Facing the ancestral tablet, Song Yu devoutly offered three sticks of incense to his forebears.
"Kowtow separately for your mother."
Emperor Yuanyou suddenly spoke. Song Yu was taken aback for a moment, but then, without asking any questions, knelt on the prayer cushion and kowtowed three times with solid thuds.
The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew quiet.
In truth, when the father and son were alone together, Emperor Yuanyou rarely mentioned his deceased first wife, to the point that Song Yu had previously been completely unaware of the resemblance between Song Shihuan and the late empress.
Even the portrait of the late empress kept in the Zichen Hall, Song Yu had only ever glanced at a few times.
More often, it was Emperor Yuanyou reminiscing alone.
But today, on this day of national celebration, Emperor Yuanyou was suddenly overcome with an irrepressible urge to confide.
"Your mother was an exceptionally good person."
Emperor Yuanyou began slowly, his gaze fixed on the tablet full of sorrow. His once vibrant wife was now just a cold, wooden tablet.
"We met in humble circumstances. On the day she married me, I swore I would give her a good life."
Song Yu remained kneeling, not interrupting the Emperor's words.
"But not long after our marriage, I began fighting wars all over, placing her in danger. We were apart more than together. Yu'er, your mother never blamed me. Every time I returned home, there was always a warm meal waiting. Your mother always worried about me suffering hardships away from home. It has been so long since I last tasted your mother's cooking."
"Whenever I think of these things, I feel I failed your mother."
Emperor Yuanyou's gaze slowly shifted from the tablet to Song Yu. "Yu'er, I was overjoyed on the day you were born. I even secretly kowtowed to the heavens, thanking them for granting me a child born of your mother."
"I have also wondered countless times what would have happened if, on that day, your mother hadn't taken the arrow for me, and I had died instead." Emperor Yuanyou gave a wry smile. "If that had truly been the case, your mother, wise and perceptive, would surely have raised you to be just as fine a man as you are now."
"Unlike me, who let you suffer grievances for so many years."
"Father, taking that arrow for you was Mother's own willing choice." With this one sentence from Song Yu, tears began to stream down Emperor Yuanyou's face.
Emperor Yuanyou was suddenly overwhelmed with grief. Addressing the tablet, he said:
"Fen'er, if your spirit watches from above, look well upon our son. He is accomplished and kind-hearted, and he has a daughter who looks very much like you."
"If only you were still here... that would be wonderful..."
Emperor Yuanyou staggered away. Song Yu remained kneeling on the cushion for a long time.
All these years, the imperial harem had only a handful of consorts. Once, a court official presented the Emperor with a beauty who resembled his mother, but the Emperor instead stripped that official of his post.
As for his own formerly dissolute and unrestrained behavior, while his father seemed harsh on the surface, readily ordering beatings with the bamboo, in reality, he had also been indulgent.
Song Yu smiled, showing his white teeth to the tablet.
"Mother, the man you married is rather decent, though not as good as your son."
Then his expression dimmed somewhat. "If only you were still alive. Then you could dote on me, just as Lady Chang dotes on Ahuan."
"Forget this lifetime. In the next life, whether as royalty or commoners, I will still be your son."
...
That evening, the portrait of the late empress from the Zichen Hall was carefully delivered to the Eastern Palace by Wu Qi.
"Your Highness, His Majesty says this portrait rightfully belongs to you."
Wu Qi's voice was somewhat hesitant as he spoke, for when the Emperor handed over the painting, his expression was one of utter agony, as if having flesh cut away.
It was entirely possible he would want it back in a few days.
Seeing this, Song Yu nodded. Only after Wu Qi had left did he, with trembling hands, unroll the portrait.
It was the first time Song Yu had examined the late empress's face so carefully.
He was so absorbed that he didn't notice Song Shihuan approaching his side.
"Is this Grandmother Empress? Indeed, I resemble Grandmother Empress the most." Song Shihuan gazed at the portrait with fascination, unable to resist reaching out to touch the face in the painting.
A strange feeling welled up in Song Shihuan's heart.
She shared a similar face with the person in the portrait, and her father was the bond connecting them.
"Yes, this is Ahuan's Grandmother Empress."
Song Yu looked at Song Shihuan for a moment, then suddenly spoke again. "We must hide this portrait well, so your imperial grandfather doesn't ask for it back."
No one knows a father better than his son. He understood the old man's temperament perfectly.
Sure enough, just two days later, Emperor Yuanyou wanted the portrait back.
"Once a gift is given, it shouldn't be taken back."
In the Zichen Hall, father and son stared each other down.
"I am the Son of Heaven. What I say goes," Emperor Yuanyou declared righteously. "Return it to me at once. Otherwise, I feel as if something is missing from my heart."
"No. I still need to speak with Mother every day now."
Song Yu refused decisively. "Mother has listened to you call out 'Fen'er...' for decades. Shouldn't she hear me call her 'Mother' a few times?"
Fen'er, look at how rebellious this scoundrel is!
Emperor Yuanyou had just finished this thought in his mind when he realized Fen'er's portrait was already in the Eastern Palace.
"Will you give it back to me or not?"
"No."
Song Yu met Emperor Yuanyou's gaze directly. "Ahuan also needs to speak with Grandmother Empress. This portrait should belong to your son now."
In the end, Emperor Yuanyou did not get the portrait back, and in his anger, he couldn't eat a bite that day.
Wu Qi was frantic with worry.
The next day, Song Yu went to the Zichen Hall again. Seeing Song Yu's empty hands, Emperor Yuanyou's hopeful spirit deflated once more.
But then Song Yu spoke directly. "I had a dream. I dreamed of Mother."
Emperor Yuanyou's ears perked up subtly.
"I dreamed that no one died in that assassination attempt. The Imperial Guards had laid their plans in advance, so you did not die, and Mother did not die either."
"I dreamed that Mother resided permanently in the Kunning Palace, and the Zichen Hall was practically deserted, as you would rush to Kunning Palace the moment court adjourned. I grew up under the guidance of you and Mother. I possessed both your foresight and Mother's decisive courage and kindness."
"Within a year of my beginning my studies, you established me as Crown Prince, ordering important court ministers to cultivate me into a man accomplished in both civil and military arts. You always said I was your and Mother's pride."
"In that court, everyone praised Mother as a virtuous empress and called me the future of Great Qi. We were all exceptionally happy."
"When I reached marriageable age, Mother personally selected my Crown Princess. Two years after our wedding, we had a daughter, named Ahuan. On that day, the sky was filled with rosy clouds, and songs of celebration seemed to echo across the land."
"Father, that is happiness, isn't it?"
Emperor Yuanyou couldn't help but imagine the scene from the dream Song Yu described.
It was exactly the same as what he had envisioned countless times himself.
Emperor Yuanyou nodded involuntarily.
"Father, the dream felt so real."
Song Yu's lips curved into a smile. "So I believe it was a dream sent by Mother, wanting to tell us that she is always with us."
As long as they do not forget, the departed never truly fade away.
Perhaps, somewhere, he was indeed living such a happy and peaceful life.
