"Guo Shangzhong." The Emperor's voice echoed in the empty study. He set down his brush.
"Your servant is here." Guo Shangzhong hurried in, bowing.
"What time is it?"
"Just past the hour of the Monkey, Your Majesty." Guo Shangzhong stole a glance at the desk. A fresh portrait lay drying on the silk. Empress Murong, staring back at him with eyes that seemed to pierce his soul.
He looked away. Even when she was alive, he had always felt she could see right through him.
"Past the hour of the Monkey…" The Emperor stood and stretched. "Summon the dancers from the Music Bureau."
Every night after dusk, he would call for the dancers who knew The Return. He would watch until late in the night, until he fell asleep on the Dragon Throne, murmuring her name in his dreams.
"I miss her more these days," the Emperor said, walking ahead.
Guo Shangzhong followed silently.
"I used to think of her occasionally, but never like this. I must be getting old."
"Your Majesty is in the prime of life. How can you say you are old?" Guo Shangzhong smiled.
The Emperor shook his head, the lines on his face deepening. "Time forgives no one. I have a grandson now. If Murong were here, she would be so happy to see Qi'er."
"The Empress always loved children."
"Yes. When Liuyun was born, she adored him. She would stay up all night just watching him sleep. And then, when Liulan was born…" His voice trailed off, his steps slowing.
Guo Shangzhong stopped behind him, bowing. His eyes flickered toward the long corridor ahead, a strange look passing through them.
"When Liulan was born, I can barely remember her face," the Emperor whispered. "She wasn't happy anymore. She was always worried. Murong… did you already know how it would end?"
He started walking again.
"I know. You were so clever. You knew everything. On our wedding night, you told me you knew it was just a transaction of power, that I shouldn't take it to heart." His voice dropped. "But Murong, you took it to heart, didn't you? You cruel woman. Leaving me with this guilt. If I had known I would miss you this much, I never would have treated you so coldly."
A sob escaped his lips.
Guo Shangzhong froze. In thirty years of service, he had never seen the Emperor shed a tear. He had thought the man who climbed over his brothers' bones to reach the throne was incapable of weeping.
The Emperor looked up at the full moon. She liked the full moon. She said it made the world feel complete. A woman's wish… a good husband, a son to rely on.
"Murong, were you telling me you didn't regret marrying me?" His body trembled. "Even when I was cold, even with three thousand women in the harem, you still thought our marriage was complete?"
"Your Majesty." Guo Shangzhong reached out to steady him.
The Emperor slapped his hand away. He stumbled down the corridor, his lonely shadow stretching long on the stone, disappearing into the darkness.
Guo Shangzhong watched him go, his hands hidden in his sleeves, calculating. It had been a month since Xue Liulan was named Crown Prince. The Emperor had handed over most duties, content to lose himself in memories. But why was he so erratic today?
The Emperor sat on his throne, eyes glazed, the wine before him untouched. He watched the dancers below with disinterest. He didn't need to see them clearly. The dance was burned into his memory.
"Your Majesty." A soft voice. A warm body pressed against his side. "Did this servant not dance well?"
"Very well." His hand rested on her slender waist. His gaze drifted to her face.
Exquisite makeup. Smiling lips. For a moment, he saw the Empress Murong, smiling at him from across the years.
But then, he shoved her away.
"Get out! All of you!" He swept the wine cup from the table.
The woman looked at Guo Shangzhong in shock. The eunuch frowned and signaled for everyone to leave.
"It's not her. No matter what, it's never her." The Emperor buried his face in his hands, sobbing on the table. "They look like her, they dance like her, but they are not Murong. They are not Murong!"
Guo Shangzhong watched the Emperor throw a tantrum like a child. Now you feel guilty? Is this grief supposed to make up for your blindness when she was suffering?
"Your Majesty." He helped the Emperor sit up. "The dead cannot return. You must take care of your health."
"Guo Shangzhong, do you think she hates me?" The Emperor looked at him, lost.
"This…" Guo Shangzhong hesitated. "No. Empress Murong was gentle and virtuous. She always thought of Your Majesty. How could she hate you?"
"You're lying." The Emperor slumped back. "She hates me. Murong hates me. Why else would she take everything with her when she died? Why did she burn even the pouch she made for me?"
"Perhaps she didn't want Your Majesty to see the objects and be sad."
"Yes. To see the object and think of the person. But I would rather have the memories! And now? Now I don't even have the right to remember her. I own the world, but in the end, what do I have?" Tears streamed down his weathered face, vanishing into the gold of the throne.
Guo Shangzhong bowed his head, letting him vent.
Silence. Then the Emperor wiped his face. "Call them back. I want to see the dance."
"Yes." Guo Shangzhong was surprised. He hadn't expected this.
"She left me nothing, but I can still remember." A sentence spoken with spite, and infinite longing.
The dancers returned. The music started.
The Emperor watched coldly. Finally, he raised a hand and pointed to the woman in the center. "You. Come here."
Guo Shangzhong looked up. It was the woman the Emperor had pushed away. Of all of them, she looked the most like the Empress.
She walked up the steps and knelt, her hand resting on his knee. "Your Majesty."
His hand touched her hair, then stopped. He stared at her face, unable to look away. The first time he saw her, he had almost thought Murong had returned. Now, the feeling was overwhelming. Reality blurred.
In his mind, only that face remained. Smiling. Bewitching.
Guo Shangzhong watched, giving the woman a slight nod.
"Your Majesty, let this servant serve you tonight. Shall I?" Her voice was a siren's song.
But the Emperor didn't hear. He just stared.
The woman looked up at Guo Shangzhong, confused.
"Your Majesty?" Guo Shangzhong stepped forward.
No response. The man on the throne slumped sideways, his eyes closing slowly.
The woman gasped and jumped back. Guo Shangzhong rushed forward, his fingers pressing against the Emperor's wrist.
No pulse.
"This…" Guo Shangzhong stared, his face draining of color.
"Master, is he… dead?" the woman whispered.
Guo Shangzhong glared at her. He let go of the wrist and sighed.
"Speak of this to no one. Do you understand?" he hissed.
"Yes." She trembled. If he decided to silence witnesses, no one here would survive.
Guo Shangzhong looked down at the confused dancers below. He smiled coldly. Perhaps this is heaven's will. His plan to place her by the Emperor's side had failed, but this… this saved him a lot of trouble.
In the Crown Prince's residence, Xue Liulan and Li Yan were discussing the disposal of Guo Shangzhong's enemies. Murong Jin sat on a couch nearby, reading.
Suddenly, Xue Liulan clutched his chest, gasping for air. A sharp pain stabbed through his heart.
"What's wrong?" Murong Jin rushed to his side. Li Yan stood up, concerned.
Xue Liulan waved a hand, forcing the pain down. But a new feeling, a deep unease, spread through him.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The sound of the watchman's clapper. Three strikes. From the second gate.
The three of them froze. Li Yan ran to open the door. Little Dingzi stumbled in.
"My lord! My lord! The palace!"
"What happened to my father?" Xue Liulan strode forward, hauling the eunuch to his feet.
"A messenger from the palace. The Emperor… the Emperor has been assassinated."