Chapter 16
Half an hour ago, finding the noise unbearable, the Emperor rose and left the Rain Flower Pavilion.
“I know you don’t like all this lovey-dovey nonsense. Making you sit here with us is a torment,” the Empress Dowager stopped him and said, “It’s hot today; don’t get sunstroke under the blazing sun. Go lie down in the adjoining hall for a while. Wait until the heat subsides before you leave.”
She then instructed someone to see him out carefully.
As he departed, the consorts glanced at him openly and covertly, their eyes filled with quiet resentment. He was aware of this but paid no mind.
His focus was on state affairs; the moods of women were not worth his time or energy.
He knew the Empress Dowager’s request for him to rest here was not simply out of concern for his health. Among the numerous consorts present, one was surely chosen by her to be sent to him.
He had not expected her to come so soon.
Last time, over the matter of the palace maids, the Empress Dowager had already been angry with him. He wished to avoid further displeasing her.
Moreover, he had indeed been somewhat negligent in producing an heir over the years.
Because of this, not only the Empress Dowager but also ministers from the previous dynasty had been vociferous, submitting memorials almost every month, urging him to enrich the harem to produce more heirs.
Just a few days ago, a censor had even openly brought up the matter in court, speaking earnestly as if he would bang his head against a pillar if the Emperor disagreed. Only several eunuchs pulling him away prevented the incident from escalating, but the tension was palpable.
Their reaction was understandable.
Their line to the throne had not come easily. His father had done well, fathering five children—two princes and three princesses. But now, he had only one child, Prince Ning.
If anything happened to Li Yuanjing, the extinction of the line would be the least concern; what the chaos it might unleash would be disastrous.
Throughout history, many capable rulers had faltered over the matter of heirs; he could not afford to repeat their mistakes.
The jade curtain on the green gauze cabinet swayed gently. Outside the beaded curtain, a full-length mirror revealed a robe embroidered with a magpie bridge design lying there. Beside it, a beauty could be seen only from the slender, pale neck down—a nearly bare, flawless body.
The Emperor sat up, his gaze deep and inscrutable.
He Hui was still rejoicing over freeing her chest from its bindings. After a few deep breaths, she finally felt alive again.
Turning suddenly, she was startled to see another version of herself in the corner—it was, in fact, the mirror.
The largest mirror she had ever seen before was no bigger than a palm, but this one was nearly as tall as a person. It was framed with a shiny material she recognized from a jewelry box brought by palace eunuchs last month. Yao Zhu had called it “mother-of-pearl inlay.”
The iridescent inlay surrounded the entire frame, making the mirror even clearer, reflecting every detail, including a small black mole on her right breast.
Though she had seen her body before while dressing and bathing, the feeling now was different, as if not only she but others were watching her as well.
A secret blush of shame crept into He Hui’s heart. She hastily reached down to pick up the fallen breast wrap, intending to cover herself again.
But as she moved, her arm accidentally brushed against her breast, causing her to frown slightly.
Having been compressed so tightly for so long, the two full mounds throbbed with a faint, almost imperceptible soreness—not severe, but impossible to ignore.
He Hui lowered her head, thought for a moment, and decided to wait before putting the wrap back on.
Yao Zhu probably wouldn’t arrive for a while; there was no rush.
She lifted her gaze again, staring at the soft curves beneath her collarbones. After a long moment of observation, worry began to settle in.
They had grown even larger.
In winter, she could hide them beneath thick, loose clothing, wrapped in heavy furs and padded robes. No one would notice.
But now, in summer, her clothes were thin and light—a sheer layer of fabric revealing everything beneath.
Was she to be bound tightly with thick breast wraps every time the weather grew warm?
At just sixteen, these parts would surely grow as she aged—one year older, one year bigger. What was she to do?
He Hui’s chest rose and fell gently as she gazed at herself in the mirror, recalling Yao Zhu’s words.
“Miss, try to endure it. If it’s unbearable, just rub it a little—it will help.”
When she was in pain at night, Yao Zhu would say this to comfort her, afraid that her delicate skin might be injured. She would warm her hands and apply rose ointment to massage the soreness, but He Hui always refused.
She was not accustomed to it.
Her father, a scholar, spent his days teaching her the three cardinal guides and five constant virtues, insisting that a woman’s body was precious—not her own but belonging to her future husband—and no one else should touch it.
At eleven or twelve, when she noticed her chest beginning to swell rapidly for no apparent reason, she was terrified. She ran to her father’s study, only to be slapped hard and scolded for bringing shame. He forbade her from leaving the house thereafter.
She dared neither look nor touch.
He Hui stared into the mirror, lost in thought. For some reason, she suddenly lifted her arm and tentatively covered her left breast with her palm.
A strange relief washed over her, the ache gradually fading, indeed feeling much better than before.
Yao Zhu had not lied.
Startled for a moment, He Hui then pressed her palm firmly, her fingers sinking into the pale flesh.
Within the green gauze cabinet, the Emperor watched this scene quietly, his lips pressed into a thin line. Sunlight filtered through the gauze, casting a glow that accentuated his sharp features.
On the zitan wood desk, incense curled upward from a burner, the scent of sweet osmanthus filling the room.
The beaded curtain swayed, hazy and intoxicating. The figure in the mirror lightly traced a finger over the pink peak of her left breast.
Like a dream, like a fantasy.
The Emperor was no stranger to such seductive displays. Since his teenage years, his consorts had spared no effort to win his favor.
He had grown numb to it all, finding it tedious.
Yet today, this scene somehow held a pleasing charm.
The Emperor lowered his eyes.
He could not recall any consort in his palace possessing such a skill.
Not intending to waste more time, he stretched out one long leg, rested his right hand casually on his knee, and spoke:
“Come in.”
The sound was like a sharp thunderclap in the room. He Hui froze, stunned.
What was that... sound?
She forgot to blink, looking as if she had been frightened into silence.
After an uncertain length of time, she sluggishly moved her stiff eyes.
In the next moment, as if suddenly realizing something, she hastily wrapped her arms around herself, grabbed the clothes from the floor, and slipped into the corner between the wall and the green gauze cabinet.
Her heart pounded like a drum. She blinked in disbelief.
Was there someone else in the room besides her?
From the sound, it was a man.
Panicked, she hurriedly put on her undergarments, trying to steady herself.
Don’t panic, don’t panic. Maybe she was mistaken, or perhaps it was just a small eunuch resting here.
He Hui closed her eyes, took a breath, and cautiously peeked through the gauze cabinet’s skirt panel.
Within moments, her eyes widened in shock. Only two words filled her mind:
It’s over.