Chapter 117 – Extra 2: No Wings to Flee (Part I)

 

On New Year’s Eve, the palace was lit in splendid festivity.

Now in his third year on the throne, the Emperor held a grand banquet in the Ziwei Palace, inviting all civil and military officials. Though the feast had yet to officially begin, more than half the guests had already arrived—and more continued to enter.

“Princess Lingwu has arrived—!”

At the eunuch’s drawn-out announcement, Moqi Danliao, dressed in a red gown, entered the hall with her head held high and shoulders squared. Though her three brothers also held official titles, none of their entrances could compare to the splendor afforded to their sister, a princess.

Their father, now titled Duke Wu, had received imperial favor and traveled all the way from the Mingyue Tower to attend court. He followed behind his daughter, visibly pleased, basking in the envious stares cast his way.

The three Moqi brothers could only sigh inwardly—experience did trump youth. If they’d known how things would turn out, what harm would there have been in calling him “godfather” back then?

Once Duke Wu was seated, officials eager to curry favor immediately swarmed forward with their greetings. After all, he had long guarded the remote Mingyue Tower and rarely mingled with court officials in the capital. This sudden attention clearly pleased him greatly.

The entire Moqi family was highly favored by the emperor. Like Li Xiangsheng, the Empress’s younger brother, they were now influential figures among the military ranks.

As everyone gathered around Princess Lingwu and the Moqi men, another cry rang out from the entrance.

“Princess Xianning and Prince Consort arrive—!”

“Grand Preceptor arrives—!”

The Grand Preceptor was the seniormost of the Three Ducal Ministers or Excellencies, the top three civil positions of the Zhou dynasty of ancient China. The other two were Grand Tutor and Grand Protector.}

As Lu Han and Lu Xuan entered one after the other, many in the hall perked up.

One court favorite after another—no one even knew whose favor to seek first.

Since his ascension, the Emperor had recalled the aging Lu Han to the capital and appointed him as one of the Three Excellencies. Though the position of Grand Preceptor held little real power, it was still a top-tier rank—dignified and respected wherever he went.

Strangely enough, Lu Han seemed to have little merit to justify such treatment, yet both the Emperor and Empress honored him deeply. His daughter, Princess Xianning, though mild and unassuming, was likewise favored by the Empress—who had handpicked a husband for her just last year.

That consort was none other than the Empress’s cousin, Li Mingke—a man of noble bearing and upright conduct, known for his restraint and integrity. He had no women in his residence, and his status as a member of the imperial clan only added to his appeal. Countless noblewomen in the capital had envied the match.

Since their marriage, the couple had lived in perfect harmony.

Tonight, Li Mingke attentively supported his wife, now seven months pregnant, never letting go of her hand.

When a few officials approached to chat, he cut off the conversation politely but firmly, his attention never straying from his wife.

Not long after, the final arrival came: Princess Changping.

Mao Yuan followed her father, Duke An, into the grand hall. Though she had now held the title of princess for three years, she still seemed somewhat ill at ease in such settings.

From a political standpoint, Princess Changping paled in comparison to the other two. Most of the attention fell on her father, Duke An, rather than herself.

Once a key figure of the former dynasty, Duke An had brought 400,000 troops to surrender to the Crown Prince, who then ruled as regent. His allegiance had secured the Emperor’s legitimacy and left a lasting mark on the annals of history.

Thanks to his support, the court had issued amnesties to surviving members of the former royal family, granting them noble titles and allowing them to reclaim their names and live peacefully.

All the former movements to restore the old regime gradually faded into obscurity.

Three years into the new emperor’s reign, the people lived where they belonged, and officials fulfilled their duties. The nation of Yan had entered a time of peace and stability.

All that remained was a bit of good news.

But due to the Emperor’s famously unpredictable temper, no one dared to broach such matters lightly. The entire court held their breath, their attention trained on the palace—yet not a word was spoken.

“His and Her Majesty arrive—!”

The crowd immediately stiffened, dropping whatever they held and bowing deeply toward the door.

The princesses all followed suit, kneeling in respect.

Under the moonlight spilling into the hall, the Emperor and Empress walked inside side by side. Everyone in Ziwei Palace bowed to the floor and called their greetings in unison.

Xie Lanxu took his seat on the grand dragon throne. As always, Li Zhi, dressed in phoenix-patterned ceremonial robes, sat beside him on the same seat. By now, no one found it strange. In private, some even referred to them as the “Two Sovereigns.”

This empress had stood by the emperor’s side when he was still unknown, guiding him with wisdom and sharing life-and-death trials. She was courageous and intelligent, loyal and just. Since her coronation, she had ruled with compassion, paying particular attention to the education of the nation’s youth.

In the first year of her reign as Empress, the Emperor—at her urging—established the country’s first Women’s Imperial Academy.

The first students were mostly daughters of royalty and nobility—either adopted daughters of the Emperor or blood relatives of the Empress.

Even those eager to climb the ranks offered their daughters to the academy.

And so, a wave of enthusiasm for female education swept the capital. Admission to the academy became a mark of honor among young women.

Earlier this year, again under the Empress’s influence, the Emperor lifted restrictions on women taking the imperial examinations. Women could now hold official positions not only in the inner court but also in the outer court. For the women of Yan, the Empress had become a guiding star.

Compared to her grace and foresight, few still cared about the blemishes in her background.

“You may rise,” the Emperor said mildly.

The soft moonlight blended with the bright lamps of the hall, casting a pale sheen over his face.

Cold, luminous, inscrutable.

The officials were long used to his unreadable moods. None dared make a misstep as they carefully took their seats.

“Tonight is the New Year’s banquet,” the Empress said with a gentle smile. “Everyone, enjoy yourselves.”

Her calm and steady voice brought a collective sigh of relief. The mood finally relaxed.

Officials took turns offering toasts to the imperial couple.

After several rounds of wine, the emperor began to look weary.

He leaned close and clasped Li Zhi’s hand.

“How long must we keep working tonight?” he asked, his voice filled with reluctant misery.

Li Zhi smiled and squeezed his hand in return. “Tired already? Then feed me a bite of fish.”

Simple enough. Without hesitation, Xie Lanxu picked up a piece of fish and lifted it toward her lips.

But just as it neared her mouth, Li Zhi suddenly turned away and retched.

Xie Lanxu froze, still holding the chopsticks. The officials, however, reacted faster—those holding wine cups lowered them, and those in mid-conversation fell silent. Everyone collectively held their breath, ears perked.

“Your Majesty, shouldn’t you summon the Imperial Physician?” Li Zhi asked, covering her mouth with an embroidered handkerchief adorned with epiphyllum.

Only then did Xie Lanxu snap out of it. “Where is the physician?!”

As he gave the order, he stared at Li Zhi in disbelief. The fatigue vanished from his face, replaced by dawning realization. Still, he dared not be certain—until the head physician from the Imperial Medical Bureau rushed in, took her pulse, and knelt with an overjoyed expression.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty! The Empress is two months pregnant!”

Like a stone thrown into a still pond, the announcement rippled through the hall.

Xie Lanxu shot to his feet. Instantly, all the officials dropped to their knees and offered congratulations in unison.

“Two months? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, hovering awkwardly—half-sitting, half-standing—with a hand on Li Zhi’s shoulder, utterly flustered.

Gone was the unreadable sovereign. In that moment, he looked like what he truly was—a very young man, still learning how to be a husband and a king.

“It was too early to be sure. I only confirmed it yesterday,” Li Zhi said with a smile.

Xie Lanxu pursed his lips, as if holding back a thousand words. In the end, he said nothing.

Instead, he bent down and scooped her into his arms, striding out of Ziwei Palace.

The remaining officials exchanged looks, then burst into warm congratulations. With the Empress expecting, concerns over imperial succession could finally be set aside. As for the Emperor and Empress suddenly leaving the banquet—well, they were used to the Emperor’s unabashed devotion. No one minded anymore.

Xie Lanxu carried Li Zhi onto the imperial sedan and then all the way to Weiyang Palace.

Li Zhi laughed, both amused and exasperated. “Aren’t you going to put me down yet?”

But Xie Lanxu remained resolute. Only when they reached the bed did he carefully lay her down.

“I heard that early pregnancies are especially delicate,” he said, staring at her still-flat stomach.

He looked like he was still dreaming, gently touching her belly with reverence.

“There’s really a child in there… our child?”

“Yes,” Li Zhi said with a soft laugh. “Ah-Li can start thinking of names now.”

“Is it a boy or girl… who knows? What kind of name would fit?”

“Then let’s choose one of each,” she replied.

Xie Lanxu, elated, immediately began to think.

But his joy didn’t last long—he soon grew solemn, crouching beside the bed to hold her tightly.

“I hate that I can’t bear this pain for you,” he murmured, blaming himself.

Li Zhi stroked his hair, smiling. “You thinking about it is enough. That makes me more than content.”

After holding her for a while, he asked if she was thirsty or tired. She shook her head each time.

“I want to visit the Epiphyllum Garden. Who knows—maybe we’ll catch one blooming tonight.”

Though just newly pregnant, Li Zhi’s every wish was now sacred. Xie Lanxu agreed instantly, though he fretted over every step. He seemed ready to carry her in his mouth just to keep her safe.

When they arrived, he helped her down from the sedan with great care.

The garden had only been completed the previous year and featured a single kind of flower—epiphyllum, planted in greenhouses kept warm year-round to ensure perpetual bloom.

Perhaps even the flowers sensed the joy of the New Year—for the moment Li Zhi entered, she was greeted by a sea of snowy-white blossoms.

Petals gathered like clouds around golden stamens, exuding a fragrance only revealed at night. Epiphyllum bloomed in dense clusters like a wintry mountainside. The largest one, the King Flower, towered above the rest—like a moonlit goddess on the slopes of the Mingyue Tower.

“The world may love peonies, but I love epiphyllum,” Li Zhi said with a smile. “No matter how the world changes, it blooms on its own terms.”

Xie Lanxu knew little about flowers, but he loved the epiphyllum all the same—because she did.

Throughout the palace, the imperial trees had been replaced with steadfast pines, bamboo, and these fleeting epiphyllum.

“What you love,” Xie Lanxu said, gazing at her, “is what matters most.”

Suddenly, Chief Eunuch Gao’s voice came from outside the greenhouse.

“Your Majesty, Lieutenant General Li Mingke requests an audience.”

Xie Lanxu frowned and was about to summon him in when Li Zhi spoke, “He must have something to discuss with Your Majesty. This place is too small—go meet him outside.”

“You won’t come with me?” Xie Lanxu asked, raising a brow.

“The epiphyllum won’t bloom for long,” she said. “Besides, I already know what he’s come to ask. You alone will suffice.”

Only then did Xie Lanxu leave the greenhouse.

Outside, he turned to the lead palace maid. “Remain here. Keep close watch. Obey Her Majesty’s every command.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the maid replied solemnly.

With Chief Eunuch Gao, Xie Lanxu soon reached Li Mingke.

The lieutenant saluted, looking a bit uneasy to meet the emperor alone.

After a moment, he said something.

“You wish to adopt your second son into the Lu family?” Xie Lanxu asked, surprised.

“It was the Princess’s suggestion,” Li Mingke explained, “which the Empress approved. She asked that if we have a second son in the future, he be adopted into the Lu family as heir. Given the princess’s noble status, we thought its best to seek Your Majesty’s consent.”

Xie Lanxu sighed internally—so much fuss, and it had cost him alone time with Li Zhi.

“No need to report such matters to me. If the Empress approves, so be it.”

Li Mingke bowed in relief.

Xie Lanxu didn’t linger. He turned and walked back toward the greenhouse.

As he pushed the door open, a wave of warm air greeted him.

Inside, the epiphyllum bloomed like snow-covered peaks, their fragrance thick in the silent air.

But—

A silk handkerchief lay on the floor.

The greenhouse was empty.