Xiao Dezi had no time to care that barging in like this would certainly interrupt His Majesty’s “amorous diversion,” nor what disaster—even death—it might bring upon himself. Taking long strides, he headed straight for the sleeping chamber.
“What are you doing?” Someone suddenly seized his arm, and Mo Yan growled at him in a lowered voice.
Xiao Dezi stopped, showing neither hesitation nor fear. “This servant requests an audience with His Majesty. Steward Mo, please announce me. Or, if you’re afraid of bringing trouble upon yourself, simply let me go in alone.”
“Stop making trouble! Given… given what they’re doing, you should wait outside the hall for now.” Mo Yan looked painfully awkward, his gaze flickering toward the tightly shut doors and windows that still could not contain the soft, seductive moans emerging from within.
“I can afford to wait, but Her Majesty the Empress cannot!” Xiao Dezi shook off Mo Yan’s hand and charged directly into the sleeping chamber.
He opened the door and immediately dropped to his knees. The two people entangled upon the bed did not even notice when another person entered the room. The bed curtains billowed and rippled continuously, while the large bed rocked beneath them and groaned under the strain with repeated creak, creak sounds. Mo Yan, who had followed immediately afterward, looked at the two people lost in passion, then lowered his gaze toward the utterly impassive Xiao Dezi. On one side was the emperor, and on the other the empress. His hand froze halfway in the air, unable to decide whether he ought to stop Xiao Dezi or allow him to continue.
“Your Majesty, this servant is Xiao Dezi of Fengyi Palace. Her Majesty the Empress left the palace quarters in the middle of the night. Your Majesty, please send men to find him immediately!” Completely ignoring the heavy scent of lust permeating the room and turning a deaf ear to the obscene cries sounding continuously from the bed, Xiao Dezi delivered his report loudly and evenly.
The violently rocking bed came to an abrupt halt. Feng Xuanyi, who moments ago had still been lost in lovemaking and approaching the height of pleasure, suddenly stiffened, his vigorous movements stopping at once. A measure of clarity immediately returned to his eyes. “What did you say?”
When he spoke, his voice was dark and husky with lingering desire, magnetic and dangerously alluring.
“Your Majesty, please find Her Majesty the Empress’s whereabouts immediately.” Xiao Dezi showed not the slightest fear. If anything, his tone was almost aggressively insistent.
A faint rustling came from the bed before the curtain was abruptly pulled aside. Feng Xuanyi wore only a pair of inner trousers, his chest bare and his brows tightly drawn. He looked nothing like a sovereign who had just been indulging in carnal pleasure and far more like an Asura god of slaughter who had walked straight out of hell. Behind the opened curtain, Han Ruifeng lay dazed, his delicate profile flushed deeply with desire. His lips were enticingly red and gleamed with a suggestive sheen. His thin chest was completely exposed, rising and falling rapidly as he panted, while his arms lay weakly spread to either side. His naked, sweat-dampened body appeared especially alluring beneath the candlelight, and droplets of milky fluid dotted his flat abdomen. Most of his lower body remained concealed behind the other half of the hanging curtain, but the unmistakably wanton atmosphere could not be hidden.
“Where did he go? Why didn’t any of you stop him?!” Feng Xuanyi flew into a rage. In three rapid strides he was standing before Xiao Dezi, and had he not still needed answers, he undoubtedly would have kicked him without hesitation.
Whether court official or servant, all were expected to maintain reverence toward the sovereign, and without imperial permission, no one was allowed to stare directly at the dragon countenance. Xiao Dezi had served in the palace for many years and had always observed such rules flawlessly. Yet today, seemingly without even realizing it, he raised his head and looked directly at Feng Xuanyi. There was no fear or timidity in him whatsoever, and the extraordinary calmness in his expression seemed entirely at odds with his lowly status.
“Replying to Your Majesty, the empress is a master, while this servant occupies a humble position. This servant did not dare disobey so much as a word of Her Majesty the Empress’s command. Your Majesty, please forgive this servant.” Although his mouth asked forgiveness, his face showed not the slightest remorse. He remained neither servile nor arrogant.
“Bastard!” Even Feng Xuanyi, who had been steeped in the education of an emperor since childhood, could not help swearing. “Where is he now?!”
“Replying to Your Majesty, this servant does not know. When this servant realized I could not stop Master, I was also ordered not to follow, so I could only come and beg Your Majesty for help.” Without even blinking, Xiao Dezi added, “Unfortunately, I was delayed.”
Cold sweat poured down Mo Yan’s back as he listened. For a servant to openly pass judgment on whether his master was right or wrong was already outrageous, and this particular master happened to be the reigning emperor. Either Xiao Dezi had grown tired of living, or he was in an extraordinary hurry to reincarnate. Fortunately, Feng Xuanyi appeared not to have heard the remark at all. He snatched the yellow imperial robe draped over the folding screen, threw it over himself, and tied it carelessly. Whether from rage or worry, his eyes were frighteningly sharp. With no concern whatsoever for the dignity expected of the sovereign of a nation, he stormed out through the doors. “What are you all standing there for?! Mobilize every inner-palace guard and find him! He is absolutely not to leave the imperial palace!”
“Yes!” Mo Yan hurried after him, calling for the guards who had been too stunned by the emperor’s furious departure to react. Xiao Dezi, however, became unhurried instead. Turning a deaf ear to the imperial command, he remained kneeling inside the hall. Only after a long while did he slowly rise and leave.
Han Ruifeng’s breathing gradually calmed, and the haze and ripples of desire in his eyes slowly faded as well. Everything had happened too quickly. He had been about to reach the height of pleasure only to be abruptly abandoned and ignored, and now he lay silently upon the bed. Feng Xuanyi’s transformation from tender passion to chilling coldness, every movement he had made, and every word spoken by everyone in the room had been heard by Han Ruifeng with perfect clarity.
“Master, please don’t be upset. His Majesty still has you in his heart. Otherwise, why would he have broken precedent several times to promote you? And why has he summoned only you to attend him night after night?” Tong He crept inside timidly. He knew perfectly well how furious and resentful his master must be. No one could possibly remain calm after being treated this way. Moving closer with an angry, contemptuous expression, he spat viciously toward the doorway. “Pah! Isn’t he just relying on the fact that he’s empress? He ought to look at himself and see whether His Majesty is still willing to spare another glance at that half-dead appearance of his. And even now he refuses to behave, resorting to such despicable tricks as pretending to disappear and sending a servant over to lure His Majesty away—”
“Tong He.” Han Ruifeng’s voice remained languid and hoarse, revealing just how vigorously he had been crying out moments ago. “Have you gone blind? His Majesty rushed out of here in a panic of his own accord. No one forced him.”
Tong He immediately fell silent. His face paled as he lowered his head, not daring to look at Han Ruifeng, whose naked body now seemed to radiate a strangely icy aura.
“Since His Majesty is willing to go and see what happened, and since Her Majesty the Empress and I have been close friends for many years, how could I possibly remain indifferent and show no concern?” Suddenly, a smile that could only be described as cruel and bloodthirsty appeared upon Han Ruifeng’s face. “Dress me.”
“Yes.” Tong He efficiently gathered the luxurious robes that had been discarded all over the floor.
“Have Qing Zhu come as well.” Han Ruifeng rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet. “We’ll follow from a distance.”
At this moment, the rare cool breeze of the midsummer night was soothing, carrying a hint of dampness. The moist air was pleasant to breathe. The faint murmur of flowing water could be heard in the distance, while the incessant cries of cicadas sounded everywhere. This was the vitality of summer, the life of summer, yet none of it belonged to Nalan Xuan, who had nothing left.
He wandered without aim, freely and without restraint. Though his body was covered in wounds and pain, for once he did not have to concern himself with the noise and entanglements of the mortal world. This freedom had once been his longing and his rightful place, yet somehow he had been swept into this struggle for power, somehow allowed himself to sink into it. He had come here clean and unburdened, yet now he could no longer leave in the same way.
Nalan Xuan knew that once he stepped beyond those palace gates, he would reach the world he had long yearned for. Perhaps he would become destitute, perhaps he would even starve to death in the streets, but he would be free to live as he pleased. Yet although only a single wall separated him from that world, the distance between the two sides was as vast as that between one lifetime and the next, between heaven and earth.
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