Since ancient times, poets and scholars have loved to describe the sound of time passing: the cycle of withered grass and lush blooms, the waxing and waning of the moon, the southward flight of wild geese, and the eastward surge of great rivers.
Xiao Nanhui had never taken such phrases to heart before.
But at this moment, she suddenly felt those soft, delicate words were remarkably vivid and apt.
More than an hour had passed. The rain outside had stopped; the moonlight emerged briefly before retreating behind dark clouds. She remained with her eyes open, barely moving.
She lay on her side upon the vast bedstead woven with cloud patterns. In her immediate field of vision was the slight rise and fall of his chest; further away was the blurred edge of darkness. In her ears was the sound of his shallow breathing, mingled with the crackle of the charcoal brazier in the room, which only served to emphasize how quiet and long the night was.
If the passage of time truly had a sound, it must be this.
The arm pressed beneath her body had grown numb, yet she did not dare move. The hairpin that had bound her hair was gone, and the ends of her loose tresses were tangled with the dark strands upon his pillow—a knot that felt impossible to sever or untangle.
The heat radiating from his skin carried a power that settled her heart. As the pain in her legs receded, the exhaustion from the long trek from Que City finally surged forth.
Yet she could not sleep at all.
She was not tired. She did not want to close her eyes. She was unwilling to waste a single moment lying by his side. She did not want to miss even a heartbeat.
Unfortunately, his sleeping posture was far too proper; even a conscious person would find it difficult to maintain such a position for so long.
How could someone look so flawless even in sleep?
Xiao Nanhui narrowed her eyes and scrutinized him again, finally discovering a single stray hair escaping from his temple.
Quietly freeing one hand, her fingers moved tentatively toward it. Just as she was about to touch the strand, the man suddenly spoke.
"Not sleeping?"
Startled, she withdrew her hand with the greatest speed of her life, then tucked it under her head in a clumsy attempt to hide her actions.
She didn't know when he had woken up, or if he had even been asleep at all.
After observing him nervously for a moment, she answered honestly. "I can't sleep."
He seemed to chuckle softly in the darkness. "Two hours from now, it won't be so easy to sleep even if you want to."
In two hours, at dawn, the Imperial Enclosure would open, and the Spring Hunt would officially begin. According to royal protocol, once the hunt commenced, it would last for two days and one night. The *Zouyu*—the imperial hunt masters—would drive the prey through the enclosure all night long. By sunset the following day, the tallies would be counted, and the victors would receive personal rewards from the Emperor—rewards paid in solid gold.
What a wonderful opportunity to make money. She really should be resting and building her strength so she could hunt more muntjacs tomorrow, rather than wasting time here, captivated by a beautiful face.
She forced a smile, though it was somewhat strained. "It's fine. I'm not sleepy."
"Is that so?" There was a hint of genuine curiosity in his tone, followed by a moment of contemplation. "Since Minister Xiao has such abundant energy, it would indeed be a pity to spend it only on sleep."
*Hmm?*
Strange images suddenly flashed through Xiao Nanhui's mind. She cursed Yao Yi in her heart—that lecher had been poisoning her mind with erotic art since they were children—while desperately trying to recall Xu Shu's punchable face and his horse that produced an extraordinary amount of manure.
Finally, her racing heart calmed down. She was one step away from chanting a Buddhist mantra to end her stray thoughts.
Seeing that she hadn't replied for a long time, he spoke again. "What, are you unwilling to share a night's conversation with me?"
So... it was just talking.
Xiao Nanhui shrank into the covers awkwardly.
He propped himself up on one arm, his fingers lightly supporting his temple as he looked down at her with half-lidded eyes.
"Or... did you want to do something else?"
"No! Of course not!"
She instantly fell into a state of panicked confusion. Her eyes caught sight of the object on his wrist, and she seized it like a literal lifeline.
"That—Your Majesty, what is the origin of the prayer beads on your wrist?"
She was too hurried; her tone was abrupt and unrestrained, hardly the way one should speak to an Emperor.
She still called him "Your Majesty," but the etiquette between sovereign and subject had long since been cast to the winds.
The air was silent for a moment before his voice rose. "Do you know who Yi Kong’s master was?"
Xiao Nanhui shook her head, looking puzzled. "He has a master? Isn't it rumored that he's an extraordinary man who came walking across the waters of the Boyu Sea?"
A mocking curve touched the corner of Su Wei's mouth.
The image of that monk working so hard to solicit incense money flashed through his mind. Looking at the woman before him—her face earnest and tinged with a certain innocence—he decided to set aside the monk's more unscrupulous behaviors for now.
"Yi Kong studied under Wu Min, and Wu Min was once my teacher. If we are to be technical, Yi Kong and I are fellow disciples in the Buddhist faith. Before Master Wu Min attained Nirvana, he gifted me eighteen sarira, each from eighteen enlightened monks. Including the three from after his own passing, there are twenty-one bone sarira in total."
She hadn't expected him to answer her, let alone in such detail.
Those sarira were clearly precious beyond measure; their origin was bound to be extraordinary. Her previous experience in the Cave of Parting Dreams had led her to suspect that the beads held immense significance for him.
Only...
"Why... give you sarira?"
He paused for a moment, answering with a question of his own. "Based on your deduction, what is the purpose of these beads?"
Swallowing hard, she replied honestly, "Actually, I used to think... I thought Your Majesty was a Living Buddha reincarnated..."
Her voice grew smaller and smaller until she buried her face deep in the covers, leaving only the top of her head visible.
He stared at the crown of her head—where a few tufts of messy hair had sprouted—for a while, then suddenly burst into laughter.
His laughter made her feel prickly; she was both anxious and a bit annoyed. "What... what's so funny?"
He finally stopped laughing, though his voice still carried a lingering mirth. "After what happened in the Cave of Parting Dreams, whether I am a Buddha or a demon, I thought you would have reached a conclusion by now."
Aside from Wu Min, she was the only one who had seen him in that state and had not fled.
"The Majesty at that time was not the real Majesty."
Her tone held a touch of stubbornness, as if she were talking to herself, but her expression was serious.
She was always like this; once she decided on something, it was hard for her to turn back.
Yet he could not help but test her.
To test if her heart was truly steadfast.
"How do you know that the person then wasn't my true self?" His voice regained its calm composure, as if he were speaking of someone else entirely. "Wu Min was a wandering monk. Before his death, he traveled the world with nothing but a bronze bowl. He was already beyond the mortal realm, yet he spent so much effort and searched so bitterly to finally assemble this string of beads. Do you think it was merely to fulfill the bond between teacher and student?"
Xiao Nanhui was speechless.
So, what was it for?
She hadn't been without her guesses regarding the true purpose of those beads. It was likely that some Buddhist power within them counterbalanced the power in his bloodline, serving as a suppression when he lost control. If she hadn't managed to put the beads back on his wrist that day in the Cave of Parting Dreams, what would the consequences have been?
Each sarira had been worn smooth, bearing the marks of long years—hiding a contract of life and death that could not be severed.
But what if the owner wore them against his own will?
Licking her lips, she leaned in to look closely at the beads. "Does it... hurt to wear this?"
She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. It sounded incredibly stupid.
How could anyone feel pain from wearing a string of prayer beads?
There was a long silence.
Finally, he slowly uttered two words. "It doesn't."
She breathed a sigh of relief, though she wasn't sure if it was for the answer itself or something else.
"The Buddhist law suppresses one's nature. If the heart is calm, without sorrow or joy, all is well. Only when the mind wavers due to external things does danger arise."
As he said this, she was right in front of him, staring intently at the beads on his hand. Her fuzzy head brushed against his chin as she moved, completely unaware that she herself was the "danger."
After watching for a while, she finally pulled back.
She suddenly remembered an earlier time, before Ding Weixiang went on a mission to the north bank of the Tianmu River, when he had given her a long, nagging list of instructions. At the time, she had wondered why someone raised in the imperial household had never even learned basic riding and archery.
Now, the answer was obvious.
Ding Weixiang wasn't afraid of him getting hurt while practicing martial arts; he was afraid of the danger that would follow if he lost control.
It was a danger to him, and a danger to those around him.
But in this world, even if the flesh remains unscarred, it is difficult for the soul to remain forever tranquil.
"Humans are born with emotions. How can one achieve a state of no sorrow and no joy?"
He looked into her eyes, speaking word by word. "One only needs to practice repeatedly. In time, practice makes perfect."
She didn't believe him and pressed further. "How do you practice?"
He didn't speak, but suddenly pulled a thin blanket over her face.
"Just like this."
Xiao Nanhui's world went dark. she hurriedly scrambled to pull the blanket off, huffing with indignation. "If you don't want to say, then don't. Why play tricks on me?"
The faint smile remained at the corner of his mouth, but it vanished in an instant. He reached out and smoothed her messy hair.
"Every month, Yi Kong chants a sutra for me. It is called the *Casket Sutra*. It is a product of the Lotus Seal sect of the Southern Seas, taken from the legend of the Buddha hiding in a golden coffin for three days and nights while preaching. it is written to close off the six senses. It is said that if one begins reciting it as a child, they can grow into a person without passion or desire, specifically for the cultivation of those who study Buddhist law. However, this method of artificial tempering is too cruel and contradicts the original intent of Buddhism, so few monks have passed it down since."
She listened intently, then a thought occurred to her. "So that day in the small tent in Lingxi, Your Majesty was actually reciting the sutra?"
He hooked his finger, letting her hair wind and play between his digits. "Occasionally, when situations arise, I take some remedial measures."
"Ah..." Recalling her actions that day, she lowered her head in embarrassment. "I see."
The air stagnated for a moment. After a while, she asked tentatively, "Has Your Majesty ever told anyone else about these things?"
"I have never brought it up, though there are two or three who know."
*Then why... why are you telling me?*
She couldn't ask the question. She had no confidence in the answer.
Sighing inwardly, she changed the subject. "Does Mr. Zong know about this? He seems... somewhat afraid of Your Majesty."
"Zong Hao does not believe in destiny, but he believes in karma. He is willing to pay the price for all cycles of cause and effect. As a child, he was abandoned in the mountains and raised by a doe; since then, wherever he goes, he raises deer to repay that debt. Later, he created a karmic burden involving my mother's clan, which is why he always yields to me now."
What a thing, karma and retribution.
But if there truly was karma in this world, why had the culprit who slaughtered the entire Xiao family still not appeared to face justice?
She felt a sense of resentment, but even more, a sense of dread.
The mystery she had failed to solve in the backyard of the Prince of Xuanyuan's manor resurfaced, tormenting her once again.
The words tangled on the tip of her tongue for a long time before she managed to force them out. "Does Your Majesty know much about Mr. Zong's affairs?"
"What do you think I know?"
She thought she had hidden her probing well, but before him, she was almost entirely transparent.
She lowered her head. "How could I know what is in Your Majesty's heart?"
This time, silence truly descended.
He stopped speaking, and she stubbornly maintained her silence.
Turning over, she faced away from him, staring at a section of exquisitely embroidered silver thread until the first light of dawn illuminated it.
*Knock, knock, knock.*
Three raps on the door.
Xiao Nanhui's eyes darted around, her entire body tensing instinctively.
After a moment, Dan Jiangfei's voice sounded from outside. "Your Majesty, the hour has come."
Xiao Nanhui still didn't move, not even daring to breathe.
She heard the rustle of fabric behind her as someone left the bed, followed by his voice.
"Understood."
She kept her ears pricked until the sound of Dan Jiangfei's footsteps faded into the distance, only then breathing a sigh of relief.
"Is my bed that comfortable?"
She practically sprang from the bed with a carp-leap. Before she could take a step, she was grabbed from behind.
"Don't you want your clothes?"
Her movements froze. She quickly turned around, nodding like a chick pecking at grain. "Yes, yes, yes..."
Her eyes darted everywhere, but she couldn't find the outer robe she had taken off last night.
*Eh? Where are my clothes?*
Before she could find a clue, his figure approached from behind.
He gently lifted one of her arms. With a slide of his fingertips, a sleeve edged with small lozenge-patterned brocade was already on her arm. In the blink of an eye, he had moved to her front, fastening the dragon-patterned buttons at her collar and beginning to adjust the belt at her waist.
He did all this with natural, fluid movements, without the slightest hint of awkwardness or hesitation.
Do all Emperors of Tiancheng know how to serve others by dressing them?
Xiao Nanhui stared at the dead knot at her waist and uttered the conclusion she had been holding back with a trembling voice.
"These aren't my clothes."
"Mhm." He nodded, saying nonchalantly, "They are mine."
Having finished, he stepped back a few paces to look her over, concluding, "The difference isn't much. They fit well enough."
*Fit well? Where do they fit well?!*
Xiao Nanhui tugged at the coiled dragon button at her collar, staring at it. She couldn't figure out how it had been fastened, nor how to undo it.
"This is a black silk robe recently made by the Palace Wardrobe. If you ruin it, you'll have to pay the silver at the Supervisor's Office."
Her fingers, which were currently struggling with the button, twitched. She instantly wilted, her face full of bitterness.
"Your Majesty, an Imperial Attendant cannot avoid riding and trekking. If I accidentally soil or damage it..."
"Then be more careful."
He spoke with eyes as deep as still water, sounding like both a warning and an instruction. Finally, he looked away and took something out from the shadows where the morning light did not reach.
"By the way, I have something to give you."
Seeing the object he held, Xiao Nanhui froze. The haze of the night vanished instantly.
It was heavy, about the size of a palm, with golden openwork floral decorations. In the center, a touch of emerald green swayed and shifted with her movements.
It was the Linglong Casket.
No matter how forgetful she was, she could never forget what was inside.
"Why... why is Your Majesty giving this to me?"
He feigned ignorance, even finding the heart to tease her. "Didn't you want it before? I heard that after I tricked you, you spent the whole night squatting in front of the Prime Minister's manor."
Xiao Nanhui couldn't laugh. "Is Your Majesty joking with me?"
His expression turned serious, though his voice remained very soft. "When we were in Lingxi, I saw you were quite brave. Why have you turned cowardly now?"
This wasn't a matter of being cowardly or not.
In the Lingxi affair, even if she failed, it would only result in her death—one more lonely ghost in the west. But if anything happened to the Secret Seal, she couldn't repay that debt even if she died a thousand times.
She truly didn't understand, and she didn't dare accept it.
"Your Majesty has the Black Feather Camp and Commander Ding by your side. That is the safest place in the world, isn't it?"
"You are right, but I cannot keep it with me for the time being." His tone was steady, each word deliberate. "Despite that, it is as important as my own life. It must be entrusted to someone I trust wholeheartedly. Xiao Nanhui, are you willing to be that person?"
The Linglong Casket reflected a layer of golden light in the dawn, overshadowing the dying embers of the lamps nearby.
She thought back to the beautiful scene of the previous night. The warmth she had been savoring suddenly felt much colder.
Had he been so kind to her just so she would do this?
He didn't offer a reason for doing this, so she wouldn't ask.
"This subject is willing."
With that, she reached out to take the casket.
Unexpectedly, his hand pulled back an inch, his gaze searching her eyes.
"Carrying it may bring unforeseen dangers. Have you thought it through?"
Xiao Nanhui's hand paused for only a moment before she stepped forward and snatched the object, stuffing it haphazardly into the pouch at her waist.
"It's not the first time Your Majesty has assigned me such a troublesome task. Lingxi was so dangerous, yet didn't I come back alive?" She acted as if she didn't care, looking down and rubbing her nose. "Next time there's something like this, Your Majesty should just entrust it to me directly. There's no need to go in such a large circle and waste an entire night. In fact, even if..."
*Even if you did nothing, even if you weren't the Emperor. As long as you asked, I would be willing.*
She couldn't say it.
He was the master of this world's chessboard, the hand that moved the pieces and decided their fate.
She had thought that for a piece like her, he might not even take notice.
"There are matters to attend to in the camp. This subject takes her leave."
Her hair was still half-loose. She stepped into the shoes from last night, ignoring the slight damp cold of the soles, and hurried out without daring to look back.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 驺虞 | Zouyu | Imperial hunt masters/officials in charge of the royal enclosure. |
| 舍利子 | Sarira | Buddhist relics, often pearl-like beads found among the cremated ashes of Buddhist spiritual masters. |
| 无皿 | Wu Min | The name of the Emperor's late teacher/monk. |
| 泊玉海 | Boyu Sea | A geographical location (Sea of Thin Jade). |
| 藏棺经卷 | Casket Sutra | A fictional/specific Buddhist text mentioned in the story (Hidden Coffin Sutra). |
| 缁衣 | Black silk robe | Specifically a black ceremonial or official robe (Zhiyi). |
| 少府 | Palace Wardrobe | Part of the Shaofu (Privy Treasury), responsible for imperial clothing. |
| 赘衣 | Palace Wardrobe | Specifically refers to the department handling imperial garments. |
| 参乘 | Imperial Attendant | A guard or official who rides in the imperial carriage. |
| 玲珑龛 | Linglong Casket | The exquisite container holding the Secret Seal. |
| 秘玺 | Secret Seal | The imperial seal mentioned in context. |
