That dark guard stood ramrod straight at the doorway, his face without any expression. Moonlight draped over his body, making his entire person look just like a cold sculpture.
Xie Wenzhao knew that tonight, he would definitely no longer be able to see Meng Fu even once.
The sound of the zither in the courtyard had never stopped. The melody was cheerful — closing one’s eyes, it was as if one could see babbling spring water sparkling under the sunlight, blooming flowers on the riverbank, fragrant and pleasant, with countless bees and butterflies frolicking among them.
But Xie Wenzhao couldn’t feel even a trace of joy. He suddenly lowered his head and let out a bitter laugh. Now that he had come to such an end — who could he blame?
He stiffly turned around and walked toward the other end of the long street.
The dark guard stared at Xie Wenzhao’s staggering figure for a while, then decided to carry forward his usual helpful spirit and escort Xie Wenzhao for a bit.
If something were to happen to this Lord Xuanping tonight and he couldn’t get married tomorrow, His Majesty would definitely throw a fit.
Under the dark guard’s considerate escort, Xie Wenzhao finally made it home safely.
The entire Xuanping Marquis Manor was festooned with lanterns and decorations, filled with joyful atmosphere — yet Xie Wenzhao’s heart was a field of dead ashes.
…
The sound of the zither stopped. Meng Fu leaned against Li Yue’s embrace, tilting her head to gaze at the sky.
His Majesty lowered his head to kiss her every once in a while.
Meng Fu gently sighed. When His Majesty leaned down for the seventh time, she raised a hand and pressed it against His Majesty’s chest.
His Majesty’s movements paused. He lowered his gaze and said in a tone full of grievance: “A’Fu, have you gotten tired of me?”
Meng Fu actually only wanted to look at the stars for a while, but upon hearing His Majesty say that, she simply turned her gaze to his face and said to him: “There is a bit of that, yes.”
“Looks like I need to come up with some new tricks.” Li Yue picked Meng Fu up and placed her on his lap in one swift motion. Meng Fu was already used to being carried around like this by His Majesty. The ornamental hairpin atop her head jingled with a crisp sound as His Majesty moved, shining brilliantly under the lamplight.
She lay against Li Yue’s chest, shifting slightly to the side. She softly said: “Your Majesty, you seem to be…”
As Xie Wenzhao’s wedding day drew near, His Majesty’s internal fire also grew increasingly vigorous.
“Not allowed to say.” Li Yue lowered his head, reached out to extinguish the nearest lamp, then untied the cloak on Meng Fu’s body and draped it over the two of their heads. After that, he opened his mouth and took hers in a kiss, prying open her teeth and going deep inside.
Qingping was still inside the house, no one knew when she might come out. The dark guards hid in the shadows, so silent it was as if they didn’t exist.
In this thick darkness, all sounds became infinitely magnified — the increasingly rapid, trembling breaths, the rustling sound of clothes brushing together, and the wet, indistinct noises of lips and tongues intertwining — all of it pushed the atmosphere between the two into an even more ambiguous heat.
Meng Fu clutched tightly at Li Yue’s lapels — His Majesty must be feeling even more unbearable now.
His Majesty’s kissing skills were becoming more and more proficient, but he also wanted to train himself in other aspects.
A long time later, Li Yue let go of her. The cloak on their heads slipped and fell to the ground. Meng Fu’s breathing still hadn’t completely calmed. She leaned against Li Yue’s chest and said to him: “Just now, I actually wanted to say — Your Majesty, you seem to still not have changed your clothes.”
Meng Fu was wearing a white dress again today. After all that, it must have gotten quite a bit of dust on it. But the nearby lamp had already been extinguished by His Majesty, so it wasn’t clear what it looked like now.
Li Yue sighed heavily in mock seriousness and said: “Then what to do? How about I take off my clothes right now?”
Meng Fu got up from His Majesty’s body and sat down on the small stool beside him. Propping her chin with one hand, she said to Li Yue: “Then you go ahead and take them off.”
In the end, not only did His Majesty not take off his shirt, he even straightened his collar and righteously refused Meng Fu, saying: “We haven’t even had the grand wedding yet. I can’t let you take advantage of me.”
Meng Fu raised her brows. She stood up and walked to His Majesty’s side, lowered her head and said to him: “Go into the room and change your clothes. In a bit, we’ll need to go back.”
His Majesty was acting with full immersion and still hadn’t come out of his role. He turned his head to the side, a posture of “would rather die than comply”: “No!”
Meng Fu bent down, her face carrying a faint smile, eyes like stars, her voice so light it seemed a breeze could scatter it. She said: “Your Majesty, then how about I let you take advantage of me?”
Just moments ago, the emperor who “would rather die than comply” suddenly jumped up from the lounge chair and followed the lady into the room — to mutually take advantage of each other.
Meng Fu didn’t know whether the lovers of this world were all like this — once they clung together, it became hard to part, as if they wanted to melt into the other’s body.
Meanwhile, in another room, Qingping was still standing in front of the shelf, tidying the books scattered across the table for Meng Fu.
Actually, there weren’t many books left, but Qingping was somewhat distracted, so even now she hadn’t finished.
From the moment she learned of Li Yue’s identity, her brain had stopped functioning, and even now hadn’t completely returned to normal.
Back when she thought her young lady was with some steward, she was not at all pleased.
She had made Li Yue repair cabinets, ordered him to carry water, even warned him not to let their young lady down — otherwise, she would make him pay…
What had the emperor thought when he heard her saying those things?
She, a little maidservant, actually dared to say she’d make the current emperor “look bad”!
In an instant, Qingping was so embarrassed she didn’t know where to place her hands and feet. She didn’t want to go out and see people anymore — especially not the emperor.
Scene after scene from the past replayed in her mind. Qingping couldn’t help but lift her hand and touch her own chilly neck — turns out her head was still attached to her neck.
She really must have ancestral virtue to thank. She silently vowed to burn extra paper offerings for her ancestors during Qingming this year.
She still couldn’t believe it — that person actually turned out to be the emperor! The one who held a little hammer in the warehouse repairing hoes, was the emperor!
Why was he so convincing at pretending to be a little steward!
Li Yue transformed from a steward into the most honored emperor in the world — it was practically something that only happened in legendary tales.
Qingping, of course, understood that whether a man was good or not couldn’t only be judged by status, but status definitely added a lot of points.
Back when she thought Li Yue was just a steward, Qingping felt it was only right for him to do those things for the young lady.
Now knowing he was the emperor — thinking back on all that, it felt completely different.
For him to set aside his status and do all that for the young lady, he must really, really like her.
But this person was still the emperor after all — emperors have harems, don’t they?
Would the young lady be willing to accept that?
Qingping’s heart was both joyful and worried, all kinds of emotions tangled together, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to do.
—
Moonlight hazed gently, flower fragrance drifted — Meng Fu, for the first time, helped Li Yue “by hand.”
His Majesty wore a thoroughly satisfied look and lay on the bed unwilling to get up.
He was urged several times by Meng Fu before he tidied himself and changed clothes to return to the palace.
Meng Fu washed her hands, changed into a clean outfit, and came to the study.
Seeing Qingping standing before the bookshelf deep in thought, she called out to her.
Qingping came back to herself, turned her head, and cautiously asked Meng Fu: “Miss, is he really the emperor?”
Meng Fu made a soft “mm” sound and comforted her, saying: “Don’t worry. He didn’t mean anything by it — he just wanted to tease you.”
To be teased by the emperor — it even sounded like quite an honor.
So much time had passed, and Qingping had calmed down a lot.
She thought for a moment, then hesitantly asked: “Then, Miss, will you enter the palace in the future?”
Meng Fu nodded. She asked Qingping: “Qingping, in the future do you want to follow me into the palace, or stay outside?”
If Qingping entered the palace with her, then in the future — as a palace lady by the empress’s side —
whether she wanted to get married, or do anything else, it would all be easier.
If Qingping didn’t want to follow her anymore, Meng Fu planned to leave this residence to her.
Qingping said without thinking, “This servant naturally wants to follow Miss.”
“I understand.” Meng Fu reached out and took a book from the bookshelf. She had originally planned to write two essays tonight, but after just now, her hand was a little sore, so she simply decided to leave it for tomorrow.
Qingping lit two more lamps for her, placing them on the table. She stood to the side, hesitating for a while, then still couldn’t help but call out, “Miss…”
Meng Fu flipped to the next page of the book and looked up to ask her, “Is there something else?”
“…No,” Qingping shook her head. She could tell that Miss truly and sincerely liked His Majesty. Whatever worries she could think of, Miss had surely thought of already. Miss must have already made up her mind, so there was no need for her to bring it up again. She pointed to the shelves behind and asked Meng Fu, “Do you think these books arranged like this are alright?”
Meng Fu smiled and said, “They’re great.”
On the sixth day of the second lunar month, the weather was clear and fine, without wind or rain. The willow trees by the roadside had sprouted many small buds, and from afar, they looked like a strip of pale yellow plain gauze.
This day was a good day chosen based on the matched Eight Characters [八字, bāzì, the birth time used in Chinese astrology] of the Xie and Meng families, for the wedding of Xie Wenzhao and Meng Yu.
After returning home yesterday, Xie Wenzhao had lain in bed all night without sleeping. When the young servant came to wake him in the morning, he felt no drowsiness at all. In a daze, he even felt as if his soul had already flown out of his body, leaving behind only this shell of a body for others to manipulate at will.
From beginning to end, all he had ever wanted was to find a kindred spirit, and to live out a lifetime in harmony and happiness.
That zither melody he had once heard in the rain in Xuzhou had become his obsession. Yet at the time, he didn’t even know whether the person playing the instrument was male or female, young or old. It was Meng Yu’s appearance that made him place that obsession onto her. But this had always been a complete and utter lie.
Now, he couldn’t even tell what exactly he regretted, or what he was angry about.
Was it that the pure love he thought he had shattered completely?
Or was it that the one who could truly play out the voice of his heart had been constantly neglected by him?
Or was it that he realized how foolish and laughable he himself was?
All he had ever sought was a kindred spirit—why had things turned out this way? How could Meng Yu bear to do this?
Again and again, she had deceived him. In her heart, had there ever been even a shred of guilt?
Xie Wenzhao was like a walking corpse, letting the servants change him into a bright red wedding robe, help him onto the horse, and take him through one long street after another.
With drums beating and flutes playing, full of festive bustle—whether genuine or not—all the people in the wedding procession wore beaming smiles. Only the groom sat on the horse full of sorrow and gloom, not looking like someone going to a wedding, but rather like someone going to a funeral.
When they arrived at the Meng residence and saw Meng Yu in her wedding dress, her head covered with a red veil, Xie Wenzhao suddenly felt his eyes heat up for some reason. A final trace of hope rose in his heart. He deluded himself, thinking—perhaps it was really his ears that had the problem. Since Meng Fu could play, His Majesty could play—maybe Meng Yu could as well.
He walked to Meng Yu’s side and softly said to her, “Tonight, play the zither for me to hear.”
Meng Yu’s steps paused slightly. She spoke softly: “Have you forgotten? I swore never to play the zither again. Do you want me to die young in my next life?”