Li Yue lowered his head and said to Meng Fu, who was in his arms: “Qingping said she wants to open up another vegetable garden at the back. I’ll go to the storage to fix the tools, I’ll be back in a while.”
Meng Fu looked up at him and said: “I’ll go with you, just right to help hold the lamp for you.”
Li Yue raised his hand and stroked her cheek, and said to her: “No need, it’s full of dust inside, the moment you enter you’ll start coughing.”
Meng Fu nodded: “Alright then, you go quickly.”
Li Yue hugged her a little tighter and smilingly asked her: “What’s wrong? Is it that you start missing me the moment you don’t see me?”
“Yes.” Meng Fu directly admitted it. She curved her lips, and her eyes seemed to hold a bay of spring water, under the bright moonlight, ripples stirred circle after circle.
After she finished speaking, she turned her face to the side, her lips brushed against Li Yue’s palm, and gently pecked it.
Li Yue’s gaze slightly darkened, like a beast that had not eaten for several days—carefully counting, it should be nearly five months now. This could be blamed on Xie Wenzhao—if he had moved faster, he wouldn’t have had to wait this long.
He lowered his head and kissed the corner of Meng Fu’s lips, feeling it wasn’t enough, kissed her again heavily.
“You now only know how to bully me.” His Majesty said a little aggrievedly.
Meng Fu tilted her head, innocent: “Where did I?”
“Let’s talk again after our grand wedding.” Li Yue lightly pinched her cheek, then got up and walked toward the storage room.
The most noble Emperor under heaven now was going to the storage to repair a hoe.
Snow-white moonlight poured down from the ninth heaven, flowing into the courtyard and condensing into a thin layer of frost and snow. The mottled tree shadows swayed with the evening wind, like fish swimming for food beneath the ice layer. The cluster of red plum blossoms at the corner of the wall was almost completely bloomed. Meng Fu withdrew her gaze and continued tuning the remaining two guqin. The sound of the strings came out intermittently—one couldn’t tell what piece was being played.
Just as she stopped her hands, a string of dong dong knocking sounds rang from outside the courtyard door, especially clear in the quiet courtyard.
Who would come here at this time?
Qingping glanced in Meng Fu’s direction. Seeing Meng Fu nod, she jogged to the door, opened it, and then saw Xie Wenzhao standing outside. Qingping froze—she never thought that the Marquis of Xuanping would come here at this hour.
Seeing Qingping frozen in place without moving for a long time, Meng Fu called out: “Qingping, who is outside?”
“It’s…” Qingping turned back, brows faintly furrowed, somewhat conflicted, as if not knowing how to say it.
“It’s me.” Xie Wenzhao stepped over the threshold, passed Qingping, and walked in from outside. The shadow of the wall that covered him gradually faded away as he walked under the bright moonlight.
Xie Wenzhao?
Meng Fu stood up and asked him: “Why are you here?”
“I…” Xie Wenzhao had come here in a moment of impulse. Now that he saw Meng Fu, it was like a bucket of cold water poured over his head. He suddenly sobered up. They were already divorced. He actually shouldn’t be coming to see her again.
But since he was already here, he couldn’t just say nothing and turn around to leave, right? Otherwise, Meng Fu might think something’s wrong with his head.
He hesitated at the spot for a long time, and finally squeezed out a sentence: “I’m getting married tomorrow.”
As soon as Xie Wenzhao said it, he regretted it. Why say this to Meng Fu? She’d probably feel even worse after hearing it.
But Meng Fu had long known about this. Not only did she not feel bad, she was actually quite happy about it. After all, His Majesty had been looking forward to Xie Wenzhao marrying for a long time now.
But Xie Wenzhao came all this way just to tell her this? What kind of problem is this? Did he learn it from Meng Yu?
“Let’s not talk about this.” Xie Wenzhao lowered his head, not quite daring to meet Meng Fu’s eyes. He asked, “Are you living well now?”
Meng Fu did not answer Xie Wenzhao’s question and instead asked in return: “Xie Wenzhao, what exactly did you come here for today?”
Xie Wenzhao was silent for a long time. He hadn’t figured it out even when he was at the marquis’ residence, and now that he had come here, his mind seemed even more in a mess. He was about to marry the one he loved, and he didn’t want Meng Fu to live poorly in the future—otherwise he’d feel guilty for a lifetime. He thought about it, couldn’t help but speak again: “I heard from A’Yu that… you also have someone you like now?”
Meng Fu: “……”
She somewhat understood now why Xie Wenzhao had come over today. This person—he was often indecisive, soft on the outside and soft-hearted, with an excess of sympathy. Most likely, he was here to soothe the bit of guilt in his heart.
Xie Wenzhao paused, and then said again: “I don’t mean anything else, it’s just that we were husband and wife once, and in the past few years it was me who wronged you. If you’re having any difficulties, I can help.”
The evening breeze brushed past, tree shadows swayed. The new moon in the night sky hid behind the clouds, leaving only a small sliver of light. Several lamps were lit in the courtyard, so the courtyard did not seem overly dim.
Meng Fu said, “No need. I’m doing very well.”
Xie Wenzhao instinctively thought Meng Fu was being stubborn in speech. But when he noticed the bright red he chang she was wearing, he suddenly wasn’t so sure. That he chang was embroidered with large patterns using gold and silver threads, which under the dim lamplight shifted into four or five different hues.
[he chang: a type of long ceremonial cloak with wide sleeves, often worn by nobles or in formal occasions]
His gaze dropped and he saw a few guqins behind Meng Fu. The sky was dark, and he stood far away, unable to see what the guqins were made of—but if she could afford to buy so many and place them in the courtyard, at the very least, Meng Fu was not short of money now.
Knowing that Meng Fu was doing okay, Xie Wenzhao ought to leave.
He sighed and said to Meng Fu: “If you ever run into any difficulties in the future, you can come find me. As long as I can help, I absolutely won’t refuse.”
Just as his words fell, he heard the sound of a door being pushed open from behind. Xie Wenzhao, who had been planning to turn and leave, stopped in place as if possessed—since both Meng Fu and Qingping were in the courtyard, then who was it who made that door-pushing sound?
Li Yue walked out from the storage room holding a small hammer. Qingping stood beneath the eaves and, seeing him coming over, blinked hard, signaling frantically with her eyes, trying to get him to wait until Xie Wenzhao left before coming out.
Although this man treated their young miss well and was also very handsome, his clothing really couldn’t be seen in public. One glance and anyone could tell he wasn’t from a high background. If Xie Wenzhao found out their young miss was with a man like this, who knows what ridicule he might make once he returned. If he really had to appear, he ought to at least change clothes first.
But if one could read Qingping’s eye signals, he wouldn’t be His Majesty.
Li Yue carried the small hammer over, gave Qingping a strange look, and asked her: “Your eye’s cramping? Want me to find a doctor to take a look for you?”
Qingping: “……”
How is this cramping! Why can’t he understand such obvious signals!
Seeing the matter could no longer be concealed, Qingping hoped he could be a bit clever, and not say anything foolish in a moment. She lowered her voice and said: “The Marquis of Xuanping is in the courtyard.”
“Oh?” Li Yue turned and looked toward the center of the courtyard, and sure enough saw Meng Fu and Xie Wenzhao standing there. When Meng Fu saw him coming, she curved her lips into a smile.
Li Yue also smiled, then his gaze fell on Xie Wenzhao.
Xie Wenzhao was going to get married tomorrow. Shouldn’t he be in the marquis’ residence properly preparing to be a groom—what was he doing here?
The sky was dim, and there was some distance between them. Xie Wenzhao only vaguely saw a tall man walking toward them from under the corridor. The man wore a short shirt and held a hammer in his hand—no matter how one looked, he didn’t seem to be from a wealthy family.
For a moment, thoughts surged wildly through Xie Wenzhao’s mind. So late at night, this man could still stay in Meng Fu’s place—what exactly was the relationship between him and Meng Fu?
Previously, when Meng Yu told him that Meng Fu might be with a servant, he had a hard time believing it. Just now, seeing Meng Fu dressed richly, with her complexion even better than before, he thought maybe Meng Yu had seen it wrong.
But now he actually saw such a man—an immense wave of anger surged in Xie Wenzhao’s heart. Calling it anger wasn’t exactly right. It was more like a kind of “hating iron for not becoming steel.”
He said in disappointment: “Meng Fu, could it be that you really—”
Xie Wenzhao’s words got stuck in his throat before they could finish.
Because he saw clearly the man’s face.
In that instant, he was rendered speechless. The rest of the words could no longer be said.
Xie Wenzhao’s pupils locked in place, his facial features twisted uncontrollably, his body seemed struck by lightning, all of it went numb, unable to move anywhere—he could only stiffly stand where he was. The moon had long come out from behind the clouds, and the cold white light cast Xie Wenzhao’s face into a pale mask. His mind, too, was a blank sheet.
After a long time, he finally recovered a bit of clarity, but still felt like he was in a dream.
Could it be that he had taken a nap in Songxuan Hall this afternoon and hadn’t woken up yet—was that why he was seeing the Emperor here?
More importantly—how could His Majesty be dressed like this?
…Was this person really the Emperor?
The moonlight was shallow and clear, flower shadows swayed—Meng Fu turned around and returned to sit in front of the guqin.
Li Yue casually tossed the hammer in his hand into a small bamboo basket to the side. The crisp sound caused Xie Wenzhao to snap out of it a little. The next moment, he heard the Emperor say:
“Xie Wenzhao, where are your manners? Is this how you react upon seeing Zhen?”
With a pu tong, Xie Wenzhao dropped to his knees. He knelt so hard that the ground beneath him seemed to tremble with the motion. He couldn’t care about the pain in his knees—he kowtowed and said:
“Your subject Xie Wenzhao pays respects to the Emperor. Long live the Emperor, long live, long live!”
Qingping had followed Li Yue over, and the shock she felt now was in no way less than what Xie Wenzhao experienced. She stood there dumbly, her eyes round as marbles, her mouth agape—looking completely blank and stunned.