“In the past I went, willows swaying. Now I come to think, snow and rain falling…” Ye Hui recited for a while, then threw the book aside, rubbing her belly, where an embryo was presumably still developing. It would be strange if the fetus could understand prenatal education. She frowned and sighed, “This strange poem, my son would definitely not like to hear. I’d better have a court musician come and play a tune.”
She patted the big black wolf and said, “Why are you still sleeping? It’s been all morning. I’m really afraid you’ll fall asleep one day and never wake up, and then I’d lose this animal friend of mine.”
The black wolf opened its eyes, licked her hand, then closed its eyes again.
“How dare you ignore me?” Ye Hui felt bored, picked up the book and hit him on the head a few times, then, like Heng Ting, rode on its back and played with the fur on its neck.
The black wolf had a good temper and wasn’t angry. Occasionally turning its head, its emerald green eyes flashing with a gentle color, though Ye Hui had never understood it.
Heng Ting came home from school and arrived at the Yaoguang Hall, angrily shouting, “Mother, what are you doing, bullying the black wolf again?” He ran over, pushed his mother off the black wolf’s back, and hugged its head comfortingly: “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Mother is mischievous, but she’s actually very kind.”
Ye Hui swung the poetry collection and hit her son: “I thought it was too lonely and wanted to play with it. If it doesn’t appreciate that, so be it.”
Heng Ting glared: “Mother hit someone again. I’m going to tell Father.”
Ye Hui pursed her lips: “Go ahead, go ahead. See who your father will side with.”
Heng Ting, seeming to know he would definitely lose, pouted: “I’ll take the black wolf to my courtyard to live, and won’t let it pay attention to you.”
Just as mother and son were bickering, a distant bell sound began to ring outside, one after another, echoing faintly.
The palace bells were generally not rung unless there was a major event, such as a coup or the death of an emperor or empress dowager.
Ye Hui’s first thought was that the old emperor had finally given up his last breath.
Sure enough, Mo Qi walked in from outside: “My lady, the Emperor has passed away.”
He had indeed died. This old emperor had been bedridden for years. He himself wasn’t tired, but everyone around him was exhausted. He should have abdicated to the crown prince long ago, but he insisted on holding onto the dragon crown until his death. Such a person’s death would not garner much sympathy; for him, death was both a relief and a blessing, much more elegant than half-alive.
The narrative continues with details about the succession, Ye Hui’s pregnancy, and her life in the palace, describing her children’s births and her involvement in governance alongside her husband, Emperor Huangfu Zedan.
Huangfu Zeduan returned from the imperial council hall and saw his wife standing in front of the mirror, wearing a thin white satin long dress, constantly checking her reflection. He couldn’t help but marvel – his twenty-three-year-old wife had not aged at all, but instead looked even more charming and delicate, her clean face giving off a refreshing feeling like a gentle breeze.
He embraced her slender waist and sat with her on the nearby couch, his hands caressing her waistline. She felt softer than before, with a bit more flesh, and her skin was smooth and pleasant to touch. He couldn’t help but slide his hand along her delicate skin.
“Husband, do you think I’ve gotten fat? I should probably lose some weight,” said the mother of four children. She could hardly believe herself that she wasn’t gaining weight. That morning, no matter how she looked in the mirror, something seemed off. She had even called for a large scale, with two eunuchs carrying it to measure her weight using the most primitive method. She discovered she had gained seven or eight jin, which left her feeling frustrated and contemplating weight loss.
“Lose weight? Where have you gotten fat? I can’t see it at all,” Huangfu Zeduan retorted. He never used the royal “I” when speaking to his wife, and they shared a simple, genuine marital affection. “Stop worrying about this and think about how to give me a daughter instead of nonsense.”
Ye Hui had four sons and no daughters. She wanted a daughter but was afraid she would give birth to another son.
“Your Majesty, even for royalty, whether you have sons or daughters is determined by heaven, not by your wishes,” Ye Hui said, not to discourage him, but to explain the biological difficulty of determining a child’s gender. Huangfu Zeduan impatiently responded, “Call me husband.”
The rest of the passage continues in this intimate, personal narrative style, detailing their playful and passionate interactions, discussions about having children, and their unique relationship dynamics.
Baohua Long Princess had not dared to come since being expelled from the imperial palace that year. Huangfu Zeduan saw her behaving well and did not revoke her princess title after ascending the throne. As for the former deposed crown prince, he had long since died, with people speculating about his death – some saying he hanged himself at home, others claiming he died of fright on a boat. However, the death of a deposed crown prince was not of much concern to these people; as long as they were fine, his death was inconsequential.
Ye Hui felt that the deposed crown prince’s death was inseparable from her second husband, but she did not want to dwell on it.
Huangfu Zeduan frowned again: “The empress cannot refuse to take in a man. She must take at least one! My third martial brother even knelt in the Taihe Hall begging to live in Changleong Palace. We all grew up together, so it would not be good to refuse.”
Third martial brother, Chu Yu!
Ye Hui had not seen him for a long time. After accidentally discovering his secret that year, she never went to Ares Tavern again. She had only exchanged casual greetings when occasionally seeing him on the street.
Ye Hui, feeling a bit sleepy today without her afternoon nap, yawned and said: “Isn’t your fourth martial sister fond of him? You can arrange a marriage for them.”
Huangfu Zeduan looked at his sleeping wife, feeling somewhat helpless. She thought he was the greatest king in the world, capable of handling anything. But in fact, there was one person who could control him – his master, Tianqi Daoren. The old man was best at meddling; if he were to exclude the third martial brother, the old man would jump up in protest before anyone else could complain.
Tianqi Daoren was not serious about managing Tianying Gate and had no interest in official duties. His only virtue was being protective, showing extraordinary care for the disciples of his sect.
The next day, Ye Hui prepared to leave the palace to visit the Qin family’s second elders.
“Mother,” eight-year-old Hengting entered Changleong Palace, immediately hugging Ye Hui and crying with teary eyes: “Black Wolf is dying. Please save him!”
Canine animals generally have short lifespans, with wolves and dogs living around 12-16 years, and wolf raised by humans potentially living up to 20 years.
Ye Hui did not know Black Wolf’s exact age, but seeing that he had barely any teeth left, she estimated he was quite old.
All life in nature faces death, with no animal or plant able to escape it.
Ye Hui arrived at the Eastern Palace. Hengting, now the crown prince, owned the Yaoguang Hall. Since childhood, he had been close to Black Wolf, even treating him like a sibling or family member.
