Chapter 16 — Old Dreams on the Dragon Bed

The Son of Heaven would age, while I remained forever youthful. The thing I lacked the least was patience. The Emperor seemed to know his time was running out. He forced his ailing, disease-racked body to summon the court officials, and in the presence of the imperial clan and civil and military ministers, he established Cheng Hui as the Crown Prince. After securing the heir apparent, the Emperor bestowed a cup of poisoned wine upon his own aunt, confined deep within the Cold Fragrance Palace. Imprisoned for all those years, she had remained as lucid and sharp as ever. Before drawing her last breath, she still cursed me as an ungrateful ingot who bites the hand that feeds. Hearing this, I merely offered a faint, indifferent smile. Had she known back then that the niece she personally pushed onto the dragon bed would step over the Phoenix Palace to reach where she stood today, she would likely have strangled me with her own hands at the very beginning.

Perhaps because his final years stirred a dormant yearning for blood and kinship, whenever his spirit felt slightly restored, the Emperor would summon me to his bedside.

"Though Tri Duc is good for nothing, he is still my flesh and blood."

"In the future, let him remain at the imperial tombs to guard my mausoleum for the rest of his days."

I docilely accepted the command: "This concubine understands." He tried hard to open his eyes, attempting to pierce through the facade and read any lingering emotion on my face. Yet, besides absolute docility, there was nothing else to be found. That night, the grand Tai Chi Hall blazed with endless candlelight. The Emperor lay upon the dragon bed, the light fading gradually from the depths of his eyes. The very gaze that had once interrogated empresses, deposed crown princes, and terrified the entire court into trembling silence now dissolved into a cloudy, lifeless film. As the candlelight flickered near its end, he suddenly reached out a trembling hand, grasping aimlessly into the empty air.

"A Hanh..."

"My A Hanh..."

I leaned closer, gently taking his hand in mine.

"Your Majesty, A Hanh has come to guide you home."

Hearing my words, the lingering resistance deep within his eyes slowly melted away. A monarch of a generation, he finally closed his eyes and surrendered his last breath, lulled by a gentle lie. I looked down at him, my heart devoid of warmth, untouched by sorrow. Men who possess rivers and mountains, who hold the absolute throne of the empire, wait until they have everything before they begin playing the part of the devoted lover. Knowing full well that he was mistaking me for another, when did he ever truly show a willingness to relinquish the power resting in his palms? The A Hanh dwelling in his memories was perhaps pure, precisely because she had died young. The dead hold no resentment, nor do they pose questions. The living, locked in bitter struggle and ambition, could never move a man's heart in quite the same untainted way.

Yet, what right did I have to judge him? Could I have survived to see this very day if not for his belated, nostalgic dream?

The solemn bell tolling for the demise of the Son of Heaven reverberated across the capital. My very first decree as the supreme matriarch echoed forth from the Tai Chi Hall.

"Transmit the Dowager Empress's decree."

"Strip the Crown Prince, Yuan Tri Duc, of his status, bestow upon him a cup of poisoned wine, posthumously confer upon him the title of Prince Dung, and inter him in the lesser royal tombs."

If Yuan Tri Duc were allowed to draw breath for even a single day, he would serve as a beacon for those dissatisfied with the young new emperor. Such a hidden peril must never be left behind for my son.

Outside the hall, the winter sky tore through the heavy clouds, and melted snow trickled down the subterranean drainage canals. None could ever truly see what secrets had been buried beneath the stones. I reached out, gently adjusting the collar of the mourning garments draped over Cheng Hui.

"Let us go."

"It is time for them to pay homage to the new sovereign."

The lingering tolls of the funeral bells had not yet faded when a brand-new dynasty rose to take its place. Along the long path forward, upon the very flagstones where I once knelt in subservience, countless courtiers now dropped to their knees before me. As for the debts of love and hatred left behind by those of the past, what did they have to do with me anymore?