Chapter 9: another lesson
The next morning, a bright ray of sunlight pierced through the cracks in the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. The light fell directly onto Wei Zhi's face, stirring him from his slumber. He blinked slowly, his long lashes fluttering as the golden rays illuminated them. His warm, blackish-brown eyes, usually dark and intense, now shimmered like amber under the sunlight, glowing softly.
As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he lay still for a moment, the soft humming from his dream echoing faintly in his mind. The melody clung to him like a distant memory, familiar yet ungraspable. He blinked again, his heart still carrying the calmness that the melody had brought him, as if it were still playing somewhere far off.
Slowly, he stretched his limbs, testing his body, his thoughts still foggy. But as he shifted to sit up, something strange dawned on him. He paused, his movements stilled by a curious realization.
His back didn't hurt.
The wounds the stinging cuts from the previous day's punishment were gone. His muscles moved freely, without the sharp pangs he had anticipated. No bruises, no raw flesh. It was as if the pain had never existed. He frowned slightly, bringing a hand to his back, half-expecting to feel the ridges of healing scars. But there was nothing. Smooth skin, untouched.
"How…?" His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as confusion overtook him. He vividly remembered the whip striking his skin, the unbearable pain that had forced him into unconsciousness. But now nothing.
He sat up fully, the warmth of the sunlight bathing him, but his mind raced. "Was it a dream?" he thought to himself. No, the punishment had been real. The pain, the humiliation, everything. But now, his body felt as though it had been untouched by any of it. He flexed his shoulders, still half-expecting the stiffness to return, but all he felt was a strange lightness.
He looked down at his hands, turning them over, trying to make sense of what had happened. His thoughts drifted back to the man from the lake the silver-haired stranger with the haunting melody. Could he have done something? Was it possible that the man had healed him in that strange, dreamlike encounter?
Wei Zhi's mind spiraled with questions, but no answers came. He touched his forehead, trying to focus, but all he could feel was the lingering calm from the man's presence. For the first time in a long while, there was no ache, no pain tethering him to his harsh reality. Just the silence of the room and the warmth of the sun.
Still, something felt… off. He couldn't shake the sense that the encounter with the silver-haired man had been more than just a dream. It had felt too real his presence, the melody, the touch of his cool fingers over Wei Zhi's eyes. And now, his body was whole again, as if the man had undone the suffering he had endured.
Wei Zhi sighed deeply, a mixture of relief and unease washing over him. "Who are you?" he whispered into the empty room, his voice soft, uncertain. But no answer came only the soft hum of the morning air and the faint echoes of a tune that seemed to follow him, wherever he went.
With a sigh, he rose from the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, his mind still clinging to the melody. Whatever had happened, one thing was clear: he had been touched by something or someone far beyond his understanding. And for now, all he could do was try to make sense of the mystery that lay ahead.
Today was different. The lesson awaiting Wei Zhi wasn't about physical endurance or martial prowess but instead the princely arts literature, etiquette, and subjects befitting a future ruler, like the politics, economics, and geography of the empire. These lessons, though less physically taxing, were just as crucial in shaping a prince's mind and demeanor. The expectation to master these disciplines was no less daunting, especially under his mother's ever-watchful gaze.
Wei Zhi rose slowly from his bed, the soft light of dawn filtering through the delicate silk curtains of his chamber. His body moved with a stiffness not from pain, but from the weight of the thoughts that crowded his mind. The events of the previous day, the strange encounter with the man from the lake, lingered with him. As his feet touched the cool floor, he took a deep breath, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream or whatever it had been.
He walked out onto the outer porch of the pavilion, seeking the fresh morning air. The wind was light, carrying with it the scent of blooming flowers. As his eyes scanned the table, something unusual caught his attention. A silver, translucent flower lay there, gleaming softly in the early sunlight. It was unlike any flower he had ever seen delicate, almost ethereal. Its petals shimmered with an otherworldly light, as though it wasn't truly of this world.
Curious, Wei Zhi picked it up, inspecting it closely. The coolness of its surface sent a calming wave through his body, much like the feeling he'd experienced in the presence of the silver-haired man. There was something soothing, yet mysterious about the flower. He felt a strange connection to it, though he couldn't explain why.
After a moment, he decided to keep it. With careful steps, he brought the flower back into his room and placed it gently on the table beside his bed. His gaze lingered on it for a moment longer before he bent down and reached under his bed.
From beneath, he pulled out a beautifully decorated box. The carvings on it were intricate, depicting vines wrapped around the edges, intertwining and spiraling towards the center. In the middle of the box, a carving of a flower caught the eye almost identical to the one he had just found. It was a strange coincidence, but one Wei Zhi didn't question too much. The box itself was a relic, an object he had always known to be valuable, though its true origins were shrouded in mystery.
He slid open the box, revealing its contents. Inside were items of great majesty rare jewels, ancient scrolls, and talismans inscribed with runes of protection and power. Each item was something no ordinary person could possess. They were relics of a time long past, gifts from elders and scholars at the time of his birth, meant to safeguard and strengthen him as he grew. His fingers traced the edges of one of the scrolls, feeling the weight of the knowledge it contained.
His nanny had once told him that this box had appeared alongside him after his birth celebration a token of fate, perhaps. At the time, the Empress had been filled with hope, believing she might one day regain her lost core, and she had adored him, her firstborn, with all her heart. The box had been kept as a keepsake of those better times, before things had soured between them.
Wei Zhi sighed, his thoughts heavy. He lifted the silver flower from the table and placed it delicately inside the box, beside the other treasured items. It seemed to belong there, as if it had always been part of his collection.
"I wonder…" Wei Zhi whispered to himself, locking the box once more. The sense of mystery surrounding the flower, the man from the lake, and his own existence weighed on his mind. There were too many questions, too many secrets hidden just out of reach.
As he slid the box back under his bed, he stood up, his mind filled with swirling thoughts. He couldn't help but feel that the flower, like the man in his dreams, was a sign something connected to a larger destiny, a path he had yet to uncover.