Extra Chapter 10 Tuoba Hong: Returning to the Countryside
It’s hard to describe what life was like in the Southern Dynasty Palace, but it was definitely not pleasant.
The gate of Kunning Palace has never been opened since it was closed in the tenth year of Taichu.
Tuoba Hong became the sole prisoner and the sole guard in this magnificent cage. He also wanted to see the sky outside and feel the wind outside the palace walls, but his willpower was as strong as Ning Lingyi's. Having imprisoned himself, he would never take a single step out.
Sometimes, Tuoba Hong would wonder how future history books would record him as the emperor's husband?
Was it "the last ruler of Beishuo, the imperial husband of the new dynasty," or "a policy of restraint, a marriage of convenience"? Thinking about it, he shook his head and laughed, feeling that it was meaningless.
The pen of history is as sharp as a knife, but it cannot fully carve out the gullies in people's hearts, let alone describe the silent entanglement within the palace gates.
At first, Ning Lingyi didn't come.
He waited for two years, from autumn to winter, and she finally pushed open the heavy door on the full moon night of the third year. There was no explanation, no words, she just came, sat quietly for a moment, and then left.
After that, she would also give him some things on weekdays.
Sometimes it was a dish that she thought tasted decent, sometimes it was a new thing she wanted to play with, and once, a eunuch brought her a small bundle of golden wheat ears, saying that they were planted by His Majesty himself in the palace and specially given to the emperor.
He looked at the plump grains of wheat for a long time under the lamp.
The next day, he asked the palace servants to find some pottery pots and fertile soil, and started planting wheat under the sunny windows of Kunning Palace. Later, he added vegetables.
In the deep palace of the Southern Dynasty, he, the former Khan of Beishuo and now the emperor of the Xin Dynasty, is actually like an old farmer, watering, fertilizing and weeding every day, watching the seeds break through the soil, sprout and turn green.
When you have something to do, life becomes less difficult.
When the wheat that he had planted with his own hands sprouted green ears and swayed in the wind, the dry and lonely lake in his heart actually began to ripple slightly.
The true companionship began in the twentieth year of Taichu.
Ning Lingyi let her sister Ning Lingyao serve as regent, and she gradually unloaded the burden.
One day, she came to Kunning Palace and said to him, "Let's move to Guitianyuan."
There were no ceremonial guards or escorts, only a few light carriages, carrying them and some daily expenses, back to the imperial estate in the west of Beijing, which had once made him suffer hardships and allowed him to first understand what creation was.
The days seem to flow backwards, yet they are completely different.
He and she both changed into coarse clothes and looked like ordinary farmers and farmwomen, working from sunrise to sunset.
Cultivating land, sowing, fertilizing, harvesting... these were all familiar tasks for them. He was even more dedicated than when he was in the palace. Not only did he grow wheat, he also started a vegetable garden, learned to pickle vegetables, and even tried cooking.
When he served the roast lamb he made for the first time, he looked at Ning Lingyi nervously.
"Try it," he said, pushing the plate closer. "It's baked the way we do it in Beishuo. I wonder if it suits your taste."
Ning Lingyi picked up a small piece and tasted it carefully.
He waited with bated breath.
"It's delicious," she said finally, taking another piece. "It's more authentic than what the palace chef makes."
He breathed a sigh of relief, a faint smile playing in the corners of his eyes: "If you like, I can also make soufflés, I can make them for you to try tomorrow."
"Okay." She responded straightforwardly, adding, "But I also want to try the Southern Dynasty dishes. Can you cook?"
"I can learn," he said immediately, "if you're willing to try."
Unexpectedly, Ning Lingyi actually liked the dishes he cooked, which made him quite happy.
From then on, she could use some of the roasted lamb and dairy products with Beishuo flavor, or the Southern Dynasty stir-fries that he had tried to make, which was great.
In their spare time, the two would carry the fruits and vegetables they produced and walk to a nearby market to sell them. This time, no ruffians dared to rob them.
Listening to the crisp sound of copper coins falling into the cloth bag, watching her holding the few taels of silver and counting them again and again like a child who had obtained a favorite item, with a happiness in her eyes that he had never seen before, he felt that this day seemed not bad.
Her closest relatives and ministers often visited her.
Ning Lingyao always brought various treats and chattered about interesting things happening in the court: "Sister, brother-in-law, this is the new tribute tea from Jiangnan. I brought some here specially. Those old ministers in the court were arguing over the grain transport issue again today. There's really no peace for a single day."
Tuoba Hong silently poured tea for her, while Ning Lingyi smiled and shook her head: "Now that I've handed it to you, it's your business."
Wang Mengzi still disliked him, but he would always bring him a whole sheep from Beishuo, muttering, "Don't let our Majesty starve. This sheep is the best breed on the grassland, and the meat is tender and fresh. You should cook it well for your Majesty."
"I will." Tuoba Hong took the sheep and responded calmly.
"Your Majesty has been looking good lately," Wang Mengzi turned to Ning Lingyi, his tone immediately softening, "much better than when he was in the palace."
Ning Lingyi chuckled: "The air in the countryside is good and quiet."
When Su Qingfan came, he was mostly quiet, chatting with Ning Lingyi and looking at the crops.
"The wheat is growing well," Su Qingfan said as he stood on the edge of the field. "The harvest should be better than last year."
"He takes good care of it." Ning Lingyi looked at Tuoba Hong who was watering the plants not far away.
Su Qingfan nodded and smiled gently: "That's very good, Your Majesty."
These days, far away from the temple and close to the earth, flow on as calmly as water.
It was not until that morning that he saw with his own eyes that she was holding onto the edge of the field and coughing up a large mouthful of blood. The bright red blood was glaring, and her face quickly turned pale.
He was shocked and understood instantly.
Yes, she is just a woman after all, with flesh and blood. How can she withstand the wind, frost and swords of ten years of war, and how can she withstand the hard work of twenty years of imperial career?
Her life span has long been overdrawn.
On the day she passed away, he had been guarding her bedside.
Seeing her breath gradually weaken and finally stop, he was panicked and subconsciously called for people, including palace maids, imperial doctors, and ministers...
People rushed in, carried her away, and never brought her back.
He never saw her again.
Until the funeral, he was wearing the emperor's formal attire, standing among the mourning crowd, looking at the heavy coffin, and felt out of place.
Isn't she his wife?
Everyone was crying for the loss of a holy monarch, but he, the emperor's husband, the person nominally closest to her, seemed like an outsider, and even his sadness seemed inappropriate.
When she left, he seemed to have lost the meaning of his existence.
No one cared about him anymore. Even when he quietly left the capital and headed north, returning to the grassland where he was born and raised, no one stopped him or asked him any questions.
He rode a horse and walked on the grassland that he once knew well, looking at the blue sky and white clouds, the yurts, cattle and sheep, and listening to the herdsmen singing ancient songs.
The people here live a peaceful life with satisfied smiles on their faces. They talk about the benevolent rule of Emperor Taichu and the Emperor's husband, and their words are full of gratitude.
This place is nice, but also very strange.
The wars of war, tribal disputes, and slave tragedies in his memories have all faded into the distance. He is no longer the Khan who can decide the fate of this grassland, and he is not even a returning wanderer.
In the end, he turned his horse around and returned to Guitianyuan in the west of Beijing.
Only here, her scent still lingered, and the warm time they spent together as an ordinary couple remained. He continued to farm the fields they had worked together, and lived in the hut where she had spent her last years, day after day.
Before he closed his eyes, he looked out the window at the land they had cultivated together, and the question kept circling in his mind: Does he love Ning Lingyi?
He doesn't know.
He couldn't give an answer.
No answer is needed.
He slowly closed his eyes, as if he saw her in cloth again.
That's enough.
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