Chapter 150: Still Not Acceptable
The carriage had remained silent since halfway down the mountain, and the quiet persisted until they reached the palace gates and switched to the Imperial Carriage.
Lan Wu looked at the hand Chu Mingheng offered, thought for a moment, and then placed hers in it.
Chu Mingheng’s expression seemed to improve slightly as he grasped Lan Wu’s hand and helped her down from the carriage.
It was the second day after New Year’s Eve, but because His Majesty had extensively promoted the ranks of the imperial harem the day before, the entire palace was bustling with activity.
Yet Lan Wu, who should have been the busiest of all, appeared indifferent to the title of Guifei she had been granted the previous day, not even mentioning it once.
What were these two masters quarreling about now?
Weren’t they perfectly fine just yesterday?
Chen Kangan waited anxiously to the side, and even the surrounding palace attendants sensed the strained atmosphere between the two masters, not daring to utter a word.
When the Imperial Carriage reached the outer path of the Imperial Garden, Lan Wu patted the seat beneath her.
“I’ll walk back. Your Majesty must still have matters to attend to, so please go ahead.” With that, Lan Wu signaled the attendants to stop.
Chu Mingheng pressed his hand on her arm, preventing her from getting down.
After a brief standoff, he finally released his grip and conceded, “I’ll go with you.”
Lan Wu ignored him and stepped down from the Imperial Carriage on her own.
The weather was cold, and both wore cloaks, but even so, the occasional sharp, dry gusts of wind still sent shivers through them.
Lan Wu walked ahead, and from Chu Mingheng’s perspective, she looked just like a snow-white rabbit.
It wasn’t that Lan Wu was particularly angry—after all, she had been driven to tears during more heated moments—but she was still sulking with him now.
The cold wind blew against his forehead, gradually cooling his already throbbing head, pricking his nerves like needles.
He paused for a moment.
In that brief moment, Lan Wu ahead inexplicably stopped as well, standing still and subtly turning slightly toward his direction. Her eyes peered out from the soft white fur of her hood, quietly watching him.
Lan Wu still cared about him.
A warmth surged in Chu Mingheng’s heart, but it was quickly followed by a mix of emotions—it was precisely because she cared about him that she had listened to Huifan’s words and planned to go to Changyong Mountain to pray for his well-being for three months.
Such a distant place, and what’s more, for three whole months—how could he let Lan Wu go?
That old monk Huifan had always spoken cryptic, seemingly profound words in his presence. Though it was a case of trying anything in desperation, it now seemed his methods had been effective. However, allowing Lan Wu to interact with him was something Chu Mingheng absolutely refused to consider.
Who knew what shocking things Huifan might say to Lan Wu? And Lan Wu, naive as she was, would likely believe every word.
Still not acceptable.
Perhaps because Chu Mingheng remained motionless and didn’t follow her, Lan Wu hesitated for a moment where she stood, then trudged back sullenly.
Chu Mingheng lowered his head slightly and saw the hem of Lan Wu’s cloak appear in his line of sight. Before he could react, a bright, fair face suddenly entered his view.
Lan Wu leaned in and saw his expression.
“You still have a headache, don’t you?” she stated the reason, then straightened up, reached out to take Chu Mingheng’s hand, sighed softly, and pulled him along to continue walking.
Yilan Hall wasn’t too far from the Imperial Garden, and Lan Wu led Chu Mingheng all the way back there. Along the way, they didn’t encounter any unrelated people, as the series of major events during yesterday’s New Year’s Eve had left the imperial concubines in the palace too cautious to wander about recklessly.
Lan Wu intended to have a proper discussion with Chu Mingheng about this matter. If she still couldn’t get him to agree…
She couldn’t simply run from the imperial palace to Changyong Mountain either. This matter still required Chu Mingheng’s approval.
If this Chu Mingheng wouldn’t agree, then… what about the other one?
Lan Wu unconsciously tightened her grip on Chu Mingheng’s hand and gave him a meaningful glance.
Yesterday, the person had changed after a night’s sleep, but last night, after sleeping, the person hadn’t changed this morning.
Was her guess wrong, or had Chu Mingheng simply not slept at all last night?
She leaned toward the latter.
If that were the case, it would also explain why both the Imperial Physician and Master Huifan had said he wasn’t resting well.
How could one rest well after staying up all night?
She really was foolish to have believed Chu Mingheng’s lie about sleeping properly.
“Awu, my head isn’t hurting too much. You don’t need to worry.” Chu Mingheng, led by her hand back to the palace, looked somewhat uneasy when he saw the gate of Yilan Hall.
Lan Wu didn’t turn around, only saying resentfully, “I’m not worried about you.”
When they were just a few steps away from the entrance of Yilan Hall, Lan Wu tried to move forward but couldn’t pull Chu Mingheng along, nearly tripping herself.
Chu Mingheng steadied her, taking the opportunity to pull her into his embrace. He glanced down at her and asked, “Should I take you back to Taichen Palace instead?”
Why go back to Taichen Palace when they were already at the door?
Lan Wu couldn’t understand it, looking at the gate of Yilan Hall in confusion and shaking her head gently. “I’m not used to Taichen Palace. It’s cold and unwelcoming. Yilan Hall is so much better. Don’t you like Yilan Hall?”
Chu Mingheng couldn’t give a reason, only telling Lan Wu that he liked it.
In the end, they stepped through the palace gate.
Once inside the hall, Lan Wu removed her cloak. The hall was warm, instantly dispelling the chill around her.
When she looked up, she saw Chu Mingheng gazing around and understood what he was looking at.
“There shouldn’t be any major changes, right?” Lan Wu approached him, murmuring softly. “Although the things you’ve sent to my palace are mostly similar, some are different. I’m used to the familiar layout, so I tried to arrange things as they were before.”
“…It’s very similar.” Chu Mingheng’s voice was strained as he looked around. It was precisely because it was so similar, almost identical to the Yilan Hall of his past life, that he felt an illusion—as if he had never come to this life, never reunited with Lan Wu, and all of this was just a dream, like the countless dreams he had before.
The needle in his mind pierced into his flesh, severing his nerves one by one, the pain nearly overwhelming him. Yet he remained calm, slowly closing his eyes. After a moment of silence, he opened them again.
The space before him was empty. Lan Wu was gone.
He froze, his heart pounding like a drum. Stiffly, he looked around, hesitantly calling out:
“Awu…”
A ringing sound filled his ears. He heard nothing, could hear nothing.
He lifted his foot, feeling as if it weighed a thousand pounds, nearly stumbling forward a few steps. He called out again, this time louder, with a sense of urgency: “Awu!”
The sound of light, hurried footsteps gradually drew closer, becoming clear and audible. At the same time, the violent pounding in his left chest slowly began to ease.
Lan Wu’s voice reached his ears through the painted screen and the distance of several zhang between them.
“What?” She too seemed startled by the urgency in his call, thinking something had happened to Chu Mingheng. She hurried out, her figure appearing before him as she quickly responded, “What’s wrong? I’m here…”
Her body was pulled into an embrace, the chill from outside the hall meeting soft warmth.
Lan Wu didn’t know what was wrong with him, but she seemed to sense his anxiety from this embrace. She reached out to hug him back, patting his back in a comforting gesture.