Chapter 21
The mashed potatoes Jin Tang had requested were finally brought in.
From the very bottom of the insulated food box, Wang Zhong carefully lifted out a small white porcelain bowl that had been kept warm.
When he removed the lid, it revealed exactly the kind of mashed potatoes Jin Tang had described.
The potatoes had been mashed until perfectly smooth, mixed with finely diced carrots, peas, and corn kernels, along with tender bits of chopped egg white and crumbled egg yolk. A layer of sauce—apparently made from chicken broth blended with some kind of seasoning—had been poured over the top.
Steam rose from the bowl, carrying a simple yet enticing aroma.
“Your Majesty, please have a taste and see whether it suits your liking.”
Wang Zhong placed the bowl and a small silver spoon on the low table before Jin Tang.
Jin Tang picked up the spoon, scooped up a small bite, and put it into his mouth.
The mashed potatoes were warm, soft, and melted instantly on his tongue.
The subtle sweetness of the vegetables blended with the savory richness of the sauce.
The flavor was far more refined and mellow than the improvised version he had once made in his tiny rented apartment.
Yet somehow, the same comforting familiarity remained.
Jin Tang ate slowly, one spoonful after another.
Although he did not eat very quickly, and stopped after finishing only about half the bowl because his stomach already felt full, it was worlds apart from the previous occasions when he could barely force down two mouthfuls of thin porridge after waking.
Watching from the side, Wang Zhong was so delighted that even his fingers trembled slightly.
“Good… good… It’s wonderful that Your Majesty can eat a little more. These mashed potatoes are excellent…”
After the mashed potatoes, the palace attendants brought seasonal fruit.
Freshly washed cherries and waxberries had been carefully prepared and arranged upon a crackle-glazed porcelain plate.
Their brilliant red color was especially pleasing to the eye.
Jin Tang picked up a cherry and slowly ate it.
Sweet juice spread through his mouth, washing away some of the lingering bitterness left by the medicine.
Then he ate a waxberry.
Its sweet-and-sour flavor stimulated his appetite pleasantly.
Even so, that small amount of food seemed to have exhausted the little strength he had managed to recover.
His body weakened again, and he leaned back against the cushions, breathing slightly harder.
Throughout the entire process—from the moment he tried to sit up, through washing, eating, and finishing the fruit—Xiao Li had quietly returned after dealing with part of the urgent affairs of state.
He remained standing some distance away, silently watching without interrupting.
Only after Jin Tang’s fatigue became obvious did he walk over quickly and naturally take the basin of water and towel from one of the attendants.
Jin Tang looked at him blankly.
By then, Xiao Li had already wrung out the warm cloth and gently wiped away the traces of fruit juice and sauce lingering at the corner of Jin Tang’s lips.
The warmth of the cloth seeped pleasantly into his skin.
The pressure was neither too light nor too firm.
It was perfect.
When he finished, Xiao Li quietly slid the fruit plate a little closer so Jin Tang could reach it more easily.
The Regent of Great Zhao…
The man who commanded the northern frontier and controlled the entire court…
Was now performing the duties of a palace attendant.
And he did so as naturally as breathing, paying attention to every tiny detail.
For a fleeting moment, Jin Tang experienced the strange illusion that he was not Xiao Li’s imperial nephew in name.
Instead…
He felt like a younger family member whom Xiao Li cherished and protected with utmost care.
Perhaps…
A son.
The thought startled even Jin Tang himself.
His ears grew slightly warm.
Yet as he looked at Xiao Li’s lowered eyes, so focused upon him, the usually stern features unexpectedly softened.
Something inside Jin Tang’s heart softened as well.
He could not help thinking that, if Xiao Li ever had children of his own, he would undoubtedly raise them with the same meticulous care, looking after them in every possible way.
After eating, drowsiness came rushing over him like a rising tide.
His eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
Summoning the last traces of his awareness, Jin Tang said softly,
“Royal Uncle… please don’t announce my awakening just yet.”
“And in two days, it will be Qingming.”
“I… probably won’t be able to visit the Imperial Ancestral Temple myself.”
“I’ll have to trouble Royal Uncle to go in my place.”
“Especially… tell Father Emperor… that I am doing well.”
“Tell him not to worry about me.”
“He should rest peacefully… and not let my affairs disturb his peace beneath the earth.”
He spoke slowly.
Every single word seemed to consume a portion of his remaining strength.
The Late Emperor…
The man he had never met, yet whose identity and responsibilities he had inherited.
The sworn elder brother to whom Xiao Li had pledged absolute loyalty.
Though he occupied the Late Emperor’s son’s body, he had lived in such misery.
Deep inside, Jin Tang always carried an indescribable sense of guilt.
Watching him force himself to remain awake, Xiao Li frowned slightly.
He said nothing more.
He merely answered quietly,
“This subject understands.”
Then he stepped forward.
One arm slid beneath Jin Tang’s knees, the other behind his back.
With only a slight exertion of strength, he lifted him effortlessly into a bridal carry.
Jin Tang gave a small cry of surprise.
His hand instinctively grasped the front of Xiao Li’s robe.
The fabric was made of the finest cloud brocade.
It felt cool beneath his fingertips.
Yet the warmth beneath the cloth and the solid strength of Xiao Li’s body radiated a reassuring sense of security.
Holding him steadily, Xiao Li walked with measured steps toward the dragon bed.
He carefully laid Jin Tang back upon the mattress, pulled the embroidered quilt over him, and tucked every corner neatly around him.
His movements flowed naturally, as though he had practiced them countless times.
“Your Majesty should rest well.”
“I am here for everything else.”
Even Xiao Li’s voice carried an overwhelming sense of reliability.
Jin Tang had always trusted Xiao Li’s ability to handle affairs.
He nodded faintly.
Weariness crashed over him like an avalanche.
Almost the instant his head touched the pillow, his consciousness slipped back into darkness, and he quietly fell asleep once more.
Only after Jin Tang’s breathing became long and steady did Xiao Li straighten up.
He quietly gave Wang Zhong several more instructions, mostly reminding him to keep careful watch over the emperor and administer the medicine on schedule.
Wang Zhong acknowledged every instruction.
Seeing the exhaustion that Xiao Li could no longer conceal between his brows, he could not help persuading him.
“Your Highness, now that His Majesty has awakened and his pulse has stabilized considerably, why don’t you return and rest for a while?”
“Everything has already been prepared at Qiwu Palace.”
“You’ve barely closed your eyes these past several days.”
“Even an iron body cannot endure this forever.”
Xiao Li merely shook his head.
His gaze remained fixed upon the figure beneath the quilt.
“It’s fine.”
“I’ll remain here.”
“Although His Majesty has awakened, his vitality has not recovered.”
“No one knows when he will truly be able to stand and walk again.”
“My heart cannot rest.”
“Even if I returned, I wouldn’t be able to sleep.”
Wang Zhong knew Xiao Li’s temperament well.
Once the Regent made up his mind, not even nine oxen could drag him away.
With a helpless sigh, he stopped trying to persuade him.
Instead, he directed the young eunuchs to place a small couch covered with thick bedding a respectful distance from the dragon bed.
That way, if Xiao Li became completely exhausted, he could at least rest there for a while.
Xiao Li glanced at the couch.
He said nothing.
His silence was acceptance.
He remained beside Jin Tang’s bed for another moment, making certain that he was sleeping peacefully.
Only then did he turn to Wang Zhong.
“I’ll return to Qiwu Palace to wash.”
“I’ll be back shortly.”
Qiwu Palace was not far from the emperor’s residence.
After returning, Xiao Li dismissed all the attendants.
He washed himself personally, using cold water.
Days of exhaustion and anxiety seemed to be washed away little by little beneath the icy stream.
The weather had gradually grown warmer.
There was no need to receive visitors at night.
So Xiao Li simply changed into a thin set of plain inner robes.
He did not even bother fastening his belt properly, merely gathering the front of his robes loosely before stepping outside.
His damp black hair hung freely over his shoulders.
Several loose strands rested across his forehead, still dripping with water.
Beneath the slightly open collar, the defined lines of his collarbones and the powerful contours of his chest muscles could be seen faintly.
They were the marks of years spent practicing martial arts and fighting on countless battlefields.
Droplets of water traced the grooves of his muscles before disappearing beneath the fabric.
His body was tall, lean, and powerful.
His muscles were balanced rather than overly bulky, containing the explosive strength of a hunting leopard.
Scattered across that vigorous body were several scars, some deep and others shallow, faded by time but still clearly visible.
Each one recorded the years of wind, sand, swords, and blood upon the northern frontier.
The most striking was an old scar that slashed diagonally from his left shoulder blade to beneath his ribs.
Even after all these years, it still looked fearsome.
Xiao Li wasted no time.
He did not even finish drying his hair before hurrying back to Jin Tang’s bedchamber.
Inside, most of the candles had been dimmed.
Only a few remained burning, filling the room with a warm, subdued glow.
Xiao Li lightened his footsteps and lay down upon the small couch outside the dragon bed.
He did not fall asleep immediately.
Instead, lying on his side, he looked quietly across the dim room toward the blurred silhouette resting upon the dragon bed.
The chamber was utterly peaceful.
Only Jin Tang’s light, rhythmic breathing and the slow dripping of the water clock blended together into a soothing background.
A faint medicinal fragrance lingered in the air.
So too did the subtle scent of fragility that illness seemed to leave upon Jin Tang.
Xiao Li closed his eyes.
What lingered in his nose was the clean scent of soapberries from his recent bath, mingled with the faint fragrance drifting from the dragon bed.
The nerves that had been stretched taut for days finally began, little by little, to relax.
No one knew how much time passed.
From within the inner chamber came an extremely soft murmur in sleep.
The words were indistinct, as though Jin Tang were dreaming of something.
Xiao Li’s eyes snapped open almost instantly.
Even in the darkness, they were clear and sharp.
Without making a sound, he sat up and looked toward the bed.
When nothing further happened and Jin Tang’s breathing remained steady, he finally released a quiet sigh of relief.
He lay back down again.
But sleep had already abandoned him.
He simply maintained that same watchful posture in the dim light, silently waiting for dawn—
Or perhaps…
Waiting for the person upon the dragon bed to awaken once more.
The night was deep.
The towering palace walls wrapped this small bedchamber in tranquil silence.
Within it, the young emperor lay pale upon his sickbed.
Meanwhile, the Regent who held overwhelming power throughout the empire willingly confined himself to the small couch outside, keeping watch over him through the entire night.
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