Though called a pavilion, the structure was more like a small courtyard, with two side chambers and a large yard, and the tower itself rising beside them.
Emperor Jing had envisioned standing atop the pavilion to watch performances of mythical beasts in the courtyard below.
But after its completion, the pavilion was abandoned.
It was very tall, and climbing up step by step took a considerable amount of time.
Qi Junmu led the way, with Shen Nian following behind, one step apart—close enough to reach out and touch. Neither spoke along the way.
After what felt like a long while—perhaps the time it takes to burn one stick of incense, perhaps two—they finally reached the top.
The summit of the pavilion was just large enough for two people. Perhaps because of the height, there was a slight coolness in the air.
Qi Junmu thought to himself that this place could very well serve as a lookout tower for the capital.
From here, one could see the moat. If an enemy ever attacked, one could watch their siege progress from this vantage point.
At that thought, Qi Junmu's expression stiffened, and a shadow crossed his face.
He would never be a king who lost his realm—why think of such things?
Qi Junmu shook his head, trying to shake off the thought. As his gaze inadvertently fell on Shen Nian, he froze.
Shen Nian had a strange expression on his face—somewhat sorrowful, yet not entirely. He stood there in a daze, his eyes unfocused, as if lost in distant thought.
Qi Junmu frowned. To be honest, he did not like seeing Shen Nian like this. He cleared his throat and followed the man's gaze into the distance. "What are you looking at?"
What could be seen were distant mountains and houses no bigger than a finger—but what was there to feel so melancholy about?
Shen Nian said, "From here, one can see very far—and everything below seems so small."
The most important thing was that it mattered little whether one could see people or not. The imperial city faced south, and standing here, looking southward, one could see the road leading out of the capital.
A lone traveler on that road might be no more than a grain of sand, invisible to anyone far away. But when a long, unbroken procession appeared, no matter how tiny, it could always be seen by someone standing atop this pavilion.
Whether leaving the capital or returning to it, one could always see. Among countless people, there was always one who wanted to see someone in particular.
And the one standing atop this pavilion—who could see them? Who knew they stood here? Who knew what they felt?
Qi Junmu hummed in agreement, then smiled teasingly. "It's just too small a view—if only it were larger, we might even see Marquis Shen's home from here."
Shen Nian looked up and said softly, "Even if we cannot see it, we know that among the thousands of households, one of them is mine."
Qi Junmu sensed that there was something deeper behind Shen Nian's words, but it was not an easy thread to follow. His lips pressed together in a faint smile, and he said nothing more.
They stood in the breeze for a while, the heat slowly fading from their bodies.
Night crept in, swallowing the last light from the sky, and lanterns began to glow throughout the palace.
During all this time, Qi Junmu neither urged Shen Nian to leave nor said much of anything.
They simply stood there in silence, atop the pavilion, as if they were the only two people in all the world. In that moment, all troubles seemed to fall away, and the noise and clamor of the mortal world ceased to exist.
Shen Nian knew it was getting late—they should go down.
Before leaving, he very much wanted to ask the person beside him a question. His lips parted, but in the end, he only lowered his brow and stayed silent.
There were only the two of them up in the pavilion. His conflicted expression was hard for the Emperor to miss, so Qi Junmu asked, "What's wrong?"
Shen Nian shook his head. He had wanted to ask the Emperor one question—if one day he were betrayed by the person he loved, what would he do?
But he could not ask that. The Emperor was the Emperor, and he had his beloved Empress. No matter how much favor Shen Nian received, he was still but a subject. Even if he had been granted special privileges in this moment, some questions were still better left unasked.
Standing high above, the affairs of the mortal world seemed distant—but in truth, they had never truly been left behind.
Once they descended from the pavilion, the Emperor would still be the Emperor, and he would still be Marquis Zhenbei.
If his question planted a thorn called "taking liberties" in the Emperor's heart, that would be unwise indeed.
So Shen Nian said in a reverent tone, "It's nothing, Your Majesty. The hour is growing late—we should go down."
Qi Junmu knew this was not the truth. For a fleeting moment, a flicker of displeasure passed through him—at Shen Nian's concealment. But it was such a small, fine emotion that he soon brushed it aside.
Shen Nian was restraining his feelings from the standpoint of ruler and subject, and as a sovereign, he should be pleased to have such a minister.
Qi Junmu said calmly, "Very well, let us go down then."
Shen Nian knew the Emperor had seen through him. He smiled bitterly to himself, but could only pretend not to notice.
As they made their way down, the atmosphere between them grew somewhat heavy—different from the silence during their ascent, and this time clearly more uncomfortable.
Once they reached the bottom, Ruan Jiqing came forward to greet them. Qi Junmu had fully regained his composure, and to ease the tension, he smiled and said, "Marquis Shen, did standing up there help resolve the doubts in your heart?"
Shen Nian quickly replied, "This humble subject's doubts have been resolved. I am most grateful to Your Majesty."
Qi Junmu's smile did not waver. He said, "You are a pillar of my court. There is much I rely on you for. To know that you are at ease puts my mind at rest as well."
Shen Nian immediately gave a solemn and earnest declaration of his loyalty.
Ruan Jiqing watched from the side, feeling both envious and rueful.
That evening, Qi Junmu kept Shen Nian at Quanhua Hall for the evening meal—Shen Nian had barely eaten all day.
Yet this meal was hard to swallow. The Emperor was as amiable as ever, and every dish Shen Nian liked was present. But he felt utterly ill at ease. At first he could not figure out why—until the Emperor set down his chopsticks and dabbed his mouth with a fine cloth. Then it suddenly dawned on him.
The reason he could not eat was the Emperor himself.
Qi Junmu was acting exactly as he always did—his gestures, his movements, even his expression were all the same. But the man beneath seemed to be wearing a mask, and it felt terribly false.
Ever since Shen Nian had returned to the capital, Qi Junmu had always been relatively genuine with him—whether using him or scheming, he had done so openly and candidly. Now that he had changed his approach, Shen Nian, who had grown used to that candor, found himself at a loss.
Realizing this, Shen Nian looked at the Emperor and suddenly felt that the man before him was like a child sulking alone, trying not to let anyone see it. The urge to laugh rose up in him.
And he did just that—he laughed out loud.
Qi Junmu stared at Shen Nian, who had suddenly burst out laughing at him. He was taken aback, blinked, and then slowly, he too began to laugh.
In that shared laughter, ruler and subject were as they had always been.
That night, Shen Nian did not stay the night at Quanhua Hall. Sleeping during the day had been a special imperial privilege; to stay the night as well would have been inappropriate.
Qi Junmu had not intended to keep him either. People might say Shen Nian enjoyed overwhelming favor—and indeed, that had truly happened—but if such talk ended up harming Shen Nian's reputation, that would defeat his original purpose.
After Shen Nian had returned to the Imperial Guard quarters, Qi Junmu summoned Ruan Jiqing and said, "Have someone look into what has happened in the Shen family."
For the dignified Marquis Zhenbei to be so unsettled, the matter could not be trivial. Some things Shen Nian might not be in a position to resolve himself—so the Emperor ought to at least find out what was going on.
Ruan Jiqing felt some sympathy for Shen Nian, along with a sense of finality, as if this day had inevitably come.
Just as he was about to take his leave and carry out the order, he heard Qi Junmu add, "This matter must be kept from Shen Nian. If he catches even a whisper of it, I will hold you accountable."
The chief eunuch, who had just been pitying someone else, now found all his sympathy redirected to himself.
A matter that had nothing to do with him, yet he would be the one punished if anything went wrong—no one deserved pity more than he did.
No comments:
Post a Comment