Volume One, Chapter 33: Bathing Together (Part 1)

After dinner, the Emperor and Empress headed together to the Clear Dew Pool.

The bathing areas for the Emperor and his consorts were kept separate, divided by a rockery. However, upon arrival, Shen Ran caught Xue Wu’s hand and said with a smile, “A-Wu, won’t you come and help me undress?”

Xue Wu was stunned. She had expected Shen Ran might make a move, but she had not anticipated him being so impatient. She bit her lip and said, “But the Emperor’s bathing area is separate from the consorts’, and… and hasn’t Your Majesty always…”

Though the exact reason remained unknown, it was common knowledge within the palace that Shen Ran did not allow anyone to serve him while he bathed; even Wen Xi would only approach to present his robes once he had finished.

“Rules are made by men,” Shen Ran replied. “We are already husband and wife; why shouldn’t we bathe together? Unless…” He trailed off, falling silent.

Xue Wu asked instinctively, “Unless what?”

A gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers, and a bright full moon hung high in the sky, bathing the earth in clear radiance. Suddenly, with an air of undeniable authority, Shen Ran reached out and gripped Xue Wu’s wrist. He lowered his head and said slowly, “Unless… A-Wu finds me repulsive.”

***

Weiyang Palace.

Given the importance Shen Ran and Xue Wu currently placed on Zhao Yuanzhuo, Yuanbao had pondered for a long time before deciding to deliver the prepared meal to him personally.

But the moment he stepped into the side hall of Weiyang Palace, he saw Zhao Yuanzhuo standing by the window in nothing but a thin undergarment, lost in thought, with the window left slightly ajar. Although the hall was warm as spring, the weather outside was bitter, and the nights were especially cold. Zhao Yuanzhuo’s high fever had only just broken; letting the freezing wind blow in was no laughing matter. If he were to fall ill again, Xue Wu would be worried, Shen Ran would be vexed, and he would be the one left in misery.

Yuanbao clutched his chest and let out an “Oh my!” He hurriedly ordered someone to shut the window tight and then pulled Zhao Yuanzhuo away. “Guard Zhao, what are you doing? Your fever just broke and you’re standing there catching a draft—do you have a death wish?”

His voice, sharp and thin from anxiety, made one’s ears ring.

Seeing that it was Yuanbao, Zhao Yuanzhuo was momentarily taken aback. He did not answer, but lowered his gaze and said softly, “Why has Eunuch Yuanbao come in person? Does His Majesty have some instruction?” His manner was, as expected, extremely polite.

Yuanbao froze. The youth’s face was pale from his injuries, which only served to make his lips appear more vivid and his hair darker—a heart-stopping beauty that made one reluctant to reprimand him. Though their styles differed, even Yuanbao, who had seen countless beauties in the palace over the years, had to admit that this young man, much like Shen Ran, possessed a striking appearance. When he was meek and submissive, he was very easy to like.

*Could it be,* Yuanbao wondered, *that Shen Ran’s tolerance for Zhao Yuanzhuo, aside from his feelings for Xue Wu, stems in part from the fact that the boy resembles his younger self?*

Yuanbao scrutinized him for a moment. “Hurry back to bed and lie—”

Having suffered such a brutal caning, Zhao Yuanzhuo could neither sit nor lie on his back; he could only lay on his stomach. No wonder he had been stifled enough to run to the window for a cool breeze.

When he reached the word “lie,” Yuanbao paused. He pulled Zhao Yuanzhuo back to the bed and made him lie on his stomach, then cleared his throat and continued, “Guard Zhao, the Empress is concerned about your injuries and worried you aren’t eating well. She ordered me to bring this food for you.”

As he spoke, he took the food box from a palace maid and placed it on the low table by the bed, taking out the fish soup, side dishes, and cherries. “The fish soup and side dishes were made by the Empress herself.”

Apart from the precious cherries, the dishes were common fare among the common people. Seeing this, memories of his childhood flickered in Zhao Yuanzhuo’s eyes. He pursed his lips, but remained silent. He had not been able to eat anything all day—he had neither the mood nor the appetite.

Seeing him motionless, Yuanbao urged, “Go on, try it. See how it tastes, and don’t let the Empress’s kindness go to waste.” He picked up the chopsticks and handed them to him.

Zhao Yuanzhuo saw the eunuch’s impatience and, unwilling to slight Xue Wu’s kindness, began to eat despite his lack of appetite. To his surprise, the taste was far beyond his expectations. It was as if she had guessed he would have no appetite; the dishes were all refreshing and palate-cleansing, and even the fish soup was not greasy. After a few bites, he actually began to feel hungry.

“How is it?” Yuanbao asked.

Zhao Yuanzhuo nodded. He replied honestly, “It is excellent. Please convey my thanks to the Empress for her concern.”

Yuanbao smiled with satisfaction. Because he was so plump, his eyes nearly vanished into slits. “Then eat more. The more you eat, the happier the Empress will be—I don’t need to tell you that.”

After a moment of silence, Zhao Yuanzhuo lowered his head and began to eat mouthful by mouthful. Being a warrior in his prime, he ate quickly, and the soup and side dishes were soon finished, though he barely touched the bowl of cherries.

Yuanbao watched him from the corner of his eye and roughly understood the problem. Cherries were such precious fruit that even the Empress rarely got to eat them; they certainly weren’t ordered by Xue Wu. If Shen Ran had given them to him, the boy refused to touch them. As he thought of this, the smile on Yuanbao’s face became less fawning.

Even if Zhao Yuanzhuo didn’t know it, the food had been prepared by Shen Ran himself. Such immense favor was something even he had never received, yet this brat was being so ungrateful! Having served as the Head Eunuch for years, he was used to being the one in charge. Despite how timid he acted in front of Shen Ran, his temper was usually quite fierce with everyone else.

He grew angrier the more he thought about it, and with a forced, insincere smile, he looked at Zhao Yuanzhuo. “Are the cherries not to your liking, Guard Zhao?”

Not expecting Yuanbao’s sudden change in demeanor, Zhao Yuanzhuo looked up, puzzled. It was evening, and as he was inside the hall, he had not tied up his hair; his dark locks flowed over his shoulders like a waterfall. His wrists looked fragile for their thinness, and his eyes, usually bright as cold stars, were filled with a hint of confusion.

Yuanbao had come full of indignation, ready to demand an explanation, but as he gazed into those eyes, he suddenly found himself unable to say a word.