Chapter 2

The candle flame flickered a few times, went out, and then lit up again, casting his lone shadow onto the floor. He looked down at his hands. They were trembling. He recalled the words Fan Changning had spoken— Going grey overnight.A blade stripped of its sharp edge.Standing at the door, waiting for someone who will never return. "Yanzheng, why haven't you come back for dinner yet?" At the thought of that sentence, Qi Yu closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I am Qi Yu," he told himself, his voice so hoarse it was barely audible. "Not... not some Yu Bao'er." No one answered him. Outside the hall, faint footsteps drifted away into the night wind until they completely vanished. A spark crackled sharply from the candle wick. He was left all alone in the hall, amidst a floor of scattered ruins. Changning Palace. The moment the palace doors swung shut, Fan Changning felt as though her spine had been ripped out. She slid down against the doorframe to the floor. She did not cry. Her tears had already dried up back in Jian'an Hall; all that remained was a dry, burning ache in her eyes. She pulled her knees into her chest, buried her face in her arms, and curled herself into a tight, tiny ball. From outside the window came the beats of the night watch drum—it was the third watch. She remembered her childhood at the Xie residence. Whenever this hour came around, her brother-in-law, Xie Zheng, would return from his night patrol, and her elder sister would always greet him with a bowl of hot soup. The two of them would stand in the courtyard talking in hushed tones, punctuated by occasional soft laughter. Back then, she used to lean against the windowsill watching them, thinking that this was surely what the best husband and wife in the world looked like. Later, when Qi Yu came to the Xie family, she shared this secret with him."I will treat you just as well in the future," the nine-year-old Yu Bao'er had vowed earnestly. "Even better than your brother-in-law treats your sister." Fan Changning buried her face deeper into her arms. He truly was a liar... The Next Day, Cining Palace. Upon hearing the servant's report, Yu Qianqian slammed the teacup in her hand onto the floor, shattering it into several pieces. "What did you say?" She stood up abruptly, her face pale with fury. "He put Changning under house arrest?" The servant knelt on the floor, not daring to raise their head: "Yes. His Majesty said the Empress committed a breach of etiquette in the Imperial presence, so she was sent back to Changning Palace and is forbidden to leave without an imperial decree." Without another word, Yu Qianqian grabbed her skirts and marched straight out. Her personal nanny scrambled to catch up: "Empress Dowager, please change your shoes first—" "Change what shoes?!" Yu Qianqian didn't even turn her head, her steps swift and furious. "One step later, and I'm afraid I won't be able to stop myself from smashing that brat's throne to pieces!" The nanny jogged behind her, silently lighting a candle in prayer for the Emperor. Jian'an Hall. Qi Yu sat behind the dragon desk reviewing imperial memorials. A cup of stone-cold tea rested by his right hand. There were faint dark circles beneath his eyes—he had clearly stayed awake all night. The doors of the hall were suddenly thrown open with a loud slam. Qi Yu frowned and looked up, but before he could speak, a figure had already rushed up to him. "Yu Bao'er!" Qi Yu froze. "Mother, why are you—" Before he could finish his sentence, a hard slap landed squarely on his left cheek. Crack! The crisp sound echoed through the grand hall. Several attendants were so terrified their knees buckled, and they dropped to the floor in unison. Qi Yu was completely stunned. Holding his face, he looked at the furious woman in front of him in sheer disbelief. Yu Qianqian was shaking with rage, her eyes rimmed with red, her chest heaving violently. "Yu Bao'er, when you begged me to let you marry Changning back then, didn't you promise that you would never let her suffer any grievance for the rest of her life?" Her voice was sharp and fierce, battering him like rapid gunfire. "I taught you as well—once you make your choice, she should be the only one for the rest of your life, protected like a treasure in the palm of your hand!" "Xie Zheng is dead, Changyu has gone mad, and Changning hates you—are all of these really what you wanted?!" Holding his cheek, a flash of humiliation and anger flickered across Qi Yu's eyes. "Mother," his voice was kept low, tight with suppressed anger, "I am Qi Yu, not Yu Bao'er. I am the Emperor. How can Mother still strike me like I'm a child?" Seeing him force out his imperial dignity right after it had been shattered by a single slap, Yu Qianqian felt both anger and heartache, but above all, a deep resentfulness for his failure to live up to expectations. She took a deep breath— Crack! Another slap. This one was even heavier than the last, snapping Qi Yu's head to the side. Half of his face instantly swelled red, and a trail of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. The air in the hall seemed to freeze. Qi Yu whipped his head back, a tempest brewing in his eyes. His lips parted as if he were about to say something— Yu Qianqian put her hands on her hips and stepped aggressively toward him, her aura overpowering: "Bah! What of the Emperor? You came out of my belly, so this old mother has every right to discipline you!" Intimidated by her imposing momentum, Qi Yu leaned back slightly, choking down the words that had reached his lips. Yu Qianqian gave him no room to breathe, pointing straight at his nose as she scolded: "Think about your biological father! Back then, he even wanted to kill you. If it hadn't been for Xie Zheng and Fan Changyu, how could you possibly be standing here healthy and whole, acting as the Emperor?" "You're just like your father! Even though he never raised you, you inherited his cruel and heartless ways!" These words were like a blade, stabbing precisely into Qi Yu's most vulnerable spot. The anger on his face instantly froze, replaced by a miserable mix of exposure and pain. "Mother blames me too?" His voice trembled, his eyes turning red, looking like an abandoned child. "Mother also thinks that I am... like him?" Looking at his vulnerable state, Yu Qianqian's heart ached. Yet she did not soften. "Precisely because you came out of my belly, if I don't discipline you now, I fear you will turn into a monster just like your biological father!" Qi Yu snapped his head up, his voice raspy: "I won't!" "But you have already harmed Xie Zheng and Fan Changyu!" Yu Qianqian's voice roared over his, tears finally spilling over. "Yu Bao'er, tell me, when did you become like this? Where did that lovable, obedient, and kind child from your youth go?" Qi Yu opened his mouth, but no words came out. His eyes reddened, his nose stung, and his Adam's apple rolled several times. In the end, he only managed to squeeze out one sentence: "I... I am the Emperor." "Does being the Emperor mean you can forget kindness and violate loyalty? Does being the Emperor mean you can kill your saviors? Does being the Emperor mean you can lock up your lawful wife?" Yu Qianqian spoke word by word, every phrase piercing his heart. "Qi Yu, touch your conscience and tell me: have Xie Zheng and Fan Changyu ever been even half-unloyal to you?" Qi Yu remained silent for a long time. "They haven't," his voice was barely a whisper, squeezed from the back of his throat. "But Mother, the military power—" "Military power?" Yu Qianqian sneered. "When you were being hunted down as a child, why didn't you mind the military power in Xie Zheng's hands?" "When you ascended the throne, why didn't you mind the military power in Xie Zheng's hands?" "During the ten years you sat securely on the throne, why didn't you mind the military power in Xie Zheng's hands?" "Why do you mind it only now?" "Why do you mind it only after he spent fifteen years guarding the borders for you and fighting battles for you?!" Qi Yu's face turned pale and red by turns. The hand covering his face dropped to his side, tightly clenching into a fist. "I..." His voice was raspy, sounding like sandpaper grinding against stone. "I was only paving the way for Nian'ning." "Nian'ning is only five years old!" Yu Qianqian nearly shouted. "Aren't you ashamed of using a five-year-old child as an excuse?" "Besides, Xie Zheng is not Wei Yan. As long as Nian'ning is properly guided, he won't necessarily turn out like Qi Sheng in the future." Qi Yu was rendered completely speechless by her retort. Looking at him, Yu Qianqian suddenly felt a wave of sheer exhaustion wash over her. She raised a hand to wipe away her tears, lowering her voice slightly: "I am going to see Changning now. You sit here and think hard about what you have done wrong." With that, she turned on her heel and strode out, her skirts whipping up a gust of wind. When she reached the doors of the hall, she paused briefly, without turning around. "Yu Bao'er," she spoke, her voice heavy with weary disappointment, "your mother is deeply disappointed in you." The hall doors swung shut. Qi Yu stood frozen in place, one side of his face swollen red, with traces of blood still lingering at the corner of his mouth. He lowered his head and stared at his hands—the very hands that had reviewed imperial memorials for fifteen years were now trembling faintly. "I..." he began, his voice so low that only he could hear it, "I just wanted to be a good emperor." No one answered him. Changning Palace. When Yu Qianqian arrived, Fan Changning was sitting by the window in a daze. She had not dressed her hair; her jet-black locks spilled loosely over her shoulders. She was still wearing last night's plain white mourning attire, and the broken porcelain powder clinging to her skirts had not even been dusted off. She just sat there motionless, her gaze fixed on the bare ginkgo tree outside the window. Her eyes were empty, like a dry, lifeless well. Even when the servants announced "Her Majesty the Empress Dowager has arrived," she gave no reaction. Yu Qianqian stood at the doorway watching her for a moment. Her heart felt as though it were being squeezed tightly in a vice, aching so terribly she could hardly catch her breath. She walked over. Only then did Fan Changning snap back to reality. The moment she saw Yu Qianqian, all her fortitude collapsed in an instant. "Aunt Qianqian—" She threw herself into Yu Qianqian's arms, weeping like a helpless child. She didn't call her "Mother"; she called her "Aunt Qianqian." The very Aunt Qianqian who used to braid her hair, teach her embroidery, and stay by her bedside when she fell ill during her childhood. Tears immediately surged into Yu Qianqian's eyes. She embraced Fan Changning tightly, gently stroking her back just as she used to coax her when she was small. "I'm here, Changning. Aunt Qianqian is right here." Fan Changning sobbed uncontrollably, curling her entire body up in Yu Qianqian's embrace, her shoulders shaking violently. She wept out all her grievances, rage, and despair, soaking more than half of Yu Qianqian's lapel with her tears. It was only after a long time that the weeping gradually subsided. Yu Qianqian gently led her to sit by the couch and wiped her face with a handkerchief. Fan Changning's eyes were red and swollen from crying, and her nose was red, making her look pitiful and disheveled. Yu Qianqian held her hand, remaining silent for a long moment before speaking. "Changning, I'm sorry." Her voice was hoarse, weighed down with profound self-reproach. "It was my failure to raise Yu Bao'er properly that brought harm upon your elder sister and brother-in-law..." She paused, her throat choking up, before forcing herself to continue: "Do you blame me?" Fan Changning shook her head. With her head lowered, she stared at her hand being held in Yu Qianqian's, remaining silent for a long time. "I don't blame anyone," her voice was faint, like a whisper easily scattered by the wind. "I only blame myself for being naive enough to believe in youthful devotions and everlasting love... believing that Yu..." She paused, her gaze dimming for a brief second, as if that name burned her lips to speak. "...believing that he was different from other emperors." Yu Qianqian's heart clenched tightly. "Back then, he told me with his own lips," Fan Changning's gaze drifted toward the window, her voice floating distantly as if recalling a dream from long ago, "Only an incompetent emperor would harbor suspicion toward his ministers." A single tear slid down the corner of Fan Changning's eye. "He even said to let my heart be at ease, promising that he would never touch my sister and brother-in-law." She let out a soft laugh—a sound far more heartbreaking than crying. "Yet he ended up becoming the exact incompetent ruler he once spoke of." Yu Qianqian opened her mouth, wanting to say something on Qi Yu's behalf, only to realize that no words would come out. Because every single word Fan Changning spoke was the absolute truth. All she could do was tighten her grip on Fan Changning's hand. "Changning, rest assured," Yu Qianqian's voice, though hoarse, was firm and resolute. "I will discipline him. I won't let him stray any further down this path." Fan Changning looked at her, her eyes reddening once more. "But my brother-in-law is already dead, and my sister has gone mad..." Seeing Fan Changning like this, Yu Qianqian felt overwhelmed by heartache and guilt. Her lips twitched, yet she didn't know what to say. "Aunt Qianqian," she asked in a raspy voice, "can he ever change back into the Yu Bao'er he used to be?" Yu Qianqian fell silent. That was a question she could not answer. The child who used to run behind Fan Changning calling her "Sister Changning," the clumsy youth who fumbled while lifting the bridal veil on their wedding night, the young man who vowed never to let her suffer any grievance for the rest of her life— Could he truly ever come back? Yu Qianqian pulled Fan Changning into her arms, resting her chin against the top of her head. "Whether he changes back or not," she said, "Aunt Qianqian will always stand on your side." Fan Changning closed her eyes, tears falling silently down her face. Outside the window, the branches of the ginkgo tree stood bare, swaying faintly in the wind. Spring was still very far off. Jian'an Hall. Qi Yu sat alone in the vast, empty hall. An imperial memorial was spread out before him, but he couldn't absorb a single word. He raised his hand and touched his swollen cheek. Yu Qianqian had slapped him twice. From childhood to adulthood, Yu Qianqian had never struck him like that. Even when he was at his most mischievous, she would only punish him by having him transcribe books, stand against the wall, or chase him around with a ruler just to put on a show and scare him. To give him two slaps today—two solid, heavy slaps—meant Yu Qianqian was truly infuriated. He recalled the words Yu Qianqian had uttered before leaving— "Like father, like son—even though you weren't raised by him, your cold-hearted methods are cut from the exact same cloth!" He suddenly clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He was not Qi Min. He was not someone who would slaughter his own wife and son just for the imperial throne. He was not. And yet... Xie Zheng was dead. Fan Changyu had gone mad. Fan Changning hated him. He closed his eyes, and a scene surfaced in his mind—fifteen years ago, when Xie Zheng pulled him out of a pile of corpses and lifted him onto horseback. "Yu Bao'er, what are you doing here?" Back then, he had wept with snot and tears streaming down his face, clutching onto Xie Zheng's armor like a life-saving straw, refusing to let go. Later, Xie Zheng taught him horse riding, archery, and the art of imperial rulership. On the day he ascended the throne, Xie Zheng was the very first to kneel down, touching his forehead to the ground, his voice echoing powerfully: "Long live the Emperor!" ... He snapped his eyes open and slammed the memorial shut. "Attendant!"