Chapter Ninety-Two: Let’s Go for a Stroll Together

A wave of inexplicable sadness seemed to well up from nowhere, leaving Huarong feeling entirely out of sorts. She let out a faint sigh; the melancholy between her brows could not hide the disappointment in her eyes.

Jun Yechen watched, a trace of teasing slipping into his tone. “His Majesty is the ruler of a nation; it’s only natural that his harem is filled with beauties. Besides, you personally delivered that flower to her side yourself. Why, then, do you look so forlorn now?”

There was really no arguing with that. Huarong didn’t know how to respond, and could only purse her lips. “Forget it, there’s nothing for me to be upset about.”

She kneaded her still-aching shoulders, glancing down at the bruises and cuts scattered across her body, feeling even more frustrated. “Drowning my sorrows in wine—what was I thinking? Where did all this pointless gloom come from?”

She had insisted on avoiding the Emperor’s favor, and now that her wish had come true, she found herself in a position that pleased no one, least of all herself.

Throwing back the coverlet, Huarong was about to get out of bed, only to discover her body felt limp and weak. Her head spun, and she nearly stumbled, but Jun Yechen was quick to reach out and catch her. His touch was surprisingly gentle. “Careful, My Lady. Don’t hurt yourself. Even if His Majesty doesn’t care, I certainly will.”

Those words brought a subtle change to Huarong’s face. She shot him a sidelong glance, her expression tinged with wariness as she studied him closely. “What kind of nonsense is this man spouting?”

She was, after all, a woman of the imperial harem. Even if her heart lay elsewhere, there were rules that could not be crossed. If anyone else heard such words, they might easily suspect an improper relationship between the two.

“There’s no need for concern, My Lady. It’s merely a gesture of care,” Jun Yechen replied, easily seeing through her unease and leaving no room for doubt. Huarong could only force a weak smile, looking down at his hand resting on hers, as if it were covered in thorns, pricking her uncomfortably.

“Thank you for your concern, Your Highness, but I can manage on my own. Would you mind stepping outside for a moment? I need to change my clothes…”

Her tone was gentle but firm, making her meaning clear enough for anyone but the most oblivious. Jun Yechen didn’t press the matter, obediently withdrawing from the room. Soon after, Huarong, now properly dressed, stepped out as well, only to find the man still standing in the courtyard, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on the doorway.

Such open, unguarded behavior was only possible because Xuanji Palace was so sparsely staffed. In a busier place, a stray word could instantly blossom into a wild rumor.

“Your Highness, is there something you needed?” Huarong forced a polite smile, feeling a vague, unspoken awkwardness between them. In the past, she might have been dazzled by his looks, but now she felt the need to be more cautious.

At her words, Jun Yechen clasped his hands behind his back, standing in the warm sunlight, which glinted off the slight curve of his lips, as gentle and inviting as a spring breeze. He was, indeed, striking to look at, but the effect had lessened with familiarity; he was no longer as astonishing as he had been at their first meeting.

“It’s nothing, really. I just thought I’d accompany you for a stroll. His Majesty is too busy to spare you any time, after all.”

She didn’t know how he managed to say such things; they carried a peculiar, indescribable strangeness. Huarong lowered her gaze, unsure she wanted to accept, but the latter part of his comment stung her pride.

A fresh wave of jealousy flared. She clenched her teeth, thinking of Jun Yeli spending moonlit nights with Huayue, and felt even more ill at ease. Steeling herself, she nodded. “Very well, let’s go for a walk. I could use a distraction anyway.”

She forced herself not to care about appearances. After all, it was Jun Yeli who had turned his affections elsewhere and left her behind.

The sunlight that day was especially warm, bathing her in gentle gold. The garden blossoms blazed like fire, dazzling in their beauty, and Huarong’s mood gradually lifted.

“These flowers are blooming so brightly. I should plant some in my own courtyard—there’s no need to envy others when I have my own.” Huarong began to consider which flowers might best suit her pastoral Xuanji Palace.

Her murmured musings caught Jun Yechen’s attention, and he couldn’t resist a quip. “For a consort of the inner palace, My Lady finds pleasure in unusual things. I hear you pass your days tending flowers and growing vegetables—what an idyllic life.”

What nonsense. It was only because she had nothing better to do. If only Jun Yeli cared for her a little less, perhaps she wouldn’t have been reduced to this—fussing over plants as a way to stave off resentment. Was she supposed to compete for favor, risking her life for love?

The memory of Jun Yeli’s recent flirtations, and how he had so quickly been seduced by Huayue’s beauty, spending long nights in another woman’s arms, left Huarong feeling even more unsettled.

“Enough. Why do I keep thinking about him? It’s pointless.” She shook her head sharply, as if to scatter her troubles.

Just as she moved on, Jun Yechen called out from behind, “Wait, My Lady.”

“What is it?” Huarong turned instinctively, only to see him holding a pink peony, which he tucked into her hair at her temple. Before she could react, Jun Yechen gazed at her as though admiring a work of art, his eyes full of satisfaction. “As expected—a beauty and a fresh flower are a perfect match. On you, My Lady, even this peony can only play the role of a humble leaf.”

“…Your Highness, what are you…” Their actions felt uncomfortably intimate; Huarong didn’t quite know what to say, worried she was reading too much into things.

Jun Yechen offered no explanation, but his gaze drifted over her, pausing at the jade pendant on her waist. His brows drew together. “My Lady, where is the sachet I gave you?”

His question startled her. Huarong glanced down and realized her sash was empty; her heart filled with confusion.

“Where did it go…”

She stood there, dumbfounded and embarrassed. The gift had lasted less than a day before vanishing—wasn’t that just a slap in his face?

“Oh no, where could it be?” After all, it was a token of his regard. Flustered, Huarong’s memory began to churn. Suddenly, she recalled having given it to a young palace maid who had attended her yesterday, though the girl’s appearance was a blur in her mind—she couldn’t remember which household she belonged to.

Though she had some inkling, seeing Jun Yechen’s anxious expression left her at a loss for words. “If he finds out I gave away his gift as a reward for a maid, will he be angry…”