"Phew..."
Liu Che exhaled a long, slow breath before finally climbing out of bed. He watched the silk quilt bulge here and there until, at last, a single hand poked out from beneath the layers.
He stared at the hand for a moment, a look of lingering, primal satisfaction crossing his face. "Behave yourself," he murmured.
After another moment of rustling, a head emerged. A’Jiao’s face was flushed a deep crimson, and her voice rose to a sharp pitch. "Liu Che, were you trying to smother me to death?" Her head was still spinning from the lack of air.
Liu Che, clad only in his inner robe, ignored her. He walked straight toward the bathhouse partitioned off within the bedchamber. After such a tumultuous bout, he was slick with sweat; he couldn't possibly sleep without washing first.
A’Jiao scrambled out from under the covers. Spotting the trousers Liu Che had discarded, she gave them a sharp kick, sending the light fabric fluttering to the floor. Then, catching sight of her own hand, a look of pure disgust crossed her features. A sudden surge of spiteful courage took hold; she hopped off the bed and chased after the Emperor on bare feet.
"I’ll wipe these 'children' all over you!"
Liu Che froze. He looked down to see A’Jiao, with a swift and ferocious motion, wiping the remnants of their intimacy onto his skin.
"Chen A’Jiao!" the Emperor’s voice thundered.
Outside the hall, Yang Deyi trembled. He had no idea what those two ancestors were up to now, but without a summons, no one dared enter. Noticing Yuli’s bewildered expression, Yang Deyi shot her a cold, warning glare. The young female official immediately fell silent. One did not ask about things that shouldn't be asked, and one forgot words that shouldn't be heard.
Liu Che took a deep breath, hoisted A’Jiao over his shoulder in one motion, and strode toward the bath, tossing her unceremoniously into the water.
Yunguang Hall was not the Emperor’s primary residence, so the bath was modest—only about six feet long and five feet wide. However, because the Hall of Warmth had sent word earlier that His Majesty would be visiting, the tub was already filled with warm, clear water, sending up plumes of white steam.
Caught off guard, A’Jiao swallowed several mouthfuls of water. A stinging sensation flared in her nasal passages. She kicked her legs frantically for a few moments before finally managing to find her footing.
"Cough! Cough, cough!"
The room echoed with her hacking. Liu Che stood over her, watching her soaked and bedraggled state until a sense of satisfaction finally returned to him. He leisurely stepped down the jade stairs into the water and called out to the exterior.
"Enter."
Yang Deyi stopped at the threshold, allowing Yuli to lead a line of palace maids inside.
Several maids turned toward the bed to strip the messy linens and replace them with fresh ones, while the rest followed Yuli into the bathhouse. They carried towels and toiletries, attending to their duties with practiced silence.
A’Jiao was still clutching the edge of the bath, coughing. Her eyes were red and watery, though whether from the dunking or from tears was hard to tell. In the presence of the Emperor, Yuli moved carefully to A’Jiao’s side, using a clean cloth to wipe her face and gently patting her back while offering her a small sip of water.
Allowing the servants to remove his remaining inner robe, Liu Che sat on the jade steps of the bath and beckoned to A’Jiao. "Come here. Let me see if you’ve truly choked."
A’Jiao glared at him, snapping, "How about I throw you in and see if you choke!"
Liu Che felt the maid scrubbing his back stiffen for a fraction of a second. Irritation flared in him. "I said, come here."
A’Jiao turned her head away and sat down on the jade steps at the far end of the bath.
The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. "Bring her to me," he commanded in a low, heavy voice.
Yuli looked conflicted, whispering urgently to A’Jiao, "Niangniang, His Majesty is calling for you. Please, just go over."
A’Jiao looked down and began scrubbing her hands vigorously. Still feeling unclean, she grabbed a handful of bath beans and rubbed them into her skin with a vengeance. Seeing the Emperor’s expression darken further, Yuli lowered her head again, whispering more pleas.
Seeing the hopeful, pleading eyes of the surrounding servants, A’Jiao finally stood up and waded reluctantly toward Liu Che.
Liu Che saw her resentment clearly. As soon as she was within reach, he reached out a long arm and hauled her into his embrace.
"Throwing a tantrum every other day... you truly never change," Liu Che remarked. He brushed her wet hair back, and a maid immediately stepped forward with a towel to dry it and pin it up loosely.
A’Jiao took the opportunity to pull away from him, gesturing for two maids to come and scrub her instead.
Wealthy families had long favored adding flower petals to their bathwater. Liu Che’s gaze followed the petals drifting on the surface until it landed on the woman beside him. A few green plum blossoms clung to her shoulder and collarbone, while crystalline droplets of water slid down her porcelain skin back into the pool.
The Emperor swallowed hard. He had lived a life of forced abstinence for two months; faced with such a sensual sight, his mind began to wander.
Through the hazy mist, Liu Che couldn't help but wonder: if the woman before him were truly the original A’Jiao, what would this scene be like then?
Noticing Liu Che’s gaze, A’Jiao knitted her brows fiercely. She slapped the surface of the water, sending a spray directly into the Emperor’s face to snap him out of it.
"Hmph." Liu Che, now fully alert to his surroundings, felt a flicker of awkwardness and lowered his gaze to the water.
***
The next morning, when A’Jiao slowly opened her eyes and prepared to give a comfortable stretch, she realized someone was beside her. Turning her head, she saw Liu Che still lying in bed.
His hair was loose, and A’Jiao could clearly see the silver strands interspersed within the black. Age was showing itself plainly upon this man.
The more she looked, the more a sense of melancholy filled her heart. For so many years, the image she had held firmly in her mind was that of the arrogant, high-spirited youth. Even though he still held his back straight and spoke with a booming voice, the moment he fell still, A’Jiao could not stop herself from noticing his white hair and the lines on his brow. She could not stop the thought: *He is old.*
Aging was hardly a rare occurrence.
Perhaps it was because she hadn't been there to see him grow old gradually. A’Jiao cautiously reached out a finger and poked his cheek. In the winter, skin grew dry, and after a night’s sleep, a thin layer of oil had secreted. A’Jiao immediately felt a wave of revulsion and wiped her hand vigorously on the quilt.
She touched her own face; it, too, felt a bit greasy.
She turned and pulled back the bed curtains. A gust of biting cold air rushed in. The charcoal brazier had gone out, and a thin layer of black soot floated on the surface of the water basin nearby.
She shivered and retreated back into the warmth of the quilt. After a moment’s thought, she leaned half her body out again, brushed aside the soot in the basin, and dipped a cloth into the water to wipe her face.
Once finished, she tossed the cloth back into the basin. The water, having sat out all night, was so cold it felt like needles stabbing into her bones.
When Liu Che finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was A’Jiao’s somewhat dry, flushed face.
As Emperor, he rarely saw a woman in such a state upon waking. Usually, before he fell asleep, others had to remain awake beside him; before he woke, they had to rise early to do their makeup and ensure the Emperor saw them at their most radiant—certainly not in this ridiculous state, looking like she had sloppily smeared a giant glob of rouge on her face after a night of sleep.
Except for Chen A’Jiao.
A’Jiao’s love for sleeping in was a habit from childhood. If she managed to wake up, she would arrange breakfast and wait to dress him like anyone else, but if she didn't...
In the early years, he had pitied her and let her sleep. But later on, he simply couldn't be bothered with her. Sometimes he even felt that A’Jiao was better off asleep than awake; at least when she was sleeping, she wouldn't argue with him until his head throbbed.
Liu Che reached out from under the quilt and touched her cheek. Though dry, he could still feel the smooth, supple skin unique to a young woman. He then touched his own face, feeling only a layer of oil and fine wrinkles.
The slight curve of the Emperor’s lips slowly flattened. He stared expressionlessly at the girl’s tender face, a profound sense of indignation rising within him—he was unwilling to grow old like this.
It was a pity he had never seen A’Jiao grow old. He didn't know where her white hairs would have grown thickest, or where her wrinkles would have been finest and most dense.
Liu Che propped himself up and pressed his lips against the woman’s dry ones.
A’Jiao, who had been on the verge of drifting back to sleep, was startled awake. Opening her eyes, she saw a pair of exceptionally bright eyes inches away from her own.
"Liu Che!" she fumed, though she couldn't find her voice to shout.
Their lips and teeth tangled.
Liu Che admitted he had a preference for beauty, but he disliked people touching his face, so he rarely kissed anyone. Furthermore, with the heavy burden of state affairs during the day, he preferred to lie back and let others serve him. The women were clever enough; they would find ways to please their sovereign.
He hovered over A’Jiao, cradling her face and kissing her deeply. A’Jiao was shrouded by the Emperor’s falling hair; she couldn't see his face clearly, only those eyes so close to her own.
Liu Che’s eyes were the one part of him that seemed to defy the passage of time. They were as bright as they had been years ago, filled with boundless ambition and fighting spirit—and perhaps now, a few more layers of calculation.
Liu Che pulled back slightly, their breaths mingling. "Hold me," he whispered, his breath hitching.
A’Jiao dithered for a moment before reaching up to wrap her arms around the man’s neck, pulling him down decisively. They held each other tightly, their bodies pressed close.
Liu Che raised his head slightly and placed a finger between their lips. Annoyed, A’Jiao lightly nipped at his knuckle.
"Jiaojiao, did we really once have a child?"
The man’s gaze was burning, carrying an inexplicable, immense pressure.
A’Jiao’s eyelids flickered. She looked back at him and gave a small, soft nod. Liu Che pinched her cheeks, forcing her to release his finger, then gently stroked her face.
"Che-er!" A’Jiao whispered softly.
"Don't call me that!" Liu Che propped himself up, gripping A’Jiao’s chin. The only feature on this face that truly resembled A’Jiao was these lips.
Thin and crystalline, like the finest fish-glue jelly from the imperial kitchen.
The proverb said that thin lips belonged to the cold-hearted. Yet her aunt had sighed more than once that A’Jiao was the one who could never escape the word "love."
A glint flashed in the Emperor’s eyes. He asked, "What was your name again? I remember your surname was Chen."
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 湢室 | Bathhouse | A historical term for a bathroom or bathing chamber. |
| 澡豆 | Bath beans | An ancient Chinese cleansing powder made from ground beans and herbs, used like soap. |
| 鱼胶冻 | Fish-glue jelly | A traditional delicacy made from fish maw/collagen, known for its translucent appearance. |
| 薄唇多薄情 | Thin lips belong to the cold-hearted | A traditional Chinese physiognomy belief that people with thin lips are fickle or lacking in emotion. |
| 彻儿 | Che-er | An intimate, diminutive form of Liu Che's name, usually used by elders or very close loved ones. |
