Time: Spring, second year of Jinghe
Setting: Imperial Court and Palace
The political landscape had stabilized. Scholar Lin—who had once questioned Ai Miao and earned a silent mark in Gu Lian's memory— had now become Ai Miao's most devoted admirer, thoroughly convinced by his achievements and character.
During morning court, Ai Miao was presenting a new hydraulic project. His logic was precise, his data thorough.
Scholar Lin stood among the ranks, listening with rapt attention, eyes shining with admiration. He looked ready to pull out a notebook and take notes. When Ai Miao finished speaking, Lin couldn't help but step forward first, exclaiming:
"Lord Wen'an's proposal is visionary and meticulous—truly a plan that benefits the nation and its people! I second it! I would gladly risk life and limb to help implement it!"
His fervent enthusiasm was a far cry from the confrontational stance he once held in court.
Seated high on the dragon throne, Gu Lian's expression remained calm, but his hand holding the vermilion brush paused. He glanced at Scholar Lin—briefly, coolly—and said nothing.
—
After court, in the imperial study.
Gu Lian was reviewing memorials when he spoke, seemingly offhand: "That Scholar Lin… has been rather active lately."
Ai Miao was organizing documents for him. He looked up, saw Gu Lian's composed façade, and understood immediately. Setting the papers aside, he walked over, picked up the inkstone, and began grinding ink slowly.
"Scholar Lin is sincere," he said calmly. "He has insight in hydraulic matters. He's a useful talent."
"Oh? Sincere?" Gu Lian set down his brush, leaned back, and looked at Ai Miao with a deep gaze. "I saw the way he looked at you—like he's ready to worship at your feet and follow you around for daily lessons."
There was no anger in his tone, but it carried the unmistakable flavor of being… overlooked.
Ai Miao paused, then leaned forward, placing both hands on the arms of the dragon chair, effectively caging Gu Lian in. His eyes held a teasing glint.
"Your Majesty," he said, voice low and breathy, "Are you worried… that I'll be swayed by this young man's enthusiasm?"
Gu Lian was momentarily caught off guard by the sudden closeness and blunt question. Then he laughed, pulling Ai Miao into his lap.
"He's just noisy." His fingers traced the embroidery on Ai Miao's robe, his tone lazy and possessive. "Your time should be spent more on me."
—
A few days later, Scholar Lin somehow learned that Lord Wen'an was sensitive to cold. He had a hand warmer sent from his hometown—said to be a family heirloom— and tried to present it to Ai Miao with great care.
Gu Lian happened to be present.
Seeing the emperor, Lin trembled, nearly dropping the hand warmer.
Gu Lian raised a brow, glanced at the finely crafted item, then at the nervous, blushing scholar, and finally at Ai Miao, who looked helpless beside him.
The scene was… amusing.
Rather than angry, Gu Lian spoke slowly: "Scholar Lin, how thoughtful."
He accepted the hand warmer, examined it briefly. "But everything Lord Wen'an uses is custom-made by the Inner Palace Bureau. No need for outside officials to trouble themselves."
His tone was mild, but carried the unmistakable authority of the throne.
"Your loyalty and talent," he added, "are best applied to state affairs."
Scholar Lin looked both relieved and disappointed, bowed repeatedly, and withdrew.
—
That night, in the bedchamber.
Gu Lian held Ai Miao in his arms, playing with a strand of his long hair. Thinking of the day's events, he chuckled.
"That earnest boy… is even more awkward than you were back then."
Ai Miao lay against him, eyes closed, lips curving slightly. "Your Majesty isn't jealous anymore?"
"Jealous?" Gu Lian lowered his head, kissed the crown of Ai Miao's head, his voice full of satisfaction and certainty.
"What's there to be jealous of? Even if he offered his whole heart, your eyes and soul belong only to me."
He paused, then added with a smirk: "Besides, watching him try to please you while terrified I might notice— isn't that… rather entertaining?"
Ai Miao opened his eyes, saw the gleam in Gu Lian's expression—like a large feline toying with its prey— and shook his head helplessly.
He reached up and kissed Gu Lian, a quiet, firm declaration:
No matter how many admirers or followers there were, his body and heart had long been spoken for.