Chapter 75: The Strings Broke at Night, the Emperor Appears in the Boudoir
The Begonia Courtyard of the Fang Mansion was completely immersed in the inky darkness of the night. Only a few silk lanterns in the corridor shone a dim glow, casting a swaying, mottled light on the blue brick floor. The evening breeze blew through the half-open carved window lattices, carrying the overly sweet fragrance of the gardenias in the courtyard and a hint of nighttime coolness. Xiaoyanzi sat alone at the zither table. A few white gardenias in full bloom were placed in a celadon vase on the desk, but their cool, subtle fragrance couldn't suppress the turmoil in her heart.
Her fingertips unconsciously brushed against the cool strings of a guqin—a guqin gifted by Emperor Qianlong a few days earlier. Its body shone with a warm luster, its priceless value evident at a glance. The image of the aquamarine palace dress and dazzling oriental pearls from the daytime, along with the massive shadow cast by the bright yellow sedan chair outside the Qipan Street noodle restaurant, tore through her mind like a ghost. She plucked the strings!
“Zheng——!”
A sharp, tearing sound suddenly erupted, a startling echo in the deadly silence of the room. Xiaoyanzi felt a sharp pain in her fingertips. Looking down, she saw a tough string had been plucked and severed. The sharp cut gleamed coldly in the moonlight. A thin thread of blood oozed from the tip of her index finger, quickly converging into a bright red bead. With a "pa" sound, it dripped onto the dark surface of the zither, leaving a small, dark, wet mark.
"Hiss..." She gasped, staring at the glaring red. A strong sense of foreboding, like a cold vine, instantly tightened around her heart. He had gifted her with this zither; yet, these strings had hurt her!
At this moment of intense heartbeat, fingertips tingling, and the dead silence of the room filled only with the lingering sound of broken strings and the cold fragrance of gardenias—
A slender and oppressive figure appeared silently at the open doorway. The moonlight sparingly outlined the outline of his dark cloud-patterned uniform. The jade belt tied around his waist made his figure stand tall and straight like a pine tree. He stepped on the cold moonlight, his steps steady and without a sound, as if the shadow of an emperor condensed from the dark night, walked straight into the room. Those deep eyes, astonishingly bright in the dim light, were like a hawk locking onto its prey, firmly fixed on her figure that was instantly stiffened by fear. His eyes swept over her bleeding fingertips, the broken strings, and the drop of blood that had not dried on the surface of the piano. The corners of his lips curled up in an arc of understanding and a bit of pity, and his low and mellow voice echoed clearly in the silent room. Every word was like a heavy hammer, hitting Xiaoyanzi's heart that suddenly stopped beating:
"My little Swallow," he began, his voice low but penetrating, "how's your practice of 'The Lotus Picking Song' going? I've been waiting in the palace to hear you play this same tune from past and present lives." He leaned forward slightly, the dark fabric of his clothes gleaming coldly in the moonlight, casting a shadow that almost completely enveloped her. "What's the matter? Are the strings too tight? Or... are you too troubled?"
Xiaoyanzi's blood seemed to freeze instantly! Her mind went blank, leaving only the words "My Xiaoyanzi" and "past and present lives" roaring wildly in her ears! He knew! He really knew everything! The fear that she had desperately suppressed, the calmness she had pretended to maintain day and night, at this moment, under his all-seeing gaze, were torn to pieces!
She felt pinned to the spot by an invisible force, unable to move. Her face was as pale as paper, her lips trembling, but no sound emanated. Only the frantic beating of her heart in her chest made her eardrums buzz. She subconsciously tried to retreat, but her feet felt rooted to the ground. She could only watch helplessly as the dark figure approached, carrying with it boundless imperial pressure and a suffocating sense of understanding.
"It seems you're upset." Qianlong stopped in front of her, close enough that she could smell the faint, clear scent of ambergris. He reached out, and with irresistible force, his broad palm gently grasped her injured, still slightly trembling wrist.
Xiaoyanzi shuddered violently, as if burned by a branding iron. She instinctively tried to break free, but her wrist was firmly grasped, the force just enough to prevent her from retreating without hurting her. The wound on her fingertip was exposed before his eyes, the bright red spot particularly glaring in the dim light.
Qianlong lowered his eyes to gaze at the small wound, his thick eyelashes casting a small shadow beneath his eyes, making his expression unclear. He pulled a bright yellow silk handkerchief from his sleeve, a small five-clawed dragon embroidered on the corner. With a touch of caution unbecoming of an emperor, he gently placed it on her bleeding fingertip.
The silk handkerchief was soft, carrying the warmth of his palm, and it covered up the stinging pain.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice a little deeper, and you couldn't tell whether he was happy or angry, but it was like a feather brushing against a taut string.
Xiaoyanzi pulled her hand away abruptly, her movement so swift that it sent a gust of wind whizzing by, sending the bright yellow handkerchief caressing the floor. She stumbled back a step, her back slamming hard against the cold edge of the piano case. The pain was raw, but it brought a glimmer of clarity to her muddled mind. She bit her lower lip until she tasted a hint of the sweet, fishy taste of rust, then managed to find her voice, a broken, sharp chorus:
"Your Majesty!" She finally called out the title, with a desperate, almost dying despair and resistance. "Your servant... Your servant does not understand what you are talking about! What past lives... What Little Swallow... Your servant is Fang Ci! Fang Ci from the Jiangnan Fang family! Your Majesty... You've got the wrong person!" Tears burst out without warning, rolling down her pale cheeks and hitting her clothes, leaving dark streaks. She shook her head desperately, the red silk ribbon loose at the end of her braid swaying wildly with her movements, like a flame about to go out in the wind. "Please... Please let your servant go... Please let the Fang family go..." Her voice ended in a helpless sob.
Qianlong watched her collapse, the subtle pity in his eyes finally overpowering the imperial scrutiny. He didn't immediately pick up the handkerchief from the ground, but simply watched her quietly, his deep gaze seeming to penetrate all her disguises, revealing the wild girl who had once climbed trees in Shufangzhai to rob bird nests and, after getting into trouble, had clung to his arm and acted coquettishly.
"Did you recognize the wrong person?" He took a step forward slowly. The moonlight finally illuminated half of his face. The silver hair on his temples was clearly visible, and his eyes were as complicated as a deep pool. "I might recognize the wrong person in the world, but I will not recognize you." His voice was not loud, but every word was clear, with unquestionable certainty. "Who was it who fell down from climbing a tree in the imperial garden, hugged my legs and shouted "Emperor, help me"? Who was it who played "The Lotus Flower" to pieces, and still said confidently that "the lotus flowers are dancing and blooming, so the song must be played dancing"? Who was punished by the Empress Dowager to copy the rules, and hid in the quilt and cried secretly, and I went to comfort you and brought you your favorite jujube and yam cake..." With every word he said, Xiaoyanzi's face turned paler and her body trembled more violently. Those fragments of memory that were deliberately sealed away and carried warmth became the sharpest knives at this moment, cutting her to pieces.
"That 'Emperor Father' in the alley, uttered so freely and with such sincerity." Qianlong's voice deepened, a barely perceptible sigh lingering. "It's an instinct etched in my bones, a mark you can't forget even if you want to. Whether you're Fang Ci or Xiaoyanzi, in my heart, you're the daughter who makes me angry and hurt, the one I owe so much."
He bent down and picked up the bright yellow handkerchief stained with her blood, his movements slow and solemn. He walked over to her, ignoring her startled steps back, and gently placed the handkerchief over her injured fingertips. This time, his gesture was both forceful and almost clumsy.
"In this life, you have parents who love you, brothers who protect you, and you've learned everything from music, chess, calligraphy, and painting better than in your previous life. Yet, you still can't hide that lively energy. The way you look at people, the way you shrink your neck after getting into trouble, even the little movements you make when you're scared, the way you clutch the corners of your clothes..." He paused, feeling the subtle trembling beneath her fingertips through the silk handkerchief. His voice slowed down, carrying a heaviness that bordered on a promise. "I know everything. Seeing you live a peaceful life in this life, I feel relieved, but also... guilty."
"Guilt?" Xiaoyanzi looked up suddenly, her tear-filled eyes meeting his deep ones. The emotions swirling in them were a complexity she had never seen before—nostalgia, tenderness, the majesty of an emperor, and even deeper, a heavy pain she couldn't fathom. The word was like a key, suddenly unlocking a locked corner in her heart.
"Yes, I feel guilty." Qianlong's voice was low and clear, and every word struck her heart. "I feel guilty for not being able to protect you in my previous life, causing you to suffer so much injustice and be displaced; I feel guilty for not recognizing Ziwei sooner, causing you and your sister to be separated; I feel guilty... In those last years, the look in your eyes when you looked at me was always filled with alienation and resentment." He closed his eyes slightly, and when he opened them again, the pain in his eyes was even more obvious. "I have lived this life again, and I don't ask for much. The country has its own destiny. I only hope... to be able to protect those I want to protect, and make up for the regrets left by my previous life."
He stared at her, his gaze as sharp as a torch, as if he wanted to see directly into her soul. "And Xiaoyanzi, you are one of the greatest regrets of my previous life. Seeing you living a stable life in the Fang family, I didn't want to disturb you. But the words 'Emperor Father' let me know that in your heart, you still recognize me. If that's the case, why do you still hide? Why would you rather guard this trembling 'stability' than return to my side and let me protect you for the rest of your life?"
"Protect me?" Xiaoyanzi seemed to have heard a huge joke. A sad and ironic smile appeared on her pale face, but her tears flowed even more fiercely. "Go back to the palace? Go back to that place where there are rules everywhere, traps everywhere, and even a smile can't be sincere?" She broke free from his grasp and pointed at the broken stringed zither on the table. Her voice was filled with tears and accusations. "Just like this string! It looks gorgeous and precious, but it hurts me! It's the same in the palace! I remember the suffering and fear of my past life! I remember it all! I remember it clearly! I don't want to be locked up in that golden cage again! I don't want to see those smiling faces hiding knives! I don't want to experience the pain of losing a loved one again!"
She cried out in one breath, the fear, grievances, and resentment accumulated over two lifetimes surging out like a flood. Her body trembled violently with excitement, and she could barely stand.
Qianlong listened quietly to her hoarse accusations without interrupting. There was no anger on his face, only a heavy calm, as if he was carrying a heavy burden. Only when she stopped panting with exhaustion did he slowly speak, his voice low and sighing:
"I know everything you fear." He glanced at her red eyes and trembling lips, "You fear the cold palace rules, the endless fighting, the constraints you can't control, and even more so... you fear bringing trouble to the Fang family and causing them to repeat the same mistakes."
Xiaoyanzi was shocked and looked at him in amazement. He could see through her deepest and most unspoken fear so clearly!
"This life is different." Qianlong's voice carried a strange soothing power, and it also contained the absolute will of an emperor. "I will not let anyone hurt you again, nor will I let anyone touch the Fang family. You are not alone in the palace. I will confer upon you the title of 'Princess Huanzhu', honoring you with royal respect. I will have Shufangzhai renovated. It was your home in your past life, and it will be your home in this life as well. There, you can do what you like, play the music you like, and you can see your parents and brothers at any time. If you want to leave the palace, just let me know, and I will allow you."
He took a step forward, close enough to feel each other's breath. The dark figure in the moonlight was like a mountain, carrying a suffocating sense of oppression, but also an unquestionable commitment.
"I'm not discussing this with you, Xiaoyanzi." He looked into her eyes, which were filled with tears, fear, and struggle. Each word was clear and slow, like a brand. "I'm telling you my decision. The fate you can't escape is also the obsession I can't escape. In this life, I want you to stay under my wings and be my most beloved daughter. I can protect the Fang family's safety, Ziwei's future, and even Liu Qing and Liu Hong's livelihood. But the prerequisite is - you must return to the palace."
The last three words resonated like thunder in Xiaoyanzi's ears. All her struggles, fears, and reluctance seemed futile before the emperor's will. She stared at the familiar yet unfamiliar face before her, the resolve in its eyes as firm as a rock, leaving no room for change.
The night wind whimpered through the courtyard, picking up a few withered crabapple petals, which swirled through the window lattice and landed on the cold ground. The fragrance of the gardenias was so rich that it was suffocating. Xiaoyanzi felt icy cold all over, as if she had fallen into a deep, icy cave. She looked into Qianlong's deep, moonlit eyes, which reflected her own miserable, desperate self, like a trapped animal.
It's over. I've been hiding for so long, running away for so long, but in the end... I can't escape.
She opened her mouth, but her throat seemed blocked, and no sound came out. Only tears silently poured down, soaking her clothes and the heart that desperately wanted to protect peace.
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