Chapter 275 Xian'er, I'm tired
The glaring black and red at the corner of Liu Simin's mouth was like a strange and desperate flower blooming on her pale, paper-white face.
Her body swayed violently, unlike her face which had turned red and purple from the poison.
On Liu Simin's face, the eyes that were originally filled with madness and hatred, in the instant that life was rapidly slipping away, strangely settled down, becoming empty and distant.
However, with a final, stubborn resentment, he stared intently at Emperor Zhaoheng's face.
"Xiao...Yiheng..."
Her voice became extremely weak, barely a whisper, as if each word had used up her last bit of strength.
Liu Simin's voice was squeezed out with difficulty from deep in her throat, accompanied by the sound of blood frothing.
"This harem...this vast harem...only me...only me, Liu Simin..."
Her eyes were unfocused, yet she stared at him stubbornly, her gaze filled with a twisted, unwavering obsession that she hadn't given up even on the verge of death.
"Only I... love you... love you as a person... not... because you are the... emperor..."
The last few words were so soft they were almost inaudible.
However, it is filled with Liu Simin's almost distorted and twisted love for Emperor Zhaoheng throughout his life.
Before she could finish speaking, the last glimmer of light in her eyes went out completely, her head tilted limply to one side, maintaining that eerie, gradually graying gaze, before she breathed her last!
Before even meeting Emperor Zhaoheng, Liu Simin had already committed suicide by poisoning herself with a poisonous herb that she had unexpectedly found growing in a dilapidated room in the Cold Palace.
She has been taking medication for many years and already has a basic understanding of pharmacology.
Liu Simin died with her eyes wide open in disbelief.
On Liu Simin's body, the dull, bright yellow imperial robes now served as her shroud.
She'd rather die inside this dress!
The courtyard fell completely silent.
Only the mournful sound of the evening wind passing through the broken windowpanes and the suppressed, desperate sobs of Consort Liu as she watched Liu Simin die before her eyes.
Emperor Zhaoheng stood there, his figure upright, but his face was covered with a layer of frost.
His deep gaze fell on Liu Simin's gradually cooling corpse, his eyes churning with complex and indescribable emotions.
There was a deep disgust for her vicious acts, indifference to the end of this farce, and perhaps, deep within the ice, a trace of pity for this once vibrant life that was so tragically cut short.
Emperor Zhaoheng closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, the clarity and decisiveness of an emperor had returned to his eyes.
"Feng Shunxiang".
"This old servant is here."
Feng Shunxiang quickly bowed, his eyes still darting to observe Emperor Zhaoheng's expression.
"Find a place and bury him."
Emperor Zhaoheng's voice was calm, devoid of any emotion, "There is no need to place her in the concubine's mausoleum, nor is there a need to erect a monument."
The fact that Emperor Zhaoheng did not abandon her in the mass grave was his final act of mercy towards her.
"yes."
Feng Shunxiang felt a chill run down his spine, knowing that the Emperor had not even granted this deposed empress the dignity she deserved in death.
Emperor Zhaoheng turned to look at Consort Liu, who was slumped on the ground and seemed to have aged instantly. His tone softened slightly, showing respect for his elder and someone who had once been kind to him.
"Your Highness, please take care of yourself. This cold palace is not a safe place. I will have people take good care of you."
Consort Liu seemed not to hear, but leaned against the arms of the concubine in the Cold Palace who was supporting her, and wept softly in the direction of Liu Simin's body.
Emperor Zhaoheng said no more, took one last look at the despair-filled courtyard of the cold palace, and strode away.
Instead of riding in the waiting imperial carriage, he walked alone with only a few personal guards, heading towards the Palace of Rites and Harmony as dusk settled in.
His steps were not as steady as usual, but rather heavy.
Liu Simin's dying screams about love and exploitation, especially her last words that Shui Xian didn't actually love him, kept echoing in his mind.
Emperor Zhaoheng knew that this was Liu Simin's counter-espionage plot; she wanted to use it to sow discord between him and Shui Xian.
However, Emperor Zhaoheng's heart still couldn't help but stir with emotion.
He walked through the many palaces.
Although Emperor Zhaoheng's heart was not at peace, seeing the warm lights coming from the direction of Lihe Palace from a great distance seemed to ease his tense nerves slightly.
Stepping through the palace gates, unlike the gloomy twilight outside, the Lihe Palace seemed to be a world of its own.
In the courtyard, several magnolia trees are in full bloom, with large, pure white buds quietly opening on the branches. Under the soft glow of the palace lanterns, they exude a delicate fragrance that is refreshing and delightful.
But even more captivating than the spring scenery is the scene in the courtyard.
Narcissus was not dressed in fine clothes, but only in a light blue spring dress.
She was holding the exquisitely beautiful Yongning in her arms, standing under a magnolia tree in full bloom.
Yongning stretched out her little hand and pointed to the newly blooming flowers on the branch, babbling softly. Narcissus then leaned down slightly, following the direction of her daughter's finger, and whispered gently in her ear, a serene smile playing on her lips.
Spring is in full bloom, beauties are as lovely as jade, and children are innocent and carefree.
This scene, serene, beautiful, and full of life, formed a stark contrast to the gloomy atmosphere of the cold palace just moments before.
Emperor Zhaoheng stopped at the palace gate. He did not call out to Shui Xian, but looked intently in the direction of Shui Xian and Yong Ning, as if he wanted to etch this warmth into his eyes.
Only the warmth from his wife and daughters could completely dispel the bone-chilling cold he had brought back from the cold palace.
Narcissus noticed his arrival, looked up, and their eyes met.
She keenly noticed the undisguised weariness between his brows and the rare dimness in his eyes.
She showed no surprise, only nodding slightly to the wet nurse beside her.
The wet nurse understood, stepped forward and carefully took Yongning, who was still somewhat reluctant, from Shuixian's arms, and gently coaxed him as she withdrew.
Shui Xian then stepped forward lightly and walked to Emperor Zhaoheng.
She didn't ask any questions immediately, nor did she say much. She simply reached out her slender hand and very naturally took off the dark cloak that seemed to still be tainted by the decaying cold of the Cold Palace, and handed it to Tinglu, who was standing to the side.
Then, she picked up a cup of hot tea that Shu'er had been keeping warm in the small kitchen and handed it to his slightly cool palm, her voice as gentle as the warmest breeze in spring.
"The Emperor is back. Please have some hot tea to warm yourself up."
Shui Xian knew that Emperor Zhaoheng had gone to the Cold Palace today to deal with the deposed empress.
She didn't say much, but used her silent and gentle actions to soothe Emperor Zhaoheng's restless heart.
Emperor Zhaoheng took the warm teacup, and the warmth from his fingertips seemed to flow through his veins, slightly dispelling the chill in his heart.
He looked down at the clear tea in his cup, the rising steam blurring his deep eyes.
Emperor Zhaoheng did not drink it; instead, he placed the tea on the tray in Tinglu's hand.
The man's eyes were deep, and when Narcissus looked over, he suddenly raised his other hand and gently lifted Narcissus's chin.
Narcissus paused slightly, then obediently raised her head to meet his gaze.
Emperor Zhaoheng's gaze was as deep as the sea, as if trying to pierce through her clear pupils and look straight into the deepest part of her soul, to find and confirm something he desperately wanted to confirm.
He gazed at her for a long time, so long that Narcissus could almost hear her own steady heartbeat and his deep breathing.
Finally, he spoke.
"Xian'er..."
He paused, and before Narcissus could react, he suddenly asked softly:
"Why...do you always call me 'Your Majesty'?"
Emperor Zhaoheng's fingertips unconsciously caressed her smooth chin, his gaze fixed on her eyes, not missing a single subtle change.
"Yiheng, yet you rarely call me by my name...?"
This problem came so suddenly.
It has nothing to do with politics or power; it only concerns the most private and intimate terms of address between men and women.
It even revealed the intense unease that quietly grew deep within the heart of this high and mighty emperor after experiencing the shock of the deposed empress's words in the cold palace.
A fleeting look of genuine astonishment flashed across Narcissus's clear eyes.
She clearly hadn't expected Emperor Zhaoheng to suddenly ask such a question.
This question seems simple, but it actually contains hidden meanings.
Narcissus's mind was racing, searching for the most appropriate and least suspicious answer.
However, just as she parted her red lips slightly, before she could figure out how to respond to this sudden probing, Emperor Zhaoheng seemed to have exhausted all his strength and abruptly released his grip on her chin.
Emperor Zhaoheng took a step forward and pressed his forehead heavily against her thin but warm shoulder, as if his entire weight was pressing down on her, bringing with it an unprecedented sense of vulnerability.
"Xian'er..."
He closed his eyes, his voice low and hoarse, filled with weariness, burying the unresolved question and his turbulent emotions deep in his heart.
"I am...too tired."
He didn't press her further, nor did he give her a chance to answer.
He simply relied on her, as if she were the only harbor where he could draw warmth amidst the boundless storms.
Narcissus felt the weight and warmth on his shoulder, listened to his weary whispers, paused her raised hand, and finally gently patted his back.
In the courtyard, the magnolias bloom quietly, their subtle fragrance wafting in the air.
Beneath the warm surface, however, seemed an unseen undercurrent silently surging between the two.
Some things have changed after all...
......
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