Chapter 52: Jealousy

Chapter 52: Jealousy

Perhaps due to the pregnancy, Xiao Chen’s body temperature was slightly higher than before. Dressed only in soft, comfortable inner garments within the inner hall, holding him felt warm. Yet, he remained slender, showing no noticeable weight gain except for his belly. Just as Ling Yehan’s hand reached for his waist, his neck was grasped.

“It’s hot. What’s all the fuss?”

Xiao Chen always felt a surge of heat whenever Ling Yehan approached him. Lately, Ling Yehan had become even more clingy than the dog he’d kept in the military camp.

Ling Yehan still wanted to linger. After thinking all day without a better plan, he decided that cuddling up to Xiao Chen might provoke a reaction—perhaps Xiao Chen would eventually reciprocate, making it easier to proceed. Unfortunately, his plan failed the moment he entered the room.

Noticing the books scattered across the floor and recalling the tense atmosphere when he arrived, Ling Yehan obsequiously raised his hands to massage Xiao Chen’s arms.

“Brother, are you in a bad mood?”

Xiao Chen was never one to vent his frustrations without reason. Even when displeased with court affairs, he typically relied on his imposing presence to assert authority, rarely taking his anger out on others. A scene like books thrown everywhere was indeed rare.

As Ling Yehan’s words fell, Xiao Chen also felt that such emotional behavior was unlike him. He suddenly realized that this life was indeed different from the last. In his previous life, he wouldn’t have had even a moment to spare for idle tea, let alone spend a whole day brooding over trivial matters. He wondered if it was due to his recent illness or the antics of the man before him.

Glancing around the palace he hadn’t left for days, he patted Ling Yehan’s arm.

“Perhaps it’s because I haven’t been out for too long. It’s stifling. Accompany me for a walk.”

Ling Yehan recalled that Xiao Chen indeed hadn’t left the Purple Palace Hall for quite some time. First, he had contracted the seasonal plague, then he had coughed up blood due to anger. Only recently had his complexion improved after days of rest.

Autumn had arrived, and with the recent rain, the evening breeze was no longer as stifling as in summer. Xiao Chen wore dark ink-colored satin inner garments. As his pregnancy progressed, he no longer tied a belt, instead draping a sheer, smoke-gray gauze robe over them. The cuffs and hem were embroidered with silver threads, fluttering gently in the breeze like lotus leaves.

Ling Yehan reached out to support his arm, but Xiao Chen pushed him away slightly. He wasn’t fond of appearing vulnerable.

However, Ling Yehan was not as obedient as Zhang Fu. Despite the push, he didn’t let go. Instead, he protested righteously with a tone full of grievance:

“Do you know how long I’ve missed you? I’ve been thinking of you since I left the palace this morning, all day long. I finally finished my duties and returned to accompany you, yet you won’t even let me hold or touch you.”

The resentment in his voice was palpable, almost dripping. Xiao Chen glanced sideways and saw a face full of grievance and complaint. When Ling Yehan noticed Xiao Chen looking, he deliberately turned away as if sulking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xiao Chen raise his arm. The gauze robe fluttered gently in the evening breeze, and Ling Yehan immediately did an about-face, turning back to slip his hand under Xiao Chen’s arm, supporting him steadily.

The two strolled slowly along the lake in the imperial garden. For the first time since entrusting external affairs to Ling Yehan, Xiao Chen asked:

“How is the plague situation outside the palace?”

“The number of new cases today has decreased by more than half. Most are returning for follow-up visits after taking medication. The Imperial Physicians have adjusted prescriptions according to the progression of the illness. Over half no longer need to return. Those who died from the plague have been collected and cremated as instructed by the physicians, with two taels of silver given to each household as compensation. There have been a few complaints, but not many. I suspect the plague will be over in a few days.”

Xiao Chen nodded. After walking for a while, a dull pain began to emanate from the old injury in his lower back. As the child grew heavier, the weight pulled at his waist and back, causing stiffness and soreness. His steps unconsciously slowed. Sensing the increased pressure on his arm, Ling Yehan switched hands to support him, freeing his right hand to press firmly against Xiao Chen’s lower back.

The warm palm settled perfectly over the stiff, painful old injury, applying a gentle kneading pressure that allowed Xiao Chen to exhale slowly.

“I noticed you dismissed all the impeachment memorials against you?”

Ling Yehan showed no trace of guilt, his tone unconsciously revealing his domineering side:

“Yes, they were all slanderous accusations. Dismissing them was lenient.”

Xiao Chen glanced at him, suddenly curious:

“After my death in our previous life, how did you stabilize the court?”

Although he had left Ling Yehan considerable resources, the latter had been away from court politics for years, making it a struggle. From the dream he had, Xiao Chen could glimpse that Ling Yehan’s life during that period had not been easy.

Ling Yehan’s gaze grew distant. Holding Xiao Chen’s elbow, the scent of medicine and ambergris filled his nostrils, making the memory of those difficult times seem less bitter:

“You left me the military tally. The generals stationed around the capital were all old acquaintances from my military days. I secured the capital firmly, even mobilizing the Imperial Guards to patrol the streets, forbidding private communication between residences and unauthorized departures from the city. Those caught were punished with twenty strokes. Even so, some still attempted to seize power. Rumors spread that you had a teenage son outside the palace, and there was talk of installing an older prince as successor.”

Xiao Chen frowned deeply. He knew that his young heir would face challenges after his death, but hearing about it still stirred his anger.

“How did you handle it?”

Ling Yehan’s expression darkened imperceptibly. The eyes that usually smiled at Xiao Chen now turned cold and harsh:

“Treason and rebellion warrant only death. 122 people, including the so-called folk prince, were executed.”

At the time, he had been consumed by rage. With Xiao Chen gone, protecting the heir was his sole purpose in life. He would allow no one to threaten the throne or destabilize the empire after Xiao Chen’s passing.

A bloody hue tinged his eyes as if reliving that day:

“The executions took place at the North Gate market. Blood flowed like a river. I not only attended personally but also forced all officials in the capital to witness the beheadings. From that day on, many absented themselves from court, pleading illness or making excuses. Most were civil officials. I gave them seven days. If they still claimed illness after that, I considered it a retirement, ordering the Ministry of Revenue to provide a severance and the Imperial Guards to escort them home. It worked. After seven days, whether truly ill or not, they all returned to court.”

Even now, Ling Yehan’s tone carried a hint of sarcasm.

A moment of silence passed between them. The cool breeze from the lake brushed Ling Yehan’s face, pulling him back to the present. The quiet suddenly made him uneasy:

“Brother, do you think I was too ruthless?”

Sensing his unease, Xiao Chen gently patted the back of his hand, his voice calm and steady:

“If minor disturbances aren’t crushed with thunderous force, it could lead to palace coups or military rebellions, costing far more than 122 lives. You did nothing wrong.”

He would have done the same. The difference was that Ling Yehan, not being the emperor and having returned to the capital only recently, lacked legitimacy. Relying on military power to suppress the court might ensure temporary peace but was unsustainable in the long run:

“Zhao Mengxian smoothed things over, didn’t he?”

Ling Yehan paused before replying, “Yes.”

“Your posthumous edict stated that four marquises and twelve generals could have their portraits displayed and enshrined in the imperial mausoleum after death, receiving royal offerings. A month after your passing, he ordered the Ministry of Works to construct the Meritorious Service Pavilion, commissioning portraits and establishing living shrines for officials. Which meritorious official wouldn’t desire such honor? His decree pacified the court. In the following years, marriages among noble families flourished. The dozen or so prominent families, along with their in-laws and relatives, naturally fell in line.”

Xiao Chen nodded slightly:

“He truly understands my intentions best.”

The posthumous edict was indeed meant to appease the meritorious officials, and Zhao Mengxian knew how to maximize its effect. Achieving goals without bloodshed and manipulating hearts had always been his style.

The phrase “understands my intentions best” made Ling Yehan purse his lips:

“You and your minister share a deep bond. Of course, he understands you best.”

The jealousy in his tone was unmistakable. Xiao Chen’s eyes held a teasing glint:

“That jealousy is so strong even the fish can smell it.”

“Since when can fish smell that well?”

Xiao Chen had always sensed Ling Yehan’s inexplicable dislike for Zhao Mengxian. He glanced at him:

“Even in the military, you rarely spoke with Mengxian. Though you shared the court for over a decade in your previous life, why do you still act this way?”

Ling Yehan thought of the chief minister he had worked with for many years. A decade was indeed a long time, yet he always felt a barrier between them, unable to feel any closeness. Even in their previous life, when court affairs forced them to confer frequently, they seldom spoke privately, even during festivals.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been able to figure him out. He’s too clever. I don’t like overly clever people. But in our previous life, he did assist the heir wholeheartedly, teaching everything he knew. He fulfilled your decree.”

Though he personally disliked Zhao Mengxian, he had to admit that no one could have performed the role of chief minister better.

“Also, I just don’t like how you always call him ‘Mengxian.’ Maybe that’s another reason I dislike him.”

That's such a childish thing to say, and Xiao Chen didn't know whether to laugh or cry:

“Why are you being so unreasonable?”

Having finally voiced the grievances he had held onto for years, Ling Yehan decided to keep making a scene:

“You said it yourself—it’s unreasonable. If it’s unreasonable, why bother how I act? I just don't like it, period.”

Xiao Chen ignored him. They had walked halfway along the lake when he started feeling short of breath, a dull ache intensifying in his lower back and his belly feeling increasingly heavy. As he raised a hand to support his waist, Ling Yehan immediately noticed:

“We’ve been walking for quite a while. Are you tired? Shall we call for the imperial carriage to return?”

Not daring to push himself too far, Xiao Chen nodded. The imperial carriage, which had been waiting at a distance, pulled up. As the guards set up the steps, Xiao Chen took a step forward but a sharp pain shot through his waist. His foot caught on the step, and he stumbled forward. Ling Yehan swiftly caught him, breaking out in a cold sweat from the scare. Not daring to let him climb the steps on his own again, Ling Yehan bent down, scooped him up under his knees and back, and carried him securely into the carriage. He then sat down right beside him, his voice still trembling with lingering fear:

“I won’t let you climb into the carriage by yourself next time.”

As he spoke, he gently massaged Xiao Chen’s lower back. Xiao Chen closed his eyes and said dismissively:

“You’re making a fuss over nothing.”

Ling Yehan grunted in response:

“I’ll make a fuss if I want to.”

Xiao Chen chuckled softly and opened his eyes. Noticing they were on the way to the Zichen Hall, he suddenly instructed:

“Take us to Jingfu Palace.”

Ling Yehan froze at the mention of Jingfu Palace—the palace where Lin'er had lived after his birth in their previous life. For some reason, though it was not far from the Zichen Hall, he had never set foot there again in this lifetime.

As if reading his thoughts, Xiao Chen took Ling Yehan’s hand and placed it gently on his own belly:

“The Lin'er from our previous life must have become a competent emperor. It’s too bad I didn't get to watch him grow up. Let’s go there—I’ll tell you stories of his childhood, and you can tell me about the man he became.”

Ling Yehan suddenly embraced him, nuzzled against his neck briefly before nodding in agreement.