Chapter 39: Sharing the Same Bed

Upon returning to the Protectorate Mansion, Fang Han prepared to rest, but Lin Qingwei arrived at his room, clutching her quilt.

This came as a pleasant surprise to Fang Han—he was even a little stirred.

Lin Qingwei’s face flushed, and she looked down, whispering, "I... I cannot sleep."

Fang Han took the quilt from her hands and set it aside, inviting her into his own bed. "My lady, please, rest."

Seeing the smile on Fang Han's face, Lin Qingwei blushed even deeper. She was not yet ready to give herself to him. After all, they had not even held a grand wedding. Even ordinary women expected a proper wedding night, let alone a princess.

Lin Qingwei retrieved her quilt, spread it over a nearby chair, and sat down, curling her entire body inside it. "I simply cannot sleep; I wanted to find someone to talk to."

Fang Han understood her reservations and knew the timing was not right. The Southern Frontier had yet to be pacified, and they had not celebrated their union properly. It was not just Lin Qingwei who was hesitant; he himself did not wish to broach such matters at this moment.

He walked over to the chair and lifted Lin Qingwei, quilt and all, carrying her to the bed.

Lin Qingwei felt deeply uneasy. She struggled for a moment, then closed her eyes, bracing herself for what might follow. But Fang Han merely smiled and said, "Do not worry. Just go to sleep."

With her eyes closed, Lin Qingwei suddenly burst into tears. She could not sleep because the emotions she had suppressed for so long were finally erupting, and she desperately needed a place to let them out.

"Since I was a child, my father the Emperor and my mother the Empress never loved me. Lin Qingxue always bullied me," she sobbed. "I never understood why they treated me this way. Later, I heard people in the palace whispering that I was a Rakshasa—an omen of misfortune that would bring disaster to the Great Zhou. My father once wanted to execute me, but he feared the wrath of Heaven. Then my mother died, and my maternal clan began to speak up for me in court. I knew they only wanted status in the palace; they never truly cared for me. Even the palace maids, who served me to my face, would speak ill of me behind my back."

"I wanted so badly to tell them that I am not a Rakshasa, not an omen of misfortune. But I was born this way. I cannot bear the sunlight. When Lin Qingxue sent me to the Southern Frontier with you, I thought, 'Finally, I am to be liberated.' But now, I do not want to die. I want to tell everyone that I am not a Rakshasa. I am not a curse."

"I want to make the Southern Frontier strong, return to the capital, and tear Lin Qingxue from the throne. We shall become the emperors ourselves. Will you help me?"

***

Listening to Lin Qingwei as she wept and spoke, Fang Han felt a pang of heartache. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his arms, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. He had once staked everything on an Empress, only to be betrayed. Yet, it was that very betrayal that had led him to this young princess. One day, he would return to the capital in triumph.

"Enough, do not cry. A dignified little princess, dismissed as an omen of misfortune—how can you be crying?"

"I am not an omen," Lin Qingwei whispered in defense, though her voice lacked conviction.

Fang Han had claimed he could cure her "Rakshasa affliction," but he had been too busy to develop an antidote, and even the medicinal herbs he had been cultivating were not growing well. Lin Qingwei, once full of hope, now felt a creeping sense of dread. What if Fang Han was wrong? What if the antidote could never be created? If that happened, she would be nothing more than the loathed Rakshasa once again.

"Fang Han," she said, opening her eyes to look at him. She wanted to ask if he was truly certain, if there really was a cure for the Rakshasa curse. But she feared the answer; if even the imperial physicians could not solve it, how could there possibly be a cure? She was terrified of the truth.

Fang Han smiled. "Do not worry. With Sun Shengyuan here, there is no need to worry about the herbs. Once the New Year passes and the weather warms, we can begin the refinement."

Hearing a concrete timeline, Lin Qingwei felt her worries dissolve. Exhaustion washed over her, and she soon drifted off to sleep. Fang Han yawned, pulled up the quilt, and tucked himself in. Winter nights were cold, after all; it was only natural to sleep together for warmth.

The next morning, Lin Qingwei felt something amiss. She opened her eyes to find Fang Han sleeping right beside her. She was startled and tried to scramble away, but Fang Han pulled her back into his embrace.

"On such a cold morning, my lady, you should sleep a little longer."

Fang Han had actually been awake for some time, but seeing that Lin Qingwei was still asleep, he had pretended to be slumbering. Held in his arms, Lin Qingwei remembered everything she had said the previous night, and her face turned a deep shade of crimson.

"Are... are you not busy today?"

Fang Han yawned. Having feigned sleep for so long, he actually found himself feeling drowsy now.

***

It was the first day of the New Year celebrations, and he was not particularly busy. Even if there were tasks, they would not begin until he evaluated the scholars in a few days. For now, the burden fell on Su Zihuan and the other officials.

This was their first time serving as examiners—a position of supreme honor back in the capital. They were tasked with setting questions for all the scholars in the land. While the Southern Frontier could not compare to the entire Great Zhou, dozens of scholars had gathered there in recent days—men who had spent over a decade studying in the deep mountains while fleeing the ravages of war. The pressure of examining them was immense.

In the government office, the officials sat in a circle, each accompanied by a junior clerk tasked with taking notes. This had been the routine for days. Despite this, they had only managed to finalize a dozen questions, all focused on the current situation in the Southern Frontier. These were far from sufficient.

"Today is the start of the New Year celebration," one official remarked with a sigh.

"Indeed. How many years has it been since we truly saw a New Year?"

"Let us make haste and finalize more questions."

"Gentlemen, I suddenly thought of something last night. Could we perhaps broaden our horizons? Must we limit ourselves to the Southern Frontier?"

As soon as he spoke, every official turned their gaze toward him. Su Zihuan asked, "Do you mean we should set questions regarding how to govern now that the Great Zhou is in a state of flux?"

"But we have lost contact with the imperial court for so long; we have no idea what the world outside is like."

"True. Even these advanced farming techniques were brought by the Protector. Outside of the Southern Frontier, we are blind."

The officials debated the issue until the man who had proposed the broader view spoke up again. "I hear the Kingdom of Liang is at war and their borders are undefended. Perhaps we could use this as a topic to assess their grasp of military strategy."

The officials’ eyes lit up. Assessing military aptitude was indeed an excellent idea. However, they were civil officials; they could offer advice on military matters, but commanding an army was beyond them.

In the end, they decided to report the matter to Fang Han and summon their respective subordinates to the government office to finalize the examination questions.

Fang Han and Lin Qingwei lingered in bed for over an hour before finally rising. Fang Han had intended to observe the New Year festivities. Though the peak of the celebration would be at night, the atmosphere during the day would reflect the people's attitude toward the event.

Just as he was about to leave, he received word from Fang Zheng. The officials wanted to include military questions in the exam and were requesting Fang Han’s presence to discuss them.