Chapter 8: Staring Until His Face Flushed Red.

At night, when it was time to clean the wound again, Guan Xuan removed the old bandage, sprinkled on medicinal powder, and wrapped a new bandage around it. He tied it too carelessly and with too much force, scraping off what seemed like half of the scab. Guan Xuan paused in the middle of tying the knot, then slowly, with a strange emotion, untied the bandage again.

Recently, thanks to this body, Her Highness had indeed been doting on him as she had promised. As a Shadow Guard who should remain unseen, he had been allowed to stay and move about in her presence these past two days. Everyone else, including Ming Luo, had been ordered to guard outside and not to enter without reason.

But in truth, there was little communication between them. Throughout the entire day, Her Highness might not even glance at him twice. He had no tasks to complete, so there was little need for him to communicate with Her Highness. Thus, the privilege of being allowed in her presence was mainly for her convenience, so she could make use of him at any time.

He was not accustomed to staying in her presence, nor did he have anything to do. Seeing that the Princess had forgotten about him, he returned today to his usual hiding spots. But unexpectedly, after a short while, the Princess suddenly noticed his absence and called him out.

Little Cat stood before the Princess, who gazed at him with a smile, staring until his face flushed red.

He had already prepared himself to undress in broad daylight, but instead, Her Highness stood up and walked outside, telling him to follow.

The weather today was exceptionally fine, with sparse white clouds in the blue sky and golden sunlight. The Princess sat down on a rocking chair in the courtyard, where tea was brewing in a stove and several seasonal fruits were roasting nearby. She told him to play in the courtyard.

Guan Xuan was not used to standing under the sunlight, as shadows were difficult to hide. Not wearing his mask already made him feel as uncomfortable as if he were undressed, and now the discomfort doubled.

Seeing him standing motionless before her for a long time, the Princess lazily basked in the sun, propping her head on her hand as she teased him, “Don’t you even know how to play? There’s a butterfly over there. Go catch it.”

Guan Xuan quickly caught a white cabbage butterfly and cupped it in his hands to present to the Princess. She closed her eyes, her tone seeming somewhat helpless. “Play by yourself.”

Guan Xuan released his hands and watched the butterfly fly away, its white powder staining his palm lines. The butterfly fluttered unsteadily but somehow managed to fly across the vast courtyard, disappearing to who knows where. In truth, he was not really a little cat and had no interest in playing with butterflies.

Guan Xuan crouched among the flowers, making his shadow low and short. If the Princess needed him, she could still see him. He cupped his face in his hands, watching the flowers that appeared especially vibrant under the sunlight. The green leaves, some coarse and stiff, others soft and delicate, swayed gently in the wind. His heart was serene.

A female official stood outside the courtyard gate and reported to the Princess through the door, saying that news had come from the palace: the new emperor intended to send her to the Turks for a marriage alliance.

His next mission was approaching, and this time it was rather far away. Did the Princess bring him to the courtyard because she knew his time to play was running short?

But even as night fell, the Princess did not assign him the mission to kill.

Part of the scab had indeed been scraped off, and fresh beads of blood seeped from the wound. This was a common occurrence, and there was no need to reapply medicine. Yet, as Guan Xuan looked at this newly grown flesh, the strange emotion in his heart grew stronger. The Princess had already fallen asleep, and only two faint candles remained lit in the hall. By their dim light, Guan Xuan gently applied medicine and carefully covered the wound with a new bandage. Suddenly, he found himself eagerly hoping the wound would heal properly, without leaving a scar.

The Princess did not require his service tonight, likely because the sterility decoction had lost its effect.

With the issuance of the marriage alliance decree, the house arrest order on Zhao Rongzhang was naturally lifted. Zhao Jue was quite pleased with his own decision, even publicly stating before his ministers that since the Princess’s fate of bringing calamity was so severe, they might as well make the most of it—let her go and bring misfortune to those damned Turks.

At first glance, this reasoning seemed sound. This decision could not only appease the Turks but also console the “heroic spirits” of those poor late consorts. After all, the northern deserts were no place for a delicate Central Plains princess to survive. Treacherous ministers all clapped in approval, echoing his words repeatedly, which greatly boosted Zhao Jue’s mood.

However, several elder ministers in the court who still possessed a shred of conscience and integrity firmly opposed this. Emperor Gaozu had once established a ancestral rule: Princesses of Great Zhou must never marry foreign rulers, and Great Zhou must never adopt the marriage alliance policies of the Han and Tang dynasties. Compromise and showing weakness could only bring temporary peace, and behind this temporary peace would be the enemy’s even more blatant covetous gaze. No matter what, Great Zhou had only this one Princess, the pearl in the palm of the late emperor. The new emperor had been on the throne for barely three months—was he already willing to break his own pride and let barbarians trample upon it?

The entire capital was embroiled in arguments and discussions over this matter, yet Zhao Rongzhang, at the center of the storm, paid little attention. She took the meal menu from Ming Luo and ordered dishes like deer tendon, sea cucumber, swan meat, and roasted camel hump… and additionally requested two steamed shad fish.

Shad fish were delicious, tender, scarce, and highly prized, only catchable in the Jiangnan region during the brief period from April to June between spring and summer, and they died immediately upon leaving water. Fishermen caught them at dawn, packed them into lead boxes filled with ice to preserve freshness, and laborers switched boats and horses to rush them thousands of miles, ensuring they reached the palace gates within two days—otherwise, they would face punishment. The manpower and resources expended during this process were incalculable. Since childhood, Zhao Rongzhang had favored the delicate flavor of shad fish. During these three months each year, she alone could consume thirty to forty of them. Sometimes, when the tribute quantity was insufficient, the late emperor would even share his own portion with her, ordering the imperial kitchen to prioritize Princess Yingrong.

These past two days had just entered April, marking the first batch of shad fish tribute this year.

Zhao Rongzhang had a hearty appetite. In less than half an hour, she had consumed half of each of the eight exquisite dishes served. A palace maid entered to offer her Pu’er tea to relieve greasiness and stimulate saliva, then quietly withdrew.

Zhao Rongzhang called Little Cat out.

She leisurely sipped her tea, watching as Little Cat picked up the foot-long fish, chewing it bite by bite along with the fine bones, consuming it entirely until only a complete fish skeleton remained. His way of eating carried a kind of animal-like simplicity. He used no chopsticks, which could not be called elegant, but neither was it the crude devouring of a wild beast. He simply showed no expression, no emotion, taking one bite after another in order, as if completing a task, entirely devoid of likes or dislikes—almost making one suspect he had no sense of taste. She recalled how he had been the same when drinking the sterility decoction, obediently as if drinking water. Yet there was no medicine in the world that wasn’t bitter; even the Snow Essence Pill was the same, so bitter each time that it made her feel as if she were vomiting bile.

Zhao Rongzhang had no doubt that when he went to kill, he was equally silent.

Only one kind of moment was different: when she pressed him down and demanded his service, when she bullied and tormented him. His face streaked with tears, skin flushed pink, even his emotions were vivid.

Pleasant to look at and amusing to play with.

However, she was not some foolish princess who indulged in pleasure and wallowed in bed. This month, the heat toxin had been resolved, her desires had subsided, and even the most delicious things now seemed merely ordinary, leaving her disinterested.

After drinking tea, Zhao Rongzhang took a carriage into the palace. Once inside the palace gates, she transferred to a sedan chair, passing by the Zihua Hall where Zhao Jue was temporarily residing, and proceeded directly to the Grand Empress Dowager’s Renshou Palace. The Grand Empress Dowager still claimed illness and refused to appear.

Claiming illness could not stop Zhao Rongzhang. She straightened the silk ribbons draped over her shoulders and walked calmly inside, speaking in a composed tone: “With the passing of the late emperor, I, like Your Majesty, am utterly heartbroken. My elder brother is unkind, placing me under house arrest, which prevented me from visiting Your Majesty during your long illness. Only now, with the marriage alliance decree issued, have I been allowed to enter the palace. Yet, given my elder brother’s impatience, perhaps he cannot wait two months before dressing me in wedding attire and sending me off to marry in the barbaric lands. That parting would be a separation between life and death. Could Your Majesty bear to see me forever separated from my younger brother, without even a few words of farewell?”

Pushing aside the blocking palace maids and eunuchs along the way, she reached the door, where guards raised their swords to block her, and Zhao Rongzhang finally halted. Her voice echoed through the hall until it faded into silence.

The bead curtain stirred, and the shadow of the Grand Empress Dowager’s personal attendant, Nanny Rui’an, appeared on the floor. Rui’an stood by the door, bowed slightly to the princess, and lifted a corner of the bead curtain: “Her Majesty the Grand Empress Dowager is unwell, and the imperial physician has advised against exposure to too many people. Please enter alone, Your Highness.”

Inside the bedroom, as quiet and clean as a Buddhist hall, only a few sparse lamps were lit, and two sticks of incense burned. Zhao Rongzhang stepped over the threshold and looked up to see the child who shared her bloodline sitting by the brocade-covered kang, babbling as he played with an embroidered ball. The bead curtain fell behind her.

The Grand Empress Dowager lay on the bed, wearing reading glasses, scrutinizing the words on the page in her hand. Hearing her enter, she did not look up but said, “You and your brother have not seen each other for months. Since you miss him so dearly, why not go and hold him?”

A cold smile hung on Zhao Rongzhang’s lips as she shifted her gaze away from Zhao Zhu and sighed, “He does not recognize me. If I hold him, he will cry.”

“Affection needs to be nurtured. Hold him more often, and he will naturally remember you as his sister.” The Grand Empress Dowager turned a page of her book and suddenly sighed, speaking earnestly, “Yingrong, if you do not wish to marry in the alliance and are dissatisfied with the emperor’s choice of consort for you, I can intervene on your behalf. There are so many talented young men in Great Zhou; surely there is one you would favor. The new emperor has already ascended the throne, and Zhu’er is still so young. You must prioritize the stability of the nation and the imperial lineage. Do not listen to your misguided mother’s words and harbor ambitions you should not have. Your mother, after all, came from such a background, and the ideas she conceived were all too immature.”

Nanny Rui’an served her tea and invited her to sit. She stood by the brocade-covered kang, unmoving.

A person like her mother ultimately met such a death. Who could take the thoughts of such a person seriously?

The Grand Empress Dowager was affectionate toward her mother, and in all her words, she merely described her as immature. The Grand Empress Dowager carried the entire nation in her heart, the entire Zhao family’s empire, unlike them, who exhausted themselves in various struggles, all for the sake of seizing power and profit.

But without power, without profit, what meaning was there in drifting through life like a leaf on the water?

Zhao Rongzhang insisted on seeing the Grand Empress Dowager not to quarrel or provoke her. She sat down by the kang table and asked, “But is the world today, the empire today, truly stable?

“His Majesty is young and impulsive. You have witnessed all that he has done these past days. His birth mother, the late Empress Xiaoren, passed away too early, leaving no one to assist him in managing court affairs to this day, which has stirred widespread discussion. In truth, Grandmother’s illness should have long been cured; otherwise, what will fall ill is the empire of Great Zhou.”

The embroidered ball in Zhao Zhu’s hand slipped and fell onto the kang table, rolling right into Zhao Rongzhang’s lap. Zhao Rongzhang picked it up, a natural smile spreading across her face as she shook the ball at him, teasing him to laugh.

The Grand Empress Dowager’s hand, holding the book, paused, and her eyebrows behind the reading glasses gradually furrowed.

She was reluctant to involve herself in court politics, firstly to use Zhao Zhu’s existence to balance the various factions, and secondly to ensure Zhao Zhu’s safety. In anyone else’s hands, Zhao Zhu would become an extremely useful puppet—such as Prince Su, or even his own elder sister. Moreover, raising him under her care would give Zhao Jue an additional layer of restraint, preventing him from acting lawlessly.

Yet the young woman’s words struck a deeper worry within her: Zhao Jue was not a good emperor. The empire of Great Zhou could not endure eternally under such a willful ruler.

But if she were to step into the fray, Zhao Zhu would inevitably be directly entangled in it all. The two goals she sought to achieve would both be shattered.