Chapter 13 Headache: Will She Regain Her Memory?
Although the manor on the outskirts of Beijing was not as prosperous as the one in the city, it was naturally well-maintained in a unique style because it belonged to Emperor Qianyuan.
Wen Miao was already quite tired after boating on the lake during the day. After being led to her room by a maid, she discovered that a hot spring from the mountains had been drawn into the room, with steam rising from it.
Wen Miao waved away the servants who wanted to serve her, slowly took off her clothes, and walked barefoot into the misty pool.
Several months have passed since she woke up from her amnesia, but Wen Miao still finds it difficult to be served in these private matters. So even in the Xie family mansion, she still prefers to do things herself in some aspects, and doesn't even let Shi Cui and Wan Bi do it for her.
The hot spring was at the perfect temperature, making Wenmiao's skin slightly red. Her soft, jade-like arms were crossed by the pool, her plump, graceful, and slender figure appearing and disappearing. A glimpse of her supple waist could be seen beneath the floating water.
She let her long hair down, half-closed her eyes, and soaked in the hot spring until her hands and feet felt slightly weak before lazily emerging from the water.
Wen Miao was too lazy to dry her hair herself, and she wasn't used to being served by strangers, so she simply used a handkerchief to cover her long hair and sat sideways on the soft couch in front of the window.
The window was half-open, and candlelight shone on the wooden table on the couch. Wen Miao looked up and saw the night sky, which was shrouded in thin clouds and had a crescent moon hanging in the sky.
The night was pitch black, the moon shone brightly in the sky, the stars twinkled, and occasionally insects chirped.
But as she looked, another thought began to arise in Wen Miao's mind: the nights she remembered weren't like this at all, they seemed...
She paused, her expression blank for a moment.
What does it seem like?
Just now, a picture seemed to flash through her mind: a very tall building at night, and a blindingly bright "candlelight".
"lady!"
The familiar voice brought Wen Miao back to her senses. Her gaze focused, and she belatedly realized that a tall and imposing figure was standing in front of the window. His broad figure almost completely blocked out the bright moon, leaving only a pair of dark eyes illuminated by the candlelight inside the room.
Wen Miao saw herself reflected in the other person's eyes.
She was taken aback. "...Your Majesty?"
"Madam, are you feeling unwell anywhere? Is it a headache?"
Emperor Qian Yuan's tone was somewhat urgent. He even raised his hand and grasped Wen Miao's slightly cool hand through the window sill, his grip a little tight and his hand trembling slightly.
An unbearable stinging pain gnawed deep in her head. Her delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly, her face paled, and red marks appeared on her fair wrists from being gripped so tightly. She couldn't help but hiss softly.
The emperor immediately relaxed his hand, but his thick eyebrows were furrowed, his lips turned down, and his calm face was unsmiling, exuding a cold and frightening aura.
Previously, Emperor Qianyuan had been practicing martial arts in the neighboring courtyard, venting his pent-up anger and irritation. After cleaning himself up, he put on a single robe and came to find his wife, hoping that even just to see her and have a chat would be wonderful.
But as soon as he reached the entrance of Wen Miao's courtyard, he saw a beautiful woman with a face like a lotus flower leaning against the window, resting her chin on her hand, gazing at the moon on the horizon. Her expression was dazed and ethereal, like a goddess gazing at the moon, about to fly away from the mortal world.
Emperor Qianyuan's heartstrings tightened suddenly.
Is the lady thinking of something? Or is she longing for something through the moonlight tonight? Longing for that fairyland? Or longing for... her husband whom she almost married?
"I'm fine."
Under the soft moonlight, Wen Miao shook her head. Although her face was still a little pale, she was much better than before.
The emperor remained expressionless and silent. Instead, he stepped over the threshold and scooped up Wen Miao, who was sitting on the soft couch.
"Wait—Your Majesty!"
The shoes were still on the footstool. Wen Miao's toes curled slightly, hidden under the soft, skin-hugging skirt. Emperor Qian Yuan picked up a soft quilt from the couch with one hand and wrapped her up tightly, while walking towards the courtyard next door.
With a stern face, he instructed Zhang Ji, "Summon the imperial physician to the estate."
"yes."
Seeing Zhang Ji about to turn and leave, Wen Miao tried to struggle a little longer, her hand still on the emperor's shoulder, and said anxiously, "Your Majesty, I'm fine, there's no need to call..."
"lady."
This time, Emperor Qianyuan's tone was noticeably colder when he uttered those two words.
He stared at Wen Miao's pale face, which was tinged with a headache. In his harsh tone, one could vaguely discern a few strands of panic hidden deep within, or even... a plea.
"Will you be a good boy/girl?"
Wen Miao pursed her lips. She saw the concern in the emperor's eyes and finally just nodded obediently, relaxing her body and leaning into his arms. The stabbing pain in her head subsided, but the dull ache did not lessen, alternating in waves, causing her to lightly bite her lower lip, as if trying to suppress the low gasps deep in her throat.
A cool evening breeze was blowing, and soft lanterns hung in the neighboring courtyard.
This was originally prepared by Xu Sheng for the emperor. Inside the bright yellow bed curtains, a five-clawed golden dragon coiled on the bedding. Emperor Qian Yuan paid no attention to it, only carefully placing the woman, whose temples were covered in cold sweat, inside.
While Zhang Ji was still on his way to fetch the imperial physician, the emperor saw that Wen Miao's black hair was still damp. He frowned and silently held her in his arms. He wrapped one arm around Wen Miao's waist from behind and took the dry towel handed to him by Xu Sheng with the other hand, gently wrapping it around the woman's long hair.
The headache had come on suddenly, and Wen Miao was still a little dizzy. She hadn't noticed that she was nestled in the emperor's arms until the dull pain subsided. When she opened her eyes with trembling eyelashes, she realized that her entire back was pressed against the man's chest behind her.
The thin robe, with its collar slightly open, wrapped around Emperor Qian Yuan's tall frame, its deep chest radiating heat that almost evaporated the moisture from Wen Miao's hair.
It's too close, and it's too hot.
The emperor lowered his eyes, gently gathering the woman's long hair in his arms, sensing its dryness inch by inch. His expression was serious, and a dark glint appeared in his eyes.
"Madam, have the servants on the estate neglected you? Why is your hair all wet?"
Almost the instant Emperor Qian Yuan finished speaking, the servants in the courtyard knelt down, and even the chief eunuch Xu Sheng was sweating profusely as he bowed his head and knelt on the ground.
Wen Miao keenly sensed something. She stiffened, tilted her head, and looked up at the emperor—with a very indifferent and somber expression, her lips pressed tightly together, as if suppressing something, which gave off an invisible, sinister and oppressive aura.
He has no expression, but he looks very dangerous.
That is the majesty of the ruler of the world.
“No, no.” Wen Miao’s eyelashes trembled slightly, her pearly white teeth appearing and disappearing, as she insisted on repeating, “They never neglected me; it was I who told them not to serve me.”
"Does the lady dislike them?"
The emperor asked casually, but Wen Miao noticed that the shoulders of the servants kneeling in the courtyard were trembling even more violently.
This demonstrates the immense power and authority of the emperor.
She said, "It's just that I'm not used to it."
"Not used to it." Emperor Qianyuan seemed to be chewing on these three words.
His fingers dug into Wen Miao's long hair, gently massaging her scalp. A tingling and trembling sensation swept over her at the same time, making Wen Miao's lower back ache and her legs tremble slightly.
In a few hazy thoughts, Wen Miao felt as if she had never been in contact with a man like Emperor Qian Yuan, whose body temperature was so high, whose body was so broad, and who could lift her up with one hand.
Her ex-husband... probably wasn't like this, was he?
"If you're not used to it, so be it."
The emperor held Wen Miao's nape and gently massaged her temples with his fingertips, relieving the unbearable headache with each stroke.
Wen Miao was still thinking about the servant kneeling in the courtyard. She hesitated several times, but the usually perceptive Emperor Qian Yuan seemed not to notice her. In the end, she could only raise her hand and gently tug at the servant's sleeve.
He seemed to only just notice.
Wen Miao: "Your Majesty, please let them get up."
Emperor Qianyuan said calmly, "Did you hear that? Your wife is telling you to get up."
Upon hearing this, the servants in the courtyard immediately bowed to express their gratitude—not to the emperor, but to Wen Miao.
For the next period of time, Wen Miao was held in the emperor's arms, drowsy, until Zhang Ji arrived in a hurry with Physician Fang under the cover of night.
Before he could even bow, the emperor said, "Come quickly and let the lady see you."
This Imperial Physician Fang had been in the palace for many years and was a shrewd man. He lowered his eyes and did not look around. When he got closer, he saw a tall figure sitting sideways in the bed curtains. After a brief rustling sound, a wrist as white as solidified snow was stretched out.
Physician Fang carefully examined the pulse for a moment, a look of understanding flashing across his face. He said, "Madam's health is not serious. She just needs more meticulous care in her daily life. She should worry less and rest more. I will prescribe some medicine, mainly for recuperation."
In the interval between prescribing medicine, Emperor Qianyuan looked down and saw that the woman in his arms had turned her head to the side, closed her eyes, and was breathing lightly, fast asleep in his arms.
Compared to her guarded and cautious demeanor when awake, Wen Miao appeared more tender in her sleep, her brows still slightly furrowed from her previous discomfort, making her seem vulnerable and easily bullied.
The emperor reached out and gently smoothed Wen Miao's brows, then carefully placed her back on the bed. He moved quietly until he turned and walked out of the room, then looked at Physician Fang, who was following beside him with his head bowed.
Emperor Qianyuan: "How is the lady?"
The way he addressed her made it seem as if he were inquiring about his own wife's condition.
Physician Fang replied, "Your Majesty, the lady's headache is likely due to stimulation from past memories; her physical condition is not serious."
Several months ago, Physician Fang had already treated Wen Miao. However, at that time, Wen Miao suffered from both cold and fever, as well as coma and amnesia. She remained in a daze on her sickbed for a long time, and several times she had a persistent fever and incoherent ramblings.
Physician Fang almost thought the person was beyond saving, but His Majesty stayed by his side day and night, insisting on taking care of him in the imperial palace, personally attending to his every need, and providing a constant stream of precious medicinal herbs. It was only at the beginning of this year that his life was snatched back from the jaws of death.
He was physically unharmed, but had lost his memory.
At that time, Physician Fang thought that His Majesty would blame him and was prepared to accept punishment. However, the emperor, who was standing in front of the dragon bed, only bent down and gently stroked the unconscious beauty, his eyes were dark and his lips were smiling.
It was tender yet cold and damp, as if it wanted to devour people completely. When the imperial physician Fang saw it, he felt a chill run down his spine and immediately knelt on the ground, not daring to look any longer.
His Majesty looked as if he were possessed...
Right now, in the courtyard of the manor on the outskirts of Beijing, the emperor's stern face was covered by a gloomy expression, exuding an imposing aura without anger.
He asked slowly and laboredly, "So... will she regain her memories?"
Physician Fang immediately knelt down and bowed, his forehead pressed against the back of his hand, and tremblingly replied with a "Yes" that was almost swallowed by the evening breeze.
Sooner or later, it will happen...
Meanwhile, inside the bed curtains adorned with dragon patterns, Wen Miao's eyelids trembled slightly, unable to open them, yet a vague image flashed through her chaotic mind—
A woman in a white gauze dress, her skirt torn by tree branches, a man riding a horse and wearing a ghost mask, and... a vast, overwhelming snowstorm.
It's so cold.
A note from the author:
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The emperor is getting anxious. [Pity]
As I write this, I suddenly feel that our Miaomiao is like a fairy who descended to earth to bathe and play in the water, and the emperor is like a farmer who hid the fairy's feathered robe (wedding dress).
Thank you for liking it!
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