Chapter 122: Nanli Temple

It was already November, the cold wind carrying a dry chill from the north. Charcoal fires burned in the rooms, and basins of water were placed about, yet even so, fingers sometimes still cracked and wrinkled from the dryness.

Lan Wu herself was still fine, but the palace servants beneath her were suffering.

She had the Inner Court Administration prepare more anti-cracking Snow Lotus Cream and distributed it among the servants. Though crudely made, it would see them through this winter.

“Your Highness, everything has been distributed,” Lian Qiao said with a smile as she entered the hall with refreshments, relaying the servants’ reactions. “Everyone says they wish to thank Your Highness for your grace.”

Lan Wu smiled and was about to say something when someone else entered the hall without announcement.

“Thank for what grace?”

Only Chu Mingheng could enter her Yilan Hall without being announced.

Lan Wu reached to pull the quilt over her legs, watching Chu Mingheng from the soft couch. “A few days ago, I had some Snow Lotus Cream sent over and distributed it to the servants below.”

Lian Qiao glanced at Lan Wu, her gaze lingering briefly on the quilt-covered legs, then hesitantly withdrew from the hall.

“If you care so much even for palace servants, what about me?” Chu Mingheng said as he stood before Lan Wu, leaning down slightly. As he spoke, he lifted a corner of the quilt covering her legs.

“Your Majesty!” Lan Wu couldn’t help but blush, as if some little trick had been exposed.

Chu Mingheng looked down and saw a cat curled up asleep on Lan Wu’s legs. He snorted coldly. “Didn’t I say you’re not allowed to hold it?”

And it specifically chose to sleep on Lan Wu’s legs—this cat was truly presumptuous.

“Yun Gao is very well-behaved. Besides, since you’ve already given it to me, how can you forbid me from holding it? That makes no sense…” Lan Wu reached out to grasp Chu Mingheng’s hand, pulling it down to let him pet the cat too, whispering, “Your Majesty, try petting it. Maybe you’ll like it too.”

With his hand captured by her, Chu Mingheng perfunctorily stroked the cat’s head a couple of times. Just then, Mujin entered the hall to serve tea. He turned slightly and pointed at the cat:

“Take it away.”

Mujin paused for a moment, then swiftly stepped forward to lift Yun Gao, who was sleeping pressed against Lan Wu’s legs.

Lan Wu shifted her legs. Though the cat wasn’t heavy, having it pressed against her legs for so long had become uncomfortable, almost making her legs go numb.

After Mujin carried the cat out, Chu Mingheng simply rearranged the quilt over Lan Wu, sat beside her, placed her legs on his own lap, and reached under the quilt to massage them.

Perhaps knowing that Chu Mingheng had been feeling unwell these past few days, Lan Wu gently cupped his face. Without asking anything, she simply looked at the red veins in his eyes and said, “If Your Majesty still can’t sleep tonight, I’ll have the Imperial Physician from the Imperial Medical Academy prepare a bowl of calming soup—the strongest kind.”

Chu Mingheng touched his nose to hers, gently supporting her waist with his hand, and hummed in agreement. “Troubling A’wu to worry so much about me. No need for the calming soup—tonight I will surely sleep well.”

Lan Wu refused to believe him, still remembering the last time he pretended to sleep, only to slip out of the palace to handle government affairs after she had fallen asleep.

“I’ll watch you, keep watching you,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice firm.

A smile rippled in Chu Mingheng’s eyes. “That’s wonderful. You must keep your word then—no looking at anyone else.”

Lan Wu gave him a light push.

Someone gently knocked at the hall entrance—it was Chen Kangan reporting from outside.

Chu Mingheng wiped the smile from his face and allowed him to enter.

“What is it?”

Chen Kangan stood outside the screen and replied, “Your Majesty, the palace attendants have sent word that Master Huifan has arrived at Nanli Temple.”

Lan Wu turned her head, glancing at the screen, then at Chu Mingheng.

They had spoken of this Master Huifan before, but with the investigation into Zhu Qing’s identity and the old matters of Kunning Palace resurfacing, it had been pushed aside, and she had nearly forgotten about it.

“Have someone prepare the carriage,” Chu Mingheng instructed.

Chen Kangan acknowledged the order from outside and withdrew.

Lan Wu had not left the palace for a long time. By now, her illness had long since recovered, but Chu Mingheng always had an excuse—either the weather was too cold, or he worried about her safety without his supervision—to keep her within Yilan Hall. At most, she could only play with Yun Gao in the front or back courtyards.

But he had previously mentioned taking her to meet Master Huifan.

“Stop holding me. I need to change clothes and put my hair up,” Lan Wu shifted her legs, trying to get down from his lap, and instructed him to call Mujin in to do her hair.

“No rush,” Chu Mingheng responded indifferently, yet his arms around Lan Wu tightened slightly. He buried his face against her neck, his breath tickling her skin.

“If we’re late, you’ll use the excuse of the late hour and heavy dew to bundle me up like a dumpling again when we return,” Lan Wu struggled to sit up, turning to look at him. Seeing him still unmoved, she frowned slightly. “Go call someone.”

Chu Mingheng did not agree with her “dumpling” comparison. Propping his head up, he chuckled softly, only rising to call someone in for her when he saw Lan Wu growing annoyed.

Watching his retreating figure, Lan Wu let out a small sigh of relief. Ever since learning of Zhu Qing’s connection to the Lin family, she had felt uneasy, sensing that something significant had happened after her death in her previous life—something perhaps related to Chu Mingheng.

Yet despite her unease, things were now moving in a positive direction.

As someone who did not believe in gods, buddhas, or spirits, if she could truly hear words of truth before the Buddha, it might help resolve her doubts.

In the carriage, the smooth and unobstructed path they had been taking suddenly changed midway, redirected by Chu Mingheng’s order.

“Why are there so many temples around the imperial city?” Lan Wu had grown up in the palace and had never visited a temple outside the palace to offer incense. Now, going for the first time to meet a revered monk, she was curious and kept asking Chu Mingheng questions along the way.

“East, south, west, north—just four temples. Not that many,” seeing her genuine curiosity, Chu Mingheng elaborated a bit more. “Noble families are willing to offer incense and donations to seek success in their endeavors, while common people, facing misfortune and hardship with no way out, can only place their hopes in gods and buddhas. Whether it works or not, no one really knows.”

“Huguang Temple is for seeking marriage or children, Xituo Temple for wealth or official advancement, and Beizhu Temple for health and well-being.”

Lan Wu noticed one was missing. “What about Nanli Temple?”

“Nanli Temple and Wuji Temple belong to the imperial family. What do you think they pray for?” Chu Mingheng found her naive expression particularly endearing. He poured her a cup of light tea and handed it to her to warm her hands.

Lan Wu looked at Chu Mingheng suspiciously. A temple for imperial rituals and prayers—yet she felt no one in the royal family particularly believed in these gods and buddhas?

“We’re almost there. Once inside, stay close to me…” Chu Mingheng started, then shook his head. “I’ll hold your hand as we walk.”

Lan Wu tilted her head in confusion—they were just going to a temple, not some crowded street bustling with people, right?

Was Chu Mingheng really worried she might get lost even in such a situation?

He was seriously underestimating her.