Your Majesty?
Baili Weisheng blinked, momentarily stunned, but quickly accepted it—he’d suspected as much the whole way here. Ten years had passed; of course Xiong Xiaobao had grown up.
Ten years was plenty of time for him to mature, plenty of time to stabilize all four borders of Da Zhou.
Though leaving behind such a heavy burden back then—handing him a Da Zhou unstable both within the court and at its borders—had seemed cruel, well, no tiger father raises a dog son. He wouldn’t disappoint Jun Beiyue and Ziqing.
Ascending the throne had been expected too.
It was the matter of him taking a consort that took Baili Weisheng a moment to process.
Baili Weisheng slowly turned to look, and saw standing not far behind him a tall, finely built young man, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old, radiating youthful vigor.
He wore a pristine white brocade court robe, immaculate without a speck of dust, needing no ornaments to declare his status—his noble bearing was entirely innate.
His handsome face carried a bit more youthful leanness than Jun Beiyue’s, with sharp, defined features. The cool detachment in his brow resembled Ziqing more, while those deep, unfathomable eyes were a perfect copy of Jun Beiyue’s—impossible to ever fully read!
Baili Weisheng stared, momentarily stunned, but he still recognized at a glance—the person before him was none other than the Xiong Xiaobao of old, his precious godson.
Even having truly grown up, even having ascended the throne, Baili Weisheng still couldn’t quite accept that he’d grown up—but seeing that teary-eyed, seductive woman thrown against his chest, seeing his strong arms wrapped around her waist, Baili Weisheng finally, truly realized: the Xiong Bao of old had grown into Jun Buli.
He couldn’t help feeling a pang of sadness.
Ten years. A full ten years.
They’d missed so, so much.
But it wasn’t only Baili Weisheng who stood frozen—Jun Buli too stood stunned. Of course he recognized at a glance the man before him—this was Baili Weisheng, whom he’d chased after as a child, calling “Uncle Scholar” all day long.
He’d never expected to suddenly see him here, and even less expected that after ten years and three months, Uncle Scholar from his childhood would still look so young, not having changed one bit.
Both men stood frozen in place, while Consort Li only sobbed harder.
“Your Majesty… Your Majesty, this concubine is so pitiful! Your Majesty, I knew nothing, I didn’t mean it, wuwu… Your Majesty, you must stand up for me!”
It had to be admitted, Consort Li was a stunning beauty, and a beauty crying, so pitiful, so delicate as pear blossoms in the rain, was truly heartbreaking, heart-wrenching to behold.
Unfortunately, Baili Weisheng despised, absolutely could not stand, a woman’s crying, and his rare moment of melancholy instantly dissolved at the sound of it.
He couldn’t help but frown, his face full of disgust. “Xiong Xiaobao, it’s only been ten years—your taste has fallen this far? After hanging around with me, this scholar, for so long, you picked a crybaby like this? How’s my girl supposed to feel about that?”
The moment these words came out, Consort Li froze, her crying cutting off abruptly, staring at Baili Weisheng in disbelief.
Who exactly was this man?
Who was “his girl”?
What did she have to do with the Emperor?
Why did he dare call the Emperor “Xiong Xiaobao”?
And what relationship did he have with the Princess Consort and the others?
Was “his girl” acquainted with the Princess Consort?
Women in the palace were especially sensitive to certain matters!
Hearing all this, Consort Li clutched Jun Buli’s arm even tighter.
At Baili Weisheng’s accusation, Jun Buli’s expression suddenly darkened. “Did you bully her?”
Baili Weisheng was stunned for a moment, then said coldly, “I, this scholar, am a man of upstanding virtue—would I bully a woman?”
Listening to their exchange, watching their attitudes, Consort Li couldn’t figure out the relationship between the two men at all, and clung even tighter to the cold, distant Jun Buli, showing her fear, not daring to speak.
“Then why is she crying?” Jun Buli asked pointedly.
“Why is she crying? Ask her, why ask me?” Baili Weisheng shot back.
“You’d better make sure you haven’t touched a single hair on her head, otherwise…” Jun Buli’s eyes narrowed, and the dangerous aura radiating from him suddenly reminded Baili Weisheng of the first time he’d met Jun Beiyue.
Hearing this, the unease in Consort Li’s heart finally dissolved—she knew it, the Emperor held only her in his heart, the Emperor could never be without her!
Judging by this scholar’s identity, he must have some connection to the Princess Consort and her group.
And facing off against this scholar, the Emperor could still shield her so fiercely—surely, whatever offense she’d committed against the Princess Consort and Prince Yao just now, the Emperor would still stand by her, would still protect her!
At the thought, Consort Li couldn’t help glancing toward the bloodstains nearby. Where she’d once been paralyzed with terror, she now felt considerably more at ease.
At the thought, she clung even tighter to Jun Buli’s waist, practically melting into his embrace.
Baili Weisheng raised an eyebrow, studying Consort Li. His first impression of this woman hadn’t been good, and now he thoroughly disliked her.
Ignoring Jun Buli’s warning entirely, he raised an eyebrow. “Otherwise what?”
Jun Buli’s long, deep-set eyes narrowed further, and he said icily, word by word, “Otherwise… I…”
But before he could get past three words, his tone suddenly shifted completely. “I’ve missed you so much, Uncle Scholar!”
The provocation and tension from moments ago had simply been an unspoken joke between them. After ten years apart, they could still fall into such perfect sync—Baili Weisheng was overjoyed. All the love and protectiveness he’d once shown this child hadn’t been wasted after all!
He burst out laughing. “Xiong Bao, I, this scholar, missed you too!” As he spoke, he opened his arms wide.
The sudden shift left Consort Li stunned in Jun Buli’s embrace, and she simply let him push her aside without a trace of hesitation, watching him stride toward Baili Weisheng and pull him into a tight embrace!
A truly tight embrace, as if returning to childhood—Baili Weisheng, wracked with splitting headaches from his memory loss, once madly pounding his own head, thrashing about on the ground, while a young Jun Buli had wrapped his tiny arms tightly around his neck, as if he’d never let go.
Time had flown by. So many years now.
But that feeling still remained—the fear of losing someone.
Jun Buli buried his face in Baili Weisheng’s shoulder, and after a long moment, murmured, “Uncle Scholar, I… I… my father and mother?”
Baili Weisheng blinked, only then remembering the matter, hurriedly explaining, “Xiong Bao, there was a reason we left without a word. I know these years must have been hard on you, but you mustn’t blame your mother and father—let me explain it slowly…”
But before he could finish, Jun Buli cut him off. “Where are they?”
Baili Weisheng was about to answer when Yingzi’s excited voice came from behind them. “Young master, I finally found you! The masters are back, they’re in the main hall!”
At that instant, Baili Weisheng distinctly felt Jun Buli’s hand tremble.
A wave of bittersweet emotion surged unbidden in Baili Weisheng’s chest, and he suddenly wanted to pull the boy into a tight embrace… but Jun Buli had already let go.