The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

Evening drums and morning bells, the setting sun casting a gentle glow.

Inside the Chengtian Hall, all was silent. The last rays of the setting sun streamed through the carved windows, casting a soft golden-red hue over the furnishings. Amidst the shifting light and shadow, a figure in black sat serenely behind the dragon-headed desk, his expression calm and composed, like a towering mountain.

Tang Xiye did not stop Shen Yan from recognizing her ancestors and returning to her clan.

He didn't even ask another question.

"Let the Imperial Clan Court choose a date to include it in the imperial genealogy."

He put down his vermilion brush, his tone indifferent, as if he were giving an order for something utterly mundane. His voice carried the composure and aloofness unique to emperors, neither too loud nor too soft, yet it possessed a weight that commanded respect and silence.

"These are trivial matters; there's no need to bother me."

He had known for a long time that Shen Yan was the late emperor's daughter who had been separated from her family.

But so what?

The late emperor was fond of women and lived a life of amorous pursuits, fathering countless children. These children were scattered throughout the Nine Provinces, some even dying without knowing their origins. Those who had the opportunity to approach him and prove their identities were granted a title by him.

That's all.

Favor?

No.

Favor?

No, there isn't.

Don't even dream of seeing him.

He never showed any extra affection for his brothers and sisters whom he had never met.

After all, his relationship with the late emperor was never good.

Tang Xiye lowered her eyes, gazing at the stack of unfinished memorials on the table, her thoughts drifting far away.

Drifting back to a long, long time ago.

He didn't understand when he was a child.

He didn't understand why his father's gaze was always so complex—stern, scrutinizing, and sometimes even flashing with a hint of hatred he couldn't decipher. That hatred came and went quickly, often only for a moment before being overshadowed by other emotions.

He thought it was because he wasn't good enough.

So they worked even harder, studied even more diligently, and tried even harder to prove that they deserved that position.

But the whip still came down.

Sometimes it was because his essays weren't impressive enough, sometimes it was because he lost to others in horsemanship and archery, and sometimes there was no reason at all. It was just that his father was in a bad mood, so he would summon him and give him a severe beating.

He knelt there, gritting his teeth, without uttering a sound.

But in my heart I was thinking, what did he not do well enough?

Every time he was punished for no reason, it was his Zhizhi who would apply medicine to him with red eyes.

The little dumpling stumbled in, and when she saw the wound on his back, tears streamed down her face. As she cried, she carefully blew on the wound, her little mouth pouting like a kitten guarding its food.

"Waaaaah... Brother, you must be in so much pain!"

"Let Zhizhi blow on your brother's chest... and the pain will go away."

She cried so hard she could barely breathe. Even though he was the one who got beaten, he didn't shed a single tear, but she felt like she was breaking.

Looking at her like that, his heart suddenly softened.

"Don't cry, Zhizhi, your brother isn't in pain."

He always coaxed her gently like that.

She cried herself to sleep and fell into a deep sleep in his arms, her small body curled up in a ball, her little hands still tightly clutching his clothes.

He embraced that soft warmth, gazing at the deep night outside the window.

It was as if I had truly forgotten all the pain.

Later, he overheard his mother's conversation with Granny Lan and finally understood.

It turns out he was not the late emperor's son.

It turns out that the blood flowing through his veins belonged to someone else.

He suspected that the late emperor knew about this matter.

Otherwise, why do those whips always seem to carry a hint of venting anger when they fall?

But for some reason, even though the late emperor was so ungrateful and suspicious that he had to be wary of even his bedmate, he never once mentioned changing the crown prince.

Not even once.

The late emperor had many sons, and many of them were outstanding. But none of the princes could surpass him, the eldest son and crown prince.

While his and his mother's methods certainly played a role, the late emperor's attitude was equally crucial.

He remembered that when he first ascended to the position of Crown Prince, the late emperor had spoken very clearly, word by word, in front of the entire court:

"The Crown Prince is Xuan Yin. Any prince who dares to covet him—"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over each of his sons present, as cold as a knife tempered with ice.

"I will punish them severely and show no leniency."

In those years, not a single prince dared to harbor any improper thoughts.

It's not that I don't want to.

No, I dare not.

The late emperor was known for his ruthless methods, even in training his princes and princesses, he was extremely strict. They suffered many punishments, and many times it was he, their eldest brother, who pleaded for them, allowing them to escape punishment.

At that time, the strict late emperor looked at him with a complex gaze.

It was as if he was looking at others through him.

"His Majesty."

Yan Ci's voice pulled him back from his thoughts.

The strategist stood beside the desk, holding a stack of newly compiled secret reports. He carefully reviewed the messages presented by the Hidden Dragon Guards, his eyes sweeping over each line of text, focusing on checking for any content that "should not have been reported."

For example, the private relationship between a certain prince and someone.

For example, who did a certain young prince meet today?

Seeing that the Hidden Dragon Guards were very cooperative and only reported Feng Zhuo, omitting everything else, he finally felt relieved.

"Today, during the sacrificial ceremony to Heaven, the royal seal that appeared between Master Bu Ran's brows..."

He paused, looked up at Tang Xiye, and spoke with a meaningful tone.

"Exactly the same as yours."

Tang Xiye took the secret report and paused slightly.

He didn't speak.

She simply lowered her eyes, concealing those complex emotions.

"Master Bu Ran, whose real name is Tang Xi Qing Yuan, was the late emperor's eldest brother and the original crown prince."

Yan Ci continued, his tone calm, yet concealing a deep emotion known only to himself.

"I've heard that he's kind, gentle, and easygoing—a person who is as serene as a chrysanthemum."

He paused.

"He has been a mentor to the late emperor. When the late emperor was young, he lost his mother and suffered a lot of cold treatment in the harem. It was this elder brother who took him under his wing and personally raised him. Because of this, the late emperor always regarded him differently."

"The late emperor had so many brothers, almost all of whom were buried in the imperial mausoleum. Only this one was spared."

Yan Ci added another sentence.

"That deposed crown prince... is quite popular."

Even his father was a follower of that deposed crown prince back then. Even after that prince became a monk, his father still secretly protected him, which shows his loyalty.

Tang Xiye nodded.

He had met the Abundant Master of Huguo Temple.

More than once.

From childhood to adulthood, his mother would take him to Huguo Temple every year. Each time, she would take him to listen to Master Buran preach Zen.

He sat on the futon, listening to that gentle voice slowly recounting the stories from the scriptures, sometimes drifting off into his own thoughts.

At the time, he didn't think much of it, assuming that his mother was a Buddhist and wanted him to absorb more Buddhist influences.

Looking back now—it was actually to take him to see his biological father.

He suddenly felt like laughing.

Based on his understanding of his mother, he knew that if she liked someone, she would definitely keep that person firmly by her side.

He knew Bai Yining's methods better than anyone. There was nothing in this world that she wanted but couldn't have.

Yet, she was surprisingly gentle with Master Bu Ran.

They were unwilling to imprison him, unwilling to confine him, and even unwilling to use the slightest means.

He had been suspicious of the people around his mother, but he never expected that his biological father was actually at Huguo Temple.

Seeing his silence, Yan Ci added another sentence:

"The late emperor must have had some genuine feelings for that elder brother."

"He clearly knew His Majesty's background, but he never revealed it."

Tangxi Ye did not respond.

He knew that what Yan Ci said was true.

The late emperor was ruthless, cruel, and ungrateful. He wiped out the Beichen clan without hesitation, killed so many of his brothers, and even seized the throne by killing his own father. Later, he terrified all the other nations, and single-handedly drove the Beichen Empire to the top position in the Nine Provinces.

But he only ever lusted after his concubines and beauties, never showing them any true affection.

He had never felt any affection for those princes and princesses.

The only one she both loved and hated was him, the crown prince.

She hated that he wasn't her blood relative.

Yet she loved him as the son of her most respected elder brother.

The contradictions involved are probably something even the late emperor himself couldn't explain.

Tang Xiye lowered her eyes and looked at the stack of secret reports on the table.

He suddenly remembered something from a long time ago.

He was only seven or eight years old that year when he happened to see a portrait in the late emperor's study.

The figure in the painting, dressed in a blue and white long robe, stands beneath a white plum blossom tree. His features are gentle and refined, with a faint smile playing on his lips. Like a wisp of mist from a distant mountain, he possesses an ethereal beauty that transcends worldly concerns.

He asked the late emperor who that was.

The late emperor remained silent for a long time.

It went on for so long that he thought he would never get an answer.

Then, the man said softly:

"Someone you can never compare to."

He didn't understand at the time.

Now I understand.

That man was his biological father.

He was the person the late emperor respected most, and also felt most guilty towards.

"Zhizhi, she personally bestowed upon Fengzhuo a token..."

Tang Xiye lowered her eyes, staring at the short line of text on the secret report.

My fingertips tightened slightly.

This is openly protecting him.

His usually cold and stern face remained unchanged, but a very shallow wrinkle quietly appeared between his brows.

He raised his hand and rubbed his temples with a hint of helplessness.

The movement was very light, yet it carried a hint of weariness that was hard to describe.

Suddenly, it seemed he understood.

I understand now what my mother chose back then.

She understood the unspoken, restrained, and profound love she held dear.

"Zhizhi, what should I do with you...?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

A complex mix of emotions surged within my chest.

There was bitterness, resentment, and an impulse to keep her by my side no matter what.

He wanted to make it impossible for anyone else to covet his Zhizhi.

He wanted her gaze to fall solely on him.

He wanted to hide her away, in a place only he knew, so that no one could find her or see her.

Those thoughts surged up like an undercurrent, wave after wave, crashing against the crumbling dam in his heart.

But when he opened his eyes, the turbulent undercurrent in them gradually calmed down.

How could he bear to part with it?

How could I bear to break her wings and prevent her from soaring freely between heaven and earth?

How could I bear to confine her within a small palace wall, preventing her from laughing so freely and making such a bright and cheerful noise?

He couldn't bear to part with it.

I can't bear to see her suffer even the slightest injustice, I can't bear to see her lose even a sliver of joy, I can't bear to see her furrow her brow because of anything in this world, I can't bear to see even a hint of gloom tinge her smile.

She was the girl he cherished and raised since childhood.

He watched her grow from a stumbling little dumpling into the stunningly talented woman she is today.

Every bit of her joy, every bit of her carefree spirit, every bit of her freedom was something he wanted to protect with all his might.

He fiercely suppressed the surging jealousy and the urge to keep her by his side regardless of everything.

He forcefully pushed that raging torrent into the deepest abyss of his heart.

"Weaving."

He called out softly.

The voice was very low, so low that only the speaker could hear it.

"I will always protect you."

He swallowed back the surging jealousy.

Simply because she deserves the best of everything in this world.

And he was willing to be the one standing behind her, always supporting her.

Outside the window, dusk was falling.

The last rays of sunlight disappeared into the distant mountains, casting a thin layer of bluish-gray over the world.

Inside Chengtian Hall, candles were lit one after another.

The figure in black remained seated behind the dragon table, his expression calm and serene, like a mountain standing still.

No one knows what he was thinking just now.

No one knows how many turbulent emotions he swallowed.

He simply lowered his eyes and continued reviewing the memorials on his desk.

One stroke, one stroke.

It was so stable, as if nothing had happened.

But the hand holding the vermilion pen had distinct knuckles and was slightly white.

It looked like he used a tremendous amount of strength.

It was as if it was trying its best to restrain something.