Love in Another Life: My Gentle Tyrant
Chapter Twelve
Her lips were crushed under his suffocating kiss, her senses engulfed with a faint smell which she recognised as uniquely his. Xuanji’s heart welled with melancholy and she could not muffle the sobs which escaped her.
From their first meeting, he had always forced her, and today, he had forced her to her death. Now, she could no longer suppress her desolation, as though having been released after a thousand years.
Long Fei-li’s heart seized with a sharp ache. He held her tighter, murmuring words of consolation, trying to soothe her.
He was intelligent and farsighted, imaginative and quick. At the tender age of seven, he had been forced to ascend the throne. But at this moment, the words that left his mouth were incoherent; even he did not know exactly what he was saying.
A crease appeared in the corner of Xuanji’s eyes as she smiled, her eyes meeting his. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against his once more.
Their tongues entangled, and his calm finally deserted him. Desperately, he held her tighter, trying to engrave every memory of her into his mind.
Their desperate embrace was as though they had both forgotten about the world which existed beyond the guards surrounding them. Within this barrier, they could pretend that nothing else mattered but the other.
Awkwardly, Long Zijin turned away, but that uneasy fear continued to gnaw at his heart. He did not know what he was afraid of.
She knew what the two of them were doing! A faint glimmer of redness appeared in the Empress’s eyes as she stared unblinkingly at the floor.
‘Xuanji, even if you survived. Even if, this time, you survived.’ What about the next time? Lifting her head, a wide smile spread across the Empress’s heartrending features.
Qingfeng smiled bitterly, clenching his fists, bile rising in his throat.
With the imperial guards walled around the Emperor and Consort Nian, only the few people standing close by them could see their embrace. Beyond the execution compound, the commoners who were gathered were left confused as to what had happened. Yet having witnessed the Emperor’s thunderous rage and abject despair earlier, none dared to make a sound of protest.
Zhang Jin’s hands were clutched tightly around the fences, the sharp wooden spikes jabbing painfully into his palms, yet he was not conscious of the pain. His bright eyes were intense as he stared at the circle of guards in the middle of the compound.
In his mind there remained only one conscious thought: what had the Emperor done to Xuanji? When the Emperor carried Xuanji out of the carriage, he too had seen the despair and ruthlessness carved onto the man’s features.
A sudden thought flashed across his mind: if, today, Xuanji were to escape the clutches of death, she would surely be reinstated! The glory and splendour that she would receive would be limitless.
***
His mouth still brushing tenderly across hers, he heard the rapid exhalations of breath escaping her. Gently, he released her.
Her hands were weak, so he held her and helped her to sit up. She smiled, raising her hand to wipe the faint smear of spittle at the corner of his lips.
‘Ah Li, remember, no matter how dependable your memory is, just remember, this is what it feels like when I kiss you.’
‘Don’t say another word. I’ll bring you back now. You need to rest,’ he said, his words a soothing murmur in her ears.
‘I no longer have to die?’
‘I granted you a wish. Your wish has not been fulfilled.’ A faint crease appeared between his brows.
‘Ah Li, who am I? Do you know who am I?’ Xuanji suddenly said.
Surprised, he said, ‘Xiaoqi?’
A smile blossomed across her face, her eyes transformed with happiness. ‘Why Xiaoqi?’
‘Because you are the seventh child of your family.’ Warmth crinkled in his eyes.
‘Mm. I am Xuanji, and also Xiaoqi.’
Long Fei-li’s brows drew together. His gaze landed on her hands. She bowed her head, and her fingers which were fisted around his sleeves suddenly tightened in their grip.
He had always been a calm and collected person. It was not in his nature to be flustered, but when the breath of life had left her body, he had been struck with an abject terror and desperation foreign to him. Upon her revival, he had finally regained the semblance of composure.
Now, with her body still frail from her many days spent in the death row, he did not wish to remain here a second longer, in this cold and chilly morning at the execution grounds reeking of blood, surrounded by the gawking stares of thousands of commoners.
‘Let me bring you home. Later, we can speak.’ He lifted her into his arms.
Yet Xuanji said, ‘Xuesong Palace… Is she and her child all right?’
‘Yes.’ His voice was emotionless as he lifted his head, his gaze faraway.
‘That’s good… That’s good, Ah Li, remember, don’t forget……’
He was about to chide her for struggling to speak even in her exhaustion, yet he felt her fingers, which had been curled tightly around his sleeves, slowly loosen.
Her hands, sliding down the curve of his body, fell to her sides.
Fear rose within his heart. He stared at her, only to see that her eyes were shut once again.
His lips twisted into a faint smile.
Resurrection pill.
Wasn’t she already okay?!
He did not say a word, staring blankly at her face.
The wall of guards encircling them had already parted towards two sides, revealing a path.
Everyone stared. The sudden turn of events had left them all disoriented with shock, including Xu Xi, who lay paralysed on the floor, and Jingying, who was struggling to remain standing upright in the embrace of her husband.
The Emperor held Consort Nian within his arms. His head was bent, his hair unpinned and let loose, shielding his expression.
Long Zijin was stricken with horror. The breath of life had left Xuanji once more. Was all of that a mere reflection of the sunlight, dazzling his eyes and blinding his vision, to create an illusion?
If Consort Nian had not revived earlier, that would perhaps be for the best. Now, he did not dare to imagine Long Fei-li’s reaction to this turn of events. Ignoring decorum, he swiftly strode forward, hurriedly checking for life in Xuanji’s breath.
Her breath had stilled!
Horrified, he stumbled backwards, yet he heard the faint voice of the Emperor issue: ‘Zijin, convey my decree: retrieve the thousand years old ebony coffin in the royal mausoleum and redeploy twenty thousand imperial guards. We will depart for Xi Hai’s Xian Yantai now.’
These words, having fallen, caused a ripple of shock to sweep through the grounds.
The Empress’s face was white as she stammered, ‘Your Majesty… that is the coffin meant for you in a hundred years. What are you doing?’
The Emperor’s coffin, carved from ebony wood a thousand years old, was a rare treasure in the world as it could preserve a corpse from decay for a hundred years.
The Empress’s hard stare flickered towards Xuanji, whose lips remained etched in a faint smile.
Abruptly, Long Fei-li said, ‘Madam Duan, you are on friendly terms with Consort Nian. I have something to ask you.’
Those words were tonelessly spoken, but the underlining edge of suppressed grief caused a wave of apprehension to rise in all who heard him.
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ Jingying wiped the tears in her eyes and left her husband’s embrace to quickly walk over to the Emperor.
Long Fei-li asked, ‘How many elder siblings does Consort Nian have?’
A flicker of surprise appeared on Jingying’s face, but she respectfully replied, ‘Your Majesty, Consort Nian is the sixth and youngest child of the Nian family.’
A line appeared between Long Fei-li’s brows. ‘You are confident in your memory?’
Jingying nodded, a minute movement, and said, ‘Your Majesty, our mothers were sworn sisters. Minister Nian….’ Her words faltered, as though suddenly remembering the taboo in mentioning the Nian family after Minister Nian’s rebellion.
‘Continue.’ The Emperor’s voice was cold like cut glass.
Alarmed, Jingying hurriedly said, ‘Minister Nian did not have many children. He only had four sons and two daughters.’
‘Did she have any siblings who died in their infancy?’
‘No!’
Eyes narrowing, Long Fei-li’s gaze fell on the peaceful face of the woman within his embrace.
From the night she became his woman, he had called her Xiaoqi for three years. Then, she had told him that that was her nickname given by her family because she was their seventh child.
Three years ago, he had issued a decree to confer her the title of his Imperial Consort. Though he had given a brief glance at the decree which had been written by his officials, he had not paid much attention to the details – it had been a political marriage, and he had no reason to be concerned with the order of her birth within the Nian family.
Then, he had only cast an unconcerned glance at the decree before ordering Xu Xi to announce it:
As ordained by the Heavens, the Emperor decrees: The sixth child of the Nian family, Xuanji, is intelligent and refined, her character virtuous. She is to be conferred the title of an Imperial Consort and be assigned to Fengjiu Palace.
If, earlier, she had not specially raised this matter, he would not have remembered that imperial edict which had long been buried within the depths of his mind, nor would he have clarified with Madam Duan.
She was the sixth child of the Nian family, yet she claimed she was the seventh.
Even in the moments before she lapsed into unconsciousness, her words had been vague and ambiguous, as though reminding him to search for an answer.
If it were true that Xuanji was the sixth child of the Nian family, then who was the woman within his arms? Wouldn’t it be a fictitious person?
A substitute? Impossible!
Years ago, in their childhood, they had met once, and he had unintentionally seen the birthmark on her body, a small red mole. During their nights together, his lips had brushed over it a thousand times.
In the palanquin, she had indeed died.
Yet, after he fed her the resurrection pill, she had revived. Now, though her breath appeared to have stilled, he could still feel the faintest flicker of a pulse on her wrist.
His fingers were still clenched around her slender wrists, his fingernails unconsciously tightening around the soft flesh of her skin.
In using that resurrection pill, he had not yet received retribution from the Heavens. He did not fear what was to come. Since the pill was an invention of Xian Yantai, then he would set off to Xian Yantai now and bring her back to consciousness, even if she would only become a living dead.
She seemed to have kept many secrets from him. He wanted to fully understand her; he wanted her to accompany him for the rest of their eternal lives.
In the wind, a crease rippled across her robes, fluttering in the breeze. His fingers caressed her abdomen; his eyes clouded like the depths of a lake.
The dead child could not remain in her body.
‘Xiaoqi, we will go to Xian Yantai now.’ Softly, he murmured those words in her ear, his lips brushing tenderly across her ears.
Suddenly, there was a flurry of dust as a of horse-rider galloped into the execution grounds before screeching to a stop.
The newcomer leapt off the horse and swept back the hood of the cloak to reveal a female official. Swiftly, she strode over to Long Fei-li and knelt before him, her voice anxious, ‘Your Majesty, the imperial physicians have sent word the unborn child in Consort Yi is in danger. Consort Yi misses Your Majesty and has been calling for you in her delirium. I beg you to return to the palace!’
Consort Yi – the woman of Xuesong Palace.
Chapter 12: CH 12
Her lips were crushed under his suffocating kiss, her senses engulfed with a faint smell which she recognised as uniquely his. Xuanji’s heart welled with melancholy and she could not muffle the sobs which escaped her.
From their first meeting, he had always forced her, and today, he had forced her to her death. Now, she could no longer suppress her desolation, as though having been released after a thousand years.
Long Fei-li’s heart seized with a sharp ache. He held her tighter, murmuring words of consolation, trying to soothe her.
He was intelligent and farsighted, imaginative and quick. At the tender age of seven, he had been forced to ascend the throne. But at this moment, the words that left his mouth were incoherent; even he did not know exactly what he was saying.
A crease appeared in the corner of Xuanji’s eyes as she smiled, her eyes meeting his. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against his once more.
Their tongues entangled, and his calm finally deserted him. Desperately, he held her tighter, trying to engrave every memory of her into his mind.
Their desperate embrace was as though they had both forgotten about the world which existed beyond the guards surrounding them. Within this barrier, they could pretend that nothing else mattered but the other.
Awkwardly, Long Zijin turned away, but that uneasy fear continued to gnaw at his heart. He did not know what he was afraid of.
She knew what the two of them were doing! A faint glimmer of redness appeared in the Empress’s eyes as she stared unblinkingly at the floor.
‘Xuanji, even if you survived. Even if, this time, you survived.’ What about the next time? Lifting her head, a wide smile spread across the Empress’s heartrending features.
Qingfeng smiled bitterly, clenching his fists, bile rising in his throat.
With the imperial guards walled around the Emperor and Consort Nian, only the few people standing close by them could see their embrace. Beyond the execution compound, the commoners who were gathered were left confused as to what had happened. Yet having witnessed the Emperor’s thunderous rage and abject despair earlier, none dared to make a sound of protest.
Zhang Jin’s hands were clutched tightly around the fences, the sharp wooden spikes jabbing painfully into his palms, yet he was not conscious of the pain. His bright eyes were intense as he stared at the circle of guards in the middle of the compound.
In his mind there remained only one conscious thought: what had the Emperor done to Xuanji? When the Emperor carried Xuanji out of the carriage, he too had seen the despair and ruthlessness carved onto the man’s features.
A sudden thought flashed across his mind: if, today, Xuanji were to escape the clutches of death, she would surely be reinstated! The glory and splendour that she would receive would be limitless.
***
His mouth still brushing tenderly across hers, he heard the rapid exhalations of breath escaping her. Gently, he released her.
Her hands were weak, so he held her and helped her to sit up. She smiled, raising her hand to wipe the faint smear of spittle at the corner of his lips.
‘Ah Li, remember, no matter how dependable your memory is, just remember, this is what it feels like when I kiss you.’
‘I no longer have to die?’
‘I granted you a wish. Your wish has not been fulfilled.’ A faint crease appeared between his brows.
‘Ah Li, who am I? Do you know who am I?’ Xuanji suddenly said.
Surprised, he said, ‘Xiaoqi?’
A smile blossomed across her face, her eyes transformed with happiness. ‘Why Xiaoqi?’
‘Because you are the seventh child of your family.’ Warmth crinkled in his eyes.
‘Mm. I am Xuanji, and also Xiaoqi.’
Long Fei-li’s brows drew together. His gaze landed on her hands. She bowed her head, and her fingers which were fisted around his sleeves suddenly tightened in their grip.
He had always been a calm and collected person. It was not in his nature to be flustered, but when the breath of life had left her body, he had been struck with an abject terror and desperation foreign to him. Upon her revival, he had finally regained the semblance of composure.
Now, with her body still frail from her many days spent in the death row, he did not wish to remain here a second longer, in this cold and chilly morning at the execution grounds reeking of blood, surrounded by the gawking stares of thousands of commoners.
‘Let me bring you home. Later, we can speak.’ He lifted her into his arms.
Yet Xuanji said, ‘Xuesong Palace… Is she and her child all right?’
‘Yes.’ His voice was emotionless as he lifted his head, his gaze faraway.
‘That’s good… That’s good, Ah Li, remember, don’t forget……’
He was about to chide her for struggling to speak even in her exhaustion, yet he felt her fingers, which had been curled tightly around his sleeves, slowly loosen.
Her hands, sliding down the curve of his body, fell to her sides.
Fear rose within his heart. He stared at her, only to see that her eyes were shut once again.
His lips twisted into a faint smile.
Resurrection pill.
He did not say a word, staring blankly at her face.
The wall of guards encircling them had already parted towards two sides, revealing a path.
Everyone stared. The sudden turn of events had left them all disoriented with shock, including Xu Xi, who lay paralysed on the floor, and Jingying, who was struggling to remain standing upright in the embrace of her husband.
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Overhead, the undulating swell of oppressive clouds darkened, bringing with them a billowing wind which across the compound. Gravels of sand, swept up within the winds, stung the eyes of the people gathered within the grounds.The Emperor held Consort Nian within his arms. His head was bent, his hair unpinned and let loose, shielding his expression.
Long Zijin was stricken with horror. The breath of life had left Xuanji once more. Was all of that a mere reflection of the sunlight, dazzling his eyes and blinding his vision, to create an illusion?
If Consort Nian had not revived earlier, that would perhaps be for the best. Now, he did not dare to imagine Long Fei-li’s reaction to this turn of events. Ignoring decorum, he swiftly strode forward, hurriedly checking for life in Xuanji’s breath.
Her breath had stilled!
Horrified, he stumbled backwards, yet he heard the faint voice of the Emperor issue: ‘Zijin, convey my decree: retrieve the thousand years old ebony coffin in the royal mausoleum and redeploy twenty thousand imperial guards. We will depart for Xi Hai’s Xian Yantai now.’
These words, having fallen, caused a ripple of shock to sweep through the grounds.
The Empress’s face was white as she stammered, ‘Your Majesty… that is the coffin meant for you in a hundred years. What are you doing?’
The Emperor’s coffin, carved from ebony wood a thousand years old, was a rare treasure in the world as it could preserve a corpse from decay for a hundred years.
The Empress’s hard stare flickered towards Xuanji, whose lips remained etched in a faint smile.
Abruptly, Long Fei-li said, ‘Madam Duan, you are on friendly terms with Consort Nian. I have something to ask you.’
Those words were tonelessly spoken, but the underlining edge of suppressed grief caused a wave of apprehension to rise in all who heard him.
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ Jingying wiped the tears in her eyes and left her husband’s embrace to quickly walk over to the Emperor.
Long Fei-li asked, ‘How many elder siblings does Consort Nian have?’
A flicker of surprise appeared on Jingying’s face, but she respectfully replied, ‘Your Majesty, Consort Nian is the sixth and youngest child of the Nian family.’
A line appeared between Long Fei-li’s brows. ‘You are confident in your memory?’
‘Continue.’ The Emperor’s voice was cold like cut glass.
Alarmed, Jingying hurriedly said, ‘Minister Nian did not have many children. He only had four sons and two daughters.’
‘Did she have any siblings who died in their infancy?’
‘No!’
Eyes narrowing, Long Fei-li’s gaze fell on the peaceful face of the woman within his embrace.
From the night she became his woman, he had called her Xiaoqi for three years. Then, she had told him that that was her nickname given by her family because she was their seventh child.
Three years ago, he had issued a decree to confer her the title of his Imperial Consort. Though he had given a brief glance at the decree which had been written by his officials, he had not paid much attention to the details – it had been a political marriage, and he had no reason to be concerned with the order of her birth within the Nian family.
Then, he had only cast an unconcerned glance at the decree before ordering Xu Xi to announce it:
As ordained by the Heavens, the Emperor decrees: The sixth child of the Nian family, Xuanji, is intelligent and refined, her character virtuous. She is to be conferred the title of an Imperial Consort and be assigned to Fengjiu Palace.
If, earlier, she had not specially raised this matter, he would not have remembered that imperial edict which had long been buried within the depths of his mind, nor would he have clarified with Madam Duan.
She was the sixth child of the Nian family, yet she claimed she was the seventh.
Even in the moments before she lapsed into unconsciousness, her words had been vague and ambiguous, as though reminding him to search for an answer.
If it were true that Xuanji was the sixth child of the Nian family, then who was the woman within his arms? Wouldn’t it be a fictitious person?
A substitute? Impossible!
Years ago, in their childhood, they had met once, and he had unintentionally seen the birthmark on her body, a small red mole. During their nights together, his lips had brushed over it a thousand times.
In the palanquin, she had indeed died.
Yet, after he fed her the resurrection pill, she had revived. Now, though her breath appeared to have stilled, he could still feel the faintest flicker of a pulse on her wrist.
His fingers were still clenched around her slender wrists, his fingernails unconsciously tightening around the soft flesh of her skin.
In using that resurrection pill, he had not yet received retribution from the Heavens. He did not fear what was to come. Since the pill was an invention of Xian Yantai, then he would set off to Xian Yantai now and bring her back to consciousness, even if she would only become a living dead.
In the wind, a crease rippled across her robes, fluttering in the breeze. His fingers caressed her abdomen; his eyes clouded like the depths of a lake.
The dead child could not remain in her body.
‘Xiaoqi, we will go to Xian Yantai now.’ Softly, he murmured those words in her ear, his lips brushing tenderly across her ears.
Suddenly, there was a flurry of dust as a of horse-rider galloped into the execution grounds before screeching to a stop.
The newcomer leapt off the horse and swept back the hood of the cloak to reveal a female official. Swiftly, she strode over to Long Fei-li and knelt before him, her voice anxious, ‘Your Majesty, the imperial physicians have sent word the unborn child in Consort Yi is in danger. Consort Yi misses Your Majesty and has been calling for you in her delirium. I beg you to return to the palace!’
Consort Yi – the woman of Xuesong Palace.
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