When Xiao Jue awoke, he felt an ache in the back of his neck, heaviness in his head, nasal congestion, and his eyes were so sticky and sore he barely wanted to open them.
His body felt heavy while his consciousness felt light, with a sensation of floating and sinking in water. Xiao Jue frowned—had he dreamed that strange dream again?
That dream had begun visiting him three years ago at irregular intervals. Whenever his emotions were stirred, his physical strength was slightly weakened, or events pulled at his thoughts, it would come uninvited. Each time after the dream, he would have back and waist pain, and sometimes the next morning he would discover stains on the hem of his clothes. He suspected he suffered from “soul separation” syndrome—that at night he would press acupoints on the night-duty eunuchs and wander out himself. Fearing this matter would be disadvantageous if known by others, Xiao Jue only ordered the Imperial Medical Academy to prepare some calming and qi-nourishing pills to take, keeping it strictly secret. At the same time, he issued death orders regarding night restrictions in Dragon Seal Palace—after nightfall, no one could disturb him, no one could walk within the palace, otherwise they would be killed without mercy.
It had been a long time since he’d had that dream—that strange nightmare of walking in blood-red seawater with tiny bright red objects flying everywhere. He thought he had recovered, never expecting that here in this imperial mountain outside the palace, in the Shanglin Garden, the nightmare would return again.
Xiao Jue lay with eyes closed, thinking. He vaguely felt that last night’s dream seemed somewhat different from before—in the dream there seemed to be chaotic sounds, and it seemed a woman’s voice and child’s voice had drifted by. However, no matter how he recalled, he couldn’t capture any clear people or objects from those confused and complex images, so he gave up in dejection.
At his nose tip he caught a faint medicinal fragrance. Xiao Jue opened his eyes and through the entire gold-inlaid carved window saw a woman in plain clothes in the corridor, head slightly lowered, carefully observing whether the medicine had finished brewing. The autumn colors of Shanglin Nunnery’s courtyard were deeply locked by red maples and parasol trees, and she was the most graceful bright note in that colorfully brilliant yet deep and desolate background—like water, like a mirror, clear and cool.
Xiao Jue slightly frowned.
Every time he saw her, he couldn’t help but look twice, seeming to feel slight joy, yet within the joy arose faint irritation, though he didn’t know what he was irritated about. But when she left his sight, he felt somewhat lost, and within that loss strangely arose relief. These interwoven and entangled strange emotions made him almost lose self-control each time, not knowing whether he wanted to pull her close for tender intimacy to be happy, or order someone to drag her out and beat her to death with clubs to satisfy his heart.
However, Qin Chang Ge wouldn’t give him the chance to have her beaten to death with clubs. She had already sensed Xiao Jue awakening and watching her, so she bent down calmly to check the medicine’s progress. When she straightened up, she had intentionally or unintentionally lightly touched the window, closing it.
With his view blocked, Xiao Jue’s vision darkened, and he suddenly felt empty inside. This feeling made him uncomfortable and he was about to get angry, but felt he had no reason to be angry. Just then, Yu Hai hurriedly entered with an imperial physician.
So the poor imperial physician very innocently became the target of displaced anger, being angrily shouted at by the Emperor: “Get out! I’m perfectly fine!” and was driven out crawling and tumbling.
Yu Hai carefully closed the door and saw Qin Chang Ge in the corridor. After thinking, he said: “Young lady, according to regulations, since it’s not being recorded, you must be given medicine. Wait here, and after returning to the palace I’ll have someone send medicine.”
Qin Chang Ge agreed. Yu Hai looked at her and said again: “Should I request another imperial decree from His Majesty…”
Yu Hai was still the same as before—loyal, honest, and cautious. Qin Chang Ge smiled and said: “His Majesty has already given me clear instructions, Eunuch. Don’t go make him unhappy again. What family’s daughter doesn’t hope to serve at the monarch’s side? It’s just that I lack that blessing.”
Yu Hai thought this made sense too. There were only those who falsely claimed to have received favor—who would lie about refusing to be recorded? His Majesty was in a bad mood, so it was better not to ask about this matter again to avoid touching his sore spot.
Just as he was about to leave, he saw the medicine on the stove had boiled and casually said: “You go serve His Majesty the medicine. His Majesty doesn’t like bitter tastes—you must use the secret nine-fermented golden thread sweet plums tribute from Huainan. Prince Zhao brought some earlier, they’re on the table in that hollowed-out small golden flower glass box.” With that, he hurriedly left.
Qin Chang Ge reluctantly brought the medicine into the room. Xiao Jue was frowning at the parasol trees outside the window in a daze. Turning to see it was her entering, he was slightly stunned, wanting to speak but stopping. Qin Chang Ge set down the medicine bowl and went to look for the sweet plums. At a glance she saw various items removed from Xiao Jue’s body placed on a gold tray—a reclining dragon pouch, brocade cord adorned with bright pearls, gold buttons and jade clasps. That exquisite small glass box was also among them. As Qin Chang Ge reached out to take it, she suddenly heard Xiao Jue’s low shout: “Don’t touch!”
Qin Chang Ge was startled. As her fingers moved slightly, she had already seen a small, somewhat worn sachet under the reclining dragon pouch, half exposed. Her finger hovered above the sachet, and before she could withdraw it, Xiao Jue angrily said again: “I told you not to touch it!”
Qin Chang Ge turned her face aside and smiled slightly.
Without touching, I also know what this is.
Rhombic-shaped, made with gold filigree and kingfisher feather inlay, on a dark green base with neither flowers nor birds but an embroidered map of the world’s mountains and rivers. Below, crystal precious stones were threaded with dark green colored silk cord. Inside were packed over thirty types of spices including angelica, calamus, agastache, eupatorium, mint, citron, magnolia, styrax, and borneol—exquisitely lovely. All sewn by her own hand, stitch by stitch.
That year in Yunzhou’s heavy snow, everywhere the snow was thick as velvet carpet, one color of crystal white without end. Plum blossoms bloomed riotously in the snow, each petal graceful and divinely beautiful. Under the white plum tree, a young woman in red fox fur cloak was clear and bright like a celestial maiden, while that young man had handsome, bright features as if painted. The gaze with which he watched her was infinitely affectionate as he suddenly reached out to catch a falling plum petal and touch it to her forehead, smiling brilliantly.
Snow-white skin and red plum—incomparably charming and beautiful. She smiled gently and handed over the brocade pouch she had embroidered amid her busy schedule.
Surprise bloomed in his eyes; her smile was fragrant as plum blossoms.
…
At this moment, Qin Chang Ge’s expression was very distant. She suddenly remembered reading history in her previous life—how after the Mawei Slope military revolt, Emperor Minghuang of Tang intended to rebury Yang Guifei, who had been hastily buried at the time. When they found the imperial consort’s remains, they discovered only white bones remained, yet the sachet at her chest still carried its dark fragrance. Later, the poet Zhang Hu wrote a poem of lament: “The imperial consort’s small embroidered pouch with wrinkled gold, the old fragrance worn away at her chest. Who could untie it again for the monarch? A lifetime’s regret bound to the heart.”
A lifetime, regret, bound to the heart.
Across lifetimes and reincarnations, seeing the old object again, watching Xiao Jue so nervous about this brocade pouch, Qin Chang Ge’s long-buried resentment surged like a dam bursting, slightly releasing a thread.
If you miss her so much, why does Ruiyi not even have a tomb?
If you loved her so deeply, why would you believe that Ruiyi would abandon you because of those conflicts and disagreements?
Her smile slightly cold, Qin Chang Ge went to take that glass box, her finger intentionally or unintentionally brushing past, and the brocade pouch fell to the ground.
A white shadow flashed like a gust of wind rolling past, the speed so fast it knocked Qin Chang Ge into a stumble. Her body leaned backward, hitting the table corner and falling back against the table, her footing unsteady as she immediately knocked over a stool.
There was a clanging sound as Xiao Jue, wearing only his inner garments, rushed over and was coincidentally tripped by the stool. Unable to control himself for a moment, he fell with a thump against Qin Chang Ge’s chest.
…
One disheveled, heavily burying his face in soft jade and warm fragrance.
One with her lower back painfully struck and unable to move, forced to have someone buried in her soft jade and warm fragrance.
Xiao Jue had aggravated the wound on his chest from the impact and was feeling dizzy. He only felt that what his face touched seemed warm, soft, and fragrant, with a familiar clear and distant penetrating scent faintly transmitted, actually making him momentarily dizzy and reluctant to leave.
This fragrance was so similar…
And Qin Chang Ge, rubbing her lower back, had intended to wait for Xiao Jue to lift his head himself, but unexpectedly he seemed quite intoxicated and didn’t rise for a long time. She couldn’t help feeling both annoyed and amused—this guy, had he really not had intimate relations with women for too long? So beastly?
Without courtesy, she extended her hand, pressing it against Xiao Jue’s forehead, and said slowly: “Your Majesty, this is not your pillow.”
…Xiao Jue opened his eyes in shock, saw her eyes, then his gaze moved downward. He stared blankly for a moment, then suddenly jumped up.
He immediately turned his head to pick up the brocade pouch from the ground, but his ears seemed to redden slightly.
With that lowered head, he didn’t see Qin Chang Ge’s slightly melancholy gaze.
Picking up the brocade pouch and carefully brushing away the dust, Xiao Jue turned his back to Qin Chang Ge, waved his hand, and said: “Go out. I don’t need you to serve.”
The woman behind him said nothing. After a moment, he heard the sound of the door gently closing. Xiao Jue turned around—behind him was empty with no one there. A slender and graceful shadow was cast on the window paper, drifting away like floating clouds.
Xiao Jue slowly tightened his grip on the brocade pouch in his hand.
Distant memories surged forth, and the familiar sweet fragrance had not yet dissipated. Xiao Jue gently sniffed his fingertips, his expression unclear. At this moment, something in the depths of his heart was also like floating clouds cast upon wave-hearts, gently rippling with flowing waves, continuously lingering.
At noon, the Emperor departed. Before leaving, Xiao Jue’s gaze swept through the crowd but didn’t see the person he wanted to see. He could only frown and say to Princess Wen Chang: “In a few days it will be the Empress Dowager’s birthday. Sister, don’t forget. Though days of quiet cultivation are good, don’t forget to walk in the mundane world sometimes.”
Wen Chang smiled slightly and said: “I remember, I’ll definitely go pay birthday respects. The flying bridge will be completed soon. When I have leisure in the future, I’ll go see Your Majesty, and it will save Your Majesty’s precious body from traveling back and forth. Although this Shanglin is an imperial garden where ordinary people cannot come, it’s ultimately not safe enough. Your Majesty, look at yesterday’s incident—I still don’t know how to explain it.”
“No need to explain,” Xiao Jue said proudly. “Don’t worry, sister. I will shoulder it all myself.”
Watching her brother for a long while, Wen Chang sighed and said: “I know… I’ve always believed in Your Majesty…” She personally helped Xiao Jue fasten his crown strings, then stepped back.
Xiao Jue looked back once more, his gaze dark and gloomy, then without further hesitation, turned and left.
His back was straight and tall, casting a long silhouette in the morning light that fell upon the mother and son in the rear courtyard.
The mother and son, lying on the windowsill gnawing walnut pastries, watched the departing figure of His Majesty the Emperor. For a long time, both sighed deeply.
One said: “Look, this person has old injuries, didn’t sleep all night, and was knocked unconscious, yet he got up early in the morning and is still so spirited. Rong Rong, you’re also a man—why are you so timid and lazy?”
One said: “I’m timid? If I’m timid, then who knocked him unconscious last night? I’m lazy? If I’m lazy, then who got up first today?”
…
After a while, one said: “Being emperor really isn’t work for humans…”
One said: “Those who do emperors are also mostly not human…”
…
Xiao Jue’s departing figure also fell upon the eyes of two people, one sitting and one standing, atop the mountain.
The sunlight on the mountaintop was thin, scattered like fallen flowers in one’s palm. All around was silent, only the sound of wind howling. After a long time, a faint low question came through the wind.
“Did you… see it?”
Silence.
The wind grew stronger and stronger, as if wanting to cut, shatter, and scatter human voices.
A very long time later, there was finally a thread of voice carried up by the wind.
“…No.”