As she approached, Yan Ning could finally take a closer look at Wu Shulai's face. In just a few days, he had become much more haggard. He was the emperor's personal servant; surely it was when the emperor was haggard that he was, and when the emperor was happy that he was laughing.
Seeing his appearance, Yan Ning knew that the Emperor inside the palace must be no different from him.
She nodded and took a step toward the vermilion, openwork palace gate. The guards standing in front of the gate immediately opened it.
Inside the mausoleum, the windows that let in light and the carved doors were all draped with heavy black satin curtains. The interior was completely sealed off, yet the white banners still fluttered slightly. The underfloor heating had stopped, and the braziers, forbidding servants from attending to the emperor, glowed with a faint red light.
Yan Ning unconsciously pulled her clothes tighter. Although the spring sunshine outside the palace wasn't as warm as in summer, it still brought a gentle warmth. But inside the palace, it felt isolated from the world, shrouded in a cold and gloomy atmosphere.
She followed a glimmer of light and walked to the Empress Dowager's former bedroom.
On the short-legged table where the Empress Dowager used to rest, sat a lotus-shaped auspicious candlestick, with a slender white candle burning on it, illuminating only the Emperor's haggard side and the indistinct figure of Fukang'an. The Emperor, draped in a black cloak, sat on the same heated couch where the Empress Dowager had rested, his back slumped.
Yan Ning walked up to the two men and realized that the black cloak the Emperor was wearing belonged to Fukang'an. Fukang'an, with red-rimmed eyes, stood to the side of the Emperor. He was dressed in mourning clothes, with a black jade belt around his waist, his fierce aura from Jilin now concealed.
Having not seen her for two months, and having rushed here to mourn the Empress Dowager, Fukang'an's handsome features had hardened edges like those of a sword, and his reddened eyes made his face look even more tired.
Yan Ning felt a pang of heartache. She carefully took Fu Kang'an's hanging hand in hers. Fu Kang'an didn't turn to look at her, but simply gripped her hand tightly.
The Emperor looked at the silver hair that the Empress Dowager had lost during her lifetime, which was stored in the brocade box. He knew that Yan Ning had arrived, and he thought that he would hear the concubines' repeated advice that he should not be too sad and should not harm his health.
Half an incense stick's time had passed, and Yan Ning still stood quietly in the hall, without making a sound, as if she had never been there. The Emperor couldn't help but feel a little surprised. He turned his head and looked at Fukang'an and Yan Ning.
"You two are truly a perfect match, husband and wife, neither of you offering any advice to me, but instead watching me make a fool of myself!"
Fukang'an lowered his head and remained silent, but Yan Ning met the Emperor's reddened eyes with her own. "For the Emperor, it is Mother who has passed away. For us, it is Grandmother who has passed away. We cannot know the Emperor's sorrow, just as the Emperor cannot know the grief in our hearts."
If it weren't for Yongyan's words, she might have advised the emperor not to grieve too much. But is she still the same person who used to be a pawn for others?
After Yan Ning finished speaking, Fukang'an glanced at her, his eyes unreadable.
The Emperor gently closed the brocade box and looked directly at Fukang'an and Yan Ning, who stood side by side. "Aren't you angry with the Empress Dowager? She treated you like that?"
He knew Fukang'an wouldn't speak, so he asked Yan Ning this question. The black cloak concealed his bright yellow dragon robe, seemingly hiding his kingly aura; at this moment, he looked exactly like a lonely old man.
Yan Ning felt a pang of pity for the current Emperor. He possessed the entire realm, yet he had lost the simple joys of family life that most people could easily attain. She forced a bitter smile. "Now that I'm almost a mother myself, I can naturally understand the Empress Dowager's willingness to risk her life for her son. Similarly, doesn't the Emperor feel the same way about his own children? The Empress Dowager is acting for the Emperor's sake, and General Fucha is acting for the Emperor and the realm as well. So why should General Fucha and I be angry with each other?"
She did not bow or use respectful words. She knew that the Emperor did not want others to be respectful to him now, but wanted to fill the grief of his mother's departure with the warmth of an ordinary family.
A black satin curtain obscured the window frames, leaving only the faint light of the white candles on the lotus-shaped candlesticks. The Emperor's figure was entangled with the darkness, his silver braid standing out even more starkly. His wrinkled face remained motionless for a long time.
His hand trembled as he reached out, as if trying to convince himself. He gestured towards Fukang'an, his voice grave, "Come, tie my cloak on!"
After settling in for a moment, Fukang immediately took the order and stepped forward to tie the emperor's cloak.
Yan Ning's hand slipped from Fu Kang'an's grasp, damp, her fingers pressed together. She couldn't help but look at her own hands; only two months had passed, yet that warmth had become so distant.
The Emperor took Fukang'an's hand and, with his help, rose to his feet. "Let's go out!"
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