The magnolia porridge still bubbled gently, emitting soft pops.
This was the last gift he had left for himself.
…Sitting alone on the floor, Xie Bufeng couldn’t help but slowly close his eyes and imagine “what if.”
What if there hadn’t been a palace coup? What if that arrow hadn’t struck him unexpectedly?
Would he be sitting here today, facing Wen Qingci, drinking this bowl of magnolia porridge, and returning to the way things used to be?
In the entire room, only that area had a hint of warmth.
Xie Bufeng sat on the ground, staring blankly at the purple clay pot in front of him. His amber eyes were filled with confusion.
He couldn’t help but wonder… During countless winter nights, when Wen Qingci would arrive here before dawn to wash rice and flowers, did he feel as cold as Xie Bufeng did now?
But he hadn’t even had a chance to say a proper “thank you.”
Their parting had been rushed, just like everything else.
…He was too anxious last night and wanted to keep Wen Qingci, so the words he said were not gentle.
Could it be that until the very last moment, Wen Qingci still thought that he was angry with him?
Xie Bufeng had never been taught how to please or speak properly. His words always matched his temperament—wild and blunt.
As a young man, he had never cared about this before.
But at that moment, he regretted it deeply.
A gentle breeze carried a petal of magnolia, landing near Xie Bufeng’s hand.
The bubbling sound of the magnolia porridge in the pot seemed quieter now.
The young man in dark clothing finally stood up, stumbling over to the purple clay pot.
Facing this pot of magnolia porridge, he felt utterly lost.
Xie Bufeng couldn’t bear to eat it.
Leaving it here to stay warm would cause it to dry out completely soon.
But if he left it outside, the fragrant aroma would vanish in an instant.
It was merely prolonging the inevitable.
Xie Bufeng didn’t know… how to keep it here.
Just like he didn’t know how much longer he could hold Wen Qingci in his arms.
The tolling of the bell and the scattered crows echoed through the air.
Each beat struck Xie Bufeng’s heart heavily.
A powerful tremor jolted him awake.
The young man turned to look out the window—now, only a few snowflakes drifted lazily from the half-empty sky.
The clouds had thinned, allowing pale golden sunlight to pierce through and fall upon the enormous magnolia tree in the courtyard.
The night had long passed.
It was time to wake up from the dream.
The courtyard door of the Imperial Medical Bureau, closed all night, was finally pushed open.
The narrow path outside was crowded with people—guards who had helped Xie Bufeng seize the throne.
And there was Consort Lan, dressed in plain clothes, holding Xie Fuyin’s hand, her face filled with anxiety.
Xie Bufeng’s gaze swept over the crowd, finally settling at the end of the path—where a coffin lay.
His heart clenched with pain once more.
Seeing him emerge, Consort Lan didn’t say anything. She simply knelt down, holding the little princess’s hand, and then everyone else followed suit.
Xie Bufeng felt like laughing.
He wanted to break the forced calmness of this group and ask them why they were all kneeling before him.
To burn that cursed coffin and warn anyone who dared to pressure him.
But then he remembered Wen Qingci’s parting words.
—“Cherish the person in front of you.”
That sentence felt like a spell, etched into his soul that night.
In the end, it was Yu Guanglin who stepped forward, trembling, and said, “Your Majesty, the person has passed away. It’s time to bury him…”
The elderly court physician, already over seventy, had aged significantly overnight.
His usual speech was cautious, carefully avoiding offense to any noble, even his tone meticulously trained.
But today, Yu Guanglin’s voice carried an unmistakable sadness.
Xie Bufeng glanced at the crowd dispassionately. “Rise.”
As they stood, Consort Lan gently turned to the side and whispered to the maid beside her, “Go fetch Master Song.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Soon, a stranger in a blue robe was led over by Mingliu.
He stood there, bowed slightly, and said, “I, Song Junran, pay my respects to Your Majesty.”
Xie Bufeng frowned at him.
Song Junran had gentle features and a carefree demeanor, but there was a hint of fatigue in his eyes, as if he had been through something. His greeting wasn’t standard, clearly marking him as someone not from Yongdu.
Song Junran didn’t beat around the bush. After he finished speaking, he paused for a few seconds and said directly: “I already know…what happened in Taishu Palace last night. I came here to take Qingci back to the Valley of Divine Physicians.”
His voice was slightly hoarse.
At the mention of “him,” Xie Bufeng’s brow furrowed. The overly familiar tone of those two words grated on him.
Xian Gonggong quickly reminded him in a hushed voice, “Your Majesty, this Master Song is the head of the Valley of Divine Physicians and Wen Qingci’s senior brother.”
Xie Bufeng finally looked at him directly.
Song Junran hailed from the martial world, speaking bluntly. As a healer, he didn’t shy away from life and death. “Before his passing, Qingci promised that his body would be used for medical research. As his senior brother, I should fulfill his last wish. Besides…”
His voice carried a hint of unrestrained sorrow and hesitation.
Clearly, not everyone in the Valley of Divine Physicians was as forthright as Wen Qingci, who openly dissected corpses, saying, “Rather than letting a body decay into dust, why not use it for medical study? It’s a fitting end.”
Even within the valley, Wen Qingci was unique.
Song Junran paused, then continued, “He never liked Yongdu or the Taishu Palace. Forcing him to stay here doesn’t align with his wishes.”
After saying that, Song Junran sighed softly, his expression sad and heavy.
Xian Gonggong added softly that as the Valley Master, Song Junran would not have left the Valley of Divine Physicians.
Ever since he heard a few months ago that Wen Qingci could not leave the palace, he rushed here out of concern for his junior fellow apprentice.
Unexpectedly, in the end, he still couldn’t meet his junior brother.
months ago?
These words were like a needle, gently pricking Xie Bufeng.
His intuition told him that this time was a little unusual, but Xie Bufeng, who was overwhelmed by sadness and had a numb brain, had no time to think about it.
Xie Fuyin, sensitive despite her young age, sensed the somber atmosphere and began to cry softly.
The wind picked up, and more magnolia petals fell.
Song Junran pressed on, “Moreover, I believe Your Majesty wouldn’t want to leave his remains—”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
Consort Lan sighed gently, stroking Xie Fuyin’s head. She turned to Xie Bufeng. “He was born in Songxiu Prefecture. He wouldn’t want to be buried in Yongdu.”
“…Your Majesty, let him return home.”
Let him go home.
There was pity and kindness in Consort Lan’s tone.
Yet, it was precisely this tone, along with those simple four words, that made it impossible for Xie Bufeng to utter a refusal. He couldn’t choose selfishness.
“…Okay,” Xie Bufeng forced the word out, his voice rigid.
He would send Wen Qingci home.
The wind suddenly picked up, scattering magnolia petals through the air.
But before those guarding him could breathe a sigh of relief, Xie Bufeng added as he turned away, “Use the Dragon Boat. Take him home via the Yinchuan Grand Canal.”
Xian Gonggong’s eyes widened, fear and surprise mingling as he looked at Xie Bufeng.
The palace guards exchanged puzzled glances.
They all turned to Consort Lan, hoping she could persuade Xie Bufeng.
However, Consort Lan, dressed in plain attire, merely sighed softly, ultimately saying nothing.
The “Dragon Boat” was the largest vessel that could navigate the Yinchuan Grand Canal.
It had served as the main ship during their recent southern expedition.
This vessel was of the highest caliber, typically reserved for the living, not as a funerary boat.
Unless… unless it carried the coffins of the emperor or empress.
The secret of Xie Bufeng carrying Wen Qingci’s body through the entire palace and spending a night with it in the courtyard had become common knowledge.
Everyone tacitly kept this matter hidden, waiting for the day when it would be buried under the dust of history.
In the end, even in unofficial history, such a story would not exist.
Yet, who would have thought that Xie Bufeng himself, unwilling to be forgotten, would insist on binding Wen Qingci’s name to his own, today and in the years to come?
He doesn’t want any palace secrets.
He only wanted transparency—
After the sun rose, everything in the Taishu Palace fell into place.
Within a mere two hours, the palace issued ten imperial edicts in succession.
The largest painting studio opened out of the dock, waiting for the moment to set sail.
Simultaneously, the Guangcheng Monastery on the outskirts of Yongdu opened its gates.
A column of heavily armored soldiers entered the monastery, unlocking the room where Xie Guanzhi had been imprisoned.
“——What do you want?” Xie Guanzhi’s face was wary as he stepped back, asking sharply, “Did my father send you to kill me?”
The two soldiers exchanged glances, then bowed to Xie Guanzhi. “Your Highness, the deposed Emperor Xie Zhaolin has been taken to the round prison. We are here by His Majesty’s order to escort you back to the palace.”
Deposed Emperor Xie Zhaolin?
His Majesty?
The Guangcheng Monastery was far from Yongdu, and Xie Guanzhi had been in seclusion all this time.
Not to mention what happened last night, he didn’t even know what happened last year.
The sudden influx of information left Xie Guanzhi momentarily stunned.
“Are you saying my father has been deposed?”
“Yes.”
“By whom?” His urgency was palpable.
Before he could finish, Xie Guanzhi already knew the answer: “Is it Xie Bu… uh, I mean the Eldest Prince?”
The soldier confirmed, “Yes, Your Highness.”
Xie Bufeng had truly done it.
Xie Bufeng and Xie Guanzhi were both brothers and rivals.
While Xie Guanzhi languished in confinement, Xie Bufeng had risen to prominence in the northern territories. He even returned to Yongdu, deposed their father, and declared himself emperor… their fates diverging dramatically that year on the Grand Canal.
A year or two ago, Xie Guanzhi would have been envious and resentful.
But now, the weight of captivity had dulled his sharp edges.
Aware of the dangers in the north and the formidable challenges of war, Xie Guanzhi fell silent for a moment before saying, “…Wen Qingci truly understood him better than anyone.”
He couldn’t help but recall the scene he witnessed on the canal that day.
After a pause, he added, “Very well, let’s go.”
At that moment, Xie Guanzhi, eager to leave the Guangcheng Monastery, failed to notice the strange expressions on the faces of those around him when he mentioned “Wen Qingci.”
“His Majesty said that you are of age. If you wish, you can return to Wangquan Garden to live.”
The so-called “Wangquan Garden” is the former Jing Zhaoyin Mansion – the home of Xie Guanzhi’s maternal grandfather.
The interior of Wangquan Garden was extremely luxurious. After Jing Zhaoyin was confiscated and exiled, it was taken back by Xie Zhaolin.
Xie Guanzhi didn’t expect Xie Bufeng to be so generous and directly give Wangquan Garden to him.
Let’s listen to what he says…it seems that the new emperor has no intention of restricting his freedom at all.
But come to think of it, Xie Bufeng would definitely not bother to do things that only their “good father” would do.
“Okay,” he said without being polite to Xie Bufeng, “Then let’s go directly to Wangquan Garden.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Xie Guanzhi was imprisoned here. Although he didn’t know what happened in Yongdu, everything happening around Guangcheng Temple could be heard by him.
The moment he walked out of the temple gate, he couldn’t help but look back and couldn’t help but think of Wen Qingci, the only visitor when he was imprisoned here.
Later, Xie Guanzhi heard that Wen Qingci did not stay here for long that day.
Someone came and told him a piece of news, and then he left Guangcheng Temple in a hurry, without even having time to turn around and say hello to Consort Lan.
Xie Guanzhi, who was imprisoned, usually had nothing to do, so whenever he had free time, he would think of this matter.
When he returns to Taishu Palace, I must find Wen Qingci and ask him about it clearly – Xie Guanzhi thought silently.
…
Returning to the Taishu Palace from the monastery, they passed the starting point of the Grand Canal.
As they neared, Xie Guanzhi heard commotion outside the carriage.
He couldn’t resist lifting the curtain and looking out.
The once-empty river was now filled with an enormous ship.
Hardly any commoners stood by the dock, only eunuchs and palace maids bustled about, carrying various items up and down, looking very busy.
“…Why is Dragon Boat here?” Xie Guanzhi couldn’t help but frown, “Is Your Majesty also going on a southern tour?”
Why didn’t he feel that his royal brother had such leisure time?
When the carriage driver heard his question, his hands froze.
But before he could figure out how to answer the prince’s question, Xie Guanzhi discovered something unusual himself.
Xie Guanzhi saw that the dragon boat was hung with long white silks.
At this moment, it was swaying on the river surface with the wind.
The huge word “” hangs quietly on the bow of the ship.
It was black and white, and extremely heavy, pressing the bow of the ship down.
An ominous premonition suddenly arose in his heart.
“Did someone die in Yongdu?” Xie Guanzhi’s voice suddenly became hoarse.
For a moment, he couldn’t figure out who deserved such a large funeral.
“Yes…” The driver finally replied, “It was Physician Wen. He passed away.”
As if he didn’t believe that the person in his memory could die, Xie Guanzhi immediately raised his voice and tightly grasped the window frame: “Are you talking about Wen Qingci?”
“Your Highness, it is Physician Wen.”
Xie Guanzhi’s heart fell from the abyss at this moment.
The joy and excitement of regaining freedom disappeared without a trace in an instant.
“I’m not going to Wangquan Garden anymore,” the young man heard, his own voice was hoarse and unfamiliar, “I’m going back to the palace, I want to go…”
“Go, go and see him.”
Xie Guanzhi couldn’t say the words “see him for the last time” no matter what.
…
Wen Qingci’s body has been placed in the coffin.
According to the customs of the Wei Dynasty, people must be buried within seven days after death.
Therefore, by this evening at the latest, they would place this coffin on the dragon boat to ensure it arrived at Songxiu Prefecture on time.
In one more stick of incense, it would be the time to seal the coffin as calculated by the .
The young emperor, dressed in dark robes, stood silently beside the coffin, gazing at the person sleeping amidst the magnolia blossoms.
Footsteps approached from behind him.
Consort Lan, holding little Xie Fuyin, walked over and finally stopped by the coffin.
The young princess wore a simple gown. She sniffled and gently opened her palm.
“Brother, can I give this to Master Wen?” She asked Xie Bufeng cautiously. “I picked these wildflowers myself during autumn… Master Wen said they were beautiful and asked me to press them in his books.”
The young emperor noticed that Xie Fuyin held a few dried, pale purple wildflowers.
“Alright…”
Xie Bufeng stepped back, making room for her.
Consort Lan cradled Xie Fuyin and gently placed the flowers near Wen Qingci’s hand.
As they were about to leave, Consort Lan, who had been silent all along, suddenly turned to Xie Bufeng. “Your Majesty, won’t you also place something inside to accompany him?”
With that, she walked away.
This was a common folk custom in the Wei Dynasty. Before sealing the coffin, relatives and friends of the deceased would place their most cherished belongings inside, accompanying the departed on their final journey.
The person responsible for sealing the coffin stood nearby.
Consort Lan’s words reminded Xie Bufeng. He looked at Wen Qingci, as if awakening from a dream.
His hands clenched.
A hint of confusion flickered in his eyes.
Xie Bufeng didn’t know what he could give to Wen Qingci.
The Qin Tian Official couldn’t help but remind him, “Your Majesty, the time for sealing the coffin is imminent—”
Before the sentence was complete, the official widened his eyes in shock, staring at the young emperor.
Xie Bufeng slowly raised his hand and removed the light blue jade hairpin from his black hair.
His hair cascaded like ink in an instant.
The young emperor allowed his hair to fall freely, standing by Wen Qingci’s coffin.
His hands trembled.
Gently, Xie Bufeng cradled the jade hairpin, glancing at it before hesitating to press it against his heart.
The warmth of Wen Qingci’s breath lingered from the day he had tied Xie Bufeng’s hair with this jade pin—it seemed it hadn’t dissipated yet.
Now, with his eyes closed, Xie Bufeng could still smell the familiar bittersweet fragrance.
A faint smile curved the young emperor’s lips.
…At this moment, Xie Bufeng was the master of Taishu Palace, the wealthy ruler of the seas, yet he still felt that there was nothing truly his in this world.
Despite all his wanderings, he remained empty-handed.
Only this jade hairpin, imbued with their shared memories and longing, was the sole thing Xie Bufeng could give to Wen Qingci.
The young emperor bent down, carefully wrapping the jade hairpin around Wen Qingci’s wrist.
He pressed a final kiss to Wen Qingci’s cheek.
…
The heavy coffin lid was lifted and sealed.
All light was shut out.
Someone’s quiet sob echoed intermittently in the open space outside the Imperial Medical Bureau.
Standing nearby, Song Junran kept his head lowered.
Unlike the others’ grief, his face was filled with anxiety.
Song Junran silently calculated the time—the pill he had given Wen Qingci would last at most a day.
If he guessed correctly, Wen Qingci had taken it during the palace coup.
After the coffin was loaded onto the ship, he could administer it.
Thinking this, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Huge iron nails were nailed into the coffin.
Would Wen Qingci feel pain?
Or would he be afraid, lying there alone?
Xie Bufeng clenched his fists, his body trembled uncontrollably. His heart seemed to ache with each nail hammered into the coffin.
As if those nails weren’t sealing a coffin, but piercing his heart.
“Bang, bang, bang—”
The clear sound of wood and iron echoed within the Taishu Palace.
“Begin—”
The voice of the Qin Tian Official pierced the calm air.
A single tear slid down Xie Bufeng’s cheek.
As the new emperor, he couldn’t leave Yongdu casually.
He feared that if he followed, he’d regret not letting Wen Qingci go.
So, he forced himself to stay here, relying on reason.
This farewell came too suddenly.
It was like a nightmare that suddenly struck.
Everything happening now felt like prolonged torture.
The massive coffin was placed on the carriage, inch by inch, rolling along the palace road. As it left Taishu Palace, and met Xie Guanzhi’s carriage at the moment it left Taishu Palace.
In the open space in front of the Imperial Medical Bureau, Xie Fuyin, who had been sobbing softly just now, finally couldn’t help but burst into tears with a loud “wa”.
The little body kept shaking, and no matter how Consort Lan tried to coax her, she wouldn’t calm down.
It was as if she wanted to cry out her brother’s share as well.
“Mother, will we really never see Master Wen again?”
“…But he also promised me that he would take me to pick up cicada shells in the summer and tell me how to use them as medicine.”
“Will he not come back in the summer?”
Consort Lan’s breathing was trembling uncontrollably. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t answer the question. Her arms were even shaking, making it difficult for her to hold the little girl in her arms.
Just when Consort Lan wanted to hand her over to the wet nurse.
Xie Bufeng, who had been silently watching the coffin go away, suddenly came up and gently held Xie Fuyin in his arms.
The brother and sister with the same amber eyes are like puppies that were abandoned together.
Xie Fuyin sobbed and hugged Xie Bufeng’s neck tightly, muttering on and on about Wen Qingci’s previous promise.
Xie Bufeng just listened quietly, as if he wanted to make up for the lost time through the little girl’s words.
He slowly stroked Xie Fuyin’s long hair and asked softly, “Did he hold you like this too?”
Xie Fuyin’s body suddenly paused. The little girl shook her head. She was dizzy from crying and said without thinking: “No, no… Master Wen’s arm was badly injured. He can’t hold Fuyin…”
When literally every chapter ends on a cliffhanger ( •ᴗ✧)つ▬ι═ﺤ ❤︎……And this ends our updates frenzy this week…but good news is that if you can’t wait for the next chapter, Subscribe to the advanced chapters membership on my Kofi and get access to up to 10 chapters ahead!
I’ve been crying so much since the last chapters… I really love this work with passion, I love you, translator!!! Thanks for the update 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Thank you for the updates~
Ahh… These onions won’t stop cutting themselves.
What will I do with these puffy eyes?
Thank you, translator.
Someone please pick me up, my years won’t stop falling
tear*