Yi Xuan, still not satisfied, cast a resentful glance at Yi Guang’s retreating figure before regaining his enthusiasm. Leaning close to Ning Xuan, he whispered, “It’s because of the Master’s inexplicable temper upon waking. On the morning after the grand wedding, he hadn’t quite come to his senses yet—when he saw there was suddenly someone else in bed, he didn’t even think and just kicked the Consort straight off the bed!”
Yi Xuan struggled to suppress his laughter. Though it was improper for servants to gossip about their master behind his back, rules were rules—yet how many could truly devote themselves wholeheartedly, serving without complaint or expectation of return? Most merely acted obedient on the surface, while behind the scenes, during idle moments after meals, they amused themselves with all sorts of gossip and anecdotes. As for whether one would be caught and punished, that depended entirely on one’s own skill and methods. As the saying goes, rumors are a fearsome thing—once spread, they only grow darker with embellishment. Even if the various households knew of it, they could only pretend ignorance, letting it pass from one ear to the other; at the very least, appearances had to be maintained.
“Steward Mo instructed me to guide you for a while, so you don’t make any mistakes that drag all of us down with you. So from now on, you’ll follow me—learn well~” With that, Yi Xuan strolled off at ease.
Watching Yi Xuan’s departing figure, backlit by the morning sun, Ning Xuan realized for the first time just how blinding the dawn light could be—so bright it was impossible to look at directly. He no longer had the mind to listen to Yi Xuan’s remaining words; it was as if he had gone deaf, only able to see Yi Xuan’s lips moving without hearing a sound. Deep within his mind, a voice echoed over and over: So he already has a wife. This Prince Rong’s residence has its own mistress—the Prince Consort.
Of course… as one born of the imperial family, how could he lack companions and beauties by his side…
A heavy weight pressed upon his chest, as though a massive stone had been laid there, making it hard to breathe. What exactly… was he feeling?
Meanwhile, on the other side, Feng Xuanyi was unusually distracted in court today, losing focus more than once.
“Fifth brother… Fifth brother!” The First Prince, Prince Yi, Feng Xuanzhe, leaned slightly closer and called out in a low voice, snapping Feng Xuanyi back from his wandering thoughts. “Father Emperor is asking you a question!”
Feng Xuanyi started slightly, lowered his gaze, raised his hands, adjusted his sleeves, and knelt—his demeanor respectful yet composed, neither servile nor arrogant. “Your son requests punishment from Father Emperor.”
On the Dragon Throne, clad in imperial yellow, with a five-clawed golden dragon soaring across his chest in majestic splendor, sat Emperor Huawen. Though the years had left indelible marks upon his face, and illness had paled his complexion, his bearing had not diminished. Instead, his commanding aura had grown even sharper and more imposing.
Emperor Huawen waved his hand, signaling Feng Xuanyi to rise, and chuckled. “It’s truly rare to see my fifth son lose focus. No matter—it wasn’t anything important. I was merely acting as a messenger, asking on behalf of your eighth brother whether you’ve prepared the snow deer meat. He’s been waiting to eat it upon his return.”
It seemed that the western campaign must have gone exceptionally well, and that the eighth prince had performed outstandingly, bringing back successive victories—no wonder Father Emperor was in such high spirits. Yet Feng Xuanyi could not help but sigh inwardly; all the earnest advice he had given before the expedition at the hunting grounds had likely fallen on deaf ears.
“The snow deer meat has already been fully prepared in my residence. Even the chefs have been carefully selected—everything awaits Eighth Brother’s triumphant return,” Feng Xuanyi replied. His usually unfathomable and inscrutable expression had completely vanished in court, replaced by a bright, almost youthful smile. There was a trace of innocence to it, fitting for his eighteen years of age—no longer naïve, yet not entirely devoid of youthful simplicity.
“Good. I shall have an urgent dispatch sent back today,” Emperor Huawen said, waving the memorial that had arrived via express courier from the frontier before the assembled officials. His eyes were filled with amusement, as though, in this moment, he were not the lofty emperor but merely a delighted father receiving a long-awaited letter from his son. “Look here—he reports the military situation quite properly, yet at the very end, he still couldn’t resist adding this little request.”
“Your son has enjoyed Father Emperor’s upbringing for many years, living in luxury, yet I cannot compare to Eighth Brother. A young general at such an age, already capable of easing Father Emperor’s burdens and eliminating external threats. Though I cannot match the Crown Prince in literary talent, nor Eighth Brother in martial prowess, I can at least use my wits to assist him from the side. If I can truly be of help, it would fulfill my wish to share Father Emperor’s burdens,” Feng Xuanyi said sincerely, his words filled with apparent filial devotion.
Emperor Huawen narrowed his eyes slightly and nodded in satisfaction.
At this moment, however, the Crown Prince Feng Xuanmo suddenly spoke up. Though his face was full of smiles and concern, the underlying implication in his words made Prince Yi clench his fists in anger: “Fifth Brother and Eighth Brother truly share a close bond. As fellow brothers, it really makes me, your Second Brother, feel ashamed in comparison. Next time you meet in private, do invite me along as well—so I can take the opportunity to strengthen the affection between us brothers. Otherwise, if we grow distant, what then? Seeing how Eighth Brother used such an important express dispatch to send a message back—while greeting Father Emperor, he still didn’t forget Fifth Brother. Truly enviable. It seems that in Eighth Brother’s heart, Father Emperor and Fifth Brother are equally important.”
Hearing this, Emperor Huawen, who had just been smiling warmly, suddenly stiffened. Without a word, he set down the document that he had been holding moments ago with such delight, intending to share his joy with his sons. The soft sound of the memorial landing on the desk was not loud, yet it was enough to make everyone present fall silent in fear.
At present, due to Emperor Huawen’s lingering illness and lack of recovery, both court and country were restless. Princes and officials alike were forming factions, colluding with one another in their struggle for the throne. Although many had previously been executed for such behavior, the activity had merely shifted from the open into the shadows—and was only growing more severe.
At such a critical juncture, a remark like this—especially coming from one of Emperor Huawen’s most favored sons—was no different from fanning the flames and adding fuel to the fire. What the emperor feared most was exactly this. The imperial heart was unfathomable; even for princes, when the stability of the realm was at stake, maintaining order at the borders and within the court could justify even wrongful killings.
Yet Feng Xuanyi alone seemed completely unaware. He maintained his smile, not only failing to notice Emperor Huawen’s change in expression upon the Dragon Throne, but even appearing openly proud and gratified upon hearing those words, laughing with carefree ease.
“In truth, it’s nothing much. The two of us grew up together, and we’re close in age. Most importantly, Eighth Brother enjoys hunting, but our elder brothers are usually occupied with official duties and quite busy. Only I, a leisurely idler, can’t avoid being caught by him and dragged along to the hunting grounds time and again. After so many years of being tormented by him, it’d be strange if he didn’t think of me now!” Feng Xuanyi said with a wry smile, as though he truly found it all quite troublesome.
“If His Highness the Crown Prince were to join us in the future, that would be wonderful! Not only would Eighth Brother be delighted, but I would also be deeply grateful to Your Highness for rescuing me from my suffering.” As he spoke, Feng Xuanyi even cupped his hands in a respectful salute toward Crown Prince Feng Xuanmo, expressing his gratitude.
Hearing this, Emperor Huawen’s stiff expression eased slightly, though it was still not as relaxed as when he had first entered the imperial study.
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