Changes (2)
At the banquet hosted by the Emperor, major events had unfolded one after another, as if someone had planned it all along.
On the first day, Zuo Ci — a man no one had expected — appeared and worked his Daoist arts; on the second, the Prince of Chenliu broke her long silence and stepped onto the official stage at last.
So this was what they meant by "always something new and thrilling." Once things had gone this far, I couldn't help wondering what on earth tomorrow would bring.
I didn't think that was such a strange thing to feel. But contrary to those expectations, from the third day onward the banquet proceeded in the most ordinary fashion imaginable — a repeating cycle of exchanged blessings and warm conversation, of delicious food and idle pleasure.
Not that I was complaining. A life of nothing but eating and playing — who in their right mind would find fault with that?
If anything, I felt like a modern man watching his holiday weekend slip away. Time, which moved on with pitiless grace no matter how you begged it to stay. Once this honey-sweet, blissful banquet ended, I would have to march off on yet another long expedition.
Whether that expedition led to Gangdong or Yi Province made no difference. Both were places that wore you out just getting there from Luoyang. Gangdong was simply punishingly far away, and while Yi Province sat close to Chang'an, the mountains there were a damned plague. A long march of at least a month each way, or a treacherous mountain crossing that made everyone click their tongues — ask a soldier to choose between the two, and I'd wager plenty would crack a joke about picking death instead.
There was a reason Shu and Wu had held out against Wei despite being outmatched several times over in national strength.
Hm... by that reckoning, had I just inherited Shu's Liu Yan and Wu's Liu Yao as my enemies? Liu Yao seemed like the sort who might surrender if I let his power ripen a little and coaxed him along, but that bastard Liu Yan would probably come at me the way Liu Biao had — belly bared, daring me to strike.
Even Liu Biao, a man with talent worthy of the Three Excellencies, had let power turn his head and made one stupid choice. So what hope was there for Liu Yan — the very man who had petitioned the court to invent the rank of Provincial Governor in the first place? If Liu Biao was a man who had rotted away playing king in Jing Province, Liu Yan had been pitch-black in his intentions from the very start.
By the way — why the hell does that Liu Yan live so long? In the history I knew, he should have died of old age ages ago and passed the Governorship of Yi Province down to his son. Though with men like Lu Zhi and Huangfu Song still alive and well, lifespans in this world did seem stretched across the board. Which made it all the more surprising that the previous Emperor had died years ahead of schedule.
At any rate, time flowed on regardless of my musings, and the banquet that had stretched across so many days finally came to an end.
Well. There goes the good life.
Watching what could truly be called the final scene of my wedding festivities, I thought of the documents surely piling up in my office and let out a long sigh.
"Ah, Hwahyeon. There you are."
"Your Majesty?"
Just then, Her Majesty the Emperor came gliding toward me with Yaongi cradled in her arms. Paying no heed to the stares around us, she pulled me into a tight embrace and whispered.
"I find myself looking forward to tonight as well."
When I could only stare back in bewilderment, she flashed a sly smile.
"Is it not a most vital duty, as Emperor of Han, to raise an heir?"
…….
"And so you, my Gukseo, must put your strength to diligent use."
It seemed to me she was already putting it to use far more than enough.
Her Majesty had grown considerably more skilled, it was true, but she still couldn't hold out for long before losing consciousness. Not that anyone called her the weakest the way they did Seo Yeo and Lü Bu — at some point she had quietly risen into the same tier as Diaochan and Cao Cao.
...Was this, too, some kind of talent? Even Cao Cao with her legendary appetites, or the devastatingly beautiful Diaochan, hadn't improved at this pace. Watching Her Majesty level up with every single night we shared left me with a strange feeling.
"Mm... indeed."
Then, as if remembering something, Her Majesty declared:
"Yesterday I endured five rounds. Today, I shall strive for six."
…….
I truly had no words.
Truthfully, it felt less like a matter of succession and more like she simply loved being with me — and was throwing herself at me without restraint. So this was the fabled heat of newlyweds.
Behind the Emperor, cooing in that honeyed voice, I caught sight of Liu Xie, her gaze boring into me. I wondered for a moment whether this might be too much stimulation for a child who hadn't yet come of age — but a simple embrace between us surely couldn't hurt.
…….
She did watch Her Majesty with what looked like a flicker of envy, but I didn't read anything serious into it. Children acting spoiled with adults was perfectly normal, wasn't it? At most, she probably just wanted to be held and pampered in my arms too. I'd seen plenty of kids like that back in Bing Province, so nothing about it struck me as strange.
"Me too... ...like... ...that..."
Her Highness the Prince of Chenliu murmured just once, but her voice was so faint I couldn't make out the rest.
And so even the after-party drew to a close, and the hour arrived for everyone to return to their daily lives.
So much had happened, but if I had to name the single greatest change, it would be this: now that I was officially a member of the imperial family, I could no longer go on living outside the palace walls.
"Now, this place shall be where you dwell."
Her Majesty, who had been guiding me personally through the vast palace, stopped before one particular building and addressed me. I looked it over and answered in a rather flustered voice.
"...You mean... this place?"
"Indeed."
The Emperor confirmed my question with utter confidence.
The imperial palace, spared from Dong Zhuo's torch, was truly enormous. Its name, if I recalled correctly, was Nangung — the Southern Palace. The very same name, down to the last character, as the Nangung clan that so often appears in wuxia novels.
It was the first palace raised after Emperor Guangwu — founder of the Later Han — moved the capital from Chang'an to Luoyang. Every emperor since had expanded it again and again, until the place could boast several hundred years of history. Naturally, it was immense, and extravagantly ornate.
In the history I remembered, Dong Zhuo's flames had reduced it to ash — yet here, it had survived unscathed. Barring any surprises, it would surely be preserved for posterity as a cultural treasure.
...Though in exchange, the Weiyang Palace had burned to the ground. News that would have drawn tears of blood from Emperor Gaozu of Han, the man who crushed the Hegemon-King of Western Chu. The Luoyang palace lived, and so the Chang'an palace had died in its place. Honestly, that arsonist bastard Dong Zhuo — there was no letting him off gently.
Anyone who knew would understand: an imperial palace wasn't just one grand palace squatting alone on the grounds. Even in the Joseon era, think of a wealthy yangban estate — several buildings inside the gate and walls, no? The Han imperial palace worked much the same way, merely scaled up to a monstrous size. It was a collection of large buildings, each raised for its own purpose, with people residing in whichever suited them. One quarter for the Emperor, another for the palace maids — that sort of arrangement. When it was time to work, you simply walked over to whichever palace handled the day's duties. A home practically attached to the workplace — the location alone was unbeatable.
I gave my future residence a slow, appraising sweep. Pillars so polished they seemed to glow. Perfect symmetry, without a single line out of place. Ornamentation lavish enough to wring gasps from any onlooker. It was also, I noticed, far larger than the house where I currently stayed with my mother. Having taken in the building — which anyone could see had been raised by a master's hands — I offered my verdict.
"It's remarkably pristine. I'd believe you if you told me it was brand new."
"A keen eye. It is, in fact, newly built."
"...I beg your pardon?"
At my remark, Her Majesty nodded with a look of pride.
"This luxurious structure was commissioned by the Former Emperor — the late sovereign. I have since given it certain refinements of my own."
The Former Emperor — that would be Emperor Ling, Liu Hong, a man whose name was practically a byword for misrule. Honestly, hardly a name that warmed the heart, but his daughter stood right in front of me, so I kept my expression carefully neutral.
"When I looked into what purpose it was meant to serve, it appeared it was to be one of the banquet halls."
So even with the dynasty collapsing in plain sight, he'd planned to keep feasting right to the bitter end. A remarkably consistent man, truly. And this was the man who had joined hands with the Ten Attendants — the combo effect had been catastrophic, and the Han had come crashing down outright.
Perhaps she sensed it too; the Emperor's expression darkened, just slightly.
"Honestly... he was not a good father."
…….
Sensing the air around us grow heavy, I held my tongue. Her attendants, too, seemed to be remembering that dark era, and a subdued gloom settled over them.
Then the Emperor spoke.
"At such a joyous hour, I have spoken far too gloomily."
"...Your Majesty."
"Come. Let us not linger."
With her expression restored, Her Majesty led me onward.
Still — as a wedding gift, she had gone and given me a house inside the imperial palace itself. Honestly, it was quite a shock.