It turns out there truly exist a sentence, a few words, that can break one’s heart.
Yan Xiaohan thought in panic: “Was this written for me?”
He was like a person nearly frozen in an icy wilderness who suddenly sees a glimmer of light at the moment of despair—whether an illusion or phosphorescence, it seemed like grasping the last lifeline.
The handwriting had already blurred the original shape, with absolutely no distinguishing features, but Yan Xiaohan still stared fixedly at those four characters, his gaze burning, as if he wanted to burn a hole through the white silk. Gradually, his boiling emotions settled, and Yan Xiaohan let out a long breath, his tense shoulders slowly relaxing. Only then did he realize that in the cold weather, he was drenched in sweat.
He carefully folded the white silk and put it away, as if drawing a bit of warmth and strength from it, and slowly walked towards his residence.
In the blink of an eye, the new year had arrived. Due to the previous year’s war and turmoil, with the country in peril, all palace ceremonies this year were simplified. Emperor Changzhi offered sacrifices to heaven and prayed, issued an edict to exempt grain taxes in Jiangnan, and granted a general amnesty. On the sixth day, Concubine Xue was pregnant – the first child in the new dynasty’s new year, which was an extremely auspicious sign. Emperor Changzhi was overjoyed, promoting her to Virtuous Concubine and generously rewarding her father, brothers, and family.
Yan Xiaohan felt uncomfortable upon hearing this news and privately sought out a palace eunuch serving the empress to inquire. He now nominally led the forbidden army, but due to the emperor having no one else to rely on, the internal palace had no senior eunuch in charge, and external affairs still had to follow Yan Xiaohan’s orders. He was like the emperor’s rear courtyard manager, managing both household staff and servants.
