The door creaked softly as it swung open, the gap widening to release a wave of warm, fragrant air from within, mingled with the distinct scent of ambergris—a symbol of imperial dignity.
Yun Wan stepped over the threshold in her pale, soft-soled embroidered shoes. The dim light inside the room seemed to swallow her whole, like a beast opening its maw to devour her inch by inch.
Her footsteps faltered, and a shiver of unease prickled at her heart.
Seeing her enter, Jiang Fusheng flicked his horsetail whisk and considerately closed the door behind her. Turning to Yue Ya, whose face was a mix of alarm and worry, he grinned reassuringly. "Don’t fret, Miss Yue Ya. There’s a brazier inside—your mistress won’t catch a chill."
Yue Ya’s lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.
Something about this didn’t feel right.
......
The door shut abruptly behind her, and Yun Wan instinctively glanced back. Seeing it was only loosely closed and not locked, she relaxed slightly.
Moving with light, graceful steps, she approached a tall standing screen and bowed slightly toward the figure beyond it. "Thank you for receiving me, Your Majesty. This humble subject apologizes for the intrusion."
Emperor Jingxuan said nothing, likely too indifferent to acknowledge her. Yun Wan’s gaze flickered to the indistinct outline of his reclining form behind the screen before she quietly retreated.
Yet the moment she moved, his voice cut through the silence—low, cool, and laced with a rough, teasing edge, like gravel scraping against her ears. "And where does Madam think she’s going?"
Yun Wan froze, her heel settling softly back onto the floor. "This humble subject dares not disturb Your Majesty. I merely thought to find a seat outside."
Preferably somewhere far away, where she could breathe freely.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the figure behind the screen shifted, and Emperor Jingxuan’s voice drifted out, languid yet pointed. "There’s a chair right behind you, Madam. Why not sit there?"
His gaze seemed to pierce through the screen, pinning her in place.
She glanced back and, sure enough, a round-backed chair stood barely half a step away.
Yun Wan bit her lip, her fair face betraying reluctance.
If she sat here, every move she made would be under his scrutiny.
But the longer she hesitated, the heavier his stare weighed on her, raising goosebumps along her skin.
Defeated, she took a half-step back and sat down.
The room was spacious, yet only two lanterns cast a dim, golden glow. With nothing else to occupy her, Yun Wan lowered her eyes to study the shadow she cast on the floor.
Whether from the brazier or the heated floors, the dampness from the rain outside had already half-dried from her outer robe. But her shoes and stockings remained soaked, the soles caked with mud—uncomfortable and impossible to dry quickly.
Satisfied with her compliance, Emperor Jingxuan withdrew his gaze—only for a sharp, throbbing pain to lance through his temples, spreading like a relentless drill into his skull.
His forehead darkened with tension, his stern, chiseled features paling as sweat beaded along his jawline. He clenched his teeth, fighting to suppress the agony.
Yet the more he resisted, the fiercer the pain grew, burrowing deep into his bones and gnawing at his mind.
Even a man as unyielding as Emperor Jingxuan couldn’t entirely mask his suffering. His breaths grew ragged, the sound unmistakable.
Yun Wan stiffened, wondering if she’d misheard.
But as the moments passed, the labored breathing from behind the screen left no doubt.
She rose and took two hesitant steps forward. "Your Majesty... are you unwell?"
At her movement, Emperor Jingxuan tensed, though the crimson veins spiderwebbing across his vision blurred his sight.
"Does Madam recall my affliction?"
His voice was nearly unrecognizable—hoarse and strained, as though each word cost him dearly.
Understanding dawned, and Yun Wan instinctively stepped closer. "Has Your Majesty’s headache returned?"
"Yes."
Her delicate brows furrowed, a veil of concern softening her features.
After a brief hesitation, she spoke again, her voice gentle as a clear spring. "Is there anything this humble subject can do? Should I ask Eunuch Jiang to summon the imperial phy—"
Before she could finish, Emperor Jingxuan interrupted.
"Come here."
She edged nearer to the screen, her silhouette enlarging, but he wasn’t satisfied.
"Step around it."
With the barrier gone, his face came into full view—pale yet commanding, his temples damp with sweat, veins bulging at his forehead, his eyes bloodshot. The sight was startling.
Yun Wan stood frozen, lips parting soundlessly.
So this was how he suffered during an episode. Far worse than she’d imagined.
Emperor Jingxuan studied her, his gaze dark and inscrutable despite the pain. His lips, though bloodless, curled faintly. "Madam wishes to help me?"
She hesitated, fingers curling within her sleeves, then gave a small nod.
Consider it repayment for the day he’d escorted her home.
His smirk deepened. "And how does Madam intend to help?"
How, indeed?
Yun Wan’s first thought was to call for the imperial physician—to ease his torment with medicine as swiftly as possible.
But given the secrecy, she guessed he didn’t want this known. Even Princess Yongshou seemed unaware, or else the room would’ve been swarmed by now.
Emperor Jingxuan’s voice cut through her thoughts. "Do you know how to massage?"
She nodded. "A little."
"Then oblige me."
With that, he shifted onto his back, reclining against a jade pillow. His dark brocade robe spilled over the edge of the couch, the jade pendant at his waist chiming softly.
Realizing his intent, Yun Wan recoiled. "Your Majesty!"
"This—this is improper."
Not only did their stations forbid such intimacy, but as a widow, how could she lay hands on him? The scandal would ruin her.
And what if she worsened his condition? Could she bear the consequences?
Her resistance must’ve shown plainly, for Emperor Jingxuan’s eyes narrowed. "Was Madam lying earlier? Do you know the penalty for deceiving the throne?"
Beneath the lazy drawl was steel.
Trapped, Yun Wan inched forward in her damp shoes until she stood beside the couch.
To reach his temples, she’d have to sit. Swallowing her unease, she perched gingerly on the edge, rolling up her sleeves to bare her slender wrists.
After a moment’s study, her hands hovered near his face.
The cool tips of her fingers pressed against his temples, and his brow relaxed slightly.
Encouraged, she applied gentle pressure, circling slowly while watching for his reaction.
A faint, floral scent drifted between them. At some point, Emperor Jingxuan had opened his eyes.
"Madam is quite skilled," he murmured, lips quirking.
She kept her gaze lowered. "When my late husband studied for long hours, he often suffered headaches. I learned this method from a physician. It seemed to ease his pain somewhat."
The smile vanished from Emperor Jingxuan’s face.
His lips thinned, his eyes turning icy.
