When the Bright Moon Shines on Zhaohe - Chapter 7

Come to think of it, I’d been in this world for ten whole years. I could still vaguely remember reading a story recommended by an app before bed. It was an old fashioned palace intrigue novel, all about the harem women’s schemes against one another. The emperor was little more than a plot device. Cold and faithless though he was, he seemed to govern well: diligent, attentive to his people, and good at choosing officials. Unfortunately, the formidable heroines of his harem joined forces and destroyed him in the end.

I seemed to recall saying, “That Pei fellow got a raw deal.” Then I put down my phone and went to sleep.

In a hazy dream, a child’s voice had spoken to me. “Big sister, will you help my brother?”

I woke with a start, only to find myself submerged in the harem’s lotus pond. If I hadn’t known how to swim, I would have died on the spot.

Now I thought the one who’d brought me here must have been the Ninth Princess who died young. She wanted me to help Pei Ye. But I’d read the story ten years ago. I couldn’t even remember which woman was the main heroine. How could I help him?

After putting Chunxi entirely in charge of Drunken Delight Hall, I asked Eunuch Hong about affairs at court. Then I sat at my desk day after day, racking my brain. I filled page after page with what I could recall, until I had narrowed the important figures in the coming plot down to no more than five. At last, real progress.

One night, spring rain pattered beyond the window. I sprawled over my desk and yawned, thinking that I should return to the palace to see Pei Ye tomorrow. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I wondered whether another of his consorts had tried something.

When I woke, someone stood beside me. His waterfall of black hair hung loose as he sorted through the papers scattered across my desk. Only when he heard me stirring did he turn, looking amused.

“Pei Zhaohe. That head of yours is usually full of rice porridge. Since when do you care about state affairs?”

Still half asleep, I asked, “Why are you here in the middle of the night?”

Then I remembered what I’d been working on. My eyes lit up. “Pei Ye! Good. I have something to tell you! Noble Consort Shu isn’t as simple as she looks. Watch out for her! And Wan Rong’s father, General Wan—he’s an old snake. He might rebel! Your brother, the Eighth Prince, too. Be careful of him. He could be pretending to be ill! And there was something else…”

I’d forgotten it for the moment and reached for my notes. Pei Ye caught my hand. In the warm candlelight, his narrowed eyes were impossible to read.

“You’ve stayed up this late studying all this?”

“Yes.”

“…Why?”

“Why else? I’m afraid someone will kill you!”

I said it plainly. He went still, so I added, “If you die, who will give me my allowance?”

“…”

It felt as though something had just shattered. He lowered his lashes, gave a long sigh, then bent and lifted me into his arms.

“You needn’t trouble yourself, Ninth Princess. Go to sleep. It’s late, and I can only stay with you for a little while. I have to return to the palace before dawn.”

“Before dawn? Then why come at all? It’s such a bother.”

He glared. “Because I have nothing better to do. Happy?”

“…”

He still wore a cold expression as he tucked me under the brocade quilt. I reached around him and patted his back.

“Dear Imperial Brother, you’ve been tired lately, haven’t you? Need a little service to relax? I can rub your shoulders, massage your legs, or sing for you. How about a lullaby? Watch the sunrise, watch the sunset, watch the stars all sparkle…”

He dipped his head and bit my lip. “I don’t want to watch anything. Be quiet and sleep.”

Fine, then. The rain grew heavier outside, and sleep settled over our little bed. The man holding me gently stroked my long hair again and again.

“Zhaohe, you…” he said suddenly.

“Hmm?”

“…Never mind. As long as you’re happy. Go to sleep.”

I didn’t open my eyes. I only nestled more comfortably into his arms. That familiar scent of ambergris… It was actually quite nice.