Father and son of the Heavenly Family
In the bedroom of the Purple Palace, the emperor was reclining on the dragon couch, with a bright yellow brocade quilt covering his injured leg, which showed no sign of improvement. He had his eyes closed, as if he was dozing off.
A trusted guard knelt in the shadows before the couch. "Your Majesty, the medicine residue has been tested. Imperial Physician Chen has confirmed that it contains Wind-Resting Vine powder. Long-term use of this substance can cause blood stagnation, and the healing of tendons and bones can be extremely slow and difficult to detect."
The hall was dead silent, with only the sharp and piercing ticking of the clepsydra. Suddenly, the emperor's hand on the brocade quilt clenched violently, and veins popped out on the back of his hand.
"Prince..." The emperor's voice seemed to float in the air.
The heir apparent he had carefully nurtured, the son he had cared for at his deathbed, for what? Just to stay in the position of regent for a few more days? To eliminate his father? To ascend to the throne sooner?
At this moment, a cautious announcement came from outside the palace: "Your Majesty, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince requests an audience."
There was silence in the hall, and the door was not opened as usual.
The prince's heart skipped a beat.
Inside the hall, the emperor's chest heaved violently, then he forced himself to suppress his surging emotions. He closed his eyes, seemingly not hearing the report.
It lasted for a long time, so long that the prince felt that the wind and snow outside the palace seemed to have deepened.
The emperor's voice came: "I am tired and will not see you. Let him go back and take care of his affairs of state."
Outside the palace gate, Crown Prince Ning Yanqing, dressed in apricot-yellow casual clothes, stood respectfully with his hands lowered. When he heard the eunuch's refusal, the humility and worry on his face froze in an instant, and then turned pale.
His father had never rejected him like this!
He subconsciously looked up at the tightly closed palace door. The heavy door seemed like a natural barrier, separating not only the space but also the trust between father and son.
A door separates father and son.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but nothing came out.
Did his father abandon him?
Will the emperor forgive him?
Is the emperor going to depose him?
The prince stood blankly in front of the hall for a long time before turning away in a daze. The corners of his apricot-yellow robe trembled slightly in the draft.
The palace path was long, the vermilion walls on either side looming tall in the twilight. He walked step by step, lost in thought. The guards bowed their heads, the palace maids were silent, and those respectful gestures now seemed blurred in his eyes.
There was no answer, only the cold palace bricks extending beneath my feet.
Doesn’t the emperor want him anymore?
This thought made him very confused. He needed to hold on to something, a place where he might be able to breathe. His eyes unconsciously swept across the numerous palaces. Finally, without hesitation, he turned around stiffly, his steps faster than when he came, and ran towards Changle Palace where the queen lived.
Changle Palace has become the prince's final destination.
The aftermath of the estrangement between the emperor and the crown prince had not yet spread, and Ning Lingyi did not notice anything when she arrived at the Zichen Palace.
Naturally, she didn't know that the palace door that was not opened for the prince was opened for her.
As she entered the palace, she noticed the atmosphere was even more oppressive than usual. The emperor sat back on the couch, his face pale and his eyes weary as he watched her approach.
"Father..." Ning Lingyi knelt beside the couch and held the emperor's cold hand. "You don't look well, but you're not feeling well again? What did the imperial physician say?"
The emperor looked at the genuine concern in his daughter's clear eyes, shook his head, and gently patted the back of her hand. "It's nothing, it's just an old problem. Seeing you makes me feel relieved."
He paused, his gaze falling on his daughter. "Mingzhu, there's news from Beishuo. Tuoba Hong has won and is now the Khan of Beishuo."
Ning Lingyi's heart tightened, but she remained expressionless: "Your son has heard about it."
What is coming will eventually come.
The emperor looked at her deeply, as if trying to read something from her face: "As the Khan of a country, his status is worthy of my pearl. If he truly treats you, the position of Khan's Consort will not be an insult."
These words seemed like a comfort, but also like a sense of some kind of fate that had been settled.
Father will not help her anymore.
Ning Lingyi lowered her eyes, her long lashes masking the turmoil within them. Humiliation? She had never fought for status; it was something far more important.
She was silent for a moment before she whispered, "Father, I only wish you a speedy recovery."
At this moment, any debate about the engagement seemed inappropriate and powerless to change anything. How could her father, who was in danger himself, be her support? She clearly realized that her last resort was gone.
The emperor seemed to see through her silence. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes tiredly: "Go, I'm tired."
After returning to Xuehan Palace, Ning Lingyi felt heavy in her heart. She sat by the window, looking at the pomegranate flowers in the courtyard dyed red by the setting sun. For the first time, she felt so powerless.
Is this marriage contract really going to be fulfilled?
When Tuoba Hong left, was he certain that she would marry him? Ning Lingyi didn't know.
"Your Highness," Luqiao came in holding an exquisite sandalwood box and a letter, "This is sent by Beishuo Khan."
Ning Lingyi took the box and opened it. Inside was a complete and flawless snow fox skin. It felt cool to the touch and was extremely precious.
She picked up the letter and unfolded it.
Tuoba Hong's handwriting is still strong and powerful:
"Princess Mingzhu,
The snowstorms in the north have settled, and beneath the tent, only one master is missing. This snow fox was the first hunted upon my ascension to the throne. Its brilliance is as bright as a pearl. By the end of the year, Your Highness, have you devised a plan to escape?
If the southern wall is too difficult to cross, the gates of the northern dome will always be open to you. This world is vast, far beyond the confines of the Xuehan Palace. I hope you will not hesitate any longer, dwell in the northern dome, and share in the power of the world.
Tuoba Hong's handwriting
Between the lines, there is an undisguised possessiveness and also his promise of a vast world for her based on his understanding.
The four words "dwelling in the northern sky" made Ning Lingyi's eyes sore.
Tuoba Hong, he is very good.
He was the eagle of the grassland, the Khan of Beishuo. He was strong and confident, and even learned to respect her to some extent.
The gifts he bestowed upon her were each more precious and thoughtful than the last. He was almost the perfect husband that any woman in this world could hope for.
To share the vast world and control the wind and clouds, this is almost one of the highest honors that a woman in the world can achieve. A noble position worthy of her status, both publicly and privately, this should be an enviable marriage.
But what surged in Ning Lingyi's heart was not joy or expectation, but an indescribable resistance.
She didn't want to.
She didn't want to marry him.
Just because he is good enough, should she be grateful and take shelter under his wings, and disguise this unwilling bond as a home where they are in love?
"Dwelling in the North Firmament?" she repeated in a low voice.
Tuoba Hong was as strong as ever. He gave her a choice, but was certain that she would eventually walk into the cage he drew, a cage that was bigger, more gorgeous, and more solid than the Xue Han Palace.
"In the name of your husband, you imprisoned me in your palm, overlooking the world you gave me. Is this the shared power you promised?"
An indescribable feeling of depression welled up in my heart.
Is there really no way out? No, no matter what, she will never accept her fate.
At the same time, in Prince Yong’s Mansion.
The secret room of Prince Yong's Mansion.
The candlelight flickered uneasily in the enclosed air. A confidant stood by with his hands drooping, reporting, "Your Highness, the Purple Palace has reported that the Crown Prince requested an audience today, but His Majesty refused to see him. When the Crown Prince left, his expression was extremely grim."
Prince Yong turned his back to the candlelight. After a while, his hands at his sides tightened almost imperceptibly.
"I see." His voice was emotionless.
Without looking up, the confidant continued, "The messenger from the palace said that there is already a rift between father and son."
Prince Yong slowly turned around, the candlelight only illuminating half of his face, while the other half was hidden in the shadows.
"Yeah." He responded, walked to the desk, and brushed his fingertips across the cold paperweight on the desk.
"Give the order and everyone can start preparing."
"Your Highness?" The confidant confirmed cautiously.
"Well," Prince Yong's gaze fell on the palace in the center of the map and paused for a moment, "It's absolutely safe."
"Yes, sir!" Xin Fu bowed deeply and retreated silently.
The secret room returned to silence, with only the flickering candlelight. Prince Yong's gaze lingered on that point on the map for a long time. The Purple Palace was hidden in the shadow of the lamp.
Late at night, Prince Yong walked slowly towards the backyard.
After passing through several silent corridors, he pushed open the door of the warm room in the inner courtyard. It was warm here and the candlelight was soft.
Princess Yong was bending down to straighten the clothes of the prince. The little prince had just taken a bath and his face was rosy. He looked up curiously at his father coming in.
"Father!" The child's clear voice broke the silence.
The coldness on Prince Yong's face instantly melted away like ice and snow, turning into warmth.
He took a few steps forward and bent down. Instead of picking up his son immediately as usual, he reached out his hand and gently stroked his son's soft head with his fingertips.
"Is Ze'er good today?" he asked in a low and soft voice.
"Ze'er is very good!" The little prince nodded vigorously and stretched out his little hand to reach his father.
King Yong then picked him up and let him sit in his arms.
He turned his gaze to the princess. She smiled gently, but her eyes lingered on his face for a moment, with a barely perceptible hint of inquiry.
"Your Highness seems to have something important to do today?" the princess asked softly, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on her son's clothes with her hands.
Prince Yong held his son in his arms, walked to the window, and looked out at the dark night. In that direction was the imperial palace.
He did not directly answer the princess's question, but looked down at his innocent son in his arms, his voice becoming slower and deeper:
"Zer," he called, the child's pure eyes reflecting his deep gaze, "look at daddy."
The young master blinked in confusion.
"Daddy is paving a way for you. A way where you no longer have to rely on others and no longer be looked down upon." He raised his eyes to look at the princess, and their eyes met.
The princess met his gaze, and the complexity deep in her eyes finally melted away. She didn't say anything, but just gently leaned her head on his shoulder. Her husband was her heaven, and she knew nothing, but she understood everything.
Her husband, her son, she closed her eyes, opened them again, raised her hand, and gently covered the back of her husband's hand that was holding her son.
Prince Yong tightened his arms, holding his wife and children in his arms, enjoying the happiness of this moment. He had waited for this day for too long.
He was unwilling to wait any longer.
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