A group of five rode in two carriages.
Eunuch Hong occupied one, while Ling Ting and Liu Yuanxun shared the other.
The young eunuch handling the reins was highly skilled. Even amid the bustling market crowds, he kept everything orderly, maintaining a steady pace throughout.
Ling Ting hadn’t laid eyes on Liu Yuanxun all morning. Now, glancing at him, he couldn’t help but express surprise. “Master, your spirits look much improved.”
Liu Yuanxun did indeed feel better. But the thought of entering the palace to face the emperor soon drained the color from his face once more.
He and the current sovereign had grown up together since childhood. Back then, they had been inseparable—the closest of brothers in the world. Yet imperial family affairs were tangled webs of resentment and obligation, impossible to sort into right and wrong. Everyone caught in the midst was both victim and beneficiary. No one emerged innocent.
Many times, Liu Yuanxun felt the emperor of today was no longer the imperial brother of old. That man now stood at the pinnacle, surrounded by fawning ministers, exalted and remote, a distant figure. Yet at other moments, he seemed utterly unchanged—still falling for Liu Yuanxun’s tricks, still letting himself be provoked, still led around by the nose.
These days, Liu Yuanxun no longer wrestled with questions of right and wrong. He simply wanted to steer clear of the emperor and all those tiresome entanglements.
Letting out a soft breath, Liu Yuanxun lifted the carriage curtain and peered at the scenery outside. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of the grand, imposing gates of the Purple Forbidden City.
The palace gates drew near. Soon, he would see his imperial brother again.
He had no idea why the emperor had summoned him, but Liu Yuanxun had a plan. He would use this audience to settle the matter of Gu Lianzhao once and for all.
The emperor’s oral decree was irrevocable. Gu Lianzhao was destined to belong to Prince Rui’s Mansion. But Liu Yuanxun could fight for something else on his behalf—preserving his chastity, perhaps, or securing a swift path to promotion.
…
Liu Yuanxun’s frail health granted him the late emperor’s special privilege of entering the palace by palanquin. Eunuch Hong and Ling Ting helped him from the carriage and into a soft sedan. A swarm of young eunuchs surrounded them, creating quite the spectacle.
The palanquin bore him all the way to the Upper Study. Liu Yuanxun drew a deep breath. Accompanied by Eunuch Hong, he stepped into the Imperial Study.
The room retained the late emperor’s original layout: two screens divided it into three sections. Eunuch Hong halted at the first screen, watching as Liu Yuanxun proceeded deeper inside.
Sandalwood incense filled the hall, its rich, mellow scent refreshing rather than cloying, sharpening the mind.
Liu Yuanxun swept his robes aside and knelt, placing his hands before his forehead in a proper kowtow. “This subject-brother pays respects to Your Majesty.”
Liu Yuanze stood before a bookshelf, one hand clasped behind his back, facing away from Liu Yuanxun. He gave no sign of turning, even at the sound of the kneel and greeting behind him.
Silence stretched on until Liu Yuanxun’s knees began to ache. Then that familiar, long-absent voice finally spoke: “Rise.”
Liu Yuanxun stood and discreetly lifted his gaze toward the imperial seat.
Liu Yuanze did not turn. Still facing away, he asked, “How go the preparations for the sacrificial rites?”
Liu Yuanxun replied, “This subject-brother has reviewed all arrangements. Nothing is amiss. The rites should proceed without issue.”
“Mm.” Liu Yuanze acknowledged him faintly and fell silent.
The emperor could afford silence, but Liu Yuanxun could not let the air grow stagnant. His health kept him from court since early on; without regular audiences, and as a prince residing outside the palace now counted among outer officials, he could enter only when summoned. Even for him, such meetings were rare.
He could not waste this chance. Kneeling once more, he said, “Your Majesty, this subject-brother has a request.”
“Speak.”
“This subject-brother and Gu Lianzhao have not yet consummated the marriage. Might Your Majesty revoke the decree and restore his freedom?”
The emperor’s tone remained even, betraying no emotion. He uttered just two words: “Impossible.”
Liu Yuanxun had expected as much. Seizing the moment, he pressed another plea. “Gu Lianzhao holds Fourth-Rank office. Stripping it over a marriage risks unsettling the female officials at court. This subject-brother believes… if the wedding cannot be undone, at least his position should be restored…”
“You’re waving quite the banner to plead his case,” Liu Yuanze scoffed. He finally turned, revealing a face that shared three points of resemblance with Liu Yuanxun’s—though where his brother appeared mild and harmless, Liu Yuanze exuded stern dignity and imperial poise.
Any ordinary man would scramble to protest innocence at such words, but Liu Yuanxun merely replied, “This subject-brother dares not.”
The emperor let it pass, merely lowering his gaze over him. “Restoring his office is simple enough. Once he bears your bloodline, the Embroidered Uniform Guard commander’s seat isn’t out of reach either.”
Liu Yuanxun’s brow twitched. He clenched his fist despite himself but quickly realized every move fell under Liu Yuanze’s watchful eye. Releasing it, he said coolly, “This subject-brother is frail and deficient in yang essence. I fear I cannot succeed.”
The words all but announced his impotence outright.
Liu Yuanze had anticipated resistance, but not this brazen claim. He gritted his teeth, holding back as long as he could before finally snatching a memorial from the desk and hurling it at him. “Nonsense!”
Liu Yuanxun instinctively raised his sleeve to block. The folder struck his arm, and only then did he register that it was the emperor himself. He should not dodge…
But the emperor said nothing of the evasion, though anger plainly colored his face.
Liu Yuanxun pressed on. “This subject-brother speaks no lies. A true man takes a wife to shoulder responsibility. If he cannot promise her a future, why ruin her life?”
Liu Yuanze closed his eyes briefly, forcing down his ire. “You needn’t promise him a lifetime. Yang deficiency has its cures—the Imperial Hospital’s physicians aren’t there to idle. They can get you fathering a child.”
Liu Yuanxun sidestepped the point. “Yet this bears no relation to Gu Lianzhao’s position. Why deny its restoration?”
Liu Yuanze’s patience frayed at his brother’s unyielding stance. He barked in fury, “Are you blind? Present the memorial!”
The command offered a face-saving out, but Liu Yuanxun ignored it, head bowed in stubborn pursuit. “When will Gu Lianzhao’s position be restored?”
Liu Yuanze nearly laughed from sheer exasperation. In such matters, a bit of deference while handing over the folder, a few soft words or pleas—Liu Yuanze might well have granted it. But to kneel there rigidly, strong-arming like some thug? As emperor, how could he yield to that?
“If you insist on kneeling, do it outside. The corridor breeze will clear your head! Hong Fu!”
From beyond the screens, Eunuch Hong inwardly cursed his luck but hurried over on swift feet. “This slave is here.”
Liu Yuanze glared at Liu Yuanxun, forcing the words through clenched teeth. “Watch Seventh Lord closely. Call him back when he sees sense!”
“Oh dear! Seventh Lord, what are you…” Hong Fu shuffled on his knees to Liu Yuanxun’s side, tugging insistently at his sleeve. “Just yield a little. Why provoke His Majesty’s temper like this? Say something, won’t you?”
Hong Fu knew better than to act on his own. Having served the emperor for years, he understood the summons perfectly. A true punishment would mean dismissal with a scolding—no need to drag him in to supervise. This was punishment laced with reluctance, anger swallowed but unvented, waiting for a servant like him to provide the stairs down.
Under normal circumstances, Liu Yuanxun might have flung his sleeve and marched out to kneel on the veranda—better yet, drop dead there and fulfill Liu Yuanze’s wishes.
The emperor provoked his temper easily, and he in turn riled the emperor. Punishments bred resentment; he would seethe inwardly, half-wishing to spite him with his death. But thinking of innocent Gu Lianzhao dragged into this, he knew now was no time for petulance.
At Hong Fu’s urging, Liu Yuanxun bowed his head, gathered the scattered pages before him, rose, and delivered the memorial to the imperial desk.
Liu Yuanze snorted coldly and took his seat with a flick of his sleeve, dropping any mention of outdoor kneeling. Hong Fu, smug at reading the sovereign’s mind correctly, sidled out along the wall.
Liu Yuanze opened the folder and took up his brush. Without a word, Liu Yuanxun fetched the vermilion ink and began grinding it for him.
For a moment, the brothers slipped back in time.
Back then, Crown Prince Liu Yuanze had studied state affairs at the late emperor’s side, while Liu Yuanxun ground ink nearby, occasionally peeking at his writing.
Such intimate gestures far exceeded the bounds of sovereign and subject—like ordinary brothers in a humble home, free of strife and self-interest. Liu Yuanxun had gloated then: who said imperial families lacked true brotherhood? He and his imperial brother proved the exception.
Who could have guessed those harmonious memories were all Liu Yuanze’s calculated endurance, a performance of tolerance?
After batching through several memorials, the tense air had eased. Liu Yuanze closed the folder, his tone far calmer. “What farce are you staging now?”
“This subject-brother stages no farce.” Liu Yuanxun exhaled the stale breath from his chest and asked earnestly, “I hold no affection for him. Why demand his body—and a child from mine? If it’s bloodline you seek, Third Brother may be confined, but he has sired plenty. Adopt one; it’s imperial blood either way.”
Liu Yuanze itched to hurl another memorial.
This time, though, he restrained himself.
He countered, “How do you know Gu Lianzhao objects?”
How could he not? On their wedding night, absent the drug and bindings, Liu Yuanxun had no doubt Gu Lianzhao would have taken a blade to him.
Even if Gu Lianzhao consented, he did not. He was no beast, compelled to mate at maturity.
Liu Yuanze continued without pause. “Gu Jiu’s superior once called him a creature driven by profit alone. Let him learn pregnancy earns him the Embroidered Uniform Guard commander’s seat, and he’d have crawled into your bed that very night, shamelessly seducing you. I won’t have you treated as a tool, so I withheld the incentive upfront—hoping for genuine feeling between you. If you refuse, next time I summon Gu Jiu himself, not you.”
Liu Yuanxun frowned, retorting on instinct. “He’s not that sort of person.”
“What sort?” Liu Yuanze chuckled. “A few days with him, and you’re bewitched? Do you grasp how much blood stains his hands? How many he’s killed? Climbing to that rank at eighteen—what does that tell you?”
“So what? You know his tally of kills and still wed him to me. To what end? You know his methods are brutal, drenched in gore, yet insist on my bloodline in him. Why? Because Father Emperor named me the ‘Auspicious Person’—you can’t bear my purity, so you send him to defile…”
“Slap!”
A resounding slap struck Liu Yuanxun’s face with tremendous force. He toppled to the ground at once, and the overturned inkstone came crashing down, splattering his robes with the prepared vermilion ink.
Anger and disappointment churned within Liu Yuanze’s heart, his emotions boiling over to their utmost intensity. Yet his face grew eerily calm.
He gathered up the vermilion-marked memorials, flicked his sleeve, and rose to his feet. In a flat voice, he said, “Zhen has nothing left to say to you. Go visit your Consort Mother. It’s been so long since you’ve seen her; she must miss you terribly. As for Gu Jiu… heh. If you’re unwilling, then let him be. Once you’re dead, at least he’ll bask in some good fortune and climb a little higher.”
Liu Yuanxun struggled to his feet from the floor. He kowtowed toward the direction in which Liu Yuanze was departing and said, “Your Younger Brother thanks the Emperor.”
