As the stars shifted in their courses and time flowed on, accompanied by another year’s melting snow, the spring of the tenth year of Zhaoping arrived as expected.

During these three years, internally, natural disasters had greatly decreased. Apart from last year’s locust plague in Shanxi and the flooding in Anhui the year before, all other regions had bountiful harvests. The annual treasury was sufficient, and for the first time, the national coffers showed a surplus.

Externally, after the northern tribes were utterly defeated in a battle three years ago and severely weakened, they still trembled at the mere mention of Pei You’an’s name. According to the treaty, they had retreated five hundred li northward and would certainly not have the capability to significantly threaten the border for at least ten years.

As for the imperial clan, just at the end of last year, the Emperor had eliminated the last prince, the Prince of Jing’an, who had been secretly reported for treasonous activities. Over the past three years, the last seven or eight princes who were considered to have the power or potential to follow in the footsteps of the Prince of Changle had successively met their ends—either committing suicide after being accused of definite or fabricated crimes or having their titles stripped and being reduced to commoners. None had met a good end. The Emperor’s determination and iron-fisted approach to suppressing the princes was evident. The remaining fortunate princes lived in constant fear, worried about bringing calamity upon themselves, and voluntarily relinquished their military forces. The court thoroughly reclaimed all elite armed forces from the princes and strictly limited their authority. From then on, first-rank officials of the court no longer needed to bow and pay respects when meeting the princes. Thus, the measures to restrict princely power that had been implemented since Emperor Xiao Lie’s ascension to the throne finally showed results in the tenth difficult year, achieving remarkable success.

The new year should have been an auspicious one, with the country prosperous and the people at peace. But just as the citizens of the capital eagerly anticipated the Lantern Festival celebrations, the atmosphere in the court suddenly turned heavy.

The sound of New Year’s firecrackers was still echoing in people’s ears when, just two days later, news spread that the Emperor might not be able to hold on much longer—perhaps it would be a matter of days.

The Emperor’s health had been declining since the Crown Prince’s rebellion and execution several years ago. In the past two years, he appeared to be like a lamp running out of oil, yet he persisted. Until a few days before the end of the year, after the news of Prince Jing’an’s execution arrived, perhaps finally allowing him to relax, it was said that the Emperor collapsed that very night.

Once he fell, despite the imperial physicians’ utmost efforts, they could no longer restore his health.

At the beginning of the year, when court officials were still on their spring holiday, this news spread. Officials like He Gongpu, Zhang Shiyong, Lu Xiang, Liu Jiushao, and others came daily to await orders at the Eastern Pavilion, where the Grand Secretariat was located. Learning that for the past several days, the Emperor had mostly been in a coma, unable to eat a single grain of rice and surviving only on medicinal juices and ginseng soup, everyone’s expression grew solemn. Without exception, they all turned to look at Pei You’an.

In the past two years, the Emperor had already handed over routine court matters to the Grand Secretariat led by Pei You’an. Besides governmental affairs, Pei You’an also personally tutored the Imperial Grandson. The Imperial Grandson greatly respected his tutor, and the relationship between teacher and student was deeply affectionate.

The Imperial Grandson was not only naturally intelligent but at his young age, his every gesture already revealed a dignified demeanor. All the civil and military officials of the court, even experienced officials like He and Zhang, dared not behave frivolously before this seven-year-old child. As for those rumors that had once quietly circulated in the court about his unsuitable origins when he was first established as the Imperial Grandson, these had long since disappeared without a trace, with no one daring to mention even half a word anymore.

Everyone knew that the old dynasty was about to pass away, and what was coming would be the era of the Imperial Grandson’s tutor, who seemingly held power over the court and his young Emperor student who needed guidance due to his minority.

Everyone knew that on the night the Emperor collapsed, Pei You’an had immediately entered the palace. The following day, the spring holiday was canceled, and every day, apart from inquiring about the Emperor’s condition, he spent the rest of his time at the Eastern Pavilion, handling affairs as usual. The Imperial Grandson and the Emperor had a close relationship; when the Emperor fell gravely ill, the Imperial Grandson was anxious and heartbroken, unable to sleep at night. Considering the Imperial Grandson’s young age and fearing that excessive grief might harm his health, and with no elder female relatives to guide him in the palace, Pei You’an, as his tutor, had brought his wife into the palace these days to temporarily care for and comfort the Imperial Grandson.

Regarding this arrangement, He, Zhang, and others naturally had no objections.

Inside the Eastern Pavilion, under the watchful eyes of several secretariat colleagues, Pei You’an remained silent, saying nothing.

He appeared no different from usual.

…

“Wheeee—”

With a sharp whistling sound, a firework rose into the night sky of the lantern market not far from the eastern outer wall of the imperial palace. It burst into brilliant flowers of color, and before one had faded, another impatiently bloomed. Gradually, fireworks filled the city, competing in splendor, illuminating the night sky of the capital on this Lantern Festival.

Since falling ill, the Emperor had not left the Hall of Chenguang for even half a step.

This palace was located in the direction of the Western Gardens of the Imperial Palace, quite far from the eastern market. But tonight, with trees of fire and silver flowers throughout the city, the distant crackling sounds of fireworks blooming in the night sky faintly drifted over the high palace walls to this place.

Li Yuangui had been keeping watch by the Emperor’s sickbed for half a month straight. Exhausted, he briefly closed his eyes on his bedroll on the floor.

The imperial physicians had just left. The Emperor had been in a coma for two consecutive days and nights, and even the life-sustaining ginseng soup had become difficult to administer today.

As the physicians withdrew, looking at the Emperor on the dragon bed who appeared to be already asleep, the fear in their eyes was palpable.

Li Yuangui looked at the bowl of medicine that was still half full, suppressed the sorrow welling up in his heart, and called for a palace servant to come forward. Just as they were about to try feeding the medicine into the Emperor’s throat, suddenly, the eyelids of the person on the sickbed twitched slightly.

“Whoosh—”

Faintly, from beyond the distant palace walls, there seemed to come another sound of fireworks.

The Emperor’s eyelids trembled more intensely.

Li Yuangui noticed this, rushed over, and urgently called, “Your Majesty.”

Xiao Lie’s eyes finally opened slowly.

“Whoosh—”

There seemed to be another sound from far away.

Xiao Lie appeared to be listening intently, and after a moment, his gaze gradually became clear.

“Your Majesty, you’re awake? Your Majesty, take your medicine! Once you take the medicine, your illness will improve!”

Li Yuangui, with tears of excitement in his eyes and a slightly trembling voice, hurriedly picked up the bowl of medicine, scooped a spoonful with a spoon, and brought it to the Emperor’s lips.

Xiao Lie seemed not to hear, remaining motionless, only continuing to listen to the sound of fireworks exploding in the distant night sky. After a long while, in a hoarse voice so weak it was barely audible, he softly asked, “Is tonight the Lantern Festival?”

“Yes. Your Majesty, you’ve been sleeping for half a month now…” Li Yuangui’s voice choked up again.

“I’ve already been sleeping for half a month…”

Xiao Lie murmured, repeating the words.

“How fast time flies… I was just dreaming of the Lantern Festival night when I was fourteen… When I woke up, she was already gone, and in the blink of an eye, more than thirty years had passed… But it’s all right, I’m about to leave too, to go find her…”

He sighed softly, impossible to tell whether from joy or sorrow.

Li Yuangui lowered his head and wiped away tears.

“Go, bring me the item from my box.”

Li Yuangui was startled, then understood. He hurried to a gold-inlaid lacquer dragon-patterned cabinet, took out a key, opened the cabinet door, took out a box from inside, removed the jade pendant stored in the box, and brought it to the sickbed, carefully placing it in the Emperor’s hand.

The cool, beautiful jade fell into Xiao Lie’s open palm. He closed his eyes, slowly curled his fingers, and finally gripped the jade tightly in his hand.

In the dream he had just moments ago, that year, he was fourteen and she was thirteen. It was also a night of trees of fire and silver flowers during the Lantern Festival. He remembered the moon rising over the willow tips as he secretly left the palace, riding a dragon horse with a silver saddle, a reckless youth. He rode his spirited horse deliberately toward that girl, crashing into her and breaking the rabbit lantern she was holding.

She naturally recognized him, having encountered him often since childhood, knowing that he relied on the Emperor’s favor and had always been reckless in the palace. Annoyed, yet constrained by their relative statuses, she dared not scold him. She merely turned away angrily, about to call her family to accompany her. He caught up with her and quickly placed in her palm the jade pendant he had carved himself, stroke by stroke, long ago—a pendant he had kept close to his body, still warm with his body heat.

She loved orchids; he knew that.

“Consider it compensation for your lantern. Take it!” he said, raising his proud chin nonchalantly, though his heart was beating wildly and his face slightly flushed.

She was quite surprised and very shy. She quickly stuffed the jade pendant back to him and turned to leave, as if it were something that might bite her.

The young prince then hung the jade pendant on a willow branch and called after her: “I’m leaving it here. If you don’t take it, so be it!”

She ignored him and walked a few steps, but then saw her family members suddenly approaching from the opposite direction. She quickly turned her head and saw that he was still standing by the willow, his gaze illuminated by the fireworks from the flowery bridge across the way, staring at her. The handsome face of the spirited young man bore an annoying smirk. Her heart pounded chaotically, fearing her family would see. She hurriedly turned around, ran to the willow tree, and snatched the dangling jade pendant, quickly hiding it in her palm.