Taking a deep breath, he still tried to talk him out of it, but saw the emperor had already stood up. “Go bathe first, then cover for me—the Purple Dawn Hall can’t be left completely empty.”
With that, without waiting for his agreement, he went straight into the inner chamber to change.
He Chang’an wiped a hand down his face.
Being emperor meant getting to do whatever he pleased. From the sound of it, he was going out to the Hua estate, and he was expected to stay behind and cover for him?
Indeed, that was exactly Yuwen Jie’s plan. Changing into plain clothes, he took only Huo Zichong with him and left the palace with easy grace, not a shred of guilt over abandoning He Chang’an in the Purple Dawn Hall.
It had already been five days—not seeing that person felt genuinely strange. He Chang’an could help handle things too, but it just wasn’t the same. When she was in the Purple Dawn Hall, whatever he did never felt boring. But with someone else in her place, it was truly dull.
It wasn’t that he looked down on his own sworn brother—it was just that Hua Jinghua was probably a bit special, whether drooling in her sleep beside him or focused intently on writing, both revealed a kind of charm that made him feel happy.
He was probably just not thinking straight lately.
“Your Majesty.” Huo Zichong called out to him, his expression strange.
Yuwen Jie turned to look at him. “What is it?”
“Are you sure you want to enter the Hua estate this way?”
“What’s wrong with it?” The emperor looked at him with a serious expression. “It’s already dark.”
It was indeed dark, Huo Zichong pressed his lips together, but there was no need to climb the wall!
The reigning emperor! Even in disguise, hanging on someone’s wall like this—was that appropriate?!
“Could we go through the front gate?” he asked.
Yuwen Jie scaled the courtyard wall with agile skill, saying in a low voice, “I only want to see one person, not a crowd of people kneeling in salute. Understand?”
Fine, Huo Zichong nodded, watching with his own eyes as history was made—the emperor climbing a wall.
Both men were highly skilled, and they made their way all the way to the courtyard where Hua Jinghua stayed without alerting a single soul.
Hua Chun had handed things over to Qing Niao and had just returned to her room, exhausted, intending to sleep, when someone suddenly covered her mouth from behind.
“Mmph!” Her wolf-defense reflexes activated automatically, and Hua Chun kicked hard at the person behind her, elbow thrusting back as well.
The person behind her, however, seemed built of iron—not the slightest bit hurt, while she’d only managed to hurt her own elbow from the impact.
“Still got some strength in you.” The person behind her said flatly.
Hua Chun froze, a wave of familiarity rising in her chest. Her mouth was released, and she turned around—sure enough, it was the emperor, his eyes gleaming faintly even in the dark, the lines of his face elegant.
“Why are you here?” She was startled, looking him up and down before moving to light a lamp.
“I happened to be passing by, so I came to take a look,” he said. Reaching out to take her hand, Yuwen Jie said in a low voice, “With the Prime Minister absent, I’m practically being buried under a mountain of memorials.”
Lying with a completely straight face—how could passing by take him from the palace all the way to the Hua estate? And besides, it was clearly Marquis Gongyu who was being buried under that mountain!
None of this was known to Hua Chun, however; she simply assumed the emperor was out looking for pleasure and had happened to stop by.
“Once Mother has recovered a bit more, this official will return to court to share Your Majesty’s burdens,” she said dutifully.
“Mm.” The emperor acknowledged this, sitting down at her bedside quite naturally, and asked, “Is the imperial physician still at the estate? What does he say?”
Hua Chun sighed. “Mother’s illness is hard to resolve, tangled up with worry on top of her pre-existing condition, so it’s rather tricky.”
“There happens to be a thousand-year ginseng root in the palace, the most precious material in the imperial pharmacy,” the emperor said. “Unfortunately, it can’t easily be gifted away—the Empress Dowager sometimes needs some of the root herself too.”
Her eyes lit up, and Hua Chun immediately leaned in closer, hands clasped together as she looked at him. “Even just the root of a thousand-year ginseng would be wonderful.”
Her tone dripped with flattery, her intent utterly transparent.
The emperor pretended not to understand. “Is that so.”
Hua Chun smiled ingratiatingly at him, reaching out to massage his legs. “Considering this official has stayed up countless nights working tirelessly for Your Majesty, might Your Majesty grant me some?”
Glancing sideways at her, Yuwen Jie kept a straight face. “I threw out my back while out of the palace—it still hurts.”
Hua Chun: “…”
What did that mean? Treating her as his free masseuse? Was she really the type to so easily bow to such shameless coercion?
Well, yes, she was.
“If Your Majesty doesn’t mind, just lie down.” She said with a bright smile. “This official will give you a rub.”
Yuwen Jie nodded and stretched out his long legs, lying face-down on her bed.
The quilt and pillow were full of a scent that wasn’t hers. The emperor frowned slightly. “You share a bed with Qing Niao?”
Why wouldn’t she? Hua Chun said matter-of-factly, “This courtyard isn’t large, and there are few rooms. Besides, Qing Niao and I are husband and wife—of course we share a bed.”
So had she really not noticed anything, then? The emperor fell silent.
A comfortable pressure moved across his back; he narrowed his eyes, his body relaxing.
Hua Jinghua was a clever person—some matters probably didn’t need him worrying over them. Besides, he was the one who most ought to be holding her accountable—why was he the one worrying about her instead?
“Harder.”
Hearing those two words, Hua Chun took a deep breath and slammed her fist down onto the emperor’s back, the thud startling even herself.
“Your… Your Majesty?”
Did that count as harming the imperial person?
“Keep going.” Yuwen Jie yawned and closed his eyes.
Hua Chun was exhausted—she’d spent the whole day looking after Wan Shi, and hadn’t expected to be put through this on top of it. She focused and massaged him for the time it took three sticks of incense to burn, before she couldn’t hold on any longer, eyelids drooping, and simply leaned against the bedside with her eyes closed, one hand still weakly continuing to pound his back.
By the time her hand finally dropped and couldn’t lift again, Yuwen Jie reached over, gathered her whole body up onto the bed, and wrapped her gently in his arms.
Hua Chun slept like the dead, even letting out a faint snore.
The emperor lowered his head, studying her for a long while, then closed his eyes and fell asleep alongside her.
Outside the door, Huo Zichong was on the verge of collapse.
His Majesty had said he was leaving the palace, sure, but he’d never said anything about staying the night outside! And this was the Hua estate—they’d even climbed the wall to get in—where on earth did his master get the nerve to just settle down and sleep here?!
If someone came by, what was he supposed to do?
Gritting his teeth, he stood guard in the shadows, unable to close his eyes all night, his heart hanging the entire time and never settling.
Fortunately, at the fourth watch, the emperor got up and, with perfect composure, left the Hua estate with him and returned to the palace.
When Hua Chun woke in the morning, she looked around—only she was in the room.
“Don’t tell me I was dreaming?” Recalling seeing Yuwen Jie the night before, she pursed her lips—it must have been some kind of erotic dream; how would the emperor come to her place in the middle of the night without a sound?
Getting up to change, Pin Tan came in with water to attend her, glanced at the table, and asked curiously, “What’s this?”
Hua Chun followed her gaze and saw a red brocade box sitting on the table. She opened it to find a ginseng root—only a small piece, but with an unusually rich scent.
“This…” Pin Tan’s eyes lit up. “Madam was just saying she didn’t know where to find good ginseng—who knew we’d have some right in our own room! This root is even better than the old ginseng bought from the pharmacy!”
Hua Chun’s expression turned complicated.
So last night hadn’t been a dream after all—Yuwen Jie really had come.
Her heart inexplicably warmed. Even though that shameless man had also exploited her labor, he was the one who’d brought the ginseng root along—meaning he’d already planned to give it to her, and had only been teasing her a bit.
The emperor really was a good man.
Bowing toward the sky in gratitude, Hua Chun had Pin Tan take the ginseng root to prepare the medicine.
Having searched for so many days with no results, Hua Chun could only comfort Wan Shi: “If we can’t find her, no one else will be able to either. Better to just wait and see what she’s actually planning to do coming back to the capital.”
Wan Shi looked at her, face pale. “This mother is truly worried…”
“If it’s fortune, it won’t be a disaster; if it’s a disaster, it can’t be avoided,” Hua Chun said. “Try to think of it more positively. If it really comes to it, you could go back home for a while to recover.”
“Would you come back home with me?” Wan Shi frowned.
Hua Chun shook her head. “It’ll soon be time for foreign envoys to arrive in the capital to present tribute. Your son can’t leave.”
Wan Shi fell silent, hesitating for a long while before saying, “All right, then. I’ll go back home first to recuperate.”
This illness wouldn’t be cured anytime soon, and staying here would only keep delaying Hua’er’s affairs—better that she leave.
“Your son will have people arrange it.” Patting her hand, Hua Chun turned and left the room.
That afternoon, Yuwen Jie once again saw the figure of Prime Minister Hua in the palace.
“You’ve had a hard time of it, Marquis.” The moment Hua Chun entered, she made herself at home sitting beside He Chang’an, intending to help share the workload.
“How is your mother’s illness?”
Seeing her, He Chang’an frowned. “The Prime Minister has grown thinner.”
Delighted, Hua Chun said, “Really? No need to bother with dieting now, then!”
“Like a stick of firewood,” the emperor said flatly.
Waving a hand and smiling, Hua Chun said, “Mother’s illness has improved somewhat, but she still needs care, so I’ve already sent people to escort her back home to recuperate.”
“That’s good too.” He Chang’an nodded. “It’ll soon be the end of the month when the foreign envoys come to court—we should put more effort into preparations too.”
Hua Chun nodded, and had just picked up a memorial from the desk to read when she heard the emperor say, “Come here.”
Startled, she looked up and pointed blankly at her own nose. “Me?”
Yuwen Jie nodded.
Hurrying over, Hua Chun approached him respectfully and asked, “What are Your Majesty’s instructions?”
“Look through these—no need to fight over Chang’an’s share.” The emperor handed her a stack of memorials. “Sit down.”
“…Yes.” Hua Chun immediately sat down beside the emperor, obediently taking the memorials to read.
He Chang’an looked up at the emperor, then glanced at the seat beside him, his brow furrowing slightly.
“Your Majesty.” Before long, Eunuch Qin came in to report. “Consort Shu has brought tea and is waiting outside.”
“Let her in,” the emperor said.
Normally the Purple Dawn Hall didn’t accept consorts bringing in soup or tea, but since Consort Shu was from the Hua family, the emperor presumably let it go for the Prime Minister’s sake.
Hua Xunyue entered and curtsied, smiling as she said, “Knowing Elder Brother was here too, Xunyue specially prepared the pu’er you love most, Elder Brother.”
“You’ve shown real thoughtfulness.” The emperor said. “Just set it down.”
“This concubine obeys.” Hua Xunyue placed the tea by Hua Chun’s hand, then said quietly, “I heard Elder Brother sent Mother away?”