Inside the Lan Yue Pavilion, the air was filled with the gentle fragrance of incense and the soft sounds of traditional music. Lian Xing, like a dodder vine clinging to a large tree, tightly entwined Xi Ling Hao in the tender embrace she had carefully woven.
She never asked for anything; the gold, silver, jewels, and silks were all gifts from Xi Linghao. Day after day, she simply played the role of the perfect confidante and companion.
While Xi Linghao reviewed memorials, she quietly ground ink and added fragrance to his writings, her slender fingers occasionally brushing against the back of his hand, bringing a cool touch. When Xi Linghao had a headache and felt irritable, she would gently massage his temples with her soft, boneless hands, her skillful technique carrying a strange soothing power. When Xi Linghao couldn't sleep at night, she would nestle beside him and softly sing the songs he loved most in his youth in her clear and ethereal voice until he fell into a deep sleep.
Every smile, every gesture, perfectly mirrored Xi Linghao's longing for his deceased beloved concubine and his yearning for youthful vitality. Beside her, Xi Linghao seemed to rediscover some of the joy of his youth, and even his chronically ill body seemed to regain some strength.
He was immersed in this regained "warmth" and his affection for Lianxing grew stronger every day, to the point that he almost obeyed her every word.
He viewed the advice of his courtiers as jealousy; his occasional moments of clarity were easily dispelled by Lianxing's perfectly timed gentle words. As the administration of state grew increasingly lax, his body, consumed by vain pleasures, was actually being hollowed out even more.
Inside Kunning Palace, Empress Lin seemed indifferent to everything outside. She spent her days peacefully resting during her pregnancy, chanting scriptures and praying to Buddha, her face radiating an almost holy maternal glow. Each time the imperial physicians reported that the imperial heir was healthy, her smile deepened. When Xi Lingche returned, she showed no excessive excitement, merely offering a perfunctory inquiry about his health and instructing him "not to wander around anymore," before focusing all her attention on the baby in her growing belly.
"Che'er," Empress Lin said, stroking her lower abdomen during a greeting, her tone filled with unprecedented "affection," "Your younger brother will need your care in the future. Those landscape paintings are ultimately just leisurely pursuits. As a prince, you should also learn to share your father's burdens." She was trying to draw her son into the situation.
Xi Lingche responded blankly, his mind already wandering to a snow scene he had just conceived: "Yes, Mother. Your Majesty, I understand. Mother, look at the snow outside the window, doesn't it resemble the blank space in Li Sixun's 'River and Pavilion Landscape'? I think..." He began to describe the painting's meaning with great enthusiasm.
Empress Lin looked at her son's naive and idealistic appearance, his mind filled with nothing but mountains and rivers. A surge of anger welled up inside her. Suppressing her rage, she waved her hand, "Fine, fine, go. Stay in the palace and don't cause trouble." She completely abandoned the idea of turning this "rotten wood" into a chess piece, placing all her hopes on the unborn child in her womb. If this child was born safely, preferably a prince… then anything was possible!
However, Empress Lin never expected that the poisoned blade she had carefully planted beside the emperor would now be quietly pointed at her son!
Xi Linghao had expended too much "energy" on Lianxing, and even with the nourishing pills prepared by Xiao Chengkang, his body was gradually becoming depleted, and he was starting to feel powerless. On the surface, Lianxing was gentle and considerate, never complaining, but deep in her eyes, the ambition she had deliberately suppressed and the resentment of unfulfilled desires grew wildly like weeds.
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