Her movements stilled as she was cleaning up the bowls.

 

“Hmm?” She asked softly, her voice trembling slightly at the end.

 

“I’ve been feeling a bit strange lately,” he said, tilting his head. “Ever since that day I was injured and fell into the water, when I woke up, you’ve been especially nice to me.”

 

He paused, then continued, “Did you…find out something?”

 

“Find out something?” She lowered her head and resumed cleaning up.

 

He thought for a moment. “You’re willing to feed me medicine, allow me to sleep next to you, give me candy every day, and you even took the initiative to let me hug you…”

 

“Didn’t I already tell you?” She kept her head lowered. “You were badly injured that time and still haven’t fully recovered. Seeing you as a patient, of course I’ll be a bit nicer to you!”

 

“But,” he contemplated, “I feel…”

 

Before he could finish speaking, the young girl beside him swiftly knocked him out with a hand chop to the neck.

 

His head tilted to the side as he collapsed into her embrace. She held him, bowing her head, resting her chin on his forehead as she gazed softly at his sleeping face, a faint smile on her lips.

 

“Keep quiet and sleep for a bit,” she murmured. “What’s there to overthink?”

 

She leaned over him and commanded, “Xie Kang, when you wake up, you’d best forget about this conversation.”

 

The afternoon sun shone in, glinting off his long curled lashes. She nuzzled his cheek with her chin, whispering in his ear, “You’re not ready yet for me to know your secret.”

 

“…Wait until the day you voluntarily tell me yourself,” she continued softly. “I want to hear it from you directly.”

 

When Xie Wuyang woke up again, the young girl beside him was propping up her cheek, absentmindedly twirling a lock of his hair around her finger out of boredom.

 

Seeing him open his eyes, she immediately asked, “What do you still remember?”

 

“Hmm…” He thought groggily for a moment. “I was going to ask you something, wasn’t I?”

 

Another gentle hand chop swiftly knocked him unconscious.

 

By the time he woke up for the third time, dusk had already fallen.

 

A wisp of rosy sunset glow wafted lazily into the hall, landing on the girl’s hair like scattering specks of golden dust. Her fair skin seemed to glow against the soft golden light, luminous as jade.

 

Still in a daze, he turned to look at her. “My lady…what time is it now?” His voice was blurred with sleep.

 

“Going into the hour of the nursing,” she replied, eyes alert like a kitten’s. “Do you remember what you did before falling asleep?”

 

“Mm…” He yawned tiredly, trying to recall. “Had a bowl of noodles? My lady’s cooking skills really are quite special.”

 

She huffed in response. “Time for the evening meal.” She pulled him up by the hand. “All you did today was eat and sleep.”

 

“How lovely,” he smiled lightly, letting her pull him to his feet.

 

The two of them sat down to dinner. After pondering briefly, Xie Wuyang said to Jiang Kui, “Shall we go see my mother tonight?”

 

“Not pretending to be unconscious anymore?” she asked.

 

These past days, Xie Wuyang had pretended to be comatose and unresponsive. All sorts of people had come to see him, but he put on an unconscious facade that even the imperial physician couldn’t see through, believing him to be still recovering from grave injuries, unable to wake.

 

“Pretending,” he smiled slightly. “Just a different method.”

 

Some time later, the two stared at the wooden wheelchair that Steward Gu had brought over.

 

“What are you planning to do?” Jiang Kui whispered.

 

Xie Wuyang rubbed his chin in contemplation. After thinking for a spell, he grabbed a fur blanket and neatly arranged it on the wheelchair before settling down into the seat. He placed another cashmere blanket over his lap along with a silver brazier warmer, then lifted his head to the girl beside him.

 

“My lady, if you would be so kind as to push me,” he requested amiably, a gentle smile on his face.

 

The soft candlelight enveloped him, accentuating his distinguished and tranquil bearing. He gave a couple of light coughs, smoothing down the blanket on his knees while holding the brazier in both hands – every movement cultured and refined, the very image of a pampered young master recovering from a major illness.

 

“You’re really quite skilled at pretending to be sick,” she scoffed under her breath.

 

“Mm, quite adept indeed,” he chuckled softly.

 

That night, word spread from the Eastern Palace that the Crown Prince, who had been unconscious for days after sustaining injury from his plunge into the waters, was finally showing signs of awakening.

 

Jiang Kui pushed Xie Wuyang to visit the Emperor first in the Taiji Palace, then called upon the officials and friends who hurried over to see him. Seated in the wheelchair, Xie Wuyang remained mild-mannered throughout, occasionally smiling and nodding, sometimes leaning forward slightly, sometimes turning back to exchange hushed words with his wife. None of the probing guests could ascertain the true condition behind his “grave wounds”, while the respectful officials were outraged over the assassination attempt on his life.

 

Even Qi King Xie Yao came with Qi Queen Pei Yue, both couples subtly presenting a harmonious front. Xie Yao inquired solicitously about his royal brother’s health on the surface while privately gauging his state. These days, he had been under no small amount of pressure, keeping constant watch on any movements from the Eastern Palace.

 

With everything settled as night deepened, Jiang Kui supported Xie Wuyang onto the carriage where they sat facing each other in the cabin. The carriage wheels turned, conveying them to Virtuous Consort’s Cheng’an Hall. Snow fluttered down outside throughout the ride, the shadows of trees mottled.

 

Xie Wuyang gave a soft yawn, somewhat wearily leaning against the cabin wall as he gazed out at the snowy scene in the window. Jiang Kui studied him for a while, noticing traces of fatigue in his expression – likely a little worn out after a night of socializing.

 

“Is this your first time sitting in a wheelchair?” she asked quietly. “You don’t look very used to it.”

 

“First time,” he murmured back. “Never had to use this prop when pretending to be sick before.”

 

He laughed softly. “But I rather like it. No need to even walk, with my lady pushing me along.”

 

“So lazy,” she critiqued.

 

He just smiled and casually leaned back, eyes closed. “All thanks to my lady’s efforts.”

 

She watched him furtively. Relaxed now, he had shed his disguise, nonchalantly reclining by the window with one arm propped up.

 

The wind scattered falling stars like rain, brushing past his eyes and brows. He emanated an air of casual elegance, his refined features only accentuating the impression – as if an immortal exiled amongst the mundane world for too much indulgence in its wine and song.

 

The reason for his banishment must be causing problems while drunk, she mused with a secret smile.

 

The young girl gave a quiet, melodic laugh, clear and bright like the sound of jade chimes.

 

“Hm?” Catching it, he asked, “What are you thinking about?”

 

“Do you know there’s a common saying among the populace that all the emperor’s sons are immortals who descended to earth?” she explained. “I was thinking you seem like the sort of foolish little immortal who gets drunk on a single sip of wine, accidentally stumbling down into the mortal realm by mistake.”

 

“I wouldn’t get drunk so easily,” he denied lazily without even opening his eyes. “I have quite the alcohol tolerance, not that you’ve seen it.”

 

After a brief pause, he added, “Anyway, even if I did fall down here by accident, it would be deliberate.”

 

“Because I truly like it here in this human world,” he finished with a faint smile.

 

“It doesn’t sound stupid at all,” she shook her head.

 

Meeting his eyes solemnly, she stated, “Me too.”

 

“Worthy of my lady,” he chuckled. “Two fools coming together.”

 

She gave a dissenting huff before asking, “So you and Ruohuan plan to…”

 

“Well, my lady,” he explained, “on the surface, court politics may seem filled with sinister schemes, but there are really only two main methods. The first being ‘words’ – submitting memorials, court discussions, imperial audiences, swaying the emperor’s heart. As for the second…”

 

He halted for a spell.

 

“Killing.”

 

She was slightly shocked. “So you plan to…”

 

“Mm,” he nodded. “Long prepared, taking action by year’s end.”

 

“We needed more time, originally,” he added softly. “But my time grows short.”

 

It was an extremely covert scheme, yet he held nothing back from her. Reflexively, she drew the carriage curtains shut. He smiled at her actions, “Don’t worry, I’m keeping watch. There’s no one on this path. The coachman can also be trusted.”

 

“You sure are gutsy,” she murmured.

 

“The way of court is like this,” he said quietly. “Simple yet cruel.”

 

He raised his eyes to hers. “In telling you this, I’m also asking for your assistance, my lady.”

 

“I understand,” she inclined her head. “You’ll have my full support.”

 

“It’s a deal then,” she stated.

 

Snow continued drifting down outside the curtains. Inside, the candle flames swayed gently. She leaned towards him, raising a hand between them. He tapped it lightly in response. The soft clap echoed in the cabin as their eyes subtly shifted.

 

“Much appreciated,” he gave a low chuckle. “I feel as though you’re a little celestial envoy sent just for me.”

 

“What do you mean?” She paused, caught off guard.

 

“It’s like you’re a little fairy the heavens specially dispatched down,” he explained with a faint laugh. “In this lifetime, having met you – I must have enjoyed divine favor.”

 

“Kang,” he switched to an intimate address. “I’m honored beyond words.”

 

In this instant, the world turned pure white, soundless amidst the drifting snow. His gaze rested on her, seemingly weighing as heavily as a mountain yet flowing by her like water, lingering for but a fleeting moment before vanishing without a trace.

 

He veiled his eyes once more, smiling gently though the expression soon faded back into silent tranquility.

 

“Xie Kang,” she called his name.

 

“My lady,” he gave her a rueful smile and shake of his head. “Pay it no mind…I must be too tired, speaking nonsense.”

 

He closed his eyes briefly, massaging his brow before brushing the curtain aside to peer out. “We’ve arrived. We’ll walk the last stretch to her…it’s late, the Empress Dowager dislikes disturbances from carriages and horses.”

 

Jiang Kui helped Xie Wuyang down from the carriage. Still seated in the wheelchair, he appeared rather worn out, head slightly bowed and eyes half-lidded in drowsiness. A few stray snowflakes clung to his lashes, faintly glimmering.

 

Silence reigned in the Virtuous Consort’s Cheng’an Hall, long corridors lit by incense offerings to the Buddha.

 

Following a palace maid, the two entered an annex hall. An elegant, mature consort knelt on a cushion facing a carved jade Buddha image, praying devoutly with a rosary clasped between her palms.

 

Hearing their approach, she glanced back to see Xie Wuyang seated in the wheelchair. With a faint smile, she remarked, “Wuyan, pretending to be sick again, this child?”

 

“Honored Mother,” Xie Wuyang performed the greeting rite with Jiang Kui.

 

Promptly abandoning the wheelchair, he went to help the woman kneeling before Buddha up to a nearby couch. “This is General Jiang’s youngest daughter.”

 

The Virtuous Consort looked Jiang Kui over. “I’ve seen you a few times before. What a graceful young lady you’ve grown into.”

 

She took Jiang Kui’s hand fondly. “My health is poor. I spend my days praying to Buddha, rarely leaving my palace. Thus we haven’t had much chance to meet.”

 

“There is little that resembles your mother about you. Except for the eyes.”

 

“Many say the same,” Jiang Kui smiled.

 

“Come sit, no need to stand on ceremony,” the Virtuous Consort patted the space beside her, shooting Xie Wuyang a look. “It’s late, yet you’re still on your feet?”

 

Xie Wuyang gave a helpless laugh. “Respected Mother, my constitution is not that weak.”

 

“My daily prayers must be taking some effect after all, for you to remain safe.” The Virtuous Consort mused. “Today is your birthday. Did you receive my gift of a carved ruyi sent to the Eastern Palace?”

 

“I did. You have my thanks, Respected Mother,” Xie Wuyang inclined his head.

 

The two juniors took their seats on either side of her. Clasping both their hands, the Virtuous Consort shut her eyes briefly before asking softly, “Wuyan, this will be your last birthday…is that so?”

 

“Yes,” Xie Wuyang lowered his gaze with a silent laugh. “But all is well. I’ve lived quite happily.”

 

“If you’ve sought me out tonight, there must be something you request of me,” the Virtuous Consort contemplated the rosary threads entwined through her fingers.

 

Xie Wuyang nodded. “I ask for Respected Mother’s assistance.”

 

“Choosing this particular day, so I would find it harder to refuse you,” she sighed. “Child, you know me too well.”

 

He rose to bow deeply before her. “With death looming before me, I have but a single wish to ask of Respected Mother.”

 

In a low tone, he confessed, “My birth mother…was poisoned by Consort Xian.”

 

The Virtuous Consort exhaled. “I had suspected as much…back then, many thought it was me.”

 

“My son, do you harbor hatred still?” she asked softly.

 

Xie Wuyang shook his head. “I’ve long ceased hating. Merely reached a conclusion, for closure’s sake.”

 

“As have I,” murmured the Virtuous Consort. “Saw through it all, found acceptance long ago.”

 

“Honored Mother,” Xie Wuyang bowed once more. “I am one condemned to die…only wishing to accomplish one thing before my end. Thus I beseech your aid.”

 

The Virtuous Consort studied him. “You plan to oppose your royal brother.”

 

“It is not my wish,” he stated quietly. “But he has sided with the Northern Command.”

 

“Court politics confound me,” she gave a rueful chuckle with a shake of her head. “But since you’ve come to ask this of me today – as your mother, I suppose I must acquiesce.”

 

“Profound thanks, Honored Mother,” Xie Wuyang bent down in another lengthy bow until gently brought back upright.

 

“Go and rest,” she urged wearily. “I’ve overseen your upbringing all these years. Naturally I can tell you’ve been forcing yourself.”

 

“You go on ahead first,” the Virtuous Consort added. “I’ve some words for your wife here.”

 

Xie Wuyang thanked her and wheeled out his chair, leaving Jiang Kui alone with the Virtuous Consort in the dimly-lit chamber.

 

Candle flames illuminated the serene visage of the petite jade Buddha enshrined in the altar. A wispy thread of soothing incense infused the hall, mingling with the low crackling fires. Warm and tranquil.

 

“Little Man,” the Virtuous Consort clasped Jiang Kui’s hand. “You understand the full truth behind that child’s circumstances, do you not?”

 

“I do,” Jiang Kui gave a slight nod. “He remains unaware that I know more than he realizes.”

 

“Including how his chronic illness actually stems from an old sword wound?” the Virtuous Consort queried.

 

“Yes. I’ve been working on healing him… I wish to keep him by my side,” Jiang Kui responded quietly.

 

“One glimpse of your eyes tells me so.” The Virtuous Consort sighed softly. “I raised Wuyan myself. He knows well how to treat others, grasp their emotions. Yet remains oblivious regarding a woman’s affections. No doubt dense when it comes to you.”

 

“Mm. Foolish as can be,” Jiang Kui managed a tiny smile.

 

“He cares deeply for you. I can see it,” the Virtuous Consort gently clasped her hand. “He does his utmost to treat you well, believing you none the wiser…afraid that you would grieve over his plight if aware.”

 

Jiang Kui nodded in understanding. “I know that’s how he thinks.”

 

“There is a certain matter, one I should not be the one to divulge. Yet if I do not speak of it, he is determined to keep it from you forevermore.”

 

The Virtuous Consort paused before lowering her voice. “Are you aware that the old scars he bears have been on his body since birth…?”

 

Jiang Kui inclined her head.

 

The Virtuous Consort caressed the beads slipping through her fingers. “That child’s birth mother…”

 

“Committed suicide.”

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