Chapter 52: Cherished Child

Chapter 52: Cherished Child

Gongye Chu knew he was dreaming, yet the scene and the chamber were eerily familiar. The other "him" maintained the same position from the previous dream, with a woman in his arms, seemingly asleep.

Her delicate, ethereal beauty resembled a flower that had just wilted, devoid of any vitality. Her once vibrant hues had faded, carrying the sorrow of a prime bloom forced to fade prematurely.

"He" held her tightly, tenderly grooming her hair and makeup as if afraid of hurting or awakening her.

Her face was pale, lifeless for quite some time now.

With slender fingers, "he" caressed her face, from her brows to the corners of her lips, as one would handle a precious treasure. "He" wore an expression without joy or sorrow, his eyes reflecting an unusual tenderness.

He watched "he" place a kiss on her lips and heard "his" monotonous whisper.

"You said you would not regret meeting me in this life, across three lifetimes. You wished to be with me eternally, so why did you leave me so soon? You were right, we will meet again. Don't be afraid, I'll come to keep you company soon..."

"He" was prepared to die!

He was utterly shocked, desperate to stop "him." But "he" couldn't see him, continuing to murmur softly to the deceased woman. His voice was gentle and soft, tinged with a hint of sobs.

The wail of an infant echoed from outside, and he keenly felt the piercing pain in his heart. "He" held her in his arms, lying on the bed without eating or drinking, just like that.

He witnessed the alternation of day and night through the window, unaware that several days and nights had passed. No one dared to enter until someone forcefully pushed their way in, cradling a swaddled baby.

It was Liu Ze.

Kneeling on the ground, Liu Ze wept and pleaded with "him" to prioritize the prosperity of the kingdom and the welfare of the newly-born crown prince. He begged "him" not to abandon the child. "Your Majesty, if Empress knew you were going to join her, she would never forgive you. Even though the journey to the underworld is long, I believe she wouldn't want you to leave the young prince behind. The little prince is the child the Empress risked her life to bring into this world. Can you truly bear to leave him without a father or mother?"

A glimmer of emotion finally touched the coldness of "his" face as "he" gazed upon the infant swaddled in cloth.

Liu Ze implored "him" to give the woman a proper burial, explaining that, with the current bitter cold, her body would remain preserved for now. But after a few more days, the empress's remains would begin to decay.

"Furious," "he" drew "his" sword, intent on slaying Liu Ze.

Displaying profound sorrow, Liu Ze fearlessly met "his" murderous intent. He argued that the empress had always cherished cleanliness, and it would break her heart to know that her body would slowly rot after her death.

The child in the swaddling clothes began to cry, and Liu Ze wept alongside.

He gazed at the child with closed eyes, filled with pain.

Liu Ze seized the opportunity to place the infant into his arms. He looked at the woman on the bed and then fixed his gaze upon the child in his hands. Despite not a single tear rolling down his cheeks, it seemed as though his heart was weeping profusely.

In the end, he didn't seek death nor bury the woman. Instead, he instructed that an ice chamber be constructed within his private quarters, where the woman was placed.

He witnessed how "he" slept on the icy bed alongside her each night. He saw how "he" would whisper softly to her after returning from court every day. Occasionally, "he" would bring in a child to visit her, instructing the child to call her 'mother.'

In the stillness of the night, he could hear "him" weeping. "He" was calling out a name.

"Xier, Xier."

A shiver ran down Pei Yuanxi's spine. Whose name was he calling?

Was it Xier or Xi'er?

She had never imagined that she would one day witness him asleep. His sleeping form was a delight to behold, devoid of his usual malevolence and indifference. It accentuated his noble and handsome features, making it hard to reconcile this image with the fearsome and ruthless powerbroker he was known to be.

The world trembled at his bloodthirsty ruthlessness; few dared to meet his gaze directly. Yet, his face, so strikingly beautiful, now lacked the cold detachment that kept people at bay, and there was none of the reckless savagery that led to instant slaughter at the slightest provocation.

She didn't dare to move or descend from the carriage.

Not until he began murmuring in his sleep.

Shangxing had hinted that they would be husband and wife in the future, so what could he have dreamt about? Was it related to her? Why was he calling out for Xier? Was she this Xier?

Confusion swirled in her mind, but on the surface, she maintained a cautious expression.

Gongye Chu slowly opened his eyes, still feeling the sorrow from his dream. The cold woman in his dream overlapped with the lively maiden before him. His head throbbed, leaving him momentarily disoriented.

He had never believed in ghosts or gods, nor in reincarnation. However, after repeatedly having these dreams, he couldn't dismiss them as mere coincidences or absurdities.

Perhaps there truly was a past life where, according to the young emperor, he and the maiden before him were a married couple. The deeply affectionate man in his dreams was both him and not him, his gaze unpredictable.

"My lord, it's already late. My parents must be worried that I haven't returned home yet."

He furrowed his brows, a silent consent.

She promptly rose, unaware that her knees were numb from sitting too long. Losing her balance, she leaned to one side, then felt herself falling into Gongye Chu's embrace.

Gongye Chu caught her purely out of instinct, the image of her in his embrace flashing before his eyes like a dream. He held her this way, his heart as cold as still water.

Her legs were indeed numb, and despite her struggles, she couldn't free herself from his grasp. Unperturbed, he even seemed to tighten his hold on her, causing her to feel a chill of fear.

"My Lord..."

In her dreams, she called him A Chu.

He gradually released her, using his arm to support her as she regained her balance. Impatient for her limbs to regain sensation, she hastily stepped down from the carriage. Her legs were still numb, and with each step, she felt as if she might collapse.

At this hour, the music shop, Shangxing, had already closed its doors for the day. She had instructed Chunyue before she left. Without mentioning Gongye Chu's visit, Chunyue assumed it was about Shangxing. She didn't offer any clarification.

Pei Yuanruo was escorted back by Hong Baozhu, with Chunyue and the Marquis's carriage awaiting her return. Chunyue, having surmised that the lady had not met with His Majesty, hurried to assist her into the carriage.

The carriage wheels creaked into motion as she leaned against the cushion, taking deep breaths. Why did it have to be Gongye Chu? She truly couldn't comprehend her past self from another lifetime, wondering where her judgment had faltered in ending up with him.

Outside the waterside pavilion, there stood a figure, pacing in anticipation of her arrival.

She felt a touch of surprise, for it was Aunt Zhao.

Aunt Zhao had heard about the events at the music salon today and was well aware that her daughter had gained immense prestige. Yuan Ruo had some reputation for her talents before, but those were merely whispers within the inner chambers, praising her proficiency in music and her scholarly demeanor – qualities that could be found in any noble household.

She'd heard that ten compositions were credited to Yuan Ruo.

As Yuan Ruo's mother, she knew her daughter's abilities all too well. Yuan Ruo definitely didn't possess such talent. If she did, Aunt Zhao, as her stepmother, would have noticed long ago. Thus, she understood that it was the Second Miss who was lending her daughter glory.

A woman of great accomplishments.

This was no ordinary lady; with such fame, what need would Yuan Ruo have to worry about her marriage prospects? In even bolder terms, an admired woman wouldn't have to bow to her husband's family or rely on a man's favor to live.

Being a concubine herself, she was familiar with the hardships faced by women in the inner chambers. She wished for Yuan Ruo to marry into a high-ranking family, hoping that her daughter would have the strength to stand tall.

Upon Yuan Ruo's return, Aunt Zhao sensed a change in her daughter. The gloominess that once plagued her seemed to have vanished, replaced by a radiance that Aunt Zhao had never seen in Yuan Ruo before.

"Second Miss, please allow me to pay my respects."

She moved to kneel, but Pei Yuanxi quickly supported her, "There's no need for that, Aunt Zhao."

"I insist," Aunt Zhao bent her knees, "Second Miss's efforts for Yuan Ruo are deeply appreciated."

"Eldest Sister's skill with the zither is exceptional; I merely added a flower to an already beautiful brocade. Aunt needn't trouble herself with such a deep bow," Pei Yuanxi said, once more supporting her. "In my former days of foolishness, Eldest Sister never looked down on me. As sisters, it is only right that we support one another."

Aunt Zhao's expression flickered slightly. She had once pitied this child and assumed that he would spend his life in a state of confusion. Little did she expect that not only had the child regained consciousness, but he also retained memories of the events that transpired during his time of foolishness.

She felt a sense of relief, grateful that she had not transferred her resentment towards her former lady onto the second miss back then.

As the ancients put it, performing good deeds accumulates virtue, and indeed, it brings abundant blessings. This is truly a profound truth.

"Second Miss is known for your kindness, and I shall bear that in my heart. The affection between you and your elder sister is truly touching, a sight that brings me great joy. Recently, I've heard a piece of gossip, unsure if it's true or not. Allow me to share it with you, Second Miss."

Pei Yuanxi focused her attention, knowing that whatever Aunt Zhao was about to share was no trivial matter.

The matter involved Aunt Qiu. Previously, Aunt Qiu had insisted with certainty that she was carrying a male child and even wished to register it under Madam Shen's name. After being refused, Aunt Qiu had been relatively well-behaved for a while.

But someone like Aunt Qiu could never truly be subdued; her obedience was only superficial. According to Aunt Zhao, Aunt Qiu had somehow obtained an unconventional remedy and was secretly consuming it daily in her quarters.

This remedy had a straightforward name in folk tradition: the Turn-the-Fetus Pill.

"Anciently, this recipe has crossed my ears, and it doesn't seem to be something beneficial," Aunt Zhao shared. "Aunt Qiu is so desperate for a son that she might be taking extreme measures."

However, Pei Yuanxi inferred several layers of meaning from her words. First, Aunt Qiu had been consuming the substance for quite some time. Second, it seemed to have affected the child in her womb. Aunt Zhao couldn't have just found out about this recently; she must have known about it much earlier.

Among the concubines in Marquis Xuanping's residence, Pei Yuanxi had never underestimated Aunt Zhao. She indeed didn't compete or vie for attention, but that was because she didn't need to.

Nonetheless, her nonchalant attitude didn't mean she was oblivious. In terms of cunning and scheming, she surpassed Yuanxi's mother by leaps and bounds. If Aunt Zhao wanted to deal with her mother, her mother would stand no chance.

She revealed Aunt Qiu's matter to Yuanxi today as a favor in return.

"Thank you for informing me. Since it concerns Father's offspring, I'll relay this matter to him."

This was the inner residence of Marquis Xuanping, and Aunt Qiu was one of his concubines. No matter how much Pei Yuanxi wanted to intervene, she knew that it should be Father who stepped forward in such a situation.

Aunt Zhao's expression showed regret as she said, "Marquis doesn't have many descendants. If he finds out, he'll surely be furious."

"It's rightful for Father to be angry," Pei Yuanxi replied, looking at her gratefully. "Thankfully, you informed me of this. Otherwise, I'd really be worried that Aunt Qiu might use this to frame my mother."

"I can finally understand why Marquis always praises Second Miss. I should've thought of this earlier. Madam is truly blessed to have a daughter like you." She spoke softly, her gaze filled with affection as if she were looking at her own child.

Pei Yuanxi sighed emotionally, "My mother has a kind heart, which is precisely why she gets taken advantage of by those around her. She isn't a scheming person; otherwise, she wouldn't be in this situation now. We were forcibly separated for fifteen years, during which many things have changed. Perhaps we can't be as close as other mothers and daughters, but I still wish for her safety and happiness. If anyone tries to harm or scheme against her again, I won't tolerate it."

Aunt Zhao seemed taken aback by the words. Then, her eyes gradually filled with envy as she expressed genuine admiration, "Second Miss's filial piety moves heaven and earth. I truly envy Lady's good fortune. My heart is small, capable of holding only my own two children."

Her implication was clear: Marquis Xuanping did not occupy a place in her heart.

Their conversation appeared casual but subtly revealed each other's bottom lines. Pei Yuanxi's boundary was her parents, while Aunt Zhao's was Pei Ji and Pei Yuanruo.

From this, it seemed that there was no conflict between them.

"It's getting late. Aunt, you should return and rest early."

Aunt Zhao wished her well and took her leave.

She didn't enter the waterside pavilion but instead turned towards Xuanting Courtyard. Marquis Xuanping spent the night in Shen's chambers tonight. Neither of them had slept, waiting for her return.

Although they had already sent word that she didn't need to come and pay respects if it was too late, Shen was still delighted to see her. Amidst her joy, there was also a hint of concern as she repeatedly asked if she had eaten or if she was tired.

After answering these questions, Pei Yuanxi lowered her gaze and directly brought up the matter regarding Aunt Qiu. She mentioned that she had learned of it unintentionally, without revealing Aunt Zhao's involvement.

Upon hearing this, Marquis Xuanping's face darkened, and he stormed out in a rage.

Left alone with her daughter, they found themselves at a loss for words. Madam Shen yearned to reconnect with her child but could only manage a few tepid inquiries. It was true that she felt pained, but self-reproach weighed more heavily on her heart.

Struggling to initiate conversation, she asked Pei Yuanxi if she needed more silver or had any plans for a business venture. She longed for her daughter to request financial assistance, but Yuanxi never brought up the topic.

With each passing day, Madam Shen's clarity increased, and her understanding deepened. It was precisely this newfound lucidity that fueled her mounting guilt.

Reflecting on recent events, she suddenly realized that it was her daughter who was shielding her. Whether exposing Rulan's facade or revealing Ping Zhen's true nature, every act seemed designed to protect her.

Yuanjun had been nurtured under her care for fifteen years, cherished like a precious gem in the palm of her hand. Yet, hearing the servants' daily reports, her disappointment grew by the day. Ultimately, Yuanjun's roots proved unhealthy, capable of perpetrating the unforgivable act of abusing her birth mother.

Thinking of Aunt Qiu, she felt a sense of melancholy for the other's lack of perspective. Jige had already grown up, so what if the Marquis's household were to have another son from a concubine? Whether it's a son or a daughter, they are still one's own flesh and blood—how could one consume those sorts of medicines?

"Recently, she has been visiting me daily to pay her respects and consistently mentioned that she is carrying a son in her womb. I had assumed her pregnancy was secure, yet it seems I was mistaken about her consuming such substances."

"Does she pay her respects to you every day?" Pei Yuanxi's gaze turned slightly cold, as if she had just thought of something.

Madam Shen paused at her question, then placed a hand over her heart. It pounded fiercely, indicating that she had also guessed Aunt Qiu's intention. It seemed likely that the child in Aunt Qiu's womb was in peril, and thus she was goading Madam Shen with words to cast suspicion upon her.

Fortunately, Yuanxi's timely reminder saved the day; otherwise, there would have been no recourse for such an unjust silence.

Before long, Marquis Xuanping's messenger came to request Madam Shen's presence, stating that Aunt Qiu's unborn child had already been deceased for two days. The midwife would now be summoned to induce the birth, and as the lady of the house, Madam Shen was needed to oversee the matter.

Madam Shen composed herself and left with Pei Yuanxi. One went to Aunt Qiu's courtyard, while the other returned to the Water Pavilion.

"Yuanxi... I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive your mother for her past foolishness. And thank you, thank you for helping me despite our previous misunderstandings."

Pei Yuanxi didn't turn back. "There's no need to say thank you. You're my mother."

Madam Shen gazed at her slender figure, truly realizing the vast distance between their hearts once more. The fact that she still acknowledged and protected Madam Shen as her mother was more than enough.

One must not be too greedy in life.

How could Pei Yuanxi not know of Madam Shen's guilt and self-reproach? She had given her mother many chances. After her utter disappointment, she had bowed deeply to her mother as a final farewell to maternal love.

She would respect her mother and fulfill her duties as a daughter, nothing more.

In this world, the person she truly trusted was her father.

Perhaps there was another individual.

The young emperor.

She couldn't explain why, but she inexplicably felt that she could trust Shangxing more than her own father. For instance, the idea of opening a music academy – before the flower-viewing banquet, she had no such thoughts, but she was certain he would unconditionally support her even without discussing it with him.

That kind of trust was quite impetuous, and she herself didn't know where it came from. Perhaps it was his gaze, or perhaps it was his attitude towards her; she had a misconception that she might truly be more important to him than the entire kingdom.

Could an aunt and nephew without blood ties really be so intimate?

His eyes sparkled like stars, his youthful face was handsome and innocent, and his smile, together with the dimples that appeared without guard, suddenly invaded her vision as she lifted the curtain to enter the inner chamber.

She hurriedly asked Chunyue not to follow and whispered, "Why are you here?"

Shangxing looked extremely aggrieved, his little face appearing pitiful. He had written a hundred well-wishing notes for a prosperous future, each word meticulously crafted to maintain his dignity. It took him an entire day to finish, only to find his mother seemingly uninterested in seeing him.

"I have wrist pain," he rubbed his wrist. "I've been writing all day, I'm so tired."

This... was he being spoiled?

Pei Yuanxi thought to herself that he indeed treated her as an elder. Considering how he had helped her amass great wealth, comfort and concern were necessary.

"You've truly worked hard."

Apparently, this simple acknowledgment of his efforts was not enough to satisfy Shangxing, who deliberately raised his hand high.

She hesitantly offered, "Should I massage it for you?"

He immediately brightened up, his face revealing a bashful delight. She had only made the suggestion offhandedly; she never expected him to take her seriously. Seeing his eager and pleased expression, she carefully massaged his wrist with great care.

Strangely, she didn't feel any discomfort at all. As she massaged his hand, a sense of affectionate concern, like that of an elder for a younger one, and an indescribable ache welled up within her.

Shangxing seemed to hold a significant place in her heart.

However, she still couldn't accept the idea of being with Gongye Chu in the future. In her view, apart from his appearance, Gongye Chu did not meet any of her criteria for a partner.

As she gently massaged Shangxing's wrist, she softly mentioned Gongye Chu, hoping that Shangxing would not speak of her to him, let alone reveal their secret.

Gongye Chu was no saint; he was a man whose hands were stained with blood. The coldness in his bones could freeze a person to death. She didn't believe she could ever melt an iceberg with love in the future.

Shangxing tilted his head, asking, "Why?"

"Well... I'm afraid it might cause inconvenience for Lord Gongye."

Certainly not for that reason, Shangxing thought to himself. But he would definitely heed his mother's words. In fact, there were some matters he had not discussed with his father.

It seemed like there was no progress between his father and mother, and he felt somewhat anxious about it.

With his wrist gently massaged, the fatigue and ache vanished. It was wonderful to have a mother; no wonder they say a child with a mother is a treasure.

After such a busy day, his mother must be tired too.

He was a well-behaved child and, of course, wouldn't disturb his mother's rest.

After parting with reluctance, he turned around and scaled the wall of the marquis residence. On the other side of the wall, a figure stood tall and elegant in the moonlit night. At first, he was startled, but then, upon recognizing who it was, his heart filled with joy.

"Dad!"

Gongye Chu had clearly been waiting for him; his expression in the darkness was indiscernible.

Shangxing ran over with delight, "You were waiting for me?"

Indeed, Gongye Chu was waiting for him.

"Follow me to the study. I have something to ask you."

This manner of speaking didn't resemble that between a king and his subject; it was more like how a father would address his son. Shangxing froze for a moment, as if he had been transported back in time. Whenever he made a mistake in the past, his father would talk to him this way.

"Dad, did you come over too?" he asked, catching up.

Gongye Chu didn't respond but hurried along. His tall figure moved swiftly through the night, like a gust of wind. When Shangxing followed him into the study, Gongye Chu promptly shut the door.

Shangxing's heart trembled slightly. He told himself that he hadn't done anything wrong; he had been well-behaved all day. He stood obediently with his head bowed, like a child who had made a mistake, waiting for his father's scolding. But when no reprimand came, he cautiously lifted his eyelids.

"Dad, did you come over?" His question carried a hint of hope amidst his doubt.

Gongye Chu knitted his brows. "Tell me about your life, everything."

The hope in Shangxing's eyes faded. Clearly, his father hadn't come over, or he wouldn't be asking such a question. However, the fact that his father was asking indicated that he was starting to believe his words.

Suddenly energized, Shangxing began recounting every detail of his life from childhood to the present.

The room was dimly lit by flickering lamplight, casting a dreamlike glow on the pearls, while the breeze gently swayed the gauze curtains, filling the space with warmth. For a moment, he felt as if he had been transported back in time to those days when he and his father relied on each other for support.

Outside, the night sky was a deep ink-black, occasionally pierced by twinkling stars. In the quiet darkness, all things in the world were embraced, slowly nurturing the passage of time that brought about renewal.

Morning approached, but sleep did not come.

Gongye Chu listened to every word with intense focus, repeatedly asking questions, especially about Pei Yuanxi. Shangxing's account dovetailed with his dreams, leaving him in a pensive state for a long while.

Shangxing, still young, initially excited, had grown weary from the continuous questioning. He yawned, barely awake, and asked if he could now acknowledge his mother.

"No," Gongye Chu replied without hesitation.

Before the entire situation was clarified, he refused to provoke any unnecessary complications.

Exhausted, Shangxing acquiesced, "Alright, I'll listen to Father."

It wasn't that he was listening to his father; he knew his own parent all too well. His father was the ruler of the world, an unyielding emperor. If his anger inadvertently harmed his mother, Shangxing would be the culprit.

"I'm so sleepy."

"Go to sleep now," the voice instructed.

Upon hearing this, Shangxing stumbled to his feet, his head somewhat dizzy. He vaguely recalled his mother's earlier warning not to reveal those matters to his father. Now, although his father had clearly believed his words, he was forbidden from acknowledging his mother.

As their son, he found the situation perplexingly challenging.

He decided to put those thoughts aside.

It was best to just sleep.

He was so very tired.