An unintentional rendezvous with a heart stirred by desire

From then on, Zhiwei had to deliver meals to the Hall of Mental Cultivation, manage trivial matters, and help Consort Liu with her pregnancy.

When Liu Meiren was three months pregnant, her pregnancy was considered stable. Emperor Zhu Liji was overjoyed and issued an edict to confer upon her the title of Consort, granting her residence in Yonghua Palace and the title "Ling," which means beautiful and intelligent.

The investiture ceremony was extremely grand. The palace was decorated with lanterns and colorful streamers, and the air was filled with music and singing. Zhu Liji, exceeding the regulations for the investiture of a concubine, personally held the hand of Consort Ling and received the homage of all the officials.

After this battle, news of Consort Ling's pregnancy spread throughout the court and the palace. The emperor had not had an heir for a long time, and Consort Ling's pregnancy came at the right time. For a time, the voices of congratulations to the Liu family from the previous dynasty were endless.

The Yonghua Palace was bustling with activity, and imperial favors flowed in like water. In contrast, Wan Zhen'er remained silent.

As Wan Zhen'er listened to Si Yu's ramblings about the unparalleled prominence of the Yonghua Palace, she yawned lightly and said, "I know what you mean."

Although Siyu is Wan Zhen'er's personal maid, she is also a servant from the Wan family. Now that Consort Ling is favored, the Wan family is using Siyu's words to try to put Wan Zhen'er in a bad light.

Whether this warning was meant to teach her to avoid confrontation or to rouse herself to curry favor, Wan Zhen'er didn't want to think about it too deeply.

Sun Wei is gone, and Cheng Yuzhi is dead. Her obsessions have long since faded, and she only wants to live an easy life. She even wanted to hand over the palace power she was temporarily in charge of to Consort Ling, citing "ill health" as the reason. However, the emperor temporarily put the matter aside, citing "Consort Ling's pregnancy and need for rest."

But that doesn't matter. There aren't many people in the harem anyway. The so-called management of the empress's palace mostly involves chores that can be delegated to servants. As for palace intrigue, since Consort Ling doesn't provoke her, why should she needlessly create trouble and engage in power struggles?

Speaking of sparring, Wan Zhen'er had the rare opportunity to catch a glimpse of the Eldest Princess at the palace banquet a few days ago. After giving birth, Zhu Hua had become increasingly plump, but her taste remained as poor as ever. Her already brightly colored skirts were embroidered with intricate patterns, and even her embroidered shoes were adorned with dazzling pearls.

When Wan Zhen'er saw this outfit, she sincerely thought it was a good thing that Zhu Hua had become a member of the royal family, otherwise, such an outfit would only bring shame to the imperial family.

However, the woman was still as sick as ever. After all these years, when the two met again, Zhu Hua's eyes still carried a hint of coldness, which made Wan Zhen'er feel a chill down her spine.

Believing that people with the surname Zhu all have some abnormal thoughts, Wan Zhen'er didn't want to argue with Zhu Hua anymore. She lazily stretched, turned her head away, and went back to sleep.

The distant gongs and drums continued to resound. On one side, some people slept soundly, oblivious to the commotion and celebration. On the other side, amidst the noise and festivities, another person stood alone in the shadow of a distant pillar, hands behind their back, silently watching the much-discussed emperor and empress.

Zhu Sheng's young brows were furrowed into a deep line, which seemed out of place amidst the jubilation around him.

Zhiwei had just instructed Shaoyang to help the slightly tired Consort Ling back to Yonghua Palace after the investiture ceremony when she caught a glimpse of Zhu Sheng's tall and silent figure standing by a pillar at the end of the corridor.

Zhu Sheng was not wearing the formal attire for the ceremony. He was not invited to the event, but he was not forbidden from attending either. He was only dressed in casual clothes, which were dark in color. He silently followed the direction of the palace gate where Consort Ling's figure disappeared, his eyes as complex as a deep pool soaked in the night.

Zhiwei and Zhusheng had not seen each other for some time. Looking at the Crown Prince, who had been unable to get up since his mother passed away but had grown up rapidly, he was even thinner than she remembered.

Zhiwei followed Zhu Sheng's gaze and happened to see Consort Ling lowering her head and touching her lower abdomen. She had her back to him, her face turned to the side and she was smiling. Her back view was very similar to that of Cheng Yuzhi in the past.

My heart felt as if it had been subtly pricked by a thorn, and Zhiwei instantly understood.

In this deep palace, Zhu Sheng, having lost his loved ones, was utterly alone. Today, Consort Ling was conferred her title, and her palace attire, far exceeding the regulations for a consort, with its floor-length skirt and towering hair, made her silhouette, from afar, somewhat resemble the blurred image of Cheng Yuzhi when she was conferred the title of Empress.

But the woman in that figure was carrying a new life that could potentially threaten Zhu Sheng's position as crown prince. Did Zhu Sheng find solace in his longing for his mother, or was he stung by the painful reality of that threat?

I'm afraid it's a mix of emotions, hard to put into words.

Zhiwei paused slightly, but still moved on and walked over.

"Your Highness," Zhiwei called softly, curtsying in greeting.

Zhu Sheng was pulled back from his distant thoughts, his gaze focusing on Zhiwei. The childishness of his youth had faded, and the lines of his jaw were more defined.

“…Auntie.” Zhu Sheng’s voice was a little hoarse.

The two hadn't met and spoken alone like this in a long time, and a slightly awkward silence filled the air. Zhiwei tried to start a conversation, but her gaze inadvertently fell on the hem of Zhu Sheng's casual robe. Near the knee, a barely noticeable seam had torn, revealing the light-colored lining underneath.

“Your Highness’s clothes…” Zhiwei subconsciously reached out and gently touched the seam with her fingertips. Through the fabric, she could almost feel the boy’s slightly thin leg bones.

Zhiwei looked up and asked with concern, "Why didn't you remember to change your clothes when they were torn? The people in the Eastern Palace are far too negligent."

Zhu Sheng looked down at Zhiwei's movements without looking away.

He saw the genuine concern in Zhiwei's eyes, the familiar warmth of the past, and an indescribable bitterness welled up in his heart. Zhu Sheng suddenly raised his hand, his large palm slightly cool, and gently covered half of Zhiwei's cheek.

Zhiwei froze, then looked up in astonishment.

Zhu Sheng's movements were sudden yet extremely gentle, as if he were touching something to confirm it. Zhiwei could even clearly feel the lines on his slightly calloused palm, and beneath them, a barely perceptible tremor.

Zhu Sheng made no further move, simply covering her with his forehead, leaning slightly forward, and gently pressing his forehead against Zhiwei's forehead.

"After all these years, only Auntie still cares about me so much." At a distance so close that her breath almost caught in her throat, Zhiwei smelled the clear scent of ink and books on Zhu Sheng. She should have turned away immediately, but upon hearing Zhu Sheng's words, she felt inexplicably sad, and her eyes suddenly reddened.

She turned her head away, trying to force a polite smile and say something like, "His Majesty cares about His Highness too," to create some distance, but the words wouldn't come out. She could only nod, her voice slightly choked: "His Highness is a good child, and someone should care about him."

“But there are only a few people I want to care about.” Zhu Sheng reached out and wiped the tears from Zhiwei’s eyes, holding her body, which was even thinner than his own. “Auntie, I will grow up quickly.”

Only in this way can we protect everything we want to keep.

After embracing for a moment, Zhu Sheng looked up first, slowly lowered his hands, and took a half step back.

He paused, his tone resolute, as if making a solemn promise: "Aunt, I guarantee that within three years, you will be able to live the life you want, without having to walk on thin ice and live in fear."

Zhiwei didn't reply, but simply nodded slightly.

The wind was still blowing under the eaves, but she didn't feel so cold anymore—at least in this deep palace, there were still people who remembered her kindness and were willing to give her a promise.

——

Zhu Liji has been feeling lethargic lately.

This decline spread silently. It wasn't a sudden serious illness, but rather that I slept deeper and longer, yet upon waking, instead of feeling refreshed, I felt groggy and lethargic, as if I had never rested.

Even when reviewing memorials, the concentration that used to last for one or two hours can now be lost in less than half an hour, when eyelids feel heavy and thoughts become scattered.

He summoned several imperial physicians and carefully examined his pulse. However, all the physicians stroked their beards, pondered for a long time, and could only come to the same conclusion: "Your Majesty is suffering from a chronic illness and is also burdened by worries about state affairs, which has led to a deficiency of both heart and spleen, and a slight deficiency of qi and blood."

In the end, all I could do was prescribe some formulas to invigorate qi, calm the mind, and harmonize yin and yang, and I was advised to rest and recuperate.

He drank bowl after bowl of herbal medicine, but it was like a stone sinking into the sea, with little improvement.

Zhu Liji was restless, but could not find the reason. This feeling of losing control of his body made the emperor extremely uncomfortable. His life force was slowly draining away from the unseen cracks. He stood at the pinnacle of power, yet he was completely powerless.

Perhaps it was precisely this subtle, uneasy feeling that made the child in Consort Ling's womb seem all the more extraordinary. When he was born Zhu Sheng, his great ambitions were yet to be realized, and all he felt was the joy of becoming a father for the first time. Now that his ambitions were fulfilled, he was beginning to truly have the energy to feel the pulse of a life connected to his own blood.

Watching Consort Ling's increasingly plump figure and the growth of the little life in her womb, Zhu Liji's lingering sense of weariness seemed to dissipate slightly.

The joy of new life is the only barrier against the approach of aging.

Moreover, the woman who bore his bloodline was the one he personally chose and loved dearly.

Thinking of this, Zhu Liji's gaze softened a bit. He used to disdain the romantic stories in novels, but only after experiencing them firsthand did he realize how alluring love is.

A lover he personally nurtured, who was deeply attached to him, a lover whose temperament was completely devoted to him.

How could he not succumb to such sparkling eyes?

This is all that belongs to him, all that is loyal to him.

Thinking of Consort Ling's charming smile, and the nearly five-month-old baby hidden in her growing belly, Zhu Liji couldn't help but soften. He had a eunuch carry the soft, fine cotton baby clothes newly presented by the Imperial Wardrobe, and strolled towards Yonghua Palace.

He wanted to see the fabrics for himself and imagine how they would look on his future child.

Without informing the palace servants, he walked straight into the hall, where he saw Consort Ling leaning against a soft couch, her hand gently stroking her belly, while Zhiwei, with her back to the hall door, was half-squatting in a corner, carefully adjusting the legs of a delicate little rosewood crib, seemingly checking if the parts were stable.

Consort Ling was smiling and speaking softly to Zhiwei. Zhiwei listened intently, her hands still moving. Zhu Liji couldn't hear the details of their conversation, but he saw Zhiwei nod occasionally, her face displaying an extremely focused and gentle expression.

Then, he saw Zhiwei turn her head and smile at Consort Ling.

That was not the respectful and aloof smile he was used to, nor the formulaic smile required to deal with palace rules.

Pinghai stood quietly beside Zhu Liji, following the emperor's gaze, and said in a low voice with a smile, "Your Majesty, look, since Consort Ling became pregnant, her demeanor has become even more gentle and charming, truly possessing a unique elegance."

Zhu Liji hummed in agreement, his gaze indeed lingering on Consort Ling for a fleeting moment. Pregnant women possess a certain voluptuous and gentle beauty, and that was precisely why he had come.

However, for some reason, his gaze seemed to be drawn by something invisible, and involuntarily fell back on the plain-looking figure squatting beside the crib.

She was still smiling, the smile spreading naturally from her eyes, like the first melting of spring ice and the babbling of a stream. Even without makeup and with her face bare, her smile remained pure, genuine, and even carried a rare touch of childlike innocence.

Zhu Liji stared at Zhiwei's genuine smile from afar, momentarily stunned.

He hadn't seen her smile like that in a very, very long time.

Why does she no longer smile at him?