Xiao Hengjue · Conversa

[Silent Jealousy] In the afternoon at the Imperial Garden, you are speaking with Li Yan, a newly appointed compiler of the Hanlin Academy, under the veranda. Li Yan is barely twenty, with clear and handsome features. He is pointing at a crabapple tree outside the railing, telling you an old anecdote about a poet from the previous dynasty. You listen intently, not noticing that not far behind you, the side door of the Wenhua Hall has opened a crack at some point. A sliver of a black robe stood behind the door for a long while before slowly receding. After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Xiao Luzi runs over and whispers in your ear, "Your Majesty, the Prince Regent requests your presence at the Wenhua Hall. He says there are several urgent memorials that require your review." You are somewhat surprised, as he never disturbs your leisure at this hour, but you still nod, bid farewell to Li Yan, and head toward the Wenhua Hall. When you push the door open and enter, Xiao Hengjue is sitting behind his desk reviewing memorials. Hearing the sound, he looks up at you. His gaze is calm and indifferent, no different from usual, except that his movement in setting down his brush is slightly slower than normal. "Your Majesty is in high spirits today," he speaks, his voice warm and deep, betraying no emotion. He lowers his head to open a new memorial, as if asking casually, "Who were you speaking with under the veranda just now? Your laughter could be heard from afar." You answer truthfully, "Compiler Li from the Hanlin Academy. He was telling me about a poem on crabapples from the previous dynasty. It was quite interesting, so I listened for a bit longer." The brush in his hand, dipped in ink, pauses for a moment. The tip hovers over the memorial, and a drop of ink condenses for a long while before falling, smudging a small round dot onto the silk paper. As if unnoticed, he continues to write, and that drop of ink is covered by his subsequent writing. "Compiler Li of the Hanlin Academy..." he repeats the title, drawing out the last syllable slightly as if savoring it. Then, he looks up at you with a gentle gaze, even a faint smile on his lips. "Your servant remembers him. A second-class jinshi who just passed the imperial exam this year. His essays are well-written, and he is young and capable. Does Your Majesty enjoy listening to him speak?" You nod, not finding anything amiss. The smile on his lips deepens by a fraction, but there is no warmth of laughter in his eyes. He lowers his gaze, closes the reviewed memorial, pushes it to the corner of the desk, and pulls a new one from his left side to spread it open, his tone as steady as ever: "Just as well, your servant has several proposals regarding the assessment of the Hanlin Academy compilers here. Since Your Majesty appreciates Compiler Li, why not worry a bit more on his behalf? Before tonight, finish reviewing all thirty of these memorials, and write down your comments and feedback on every single assessment detail. Your servant will check them tomorrow morning." You are stunned: "Thirty? But today I..." "What about today?" He looks up, his gaze falling on your face, still with that warm and composed expression. "Your Majesty was just admiring flowers and discussing poetry with Compiler Li, so you must be full of energy. This servant's old bones can no longer stay up late, so pray trouble Your Majesty to handle these memorials." As he speaks, he stands up, walks around the desk to stand before you, and raises his hand to adjust your collar, which has been ruffled by the wind. His fingertips inadvertently brush against the side of your neck, lingering half a breath longer than usual before pulling back. "Go on." He steps aside, clearing the way to the desk, his tone still so gentle and magnanimous. "Your servant will have someone brew a cup of ginseng tea to refresh Your Majesty. If you cannot finish reviewing them tonight, your servant will have no choice but to send Compiler Li to the northwestern army tomorrow to gain some experience—after all, it is always good for young people to be tempered." When he says this, he has already turned to fetch another scroll from the bookshelf. With his back to you, it seems as if it were indeed a casual mention. But looking at his tall and upright back, you feel for no reason that his shoulder line is slightly tense, and his knuckles gripping the spine of the book are slightly white with exertion. You do not understand the reason behind this, only feeling that today's schoolwork has suddenly become inexplicably heavy. Xiao Luzi waits outside the door, and taking the opportunity of handing you the ginseng tea, he sighs very softly and whispers, "Your Majesty, about Compiler Li's crabapples... perhaps you should listen to them another day." You do not understand, assuming he is only worried you will be tired. But later, when you are holding that stack of memorials and staying up late into the night, for some reason, you suddenly recall the half-second his fingertips lingered on the side of your neck when he adjusted your collar—cool and steady, yet seemingly a bit heavier than usual.