Chapter 8 Court and a Cyan Robe
"You are making the Emperor chase you again?" Qiao Qingmiao fed a freshly peeled shrimp into Shen Yiluo's mouth. "The Emperor was right. You really have read too many Storybooks."
Shen Yiluo looked interested. Her pink lips parted. "Which woman does not want the love in a Storybook? We cannot look back later holding only regret."
Qiao Qingmiao's eyes shifted. She tested the ground. "Then do you think our feelings are interesting?"
Shen Yiluo spoke offhand. "They are all right. Just not as fierce as in a Storybook."
The words had barely landed when Qiao Qingmiao stood up at once.
Shen Yiluo went still. "What are you doing?"
Qiao Qingmiao left one line, "Read a Storybook," and went into my bedchamber. I propped my chin and sighed. "I think the two of you could be written into a Storybook."
Shen Yiluo smiled lightly. "I also think you and the Emperor could fill one."
"The two of us have not even said we like each other. Written out, it would surely be plain."
"But except that the Emperor never said it aloud, every act of his has announced to everyone that you are his rare treasure."
Something moved in my heart. Heat swelled in my chest. "Where did you see that?"
"Back when the Emperor married you. He left one line in court, the Empress had to be you, and without caring that the ministers impeached him, he married you."
I had never heard anyone say this. I only remembered that I had found it strange then. With a status that plain, how had I reached the seat of Empress?
"How did I not know?"
"Qiao Qingmiao told me this too. He probably did not let people wag their tongues, so no one told you."
My chest tightened until I could hardly draw a breath.
That Big Brother—for ten years I had taken from him without the least courtesy.
I seemed to have nearly forgotten he was the unmatched monarch of the Southern Kingdom, and still he had spoiled me into this shape that did not know the height of heaven or the thickness of earth.
Guilt stirred in me. I had just risen when I saw Xie Linmu come out. He had changed into a cyan robe, trimmed with silver-thread cloud patterns. Between his brows and eyes he looked young and untested. For a moment I felt dazed and could not tell how many springs and autumns had passed.
That year I had sat properly in the courtyard at home. A youth climbed over the wall, bright clothes and a spirited horse, and my heart flew toward him.
He suddenly caught my hand. His brows and eyes were gentle as ever. His voice carried a little excitement. "I am going to marry you."
Back then I had thought marrying him was the natural order. I had not found it rare. I only gave a soft "Oh," and I had not noticed the lost look when the youth lowered his eyes.
Years later I learned that he had just flared up in court in order to marry me, yet he had brought me none of that mood. Between his words he had sounded easy.
I had a feeling he had believed then that I did not like him that much. That was why he had looked so disappointed.