Chapter 8: The Beginning

The first pale light of dawn was just starting to seep through the windows of Chengqian Palace—thin, watery, the kind that made everything look washed out.

Xiao Heng stood still while Qingyuan worked the jade belt around his waist, her fingers moving with quiet familiarity. She tugged the ends into place, then let her palm rest flat against his stomach for a moment.

"You've lost weight," she said, not quite looking up. Her thumb brushed across the fabric, smoothing a crease that wasn't really there.

"Have I?"

"You have." She stepped back, tilted her head, squinted. Then she reached up and straightened his collar—left side, then right, then left again, just to be sure.

She stepped back and gave him a slow once-over, chin lifted, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and approval: "Now you look like an emperor."

Xiao Heng raised an eyebrow: "And what did I look like a moment ago?"

Qingyuan held his gaze, her smile growing one heartbeat at a time: "My husband."

For a heartbeat, he simply looked at her.

As though he’d forgotten there was a court waiting for him.

Then Xiao Heng laughed—a low, helpless laugh that belonged to no one else.

"You…" He shook his head. "…are impossible."

Qingyuan smiled, “Only with you.”

She caught his hand before he could lower it, turned it over, and pressed a soft kiss against his palm.

His fingers curled instinctively around hers, “Qingyuan…”

He stepped closer until there was no space left between them. Resting his forehead gently against hers, he closed his eyes for the briefest moment: "You really are trying to make me late for court."

She looked entirely innocent. "Am I?"

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"Do I?"

He laughed again—shorter this time, warmer. Then he slipped an arm around her waist and drew her into his arms as naturally as breathing, "Now who's making whom late?"

She looked up at him, still smiling. "I suppose…" She let the pause drag. "…we're both guilty."

He didn’t move, close enough that she could feel the warmth off his skin. Neither of them moved.

Then—

A knock came at the door. Two sharp raps, then silence.

Li Dequan's voice came through the doors, careful and pitched just loud enough to be heard without being intrusive.

"Your Majesty."

Xiao Heng let go of her waist slowly, his hands trailing down her arms until his fingers brushed hers.

Then He turned toward the sound: "Come."

Li Dequan stopped at the entrance, his voice lowered to barely more than a murmur: "Your Majesty. The prisoner is dead."

Silence settled over the room.

Qingyuan’s gaze found Xiao Heng's. Neither of them moved or spoke.

The quiet stretched.

"Faster than I thought they'd move."

"They couldn't afford to wait." He adjusting his sleeves with a practiced motion. "The longer Lanxin stayed alive, the greater the chance someone would slip."

Qingyuan smoothing a crease from his sleeve before adjusting the jade belt she'd fastened only moments ago: “So this is where it ends?”

Xiao Heng looked at her. A faint smile ghosted across his lips—thin, knowing.

"No." He held her gaze. "It's the beginning."

Outside the door, Li Dequan's head dipped lower still. He couldn't make sense of their words—didn't need to. But one thing was plain as daylight: His Majesty had taken the news without the slightest change in expression.

Xiao Heng's voice cut through, back to its usual edge of calm command.

"Summon the Imperial Physician. Have the Imperial Physician examine the body thoroughly. I want the official report on my desk after court."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Li Dequan bowed and retreated, his footsteps fading fast down the corridor.

Xiao Heng turned back to Qingyuan. "I'll go see your sister after."

A knowing smile curved at the corner of her mouth. "She'll understand."

Xiao Heng looked at her for a brief moment: “She always has.”

———

The morning court unfolded much as it always did.

Reports from the Ministry of Revenue. A dispute over military provisions on the western frontier that had been dragging on for three sessions now and showed no signs of resolving itself.

One matter gave way to the next, each addressed in measured, practiced tones beneath the soaring roof of the Hall of Supreme Harmony.

Xiao Heng listened, nodded at appropriate intervals, gave the occasional monosyllabic response.

Then, as the final memorial was presented and the court stirred with the familiar rustle of robes preparing to adjourn, an elderly Censor stepped forward.

"Your Majesty." The hall went quiet. The kind of quiet that made the air feel heavier, “There is one remaining matter."

Xiao Heng regarded him from the dragon throne. His face gave nothing away. "Go ahead."

The Censor bowed, taking his time straightening back up. "Yesterday's disturbance at Her Majesty's tea banquet…" He paused, fingers twitching slightly at his sleeves. "…has caused no small measure of concern among the officials."

Before he could continue, a minister from the Ministry of Rites stepped forward, almost too quickly. "The culprit has already been taken into custody." His tone was respectful, but there was an edge underneath—the kind that came from wanting to shut something down before it got out of hand. "The matter belongs to the Inner Palace. I trust Their Majesties will see it handled appropriately."

The hall went still again.

Several ministers dropped their gazes to the floor. Others exchanged glances so brief they barely registered. But everyone understood what had just happened.

The Censor inclined his head, slow and deliberate. "I do not question the handling of the investigation." His voice remained calm, "But the safety of the Inner Palace concerns the dignity of the throne. If such an incident can occur at an imperial banquet—" He allowed the silence to settle before speaking again, "—the court cannot simply pretend it never happened."

Silence settled over the hall like dust.

Every pair of eyes turned toward the dragon throne.

Xiao Heng's expression didn't flicker. His hands rested on the armrests, still, steady. He let the silence stretch just long enough for the hall to grow uneasy—giving the silence just enough room to make them all uncomfortable.

"The investigation is ongoing." His voice came out flat, unhurried, the same tone he used for discussing grain taxes.

Xiao Heng rose from the throne. "Court is adjourned."

The officials bowed in unison, sleeves sweeping the floor. "Long live Your Majesty."

Without another word, Xiao Heng descended from the dragon throne.

By the time the last cries of “Long live Your Majesty” faded beneath the palace roof, he was already gone.