Time: Deep winter, Jinghe Year One Location: Warm chamber, Western Garden Palace
Outside, snow fell in a soft, steady hush. Inside, the brazier burned bright, occasionally crackling with a quiet pop. The Retired Emperor, Gu Yan, wore a simple dark robe and reclined on a couch layered with thick furs, idly turning a smooth jade pendant in his hand. Emperor Gu Lian sat beside him in a pearwood armchair, personally pouring a cup of freshly brewed tea for his father.
No attendants. No memorials. Just the two of them.
"This Western Garden is far quieter than the palace," Gu Yan sipped his tea, eyes sweeping over his son's features—still weary, but steadier and more resolute than ever. "Too quiet, really. Not even someone to argue with."
Gu Lian smiled faintly. "If Father finds it dull, I'll have a few old princes come play chess with you tomorrow."
"Spare me. Those old men have terrible chess manners." Gu Yan waved a hand and placed the jade pendant on the low table with a crisp clink. After a pause, he asked, "How's the snow disaster in the northern provinces being handled?"
"Relief funds and grain have all arrived. Ai Miao is overseeing it personally—no one dares skim. The displaced have been resettled. We've opened government granaries and mobilized local gentry to set up soup kitchens." Gu Lian's reply was clear and methodical.
Gu Yan nodded, saying nothing more. He stared into the flickering brazier. For a while, the only sounds were falling snow and burning coals.
Then, slowly, he spoke—his voice carrying a trace of emotion too subtle to name: "You've done… better than I expected."
Gu Lian's hand paused mid-pour.
Gu Yan didn't look at him. Still watching the fire, he murmured as if to himself: "When I was your age, I too had grand ambitions. Thought nothing in the world was too difficult. But after sitting on that throne long enough, you learn what it means to walk on thin ice. To be utterly alone. Too many ties. Too many concerns. Sometimes… you have to make choices that go against your heart."
They both knew what he meant— The years of separation and silent trials. The tacit approval, even encouragement, of Ai Miao's exile to Beijing.
Gu Lian set down the teapot. His voice was calm: "I understand."
"No. Not fully." Gu Yan finally turned, eyes sharp—still carrying the weight of a man who once ruled the realm. "You'll only truly understand once you sit on that throne. Once you begin weighing, choosing. I was emperor. But I was also your father. I had to protect not just your feelings, but the stability of the empire. To prevent you from letting love cloud judgment. To keep you from future regret. To shield you… from becoming a target."
His tone held fatigue, but also release. "Looking at things now… I underestimated you. And that boy, Ai Miao. You've both done well."
That simple "done well" landed like a stone in a still lake, sending ripples through Gu Lian's heart. He had never imagined hearing such direct affirmation from his always-demanding father—especially about him and Ai Miao.
After a moment, he said softly: "Thank you, Father."
Gu Yan waved a hand, reclining again with casual ease, even a touch of teasing: "All right, enough of that face. I'm retired now—just here to enjoy my tea and grandchildren… Oh, speaking of which," He glanced at his son, "When do you and Ai Miao plan to give me one? I know you two are… well. But in the royal clan, there should be an heir. Adopt one if you must. Set the name early. It'll settle hearts."
The sudden shift in topic—like any old father nudging for marriage and children—made Gu Lian laugh. The earlier solemnity dissolved in an instant.
"Father, this matter… Ai Miao and I will handle it."
"Handle it?" Gu Yan raised a brow. "Looks to me like that boy has you wrapped around his finger. Fine, fine. You young people do as you please." He picked up the jade pendant again, rubbing it absently. "The snow's heavy. Roads are slick. Head back to the palace soon. And don't stay up too late with those memorials. The empire never runs out of work."
Gu Lian rose and bowed respectfully. "Your son takes his leave. Please take care of your health."
He turned toward the door. Just as his hand touched the curtain, his father's voice called out—low and steady:
"Lian'er."
Gu Lian turned back.
Gu Yan looked at him, gaze deep. And finally spoke the simplest, yet heaviest of words:
"This empire… is yours now. Take good care of it."
Gu Lian looked at his father's face—aged under candlelight, but gentle in expression. The last remnants of distance between them, born of past choices, seemed to melt away in the warmth of fire and falling snow.
He nodded solemnly.
"I will not fail you."
He lifted the curtain and stepped into the wind and snow. But his heart felt soft and clear.
He knew— Behind him, that warm chamber's light Would always be there. A silent, steady gaze from his father, Watching over his path as emperor.
When Gu Lian returned to the Palace of Heavenly Purity, it was already the third quarter of the Hai hour. The snow had not stopped. A thin layer had settled on his shoulders, and he stepped into the hall carrying the chill of the night.
Ai Miao was seated beneath the lamplight, reviewing confidential reports from across the empire. He looked up at the sound of the door, set down his brush, and rose. His gaze swept over the snow on Gu Lian's shoulders, brows knitting slightly. "Why didn't you let the attendants bring an umbrella?"
"It was only a few steps." Gu Lian let him remove the snow-dusted cloak. The warmth of the chamber wrapped around him, slowly dispelling the cold. The subtle emotions stirred during his conversation with the Retired Emperor had yet to fully fade.
Ai Miao, ever perceptive, sensed the shift in his mood. After handing the cloak to a waiting attendant, he poured a cup of hot tea and offered it with both hands. "Is His Majesty the Retired Emperor well?"
Gu Lian accepted the cup, fingers brushing the warm porcelain. He looked up at Ai Miao—his features calm beneath the lamplight, his presence as crisp and steady as bamboo in snow. And yet, it was this very presence that always stilled the unrest in his heart.
He spoke suddenly, a quiet, unprompted murmur: "Father said… we're doing well."
Ai Miao's hand paused mid-pour. He understood the weight behind those words— A long-delayed recognition from the one who had once been their greatest obstacle.
He set the teapot down and sat beside Gu Lian. His dark eyes, deepened by candlelight, held steady. "Your Majesty has always done well."
"No," Gu Lian shook his head, reaching out to take Ai Miao's cool fingers in his own. His gaze burned. "Father said we are doing well." His grip tightened, voice low and resolute. "He said he underestimated you. And me. He said… we're doing well."
The last three words were spoken with deliberate weight— As if he meant to carve that rare paternal affirmation into the marrow of their lives.
Ai Miao froze. He had spent a lifetime calculating hearts, bearing suspicion and silence. But never had he imagined such words from the man who once exiled him. A rush of warmth surged through him, tightening his throat. For a moment, he didn't know how to respond.
Gu Lian watched his rare moment of speechlessness and chuckled softly. He pulled him into his arms, resting his chin atop Ai Miao's head. His voice was low, content: "Ai Miao, even Father has acknowledged us now. There's no one left in this world who can tear us apart."
Ai Miao leaned into his chest, listening to the steady, powerful heartbeat. At last, he relaxed. He closed his eyes and murmured, "Mm."
They held each other in silence for a while. Then Gu Lian chuckled again, as if remembering something. "Father also asked when we plan to give him a grandchild."
Ai Miao stiffened slightly, then looked up with a trace of helplessness. "And what did Your Majesty say?"
"I said… we'll see." Gu Lian raised an eyebrow, twirling a strand of Ai Miao's dark hair between his fingers. "But what does Lord Wen'an think? How should we see to it?"
Ai Miao caught the teasing glint in his eyes and couldn't help but laugh. He leaned back slightly and answered with composure: "There are several bright children among the royal kin. I've already instructed someone to observe them. In time, I'll present a list for Your Majesty's consideration."
Seeing him so serious, Gu Lian's heart softened again. He pulled him close once more and sighed. "You… always so thorough." Then, more quietly: "But what I truly want to know is—what do you want? Ai Miao, do you want a child? Someone who might carry on our blood, our will?"
It was a deeply personal question— And a solemn one.
Ai Miao was silent for a long time. Then he said softly, "My only wish is to remain by Your Majesty's side. As for heirs… if we can choose someone worthy to inherit the realm and steady the clan, it would be a good thing. But if Your Majesty prefers to wait, I will wait forever."
As always, he placed Gu Lian's will above his own.
Gu Lian's heart stirred. He held him tighter. "Then we'll wait. Until the empire is steadier. Until we… are ready."
Outside, the snow still fell. Inside, warmth lingered. The candlelight cast their entwined shadows on the wall—intimate, inseparable.
"Your Majesty," Ai Miao said softly, "I received word today—General A Lie has quelled another band of raiders in the north."
"Mm. I saw the report. The Marquis of the North is more composed now that his household is at peace." Gu Lian smiled. "And Qingying—she's six months along now, isn't she? A Lie looks more nervous than he did facing ten thousand troops."
Ai Miao smiled too. "Yes. The general's residence has a physician on duty every day. They say he even moved his study to the room outside her bedchamber."
And so they sat, shoulder to shoulder, Talking of border campaigns and court gossip— Like any ordinary couple.
The weight of state, the shadows of the past— All melted into quiet murmurs and the warmth of joined hands.
When the water clock chimed, Gu Lian murmured, "It's late. Let's rest."
Ai Miao rose, about to call for attendants— But Gu Lian stopped him.
"Not tonight."
And the young emperor— Went to fetch warm water himself. He wrung the cloth, his movements a little clumsy, but utterly earnest. When Ai Miao reached to take it, Gu Lian gently avoided him.
"Let me."
His gaze was soft, and brooked no refusal.
The candlelight dimmed. The gauze canopy fell. They lay side by side on the dragon bed, Listening to the snow outside slowly come to rest.
"Ai Miao."
"I'm here."
"This vast empire… With you beside me— It's truly good."
"…And for me as well."
The night deepened.
And the golden age that belonged to them—
Had only just begun.