Imperial Husband
The imperial carriage's return to the capital did not cause much commotion.
Everything seemed to be a natural progression.
Tuoba Hong was placed in Kunning Palace, the palace that belonged to the empress in all dynasties. The palace servants were respectful and behaved properly, as if he was born to be the male owner here and the legitimate emperor of the new dynasty.
They served him in his daily life, following strict etiquette but also observing him carefully. After all, the origin of this emperor was too special.
Ning Lingyi became extremely busy.
It was the Taichu New Dynasty, and there was a lot of work to be done. Beishuo had just been dealt a heavy blow, and countless issues were waiting for her to decide. She spent almost the entire day in the Minyou Hall or the Imperial Study, discussing state affairs with important officials and reviewing memorials that seemed to never be finished.
But she didn't ignore him completely.
Every now and then, she would find time to come to Kunning Palace.
Sometimes it is a brief moment in the afternoon, sometimes it is the bright light of the stars and the moon.
When she came, she was often tired and didn't say much. She just sat down beside him or looked at him quietly for a while, occasionally asking "Are you used to living here?" or "Is there anything you lack?" After he gave her a long silence or a simple shake of his head, she would stop asking.
Rewards flowed into Kunning Palace like water.
Rare antiques and paintings, silks and satins, tributes from all over the country... these are all rare treasures in the world, piled up in the magnificent palace, but they make this place seem even more deserted.
She seemed to be making up to him in this way, or to soothe his already broken heart.
Tuoba Hong remained silent throughout.
He wore the emperor's regular clothes, which were made of fine materials and had delicate embroidery, but they always seemed empty.
He often sat alone by the window for the entire afternoon, his eyes fixed on the square sky outside the window, or the few plants in the courtyard that were gradually growing lush, his eyes empty and without any focus.
He didn't read books, play the piano, or do any other entertainment. He just sat there like a sculpture forgotten by time.
At first, the palace servants tried to get him to talk or suggested that he go to the imperial garden to relax, but in the face of his unresponsive silence, they gradually gave up and decided not to disturb this emperor who seemed to be living in another world.
Ning Lingyi seemed not to care about it.
She never asked him to bow to her, never asked him to respond to her questions, and never even asked him to show the "virtue" that a royal husband should have.
She gave him maximum freedom, allowing him to immerse himself in his own world and lick the wounds that would never heal.
As time went on, the palace people couldn't help but talk about it.
Two young palace maids whispered, "This emperor is truly blessed. Not only has His Majesty not appointed any other royal attendants, he's even dispensed with the morning and evening visits. In the previous dynasty, which empress had such freedom?"
"That's right," another maid echoed quietly, "He's been silent all day, never even smiling. If it were anyone else, they would have been denounced as disrespectful, but yet Your Majesty indulges him and showers him with rewards. I wonder what you see in him."
These trivial discussions, like wind blowing across the water, quickly dissipated in the silent air of Kunning Palace.
He sat in the gorgeous and lonely cage of Kunning Palace for a whole summer. The chirping of cicadas outside the window gradually faded away, and the edges of the green leaves in the courtyard were quietly stained with a little yellow.
As autumn deepened, Ning Lingyi came to Kunning Palace again.
This time, she did not come empty-handed, but brought a not-too-thick memorial book.
She gently placed the memorial on the low table beside him and said without saying anything, "Take a look at this."
Tuoba Hong slowly withdrew his gaze from the window and settled on the memorial. The cover was a common cyan color, with neat official script written on it.
He hesitated for a moment and opened it.
The memorial was submitted by the Northern Frontier Governor, detailing the recent progress in resettling the people of Beishuo who had surrendered.
Over 200,000 households of Beishuo people had moved into the interior of the country. The imperial court designated special areas in several border prefectures that had become relatively sparsely populated due to the war, established villages for them, and distributed fields, farm tools, and seeds.
To ensure that they could survive the initial difficult period, the government allocated relief grain per person, enough to support them until the summer harvest of next year. The memorial also specifically mentioned that in order to stabilize people's hearts and facilitate management, the grassroots officials of these newly established villages were mostly selected from the people who surrendered from Beishuo, who were proficient in Chinese, sensible and law-abiding. The court only sent a few officials to coordinate.
Finally, the memorial emphasized the strict order issued by His Majesty before, that anyone who bullies the people of Beishuo will be punished with an even more severe crime, and that all localities must strictly enforce it to promote integration.
The handwriting is clear and well-organized.
Tuoba Hong read very slowly, almost word by word.
After a long time, he raised his head and looked at Ning Lingyi who was sitting opposite him and waiting quietly.
This was the first time he took the initiative to speak after returning to the capital: "I... want to go and take a look."
Ning Lingyi looked at the complex and indistinguishable light in his eyes, without the slightest surprise. She simply nodded calmly, "Okay, I'll arrange for someone to take you there."
*
The itinerary was arranged quickly.
Tuoba Hong left the capital with only a few guards and headed north.
The "Guihua Town" where he went was a larger resettlement site.
This place is located in the buffer zone where the Xin Dynasty and Beishuo intersect. Due to years of war, nine out of ten houses were deserted and the land was barren, but now it has been given new life.
The layout of the town shows obvious signs of planning. The houses are made of uniform adobe structures. Although not gorgeous, they are sturdy and neat, enough to shelter from wind and rain.
It was the end of the autumn harvest, and busy figures could still be seen in the fields. They transported the harvested grain back to their own yards, with expressions on their faces that Tuoba Hong had never seen on the faces of the Beishuo slaves in his memory.
The residents here still retain the deep outlines and tall frames of the Beishuo people, but their clothes are the short-sleeved clothes of ordinary farmers. Although they may not be used to it and feel a little awkward, they are clean and complete.
Children were chasing and playing in the alleys, their accents a mixture of Beishuo dialect and stiff Mandarin, but their laughter was just as clear and crisp.
Tuoba Hong did not disturb too many people and just walked silently.
He went to the town's government office, and sure enough, most of the clerks inside were from Beishuo. They were using their half-familiar official language to check the household registration with several clerks sent by the court. Although they were busy, everything was in good order.
He also walked into ordinary people's homes and saw piles of newly harvested corn in their barns, dried meat strips hanging under the eaves, and chickens and ducks raised in the yards.
The women sat at the door, doing needlework and chatting in their native dialect. When they saw strangers coming, they would look at them curiously, with no fear in their eyes, but only a little shyness and inquiry.
He had personally worked in the fields and knew how much an acre of land could yield when the weather was good. He knew that this food, combined with government relief, would be enough for these slaves, who once lived and died at the mercy of fate on the grassland, to spend a winter without suffering from hunger and cold.
Ning Lingyi did not lie to him.
She gave these people a way to survive, a way that might be difficult, but one with dignity and hope.
He settled down in this small town and stayed there for more than half a month.
Every day I just walk around, look around, listen to the familiar local accents, and talk about the trivialities of life that are full of fireworks.
That evening, the setting sun dyed the sky a warm orange-red.
Tuoba Hong was walking alone on the newly built dirt road outside the town when a rosy-cheeked little boy from Beishuo, about seven or eight years old, came running up to him, carrying a large earthenware bowl. He tried to mix Mandarin with Beishuo dialect and said to him with his head tilted up, "Here... here you eat! My mother said it was you... the Emperor who let us through. Thank you... for giving us food!"
The little boy's eyes sparkled with pure gratitude. "Now, we don't have to be beaten by the masters anymore. We can have enough food to eat and a house to live in!"
The little boy stuffed the bowl into his hand, and without waiting for his reaction, ran away shyly.
Tuoba Hong stood there in a daze, looking down at the bowl of steaming corn rice in his hand. The rice grains were plump and exuded the most original aroma of grains.
He held the bowl of rice and stood in the deepening dusk for a long time, until the cold night dew wet his clothes.
The next day, he set out to return to the capital.
After returning to Kunning Palace, he remained silent, but the palace people vaguely felt that something was different. There was something more real in his eyes.
A few days later, a clearly organized memorial was delivered to Ning Lingyi's desk.
The memorial was signed "Your Majesty Tuoba Hong".
It detailed specific suggestions on how to further restore the livelihood of the people in the Beishuo area and promote the integration of the Han and Hu peoples: these included introducing crop varieties more suitable for the cold climate of Mobei, improving animal husbandry, establishing more stable border trade channels, and respecting Beishuo customs in education to reduce resistance...
All of these are practical measures proposed by him.
From that day on, the lights in the study of Kunning Palace were often on until late at night.
Tuoba Hong began to truly fulfill his duties as an imperial husband and became the most solid bridge connecting the remnants of Beishuo and the new dynasty.
He patiently handled the demands of the people of Beishuo, reflected their difficulties to the court, and assisted the court in implementing its policies more smoothly.
He uses his status and influence to try to eliminate barriers and misunderstandings.
He still doesn't talk much, but he no longer sits there meaninglessly.
He found a fulcrum, a fulcrum that allowed him to continue moving forward despite his heavy past and complex identity.
People in the court and the country gradually got used to the existence of this silent but pragmatic emperor.
No one mentioned his former identity as an enemy chief anymore. Only when discussing him in private would they call him a "virtuous husband" with a somewhat complicated sigh.
In some unnoticed corners, palace servants would still whisper, "The Emperor works so hard, ultimately for the people of his homeland. Your Majesty treats him this way, but what he has in mind may not be Your Majesty."
"Who says it isn't? Your Majesty is so tolerant, I don't know if it's too lenient, or..." The rest of the voice gradually became lower and could no longer be heard.
Ning Lingyi watched his changes without saying much, but when he handed in the memorial, she would read it extra carefully, adopt the feasible suggestions, and leave more related matters to him.
The late autumn sunlight filtered through the high windows and fell onto the desk in Kunning Palace, illuminating his figure as he wrote furiously and her silhouette as she quietly reviewed memorials beside him.
The hall was quiet, with only the faint sound of turning pages.
She and he eventually became a couple recorded in history books.
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