Today, miraculously, he put down his pen and shifted his gaze to me: “Ling Han, walk with me in the royal garden.” I was astonished. “Oh! Okay!” I happily agreed. Who wouldn’t want to stroll with a handsome man, especially for someone who loves color and has been cooped up in a room for days?
I quickly put the ingots in my bag, skillfully tied it, and was about to leave when he said, “You don’t need to bring the bag.” I immediately hugged my precious bag: “I need to! It’s absolutely necessary! This contains my entire fortune! My lifeline!”
He pushed open the door and walked out, feeling cold. My impression of him was neutral; I neither liked nor disliked him. Although I didn’t appreciate overly silent individuals, his quietness spared me from constant explanations, which suited me. In my view, his silence was preferable to someone who was overly talkative.
Autumn had arrived, and the flowers in the imperial garden had withered, their pale yellow leaves reflecting sadness and loneliness. A gust of wind sent countless leaves swirling, creating a desolate scene. I glanced at his face, expressionless yet somehow conveying unhappiness and melancholy.
He gazed at the distant horizon, seemingly lost in thought. “Your Majesty?” I called out. He came back to his senses and slightly furrowed his brow. “Don’t call me Your Majesty when no one is around.” I was surprised; was I considered important enough to receive this privilege? “But…”
“This is an order.” His tone was tinged with dissatisfaction, and I reluctantly agreed. “Yes, but you should at least tell me your name. I’ve known you for so long, yet I don’t know your full name!” “Dugu Shang,” he replied decisively.
This was something I greatly appreciated about him, but what I appreciated more was my curiosity: “Shang? This character doesn’t seem very auspicious.” I could always ask countless questions.
I saw the corners of his mouth slightly lift. This was the first time I had seen him smile since knowing him. “Perhaps… it really is like that.”
