Chapter Six: A Chance Encounter
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a soft, golden glow over the palace gardens as Crown Imperial Prince Liang Fengxian made his way through the winding paths. His steps were slow and deliberate, his dark eyes scanning the tranquil pond that lay before him. He had come to investigate the strange phenomenon of the water dragon that had appeared a week ago—a creature so real it had nearly taken Lady Qin Yue's life. He hasn't had the time to investigate. The incident had left the court in whispers and speculation, and Fengxian was determined to uncover its source.
He stopped at the edge of the pond, his sharp gaze studying the surface of the water. The lilies bobbed gently with the breeze, their white petals glistening with droplets of morning dew. The pond looked calm, serene even, but Fengxian could not shake the feeling that something lingered beneath its surface—something beyond the reach of ordinary understanding.
Just as he was about to lean closer, a soft cry broke the stillness.
"Ah—!"
Fengxian turned in time to see Qin Yuan lose his footing on the mossy stones that lined the pond's edge. In a flurry of robes, Yuan tumbled forward, arms flailing, before splashing into the water with a resounding plop. For a moment, there was silence. Then, as Qin Yuan's head emerged from the water, hair plastered to his face and a bewildered expression on his features, Fengxian could not help himself. A deep, rumbling laugh escaped his lips.
Qin Yuan's cheeks flushed a deep red,his eyes wide with a mix of shock and embarrassment. He blinked, wiping water from his eyes with one hand, while his other flailed to keep him steady in the pond. "Your Highness," he sputtered, "I…I didn't see you there."
Fengxian's laughter grew louder, rich and genuine, breaking through the usual stoic demeanor he wore like armor. "You certainly have a talent for making an entrance, Yuan," he chuckled, stepping forward to offer a hand. "Come, before you drown in two feet of water."
Qin Yuan hesitated, his pride stung, but he finally accepted the offered hand. As Fengxian pulled him out of the pond, Yuan stumbled a little, his wet robes clinging to him, and nearly fell again. This only made the prince laugh more. "Careful now, scholar," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "The garden has no mercy for the distracted."
Yuan managed a sheepish smile, though his heart raced at their proximity. "I assure you, Your Highness, I am usually much more graceful."
Fengxian's laughter softened, a smile lingering on his lips. "Of that, I have no doubt."
As they stood together, the tension from the past week seemed to dissolve in the air. Fengxian found himself unexpectedly charmed by Yuan's presence, by the way his golden-brown eyes sparkled even in the most awkward of moments, by his sincerity, so different from the court's constant pretense. He led Qin Yuan to a nearby bench, and they sat under the shade of a blossoming cherry tree, its petals drifting gently in the breeze.
Over the next few hours, they talked—first of the mysterious water dragon, Qin Yuan ensuring that he didn't mention feeling connected to dragon, and then of other things: literature, philosophy, the hidden meanings in ancient texts. Yuan spoke passionately of his favorite poems, his voice light and melodic, drawing Fengxian deeper into his world. Fengxian listened more than he spoke, finding an unexpected solace in Yuan's words, a warmth he had not realized he was missing.
In the days that followed, Fengxian found himself seeking Yuan's company more and more. They met in the royal library, where Yuan's love for books seemed endless. Fengxian would often find him there, surrounded by scrolls and texts, his fingers tracing the characters on the parchment as if they were alive.
At first, Fengxian had only intended to keep a closer eye on Yuan, curious about the young scholar's connection to the recent events. But as the days passed, he found himself drawn to the tranquility Yuan exuded, the quiet strength that lay beneath his gentle demeanor. They would sit for hours, their conversations drifting from the trivial to the profound, a strange but comfortable rhythm developing between them. Fengxian just couldn't get enough of the young scholar. And he felt truly sorry because he is the brother of his wife and the future empress.
Sometimes, they would sit in silence, the only sounds being the rustling of pages and the faint chirping of birds outside. Fengxian felt at ease in these moments, a peace he seldom found in the chaotic world of court life.
But there were times when Yuan seemed distant, his amber eyes clouded with a thought he did not share. Fengxian noticed the slight tremble in Yuan's fingers when he reached for a new scroll, the way his gaze would occasionally drift to the garden outside, as if looking for something unseen. There was a mystery to this young scholar that intrigued him, something just beneath the surface that called to him like a whisper on the wind.
One afternoon, as they sat together, Fengxian looked at Yuan with a curious expression. "You seem troubled, Qin Yuan," he remarked. "Your mind is elsewhere."
Yuan blinked, quickly masking his surprise. "Just…dreams," he replied quietly. "Strange dreams I cannot quite place."
Fengxian raised an eyebrow. "Dreams, you say?"
Yuan nodded, his gaze shifting away. "Yes… dreams that feel too real, too vivid." He offered a small, hesitant smile. "But they are nothing to concern yourself with, Your Highness. Merely the fancies of an overactive mind."
Fengxian did not press further, but a lingering thought remained in his mind—a sense that there was more to Qin Yuan than met the eye. And he was determined to find out.
A sense of something awakening—something powerful and unknown—lingers in the air, a subtle tension building between them. The bond between Fengxian and Qin Yuan deepens, but so too does the mystery, hinting at the dangers yet to come.