Hua Chun’s eyes brightened, and she grabbed his sleeve, walking outside with him. The sky outside was overcast, as if snow were coming. The emperor, all the way there, spoke to her lightly and easily about the campaign at Qiu Mountain, sneaking glances at her expression from the corner of his eye.
“I’m glad you’re alright.” Hua Chun said. “The Battle of Qiu Mountain should have dealt Prince Xi a severe blow — by the time he returns to the capital, he shouldn’t have the confidence to rebel anymore.”
“Mn.” Yuwen Jie said. “So we can relax for a while.”
“Right, haha.” Hua Chun smiled, the corners of her mouth stretching, but her eyes remained rather dim.
His heart tightened slightly. The emperor reached out and pulled her into his embrace, thought for a moment, and said, “Hold onto my waist tightly.”
“Huh?” Hua Chun instinctively complied, just about to ask what he meant to do in broad daylight like this, when her arm was suddenly gripped tight, and her body was swept forward, floating.
He Chang’an always said the emperor’s martial skill wasn’t weak, but Hua Chun had never seen it, so she had no direct impression of it. This time counted as her first real experience — turns out this world truly did have lightness skill.
Only, unlike being suspended in the air on wires, the emperor’s lightness skill was more like parkour — just with a far more graceful and dashing posture — one arm holding her, using the ground and the nearby stone lanterns for leverage, running faster than a carriage.
“Aaahhh!” The wind whipped so hard she couldn’t keep her eyes open, and Hua Chun cried out excitedly twice, pulling her feet back and letting her whole body dangle against the emperor, her skirt hem tracing a particularly beautiful arc through the air.
Despite her weight, the emperor was entirely unaffected, his arm supporting her powerfully, ignoring the screams of the palace attendants all around, heading straight for the palace gate.
This feeling was uncannily like eloping — thrilling and exciting, instantly capturing all of Hua Chun’s attention. Behind them a group of guards and attendants gave chase. Yuwen Jie’s eyes were resolute, switching her to his other arm midair, his well-defined jaw brushing against her cheek before he gently kissed her forehead.
Hua Chun was stunned, her heart warming slightly at it.
He was a man of few words, so he could only comfort her in roundabout ways like this.
Forgoing even the carriage, he carried her in a mad dash, neither of them having changed out of their dragon robe or palace attire, startling the people on the streets who all turned to look. Hua Chun buried her face in his chest, while the emperor paid it no mind at all — at this speed, no one could see clearly anyway.
After running for who knew how long, hearing the emperor’s heavy breathing, Hua Chun looked up and said, “Let’s walk slowly — the guards can’t keep up anymore.”
“I’m afraid we won’t make it in time,” the emperor said in a low voice. “The situation is urgent — they’re about to send your mother out of the capital right away.”
Her body stiffened slightly. Hua Chun looked earnestly at his face, at his eyes fixed straight ahead, and couldn’t help but feel her eyes redden again.
“Mn… alright, let’s hurry over.”
The emperor nodded, switched arms holding her again, and continued running forward.
The Yanjing Canal dock neighbored Zhengdu Tavern and was some distance from the palace. By the time the two of them arrived, there was no sign of Wan Shi — only a painted pleasure boat slowly moving off into the distance, on whose railing sat a woman dressed in festive red-and-yellow brocade, her hair full of pearl and jade ornaments, facing forward toward the bow, seeming to look forward to this journey with great anticipation.
Hua Chun’s eyes widened. Her eyesight was excellent, and she recognized that back — it truly was Wan Shi, no mistake.
“Mother—” Standing on the dock, Hua Chun called out with all her strength.
But whether it was because the wind was too strong, or because the pleasure boat had drifted too far already, the figure didn’t turn back to look at her.
“Still couldn’t catch up in time.” The emperor pressed his lips together. “Well, never mind then. Just see her off with your eyes as she leaves the capital — if we actually went after her, it would only cause trouble.”
Hua Chun stood stunned for a good while, then sank down onto the dock, choking back sobs a couple of times, and still couldn’t help herself, crying again.
“Hey.” The emperor frowned. “I always thought you weren’t one to cry easily, yet these past two days your eyes have nearly cried themselves swollen shut.”
Hua Chun cried and nodded at the same time, watching the pleasure boat on the river gradually disappear from sight, her throat too sore with pain to speak.
It’s fine now, Wan Shi is fine. The emperor said she’s fine, so she’d just consider her completely unharmed — no need to dwell on how, with an injury to her hip, she could be sitting so steadily like that.
“Let me cry a bit longer,” Hua Chun said, her voice hoarse. “Just a bit longer.”
The attendants behind them had all caught up, surrounding them to block off curious onlookers, but there were still quite a few people craning their necks to look over this way.
“Look, look, is that His Majesty?”
“It must be! Only our emperor could carry himself with such presence — look at that posture, that aura!”
The crowd murmured among themselves. “The emperor’s dignity truly cannot be trifled with — even at this distance we can feel that stern presence…”
Before they could finish, through the layers of attendants, the emperor was seen slowly crouching down, his dragon robe trailing on the ground, reaching out to gently wipe away the tear tracks on the woman’s face beside him, then pulling her disheveled cloak back over her shoulders, wrapping her up warmly.
The bustling crowd around them fell dead silent in an instant.
Watching the emperor’s face — usually utterly expressionless — capable of such tenderness after all, was unexpected. Rumor in the streets had always said the current Emperor was cold-blooded and merciless, tyrannical and without principle. Seems the rumors weren’t accurate after all…
Hua Chun cried with her head down for a good while, then took a deep breath and said, “Alright, this consort has composed herself. Let’s return to the palace. Since Mother has left, then it’s time to settle grudges and grievances alike.”
Yuwen Jie was slightly startled, his gaze somewhat complicated, and he closed his eyes and said, “Mn.”
The emperor was Hua Chun’s greatest source of confidence — otherwise, no matter how much cleverness she had, without someone backing her up, she’d be no match for the pressure of those in power. Earlier, with the emperor away, she’d had no way to deal with the Empress Dowager, Noble Consort Wu, and the whole group in the back palace. But now that the emperor had returned, it was time to settle the full account.
News that the emperor had accompanied Consort De out of the palace had only just spread through the palace when the two of them had already returned. Hua Chun’s body still felt somewhat unwell, perhaps from catching a chill, but she paid it no mind, pulling the emperor along to pay respects to the Empress Dowager first.
The Empress Dowager’s expression wasn’t good, presumably still holding onto yesterday’s grudge. Hua Chun smiled as she finished her bow, then turned to look at Noble Consort Xu and said, “Quite the full house here today, how fitting. Noble Consort Xu said that what’s in this consort’s belly might not be the imperial heir — now seems as good a time as any to see what the truth actually is.”
Consort Shu, Tang Shi and the others were all present as well — after all, it had been a long while since anyone had seen the emperor, so everyone who could come today had come. Noble Consort Wu was seated off to the side too.
Consort De had always given the impression of being gentle, without any aggressiveness — when others provoked her, she generally avoided confrontation. So hearing this pointedly targeted remark so suddenly, Noble Consort Xu was momentarily caught off guard.
The emperor’s expression darkened slightly. He glanced at Noble Consort Xu, then turned to the Empress Dowager and said, “What Consort De carries is indeed this son’s own flesh and blood — of this, this son is most certain. The absence of a bedding record in the Imperial Household Department was arranged by this son himself, precisely out of fear that too much favor shown would bring trouble upon Consort De. This son thought that keeping to a quiet corner would spare the Hua family some hardship, yet even after conceiving the imperial heir, she still had to endure slander.”