After sending Nan Nan away, Yuan Zhao's health became worse.
I can only stay awake for one or two hours throughout the day.
She was drowsy and awake, awake and drowsy, and often could not distinguish between dreams and reality.
Whenever the imperial physician came, Wei Shaoqing would come in person and stay by her side, his face full of worry.
Everyone praised him as a good husband and his unwavering devotion to her.
But when Yuan Zhao was rarely awake, she could increasingly see impatience in his eyes.
As for the daughter who was said to be raised in her care, she has never appeared since she was recorded in the royal jade disc.
Gan Tang looked at her from time to time, as if he wanted to say something but stopped himself. She knew that Gan Tang must know something.
She wanted to argue, but her body could no longer support her.
The emperor's brother came to see her several times, but every time she saw the fatigue between his brows, she didn't dare to speak.
During the days that Nan Nan was away, she often dreamed of her children.
Sheng'er, Nannan, Xiaoyu, Zhizhi...
Those little children once smiled at her in her arms.
But they...are all gone...
She becomes emotional whenever she dreams of her child.
He woke up several times, his face covered in tears and he couldn't stop vomiting blood.
This is very bad for her health, but there is nothing she can do.
This is the only way she can see her children again...
There was a faint scent of incense burning in the room, and the curling green smoke swirled in the dim light, like a dream.
The heavy curtains fell, completely blocking out the sunlight from outside. The air was so stagnant that it made people feel breathless.
The person on the bed slowly opened his eyes, and this time he was exceptionally calm.
Gan Tang may have gone to boil medicine, and there was no one in the room with him.
Only the candle flame burned silently, and the lamp oil dripped slowly, splashing on the copper table, making a slight "hissing" sound, which was particularly clear in the silent room.
Yuan Zhao opened his eyes and looked quietly at the ceiling of the tent.
After a moment, she slowly spoke, her voice weak but clear in the silent space.
"are u there?……"
The air was quiet, and seemed to have stopped for a moment.
Yuan Zhao tilted his head slightly and looked towards the bedside, his eyes focused and calm, and asked again,
"You're here, aren't you?"
Her eyes were much clearer than before, and even her complexion had recovered a lot.
If the imperial physician were here, he would definitely know that this was a last gasp of life.
Still no one answered.
Yuan Zhao pulled a very faint smile at the corner of his lips and said slowly,
"I know you've been... since a long time ago..."
She looked away, as if recalling something, "It's... from the year when Mother passed away... right?"
The candlelight stopped flickering.
She showed a rare expectation in her eyes and asked softly,
"Are you... the Queen Mother?"
The candlelight flickered.
It seems not.
Yuan Zhao did not show any disappointment, but just tilted his head slightly, with gentle eyes, trying to think about the answer to this question.
But she found that she could not remember much.
Her memory was like old papers blown away by the wind, fragmented and difficult to piece together.
Who is it?
She stared blankly at a certain place, her thoughts were confused, yet seemed clear.
Suddenly, an extremely subtle breeze blew by, and she could feel the gentle touch, like a palm gently brushing her cheek, slowly approaching her.
The corners of her eyes were slightly moist, and she squeezed out a very light word from between her lips and teeth.
"Thank you."
The wind stopped in front of her.
Her voice became softer, as if it would dissipate at the touch of a finger.
"Thank you for being with me for so many years..."
The wind slowly approached her.
Yuan Zhao thought that his end was probably approaching, which was why he felt that this was a hug.
A hot tear fell.
The wind embraced her.
She slowly closed her eyes in this virtual and real embrace.
Stopped breathing.
The candlelight flickered slightly, and then went out.
…
Gan Tang will always remember the day the princess left: the wind was howling and the rain was pouring.
It's like he wants to overturn everything.
But what she didn't know was that the rain was not only falling in the capital.
Thousands of miles away, Xiaoyue City also experienced a rare rainstorm.
That night, outside the palace, thunder rumbled, heavy rain poured down, and strong winds swept across the entire city. Even the heaven and earth were wailing.
The man who was reviewing memorials in the main hall suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest, as if an invisible knife had stabbed into his heart, causing him so much pain that he couldn't even breathe.
“Click—”
The pen in his hand broke suddenly due to unconscious force, and ink spilled all over the table.
The pain in his chest became more and more severe. He could hardly stand. His brows were furrowed and cold sweat was dripping from his forehead.
It was like a part of the body being torn away.
The wind suddenly rushed into the hall, sweeping away everything, rolling up the pages of the book on the table and also blowing away a painting hanging on the wall.
The painting was once carefully hung in the most conspicuous place in the hall, with the curtains hanging low, and it never got dusty in all four seasons.
But at this moment, a strong wind suddenly rushed in, and the scroll was instantly blown away and fell off without warning.
The drawing paper rolled in the air, torn by the ruthless storm and swept into the endless darkness.
He stretched out his hand suddenly, trying to grab the painting.
But the pain in my chest suddenly intensified, like a heavy hammer hitting my heart.
His eyes went dark and he staggered back a step. His fingertips just touched the corner of the painting, but he was unable to grab it.
The painting was completely swept away on a stormy night and disappeared into the endless darkness.
It seemed to mean that someone had completely left his life.
When he came to his senses, the rain had stopped, the wind had died down, the night was dark and silent as death.
That painting can never be found again.
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