Heart Glimmer

That night, the moon was cool and clear.

After reviewing the last memorial, Wei Jin rubbed his temples, a vague sense of irritation and weariness settling over him. The imperial study was brightly lit by candlelight, yet it couldn't dispel the oppressive atmosphere built up by the accumulated political burdens. Although the personnel changes at the outskirts of the capital and the Imperial Guards had gone smoothly during the day, Huo Ying's faction would certainly not let it go easily, and a new wave of undercurrents would only surge even more fiercely.

He rose, dismissed the eunuchs who wanted to follow him, and, dressed only in a black casual robe, strolled into the chill of the autumn night.

He didn't need a specific destination; he just wanted to avoid those scrutinizing, calculating eyes and find a moment of peace.

Under the moonlight, the palace lost its daytime splendor, revealing a desolate yet vast outline.

Unbeknownst to him, he had wandered to a rather secluded palace garden. This was not the residence of the favored concubine, and few people usually came here. Only the chirping of autumn insects and the rustling of bamboo leaves in the wind could be heard.

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.

Faintly, a very faint sobbing sound, so unlike the chirping of insects or the sound of the wind, drifted on the breeze—

Interspersed with intermittent, incredibly devout whispers.

He frowned, and silently followed the sound, skirting a clump of dense green bamboo. In the moonlight, beside a withered epiphyllum plant, a petite figure dressed in thin, elegant clothing knelt on a cold stone slab. There were no incense or offerings before her, only her hands, tightly clasped to her chest, reddened from the cold.

It was Qin Ru, the young lady who dropped her handkerchief during the day.

She was clearly unaware of his arrival, completely absorbed in her own world, her voice choked yet crystal clear as she whispered a prayer:

"...I pray to Buddha and Bodhisattva, and all the gods to protect me. I pray that His Majesty did not punish me for my stupidity during the day...I truly did not mean it...His Majesty works so hard every day and looks so tired. I pray that His Majesty will be healthy and everything will go smoothly. I pray that there will be no more assassins and no more worries...I am willing to eat vegetarian food and chant Buddhist prayers, sacrificing my own blessings and lifespan, just to pray for His Majesty's safety..."

Her prayer was so simple it was almost clumsy, repeating the same few lines over and over. She didn't ask for any favor or wealth for herself, but only expressed her fear and atonement for the daytime "frightening" of the emperor, and her most straightforward and pure concern for him—the ruler of the world.

The worry was so real that it was impossible to deny, as if his well-being was more important to her than her own fate.

Wei Jin stood still, surrounded by silence as dark as the night.

He had seen far too many prayers.

Prayers for favor, prayers for official advancement, prayers for a bountiful harvest… all are filled with clear desires. But I have never heard of such a… pure, even somewhat foolish, prayer, simply for his safety, and willing to offer one’s own fortune and longevity in return.

The moonlight shone on her thin shoulders, and she trembled slightly, whether from the cold, fear, or piety, it was hard to tell.

The scene strangely soothed the slight irritation in my heart.

A complex emotion swept through me—a sense of absurdity, that the prayers of such a nobody were of no benefit to the nation; yet there was also a faint, long-lost touch, like hearing the faint sound of flowing water beneath the frozen surface of a river.

He deliberately made his steps heavy.

Qin Ru was startled by the sudden noise and trembled, turning her head sharply.

When she saw the tall, aloof figure in the moonlight, her face instantly drained of color, turning even paler than the moonlight. She almost collapsed, collapsing to her knees, her voice trembling uncontrollably: "Your Majesty! This servant...this servant deserves to die!"

She was so frightened she almost fainted, thinking that her "actions" in the middle of the night had been discovered and she would be punished.

"Raise your head." Wei Jin's voice was devoid of emotion, even fainter than the night breeze.

Qin Ru raised her head tremblingly, her eyes already filled with tears of fear, like a frightened fawn, even more pitiful than during the day.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his gaze falling on her fingers, which were red from the cold.

"This servant...this servant..." Qin Ru stammered incoherently, finally closing her eyes and kowtowing, "This servant has disturbed Your Majesty's presence during the day, and is filled with fear and unease. I know my sins are grave, and I dare not ask Your Majesty for forgiveness. I only pray that the gods will protect Your Majesty...This servant will never dare to do it again, and begs Your Majesty for punishment!"

She seemed convinced that she was going to be convicted again.

Seeing her terrified yet forcibly pleading guilty, Wei Jin suddenly felt a little...amusing? Or perhaps it wasn't really amusing, but rather a very unfamiliar experience, completely different from the scheming of the imperial court.

"If I were to punish you, wouldn't I be betraying the peace you prayed for for me, even at the cost of your own lifespan?"

He spoke softly, his tone seemingly softening by a barely perceptible degree.

Qin Ru froze, her tearful eyes widening, seemingly unable to believe that His Majesty had actually heard her prayer, and... seemed not to be angry at all?

"Get up and answer," Wei Jin said. "It's late and the dew is heavy; kneeling for too long will harm your health."

This seemingly ordinary expression of concern left Qin Ru completely bewildered. She obediently stood up, trembling, head bowed, unable to look at him.

"Can you read?" Wei Jin suddenly asked a seemingly unrelated question.

"Your Majesty, my father taught me a few characters..." Qin Ru answered softly, her heart pounding like a drum.

Wei Jin watched her so nervous that she almost moved her hands and feet in unison. Her eyes were still clear and bright in the moonlight, and all her emotions were clearly written in them: fear, panic, surprise, and a trace of remaining piety.

Being around such a person might save you a lot of energy from guessing.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. The palace maids who served him with writing materials in the Imperial Study were never quick-witted enough, or their minds were too active. Perhaps, replacing them with someone like this... simple and pure, would bring him a moment of true peace and quiet.

"Tomorrow, you won't need to learn the rules anymore."

Wei Jin's voice regained its usual majesty, but he made an impromptu decision, "My imperial study is short of a palace maid to serve as a scribe. You shall come and serve me."

After saying that, he turned and left without waiting for Qin Ru's reaction, his dark figure quickly disappearing into the night.

Qin Ru was left standing alone in the moonlight, as if she had just woken up from a bizarre dream.

After the initial shock came an unbelievable euphoria and an even deeper unease.

A palace maid holding a writing brush? A servant before the emperor? She...she can get that close to His Majesty now?

As Wei Jin walked away, the irritation in his heart seemed to have dissipated somewhat.

To him, assigning an insignificant young lady to serve him was merely a matter of a word. Perhaps, having a little simple and harmless "freshness" around was like placing a pleasing plant in a dreary palace—it required no care but was pleasing to the eye. Occasionally glancing at it and exchanging a few insignificant words could temporarily ease the pervasive tension.

As autumn deepens, the atmosphere in the palace is subtly shifting due to subtle changes in His Majesty's demeanor.

Several days later.

Ling Zhan was busy in the garden of Fengyi Palace, with the head lady-in-waiting Wanxing assisting him.

Suddenly, a palace maid announced softly that Su Su and Shen Suihe had come to the palace to pay their respects.

"Didn't you just go to the Grand Minister of Agriculture yesterday? Why are you here today?" Ling Zhan put down his hoe and asked gently.

“Replying to Mother,” Su Su replied with a smile, “I just happened to make a new undergarment for Father today, made of ice silkworm silk, and rushed over to deliver it. I ran into Sui He and we agreed to come to the palace together to pay our respects to Mother. I kowtowed outside the Imperial Study earlier, but I heard that Father was discussing matters with several officials, so I didn’t want to disturb him and came here first.”

Suihe, being more lively, accepted the tea offered by the palace maid and said with a smile, "Yes, I also saw an unfamiliar palace maid outside the Imperial Study. She looked quite novel."

Ling Zhan didn't pay any attention, taking it as just casual conversation, and said casually, "The people in the Imperial Guard are changed from time to time, what's so new about that?"

Su Su nodded gently and added in a calm tone, "Mother, that palace maid is indeed a bit special. I noticed that she seemed extremely nervous when she was on duty in front of the Emperor. Father just asked her a casual question about ink color, and she was so frightened that her fingertips trembled slightly, her ears turned red, and she held her breath, as if she was afraid of making the slightest mistake."

Suihe, who had been unable to contain herself any longer, put down her teacup, her eyes gleaming with the light of discovery, and eagerly offered a more vivid interpretation: "It's more than just nervousness and fear! Sister Susu is being too subtle! Mother, it doesn't seem like simple fear of the Emperor's majesty to me. The way she looked—her face as red as a ripe peach, wanting to look at Father but not daring to, stealing a glance before lowering her eyelids in panic, her fingers twisting the hem of her clothes—it's clearly like..."

She paused deliberately, lowered her voice, and said with a knowing, worldly-wise smile, "It's just like in those storybooks, where a young girl, just beginning to experience love, suddenly bumps into the man she's long admired but who is unattainable! She's both shy and flustered, at a loss for what to do, her heart pounding, yet she can't bear to leave. Just being able to stand nearby and steal a glance is already an incredible stroke of luck!"

Su Su paused for a moment and said, "I just heard Ling Feng say that Father Emperor himself transferred her from among the imperial concubines."

The two of them talked back and forth.

The film vividly portrays the image of a young girl who is filled with fear and anxiety due to pure admiration, and whose emotions are as sincere as the first snow.

Wanxing listened from the side, her brows furrowing slightly.

Ling Zhan's hand holding the teacup was as steady as a rock, but his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly.

She knew, of course, that a new palace maid had been assigned to the Imperial Study, but she never bothered to pay attention to her.

At this moment, through the detailed and accurate descriptions of the two adopted daughters, it was learned that Wei Jin himself had chosen them from among the selected women.

That would truly make it a special case.

Her fingertips unconsciously traced the warm surface of the cup.

His expression remained calm and composed, even carrying a faint, helpless smile, as if he were listening to his daughters discuss a trivial and amusing matter: "Perhaps they are young and new to the Emperor's court, and haven't fully learned the rules yet, so it's understandable that they are overly nervous. It's normal for ordinary people to be afraid of His Majesty's majesty."

She casually attributed her daughters' observations to "nervousness" and "fear," her tone calm and unwavering.

When Susu and Suihe heard their mother say this, they smiled and agreed.

They then turned to other casual anecdotes, and the atmosphere inside the hall remained harmonious and warm.

However, deep within Ling Zhan's calm eyes, a subtle ripple of understanding gently spread out.

She doesn't need to check it herself.

Her daughters' keen observation and her adults' judgment were enough for her to piece together the truth.

This is an emotion completely different from all the desires and scheming in the palace.

Pure, blind, and unadulterated.

Perhaps it's harmless, perhaps... it's just a possibility, but will it be chosen?

Ling Zhan's gaze swept across the distant sky outside the window, lingering for a moment on a certain floating cloud.

She didn't say anything more.

But in her heart, everything was already crystal clear.

In the Imperial Study, this delicate figure indeed brought about many differences.

The air was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood, the only sounds were the soft scratching of a red brush as it reviewed memorials, and the occasional gentle rustling of pages turning.

Wei Jin's gaze swept over a poem that needed to be copied. He did not summon the usual eunuch, but simply said, "Qin Ru."

The figure standing in the corner trembled slightly and immediately replied, "This servant is here." Her voice was soft and gentle, carrying her usual nervousness.

She stepped forward quickly, bowed her head, and respectfully accepted the page of the poem written by the emperor himself with both hands.

She laid out the paper and ground the ink, her movements so gentle they were almost silent.

She picked up a purple brush, took a deep breath, and then began to write.

The brush tip moved across the rice paper. She tried to imitate it perfectly, but while she could make it look similar, she lacked the spirit. She copied very slowly and very carefully, holding her breath with every stroke, as if she were performing an extremely sacred ritual.

Wei Jin occasionally glanced up from the memorials and saw her like this: her slender neck was lowered, revealing a section of fair skin, her profile looked particularly soft and focused in the candlelight, and her long eyelashes trembled occasionally, like the wings of a startled butterfly.

The ink spread evenly in her hands, the shades always just right, and she never made a mistake.

She would only suddenly raise her head when he casually asked something unrelated to court affairs, such as "Has it rained in Jiangnan recently?"

Those eyes, always clear and bright, lit up instantly at the Emperor's sudden inquiry, as if unexpectedly flooded with starlight. A look of overwhelming gratitude almost overflowed from them. She hurriedly lowered her head, her voice barely audible: "Your Majesty, when I left the capital, my hometown was already in the season of apricot blossoms, and rain...rain was frequent..."

Her words were always so simple, even a little hesitant, as she spoke of the apricot blossoms scattered all over the courtyard, and how the stream would rise above the stone bridge after the rain. There were no witty remarks, no metaphors, just a simple folk painting that had faded.

Wei Jin found himself sometimes unconsciously pausing to write.

Listening to that soft voice, my gaze lingered for a moment on her earnest profile.

The mountain of memorials piled on the desk, the undercurrents between the lines, and even the cold, suffocating silence between him and Ling Zhan, all seemed to find a crack in this simple, thoughtless conversation, letting in a breath of air that didn't belong to the court.

He might lightly tap the memorial he had just finished reviewing with his pen and casually say, "This snack is sweet, here you go."

Or she might gesture to a eunuch to hand her a newly arrived piece of soft silk from Jiangnan, saying, "The color is too delicate; it's not suitable. Take it."

She would always be stunned at first, then her face would quickly flush with disbelief, her eyes wide open as if she had received some priceless treasure. She would thank them helplessly, her voice choked with emotion, almost on the verge of tears. That joy was so pure and complete that it almost burned one's eyes.

Looking at her overflowing gratitude, Wei Jin felt a faint mix of a superior's sense of charity and an inexplicable pity for her purity and fragility. It was like looking at a carefully cultivated glass flower in a greenhouse—beautiful and translucent, yet so fragile that it couldn't withstand the slightest wind or rain.

All of this naturally came to the attention of the Huo family.

"Father, His Majesty seems to have a different feeling towards that Qin woman."

Huo Wanjun, the youngest daughter of the Huo family, was sixteen years old and had a beautiful face. At this moment, she was twisting her handkerchief in resentment.

Huo Ying smiled shrewdly: "That's good. The more different His Majesty treats her, the more estrangement will arise between the Empress and him. Wan Jun, your opponent has never been Qin Ru. She is the axe that splits the boulder for you. Once she smashes the stone blocking your way, your path will be smooth."

He turned to look at Su Wan, who was silent to the side: "Wan'er, do you understand? Even if His Majesty occasionally indulges in wild pleasures, as long as Ling Zhan is in power, no one can touch the position of Empress."

Su Wan lowered her eyes, making it impossible to see her expression, and only gave a soft "hmm".

She gently stroked her lower abdomen, her age increasing day by day.

She saw things more clearly than the Huo family: His Majesty's different feelings for Qin Ru were less about romantic love and more about a brief, simple, and beautiful moment of respite. Over the years, they had done business together, and he had always treated her exceptionally well.

For him, Ling Zhan was an obsession that he could not let go of, even if it meant tormenting and hurting each other.

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