Chapter Six: The Eccentric Old Man

The small figure fumbled through layer upon layer of crimson gauze curtains, but made no loud noise. After quite some time, she finally made her way to the bedside, staring at the canopy in confusion and scratching her head.

“The child you’ve taken in is rather interesting,” said Ji Wuqing from within the bed. His hand had already been withdrawn, and curiosity flickered in his eyes.

Xier was a child adopted in the palace by Yuan Xue, from whom the body’s former owner took her name. Yuan Xue’s plain appearance had never caught the attention of Lord Yu; he was content not to give her trouble, let alone admit to having a child with her.

Blood Snow listened intently to the sounds within the room, secretly guessing what the little imp was up to.

Tiny hands lifted the bed’s gauze canopy, then she kicked off her shoes and clambered up with difficulty. Once on the bed, she clapped her hands in delight. But the next moment, the scene before her left her bewildered.

“Who’s this? Did I come to the wrong room?” the little girl wondered to herself, her adorable brows furrowed. She wore only a short robe, sitting upright at the edge of the bed as if pondering her next move.

“Are you lost?” Ji Wuqing asked, lying where he was, his tone perfectly serious.

Xier jumped in fright, but then turned and glared indignantly at his back. “Who are you? Why are you sleeping in my mother’s bed?” She demanded with great authority, utterly convinced that she had not lost her way, but that this man had taken over her mother’s chambers.

“And who are you? Why are you here?” Ji Wuqing replied with calm composure, as if taking great interest in teasing a child.

Blood Snow was once again surprised by Ji Wuqing’s demeanor. His ease was so genuine, so real, that she couldn’t help but be confused—how could he behave so naturally?

“Of course I’m—wait, you should answer my question first,” Xier retorted, patting her little head, her childish indignation refusing to be outdone.

“I see. By rights, you ought to call me ‘Father King.’ Would you like to try?” he asked with a smile, finding unexpected amusement in teasing a child.

Their conversation drew Blood Snow’s attention, but also worried her. Was there a hidden meaning in Ji Wuqing’s words? If Xier called him ‘Father King,’ then her identity would be... Could he truly intend this?

“Xier, you’re being naughty again.” With this thought, Blood Snow timely interrupted the exchange between the man and the child.

At the sound of her mother's voice, Xier looked up in delight, forgetting all about her standoff with Ji Wuqing.

“Mother? Where are you? Why can’t I see you?” She shrugged off the short robe that hampered her shoulders, stood awkwardly on the soft bed, and, upon catching sight of her mother’s figure hidden behind Ji Wuqing’s tall form, flailed her arms and leapt forward.

“How can you be so unruly? And have you forgotten your manners upon meeting someone?” Blood Snow managed to reach out and gently pat Xier’s back, her tone indulgent yet tinged with gentle reproach.

“Indeed, how should you address your king?” Ji Wuqing looked calmly at the little girl who now stood between him and Blood Snow, his expression shifting subtly, though his tone remained light and teasing—leaving those present wondering at his true intentions.

“Oh! It’s you! The odd old man who spoke with Mother last time!” Xier, cuddling stubbornly in Blood Snow’s arms, turned her head reluctantly. When she caught a glimpse of his blurred features, she suddenly recalled something with a look of realization.

“Odd old man?!” Both Ji Wuqing and Blood Snow were taken aback.

“Huh? Is that wrong? I remember Mother said so. Did I get it wrong?” Xier scratched her head in confusion, lowering it in silent embarrassment.

The room fell silent. The red candle had already burned halfway, its crimson tears trickling quietly.

Blood Snow was perplexed; when had she ever instilled such words in Xier? She had no memory of it.

“Oh? So Blood has said such a thing? I’m quite curious—would you repeat it for me so I might hear it clearly?” Ji Wuqing’s tone was seemingly harmless, but his half-closed eyes carried a dangerous gleam.

How was she to explain this?

“I remember now. At that time, Mother said, ‘Anyone who accomplishes great deeds and acts righteously is a mature person. And doesn’t mature mean old? Also, Mother said that kings who can do great things and uphold justice are all mature people. So, aren’t you an old man?’”

Xier’s explanation was awkward and altogether strange.

“So it’s true—Blood did say such a thing?” Ji Wuqing laughed softly, a hint of teasing in his voice.

Blood Snow was speechless. She had indeed said something similar, but the difference in meaning was quite significant. It seemed she had overestimated Xier’s powers of comprehension.

“It seems Xier truly needs a proper teacher. She should go to Jade Hall—it's the best academy in the Kingdom of Ji,” Ji Wuqing said quietly, his tone almost as if seeking her opinion.

“Though I’m not well-learned, I can still teach Xier myself,” Blood Snow tried to refuse. If she agreed, what status would Xier hold there? Jade Hall was the royal academy; only the children of ministers or royal kin could attend—it was clear what this implied.

But was this something she could decide?

“I know of your talents, Blood, but would that not be too much toil for you? Let the academy’s tutors handle it. I will make sure Xier attends openly and honorably. You need not worry.”

Yet it was precisely this that troubled her. Ji Wuqing surely understood, so why was he intent on doing so?

The morning breeze was cool, but the first rays of sunlight were warm, casting a golden glow over the small procession walking along the palace path.

Four palace maids followed silently with bowed heads, all dressed in pale yellow, like the gentle light of dawn, as if the warmth had seeped into their very beings. Ahead of them, a tall maid in green carefully supported someone, moving in an unhurried, orderly fashion behind the leading eunuch.

As they passed the palace gardens, the group suddenly halted.

“Are the orchids all in bloom?” With a graceful gesture, her hand easily reached the violet flowers atop the high planter. Their scent was delicate yet pleasing, and her jade-white fingers contrasted strikingly with the blossoms, appearing almost translucent under the sunlight.

“My lady, we must hurry or we’ll be late. The Empress Dowager is still waiting for you,” the leading eunuch turned, bowing his head. He glanced briefly at the young woman caressing the flowers before quickly lowering his gaze again, showing his quick wit.

The flowers swayed in the breeze, a purple tide as far as the eye could see.

“Eunuch Yundao, I’ve heard the Empress Dowager is especially fond of the scent of orchids,” the maiden said, withdrawing her hand, as if pondering something.

The Empress Dowager—the present king’s birth mother—resided in the Hall of Benevolence, living a secluded life of piety and vegetarian fare. It was said she adored orchids above all, and needed their fragrance each night to sleep peacefully. Yet, fearing the sadness of wilting blooms, none were planted in her residence.

“Yes, my lady, it is so,” Yundao replied respectfully, though doubt lingered in his heart.

“In that case, I mustn’t go empty-handed.”

…Author’s Note…

There’s an exam today; Tongyan is so nervous.