Who had spoken with such absolute resolve and such piercing sorrow? “In this life, may your reign endure for ten thousand generations and your throne remain forever secure. In the next life, may you and I meet—and never know each other!”
Why had he spoken of this life, and why had he spoken of the next?!
Who had leapt from the wall with such finality, staking life and death upon that single motion?!
Who had it been?
Who?!
It had been… Nalan Xuan…!!
Feng Xuanyi ran wildly through the palace. Countless people turned to stare, countless people looked astonished, countless people bowed respectfully, and countless people fell silent in fear. Once, Feng Xuanyi had enjoyed the sensation of controlling everything, enjoyed standing high above the world with heaven and earth seemingly held within his grasp and all things left for him to manipulate as he pleased. Even yesterday, he had still believed that. No matter how many things had felt wrong, he could deceive himself into thinking he was merely overthinking, inventing problems where none existed. But from this instant onward, heaven and earth collapsed. Everything he had believed for twenty-one years overturned and came crashing down overnight.
The only thing he cared about, the only thing that mattered to him, the only thing he wanted, was one person’s gaze, one person’s willingness to stay, one person’s acknowledgment, one person’s smile, one person’s joy and anger, every tiny thing about that one person. That person alone—Nalan Xuan.
Yet at the very instant Feng Xuanyi realized Nalan Xuan had truly entered his heart, he understood something else as well: he had lost him. Like sand slipping between his fingers, by the time Feng Xuanyi finally woke to the truth and tried to close his hand, he discovered too late that not even a trace of dust remained.
He had never known that this magnificent imperial palace could be so enormous—so enormous that it inspired fear, so enormous that it suffocated him. The distance between one palace and another seemed as long as crossing mountains and valleys. The road from Fengyi Palace to the palace gates seemed to span heaven and earth itself. No matter how desperately he ran, he could never reach the end, just as no matter how desperately he chased now, he could never reach Nalan Xuan or recover the years already lost between them.
“Who goes there?” Seeing a man in nothing but a thin inner robe racing toward the gates with his long hair hanging loose, the guards immediately became alert. One hand went to a sword as several men stepped forward to block his way.
“Get out of my way!” Feng Xuanyi had no patience for ceremony now. His face was deathly pale, his eyes dark and lifeless as deep water, making him resemble an asura emerging from hell.
The guards were just preparing to draw their weapons when they finally recognized the approaching man as the reigning emperor—the same emperor who had arrived in the middle of the night the previous evening, driven the empress to his death, then turned around and returned to the palace without another word. Their faces instantly drained of color. Half frightened out of their souls, they dropped to their knees and kowtowed. “This servant deserves death! This servant did not know Your Majesty had arrived and offended Your Majesty. This servant—”
“Get out!!” Feng Xuanyi wanted only to go outside and look, though he did not even know what he hoped to see: that person’s cold body, shattered beyond recognition, or the empty ground outside the palace gates after everything had already been cleaned away.
There was no time to care about anything else. Several guards rushed forward and positioned themselves on either side, straining together to open the heavy gates that seemed like stones separating one world from another.
There was nothing. Nothing at all. The space was empty except for a few leaves that remained vividly green. The broad road beyond the palace gates held no trace of the person Feng Xuanyi wanted to see. He did not know whether he should feel relieved or devastated. Even their final meeting had taken place beneath the hazy night, in a half-drunken state he had mistaken for a nightmare.
“Where is he?! Where is he?! Where did you take him?!” Feng Xuanyi seized one of the guards by the collar and effortlessly hauled him forward.
“Th-This servant doesn’t know! Whoever Your Majesty wishes to find, this servant will immediately search for them.” The guard had no idea what was happening and trembled like a sieve. His face was white as paper, cold sweat pouring from his forehead. He did not dare meet Feng Xuanyi’s furious gaze, as though a single glance might swallow him whole. “Your Majesty, please spare this servant!”
Who was there to find? Who was there to search for? Those words hammered painfully against Feng Xuanyi’s mind, as though something had burrowed into his skull and begun tearing through it. He released the guard’s collar and stood blankly before the deserted palace gates. Morning court had not yet begun, so the officials had not arrived and the area remained cold and empty.
A desperate spark of hope suddenly flashed through his mind. What if I was wrong? What if I remembered it wrong? What if it really was only a nightmare? What if everything was false? What if even this moment is only a dream, and once I wake up everything will return to normal? Nalan Xuan will still be in Fengyi Palace, and I will still need to rise for morning court. That means he never left me. That means we were never separated by life and death… Yes! It must be an illusion! It must be a dream! It must only be because I thought of him during the day and dreamed of him at night! Death… impossible. Absolutely impossible! At the very least, if he were alive I should see the person, and if he were dead I should see the body. But there is nothing here! Nothing at all! So—
“Imperial Brother…”
A low, heavy voice interrupted Feng Xuanyi’s desperate struggle against reality, scattering the countless excuses filling his mind.
Prince Yu had only just risen that morning when the servants at his residence began talking over one another about the disturbances and chaos inside the palace the previous night. Already suspicious, he had not even had time for breakfast before deciding to come to the palace ahead of morning court and investigate. Before he could leave, however, the man Mo Yan sent had arrived at his residence seeking help. Thus, when the Eighth Prince, Prince Yu Feng Xuanzhen, hurried to the palace, this was the sight that greeted him: his imperial brother standing before the palace gates in nothing but his sleeping robes, his long hair disheveled, his face pale, his eyes empty and unfocused. His expression was broken and despairing. One moment his brows were tightly furrowed, the next a strange smile appeared on his lips. He looked almost mad.
Feng Xuanzhen gathered his strength and leapt through the air, landing steadily beside his imperial brother. Feng Xuanyi seemed to have lost all five senses and did not react in the slightest. Feng Xuanzhen, who knew just as little about what had happened or how matters had reached this point, felt an inexplicable thread of fear rise inside him.
“Why are you in my dream too?” The last fragile strand of hope Feng Xuanyi had clung to began swaying in the wind the instant Feng Xuanzhen appeared. Of all the imperial brothers, after Feng Xuanyi ascended the throne, the only one still alive and trusted was Prince Yu, Feng Xuanzhen. Ordinarily Feng Xuanyi always greeted him warmly and treated him with brotherly affection, yet now he questioned him almost accusingly, as though asking, Why must even you appear and destroy the last bit of hope I have left?
“What?” Feng Xuanzhen could not follow Feng Xuanyi’s train of thought. He was completely bewildered, but he did not dare show impatience, not beneath that painfully sincere, searching gaze or the absolute certainty with which Feng Xuanyi seemed to regard reality itself as nothing more than a dream.
“Why are you in my dream too… Why…” The searching look in Feng Xuanyi’s eyes gave way to defeat and loss. He withdrew his gaze, seeming to cut himself off entirely from the world around him, and turned back toward the palace while murmuring to himself, “This is obviously a dream… It’s a dream… none of this is real…”
Feng Xuanzhen remained frozen where he stood, uncertain whether to advance or retreat. Never before had he seen his imperial brother, always so spirited and commanding, look so utterly defeated. In the past, wherever he stood and whatever situation he faced, Feng Xuanyi had always seemed supremely confident, as though nothing in the world possessed any real significance and every problem would inevitably unravel the moment it entered his hands. Everything about him had always been perfect, exalted, unreachable, and without weakness. Yet now he seemed so lost that even heaven and earth had gone dark around him. Even his retreating figure looked helpless and desolate. And to use a word like helpless for an emperor was almost absurd in its irony.
Leave a Reply