Taichang Ming Dynasty

Chapter 717 Nightmare
Park Chan breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she had made the right bet. She quickly crawled two steps to the emperor's side and carefully placed the unfolded memorial on his lap. Her slender finger pointed to a line of text—it was Lee Kyung-cheon's accusation against King Lee Hun for murdering his elder brother, Prince Imhae, Lee Jin.

“Your Majesty, please look here,” Park Chan’s voice carried just the right amount of surprise and a hint of lingering fear. “When my sister and I were in Hanyang, we heard rumors circulating in the streets that… that Your Majesty, in order to consolidate your throne, had instructed cruel officials to murder Prince Imhae, whom you had imprisoned. However, we never dared to believe such a horrifying thing, and only thought it was just gossip in the marketplace.”

Upon hearing this, the emperor raised an eyebrow and asked with a hint of amusement, "How old were you all when this Lord Linhai died? How come you remember him for so long?"

Zhu Changluo didn't know when Linhai Jun died, nor did he know that Linhai Jun's full name was Li Jin. However, he did know when Li Hui ascended the throne. If we work backward from that, then when Li Jin died, the two sisters were probably only a few years old.

“Your Majesty, when Prince Limhae died, my sister and I were indeed young and ignorant.” Park Chun quickly glanced back at her sister. Park Kuo still had her head down, so Park Chun couldn’t see her expression, but her ten curled-up toes seemed to quietly relax. “...But similar rumors have never ceased circulating. Moreover, during the years of the King’s reign, members of the royal family and nobles have been repeatedly convicted and killed. People are quietly discussing that this is...a purge of those who might threaten his position.”

The Emperor nodded slightly, gazing at Park Chan's beautiful profile with a scrutinizing look: "Good Chan'er. I asked you about the situation in Joseon before. You always said that as a woman, you were ignorant of worldly affairs. How come you are speaking so knowledgeably now?"

Park Chan's heart clenched instantly! She felt the sharpness in the emperor's gaze.

In a flash, a perfectly timed blush and aggrieved expression appeared on Park Chan's face. Her voice was soft as she explained, "Your Majesty... you are so busy with state affairs. I only wished to spare you the trouble of gossiping and causing you unnecessary worry, out of consideration for your hard work. But now..." She pointed to the memorial on her lap, her expression becoming serious and worried, "...a subject has risked his life to accuse our monarch of fratricide! Faced with such a matter concerning the fate of the nation and the fundamental principles of morality, if I were to remain silent and fail to share Your Majesty's burdens, I would truly be... ignorant of the bigger picture and unworthy of being a wife."

These words were indeed impeccably spoken, exquisitely beautiful. The scrutinizing look on the emperor's face gradually faded, replaced by obvious pleasure. He suddenly reached out and pulled Pu Chan, who was kneeling at his feet, up, drawing her into his arms. He chuckled softly, "Your little mouth is getting better and better at sweet-talking." Holding her warm, soft body, his fingers caressed her chin as he asked, "Then do you know why Li Qingquan chose this particular time to submit such a memorial?"

Park Chan nestled in the emperor's arms, feeling the vibrations of his chest, and gently shook her head. "I am foolish and truly do not know."

"Heh," the emperor chuckled lightly, his eyes indifferent. "He's just kicking a dog when it's down."

“Beat...a drowning dog?” Park Chan repeated the phrase, her eyes full of confusion.

The emperor looked down at her bewildered expression, a meaningful smile curving his lips: "Your king, that traitor named Yi Hun, has been deposed by me. Right now, he's probably under house arrest in some small courtyard by the army supervising Korea."

Park Chan's body stiffened abruptly in the emperor's arms!
She slowly raised her head, her face drained of color. Her once gentle and lively eyes were instantly filled with immense shock and disbelief, her pupils contracting violently as if she had heard the most unbelievable thunderclap in the world. She gazed at the emperor so close to her, his familiar face now appearing utterly strange and majestic. Her gaze shifted repeatedly, from bewilderment to horror, and then to a deep-seated awe and fear, as if for the first time she truly understood the immense power, the absolute authority to control life and death, wielded by the man embracing her.

--------

The early summer morning light filtered through the delicate window frames, casting dappled shadows on the floor of Chuxiu Palace. The lingering fragrance of the previous night remained inside; the coolness of the ice chest had completely dissipated, and the air had become sticky again.

Park Chan's chest heaved violently, and her forehead was covered in a fine layer of cold sweat. Her heavy breathing was punctuated by suppressed sobs, as if she were struggling against an invisible noose.

She dreamt of that dirty alley, and the murky look in her father's eyes when he took the money bag was branded into the depths of her soul.

She dreamt she was locked in that ornately decorated yet chillingly cold "Fragrance Pavilion." Inside, the scent of cosmetics was nauseatingly strong. The madam's sharp rebukes, the pain of the ruler striking her palms, the daily grind of music, chess, calligraphy, painting, and etiquette training—these felt like heavy shackles binding her heart. They were meticulously crafted, all to fetch a good price on the night of their "combing" (a euphemism for sexual intercourse)...

The dream abruptly shifted, instantly transporting the filthy Drunken Moon Pavilion to the majestic Forbidden City.

Here, they lived in luxury, and no one dared to raise their voices at them, let alone whip them. They no longer had to serve different men like the other "sisters" in the brothel. The most noble man in the world would never share them with anyone. His favor was their shield, the only source of warmth within these cold palace walls. This period after entering the palace was filled with a peace and security she had never dared to dream of before…

The dream twisted and changed color, finally settling on the emperor's cold and furious face! He knew! A secret report arrived, and the emperor finally learned of the sisters' lowly and sordid origins, that they had once been prostitutes waiting to be sold in brothels!
The hands that had been gently caressing her suddenly slapped her hard. The slap landed on her face, her lips burned, and her ears rang.

She clung tightly to the emperor's dragon boots, her nails almost digging into the intricate gold-threaded cloud patterns. But the boots pulled away without mercy, and the hem of her crimson robe resolutely disappeared into the blinding light outside the palace gates.
"No! Please... don't go! Don't leave me..." The broken cries finally broke through her throat. Park Chan struggled to sit up from the nightmare. Tears mixed with cold sweat poured down her face, soaking her thin plain nightgown. Her body trembled uncontrollably.

The piercing cries shattered the morning's tranquility. The emperor, sleeping beside her, was startled awake; he opened his eyes, his brow furrowing slightly.

Almost simultaneously, Park Hyuk, who was curled up on the other side of the emperor, also let out a groan in a daze. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, her black hair disheveled.

Park Chan's unfocused gaze finally sharpened, and she saw the face so close to hers—not the cold-faced, disgusted king from her dream, but her husband who had embraced her last night, showering her with tenderness and protection. He was looking at her, his eyes devoid of the coldness of her dream, only a hint of languor from just waking up, a touch of bewilderment at being disturbed, and… a trace of concern?
The stark contrast brought a pang of sadness to her heart; fear, resentment, and lingering dread surged like a flood, nearly overwhelming her.

"Chuan'er? What's wrong?" The emperor's voice was hoarse from just waking up, but much gentler than in his dream. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Park Chan's heart was still pounding, the aftershocks of fear lingering. Instinctively, she wanted to rush into that warm embrace, seeking shelter and reassurance. However, the cold gaze and resolute back from her nightmare acted like a warning bell, freezing her instantly.

Her outstretched hand froze in mid-air, finally falling limply to the bed. Park Chan bit her lower lip hard, forcing back her sobs, swallowing the whimpers and pleas that threatened to spill from her lips, only shaking her head forcefully and silently. Tears flowed even more fiercely. The Emperor's gaze fell on Park Chan's tear-streaked face. Those eyes, which always held gentleness or coquettishness, were now filled with panic and helplessness, like those of a frightened fawn. Suddenly, the Emperor reached out and pulled her shoulder into his arms, embracing her cold, trembling body.

His warm body heat wafted through her thin nightgown, dispelling some of the chill from her dream. He gently patted her back, his voice low and tender: "What did you dream about, Chun'er? Why were you having such a nightmare?"

Park Chan nestled in the emperor's arms, the familiar scent of his body filling her nostrils, his steady heartbeat ringing in her ears. The warmth and security she felt at that moment were so real that she almost blurted out all her fears and pleas. But the secret buried deep in her heart, like a leech, was something she dared not reveal even in her dreams, let alone now.

In the end, Park Chan buried her face even deeper into the emperor's chest, and lied in a muffled, nasal voice, "I...I don't remember...I just felt so scared."

It's normal to have nightmares, and it's also normal to not remember what you dreamed about. Besides, in these situations, all you need to do is offer comfort.

The emperor raised his thumb and gently wiped away the tears that kept rolling down her cheeks. "Silly girl, what are you afraid of?" The man's strong voice rang out above Park Chan's head, as if carrying the power to calm people's hearts. "With me here, no matter what demons or monsters are around, they can't hurt you."

These words, like a warm current, nourished Park Chan's heart, instantly shattering her strong defenses. A profound sense of gratitude and an even deeper fear clashed violently within her.

She was touched by the tenderness and protection she received, yet feared that everything she had would vanish because of her shameful origins. Torn between these conflicting emotions, she trembled uncontrollably in the emperor's arms, and tears that had just subsided surged forth again, silently soaking the emperor's robes.

Like a child who has suffered all kinds of grievances and finally found someone to rely on, Park Chan involuntarily curled up and nestled deeper into that firm and warm embrace, as if she wanted to melt herself into it and seek the most complete protection.

Zhu Changluo was baffled and felt completely confused. However, he neither asked further nor pushed Pu Chan away. Instead, he tightened his arms around the trembling girl, holding her even closer in his embrace. His firm chin rested gently on the top of her head, silently conveying a sense of calm and security.

Behind the emperor, Park Hyuk, who had also been startled awake, was now fully conscious. Hearing her sister's suppressed sobs, Park Hyuk quickly understood what her sister had been dreaming about.

Her sister's fear was also her fear. Suddenly, she longed for that protective warmth, for the emperor to turn around and embrace her as he had comforted her sister. But at that moment, her sister occupied the emperor's embrace, leaving only her broad back.

Park Hyuk gazed silently at the emperor's broad back, her longing growing stronger. She hesitated for a moment, then cautiously moved her body, like a small animal seeking warmth, tentatively and timidly pressing her soft body against the emperor's back, her forehead against his strong shoulder blades, as if she could share in that comforting strength.

--------

At the fifth quarter of the hour of Mao (5:45 AM), the morning light was already strong, and the palace road in front of Chuxiu Gate was gilded with a layer of golden light by the yellow glazed tiles.

Park Chan and Park Gu, dressed neatly, followed side by side behind the emperor. The lingering fear from last night's nightmare still left a trace of vulnerability in Park Chan's eyes, but her face had regained its gentle demeanor.

Just before leaving, the emperor paused slightly. He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the two sisters' faces.

Without a word, the emperor reached out, his large, warm hand first caressing Park Chan's smooth forehead, then leaning down to place a kiss as light as a feather. Park Chan's body trembled almost imperceptibly; she obediently closed her eyes, savoring the brief tenderness. Then, the emperor turned to Park Chan and placed a kiss on her forehead as well.

Park Hyuk's eyes lit up instantly, filled with pure joy, and her lips curved into a sweet smile. At least for this moment, she didn't have to envy Du Liniang under the Peony Pavilion.

The emperor gently patted the two sisters on the head one last time, his gaze as tender as if he were looking at two delightful kittens.

"Your Majesty, we respectfully see you off." The emperor had just ascended the imperial carriage and had not yet sat down when the two sisters' voices flew over.

"Go back." The emperor lifted the curtain and waved his hand one last time.

The palanquin proceeded smoothly, turning a corner along the palace road. Just as it was about to pass the tall, vermilion gates of Yikun Palace, a group of figures suddenly emerged from within. It was Consort Kang, Li Zhulan, and her palace servants.

Consort Kang, Li Zhulan, dressed in an elegant palace gown, her hair meticulously styled, led a sleepy little girl in a pink palace dress beside her. This little girl was none other than Li Zhulan's own daughter, the Eighth Princess, Zhu Huiti. Li Zhulan's face displayed just the right amount of respect and expectation as she led her daughter out of Yikun Palace and gracefully knelt down by the palace path.

"Your Majesty, I am Li Zhulan and your son Zhu Huiti." Li Zhulan's voice was clear and melodious, while Zhu Huiti's voice had the softness and sweetness of a young child, and a dazed look of not being fully awake.

The imperial carriage did not stop. The emperor glanced at it through the gauze curtain. If it were only Li Zhulan outside, he probably wouldn't have paid any attention. But seeing that small figure trying so hard to imitate her mother's bow, he finally called out, "Stop."

(End of this chapter)