consorts. Word travels quickly within these walls." The emperor's eyes darkened, his gaze sharp enough to cut. "If you mean to disparage Zhen's choices, then speak directly."
"Very well," she said, her voice hardening like steel. "Your favouritism toward that commoner is unbecoming. You lavish attention on a man with no family, no standing. It diminishes you in the eyes of others and makes you appear... weak."
"That commoner is Zhen's consort," the emperor said coldly, each word deliberate, precise. "And Zhen will not tolerate anyone, not even you, speaking against him." The Empress Dowager let out a bitter laugh, its sharpness slicing through the silence. "So defensive," she mused, her gaze cutting into him. "Tell me, does he remind you of yourself? A boy cast aside by his parents, scrambling to prove his worth?" The emperor's jaw tightened, but his expression betrayed nothing. His tone, when he spoke, was cool and unyielding. "Zhen is nothing like him."
"Oh?" she replied, her gaze unflinching. "You may have killed your father, but you carry his shadow in your eyes, your voice, even your mannerisms. It clings to you like a second skin." The silence that followed was oppressive, laden with the weight of years of buried resentment and unspoken wounds.
"Zhen did not come here to discuss your opinions," the emperor said, breaking the silence. "If you have something to say about the hunt, say it."
The Empress Dowager's lips curled into a faint smirk. "The hunt, is it? A convenient setting for diplomacy cloaked in grandeur. You'll have your nobles fawning over you, yet your favour remains fixed on a commoner. Do you not think they notice? Or is it that you no longer care for alliances that strengthen the throne?"
"Zhen's alliances are stronger than ever," the emperor replied, his voice unwavering. "The royal hunt will proceed as planned, and Zhen will see to it personally."
"And what of the Han family?" she pressed, her tone growing sharper. "Do you not think their growing ambition warrants your attention? Han Changhua's title as Imperial Noble Consort may satisfy her father for now, but men like him are rarely content with mere breadcrumbs. They watch, waiting for weakness."
"The Han family's ambition is of no concern," the emperor replied coldly. "They are useful where they stand. As for Han Changhua, she knows her place."
"Does she?" the Empress Dowager asked, raising a brow. "Or do you trust too easily, blinded by your own confidence? A mistake your father made often." The emperor's gaze turned glacial, though his tone remained steady. "Zhen is not so easily deceived. If the Hans, or anyone else, dare overstep their bounds, Zhen will remind them of their place."
Her eyes narrowed. "Such certainty. But certainty does not shield you from betrayal, my son. The hunt is a game for predators, and even the most careful hunters can fall prey."
"Zhen appreciates the warning," the emperor said curtly, his patience thinning. "If there is nothing else, Zhen will take his leave." The Empress Dowager leaned back slightly, her gaze still sharp. "One final thought, Your Majesty. Do not let the past dictate your future. The scars of the father need not shape the son." The emperor's jaw tightened, and for a moment, an unspoken emotion flickered in his phoenix eyes. Then, with a sharp turn of his heel, he strode out of the chamber, his robes sweeping in a silken arc as the doors closed behind him with a resonant thud.
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Author's Corner.
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