And the most tragic truth was this: if everything Yelü Zhen had said was real, if every impossible assumption were accepted as fact, then there could be no one else but that man who fathered the child.
Ning Xuan had believed that after being deceived, harmed, and used time and again, his heart had finally become still as water. He could give up, watch coldly from the sidelines, care about nothing, and desire nothing. That was precisely what he had done. He refused to speak with others, refused contact, and rejected everything within the imperial palace. He wanted nothing to do with any person, object, plant, or matter here. He had done remarkably well and had even been satisfied with his present circumstances: ignored by everyone, living entirely for himself, without hope or expectation. Although such an existence was hardly different from death, he had nevertheless endured these days.
Yet now this had happened. Something precious that should never have appeared had arrived at the worst possible moment. The time was wrong, the place was wrong, and the people involved were wrong. It was as though Heaven had yawned and made a careless joke, only for that joke to fall accidentally upon Ning Xuan’s head and leave him to bear the consequences.
Ning Xuan could no longer tell what he and Feng Xuanyi were to each other or what remained between them. He was too tired to speculate and too weary to think about it. He did not care. Experience had repeatedly taught him that the person who cared first was the one who lost, and the person who cared first was the one who suffered. Yet even if Ning Xuan could remain indifferent and continue rejecting everything in this world, he could no longer refuse to consider the child inside him.
It was his child—and Feng Xuanyi’s child, the son of the reigning emperor. Ning Xuan did not ask that the child enjoy boundless wealth or even ascend the throne. He wanted only for the child to survive safely. Struggles within the imperial palace had never ceased throughout any dynasty. A mother could rise through her son, but a child’s fate could likewise depend upon the standing of its mother. Merely because Ning Xuan was a man, he could already foresee how difficult the road ahead would be for the child in his womb.
Before, his heart had been dead. He had no family, no connections, and no desires, so he had refused to step into these muddy waters. Now, however, the choice was no longer his to make. In that instant, Ning Xuan finally understood the helplessness that had driven countless people onto this blood-soaked road of honeyed words, hidden blades, and endless schemes. From this moment onward, he too would become one of them. Each person pursued a different desire, selling their beauty and exhausting every method to please and flatter that man. They smiled while sharing him with countless others and had to remain tactful—showing jealousy when jealousy was expected and displaying generosity when propriety demanded it. They rushed to compete for a favor that had never truly existed from beginning to end: favor without love.
A breeze entered the room, carrying with it the last snowfall of the year. Candle flames flickered, and red gauze drifted dreamily through the air. Seated before the dressing table, Ning Xuan studied the person reflected in the bronze mirror. His features were like a painting, his skin pale and exquisite. Every inch of him possessed a silent, suffocating beauty. His phoenix eyes curved upward, proud and distant yet retaining a subtle allure. He pressed his lips together, then slowly raised their corners into a smile—slightly wicked, slightly wanton, slightly intoxicating, and utterly captivating.
“Xiao Dezi, compared with the other ladies and young gentlemen in the palace, how far behind am I?”
Xiao Dezi was ordinarily competent and quick, forever moving as though struck by lightning and filled with inexhaustible energy. When Ning Xuan voluntarily asked him a question and received no response, he turned around in surprise. Xiao Dezi had just finished arranging the bed and now stood behind him with his mouth hanging open, staring foolishly at the mirror. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, thoroughly entranced.
“Xiao Dezi.”
At last returning to his senses, Xiao Dezi dropped to his knees with a thud and began knocking his head repeatedly against the floor. “This servant has offended Master! This servant deserves death! This servant deserves death!”
Ning Xuan waved him away without concern. Wearing only his inner robe, he turned back toward the mirror. Resting his cheek upon one hand, he propped up his chin and contemplated his reflection. Xiao Dezi’s reaction had already explained everything. This face was undeniably too exquisite and far too striking. Ning Xuan could only be grateful to the parents who had given it to him. Strangely, he could no longer remember who they were, but at this moment, such conspicuous beauty was precisely what he needed.
Even now, however, he could not help thinking: How long can favor last when one serves another through beauty alone? Ning Xuan did not seek sincerity, and Feng Xuanyi possessed none to give. Their transaction would be one of mutual benefit, founded entirely upon Feng Xuanyi’s interest and Ning Xuan’s youth. Yet time passed swiftly, and no one knew when they might reach the unpredictable end of all things. Ning Xuan could only wonder whether he would achieve his aim before that end arrived and secure a peaceful, tranquil sky for the unborn child within him.
Heroes lost their resolve when entangled in tender feelings. Ning Xuan had never imagined that he would one day become like this—accepting so quickly the strangeness of his own body and the fact that the world could not tolerate it, compromising himself while overflowing with maternal instinct. Had anyone said such a thing about him in the past, he would have slapped them across the face. Yet now, even Ning Xuan himself could not help finding it laughable.
Here he was, planning to abandon his dignity and pride, compete for favor, and depend upon a man who had once abandoned, exploited, and deceived him. Meanwhile, that man was undoubtedly lost in some other beauty’s tender embrace. The thought of Feng Xuanyi kissing him with lips that had kissed countless others, holding him with arms that had embraced countless bodies, and Ning Xuan having no choice but to lean against a chest where countless others had rested—all while pretending to be delighted—made him feel utterly sick.
“Ugh! Ugh!” The mere thought sent a surge of nausea through him. Sour fluid churned upward from his stomach, while his lower abdomen joined the commotion with wave after wave of cramping pain. Bending forward and retching, Ning Xuan could feel the veins at his temple throbbing and a restless agitation stirring inside his abdomen. It was as though his emotions had affected the child within him—or as though the still-formless child could somehow read his thoughts and was resisting and struggling against them.
“Master, what happened?” Hearing him, Xiao Dezi rushed inside from where he had been keeping watch beneath the veranda. He crossed the room in several quick strides and gently stroked Ning Xuan’s back again and again.
“I probably ate something too greasy tonight and haven’t digested it properly. Prepare a bowl of plain, easily digested congee.”
Yelü Zhen had told him to eat nourishing food and force himself to swallow it even if he had no appetite. The result was that he now lay awake in the middle of the night, sickened by the richness of what he had eaten. Sometimes Ning Xuan could not understand himself. He clearly should have remained extremely wary of Yelü Zhen, and in truth, he was. They were not so hostile that every meeting immediately ended in a fight to the death, but neither were they close or familiar. Because of Yelü Zhen’s offensive remarks that day, Ning Xuan had treated him coldly from beginning to end. Yet no matter how indifferent, disdainful, or condescending Ning Xuan appeared outwardly, he had nevertheless taken much of Yelü Zhen’s advice to heart. Although doubtful and suspicious that the man might harbor ulterior motives, Ning Xuan had unconsciously begun testing his suggestions. As one after another proved correct and harmless, he had grown increasingly bold, until there was no stopping him.
“This servant will see to it immediately.” Xiao Dezi obeyed and vanished in a flash.
Ning Xuan’s emotions remained tangled beyond description. This strange, sudden craving for a particular kind of food only forced him closer to the words morning sickness. He could think of no other reasonable explanation.
Leave a Reply