The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

A barely audible sigh escaped from the emperor's tightly pursed lips.

He opened his eyes, and all the complex emotions in them were now covered by a deep and resolute look.

"Give it to her."

The two words were uttered clearly and steadily, yet they seemed to have taken a lot of effort.

"Your Majesty?" Shen Cuo looked up in slight surprise.

"If she wants it, give it to her."

"By imperial decree, all the Heavenly Frost Orchids in the Warm Garden's medicinal garden may be selected by the Hall of Longevity. There is no need for further reports to me."

Tang Xiye's voice suddenly deepened, carrying a chilling quality that seemed to sever something:

"Shen Cuo, remember this. From today onwards, all matters concerning the Hall of Longevity, regardless of their importance, need not be reported to me unless they involve the safety of the palace."

"This is the last time I will indulge her."

As soon as the words were spoken, the warm air inside the pavilion seemed to suddenly drop in temperature.

He sat alone amidst the brilliant candlelight and the boundless snow.

Despite being at the pinnacle of imperial power, his upright figure exuded a chilling aura that seeped into his very bones.

At this moment, the heart in my chest finally turned completely cold, frozen, and could no longer be warmed up.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Shen Cuo lowered his head even further and responded respectfully, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

He said no more, quietly left the warm pavilion, and carefully closed the heavy palace door.

Outside, the wind and snow were raging. He stood under the eaves and clearly conveyed the emperor's decree to the waiting low-ranking eunuch.

The eunuch accepted the order and hurriedly disappeared back into the snowstorm, heading towards the warm garden's medicinal herb garden.

Just as Shen Cuo turned to step into the deep night, a palace maid from the Hall of Longevity returned, carrying a scroll carefully bound in plain white brocade. She bowed slightly amidst the swirling snowflakes.

"Lord Shen, please wait."

Shen Cuo paused, frowned, and looked back. The palace lanterns cast an uncertain glow on half of his face. "Is there anything else?"

"This is a gift from my princess to His Majesty. I would be grateful if you could pass it on, Lord Shen."

The palace maid lifted the scroll above her forehead with both hands, her posture respectful, but her tone conveyed an unyielding insistence.

Shen Cuo's gaze fell on the scroll, plain brocade without any patterns, gleaming with a cold luster under the snow, revealing nothing of its contents.

A hint of doubt and slight impatience crossed his mind. His Majesty was already in a very bad mood tonight. What trouble would Princess Jing cause this time?

However, he knew his limits and after a moment's hesitation, he took the somewhat heavy scroll.

"understood."

He said calmly, turned around, and walked back towards the brightly lit Chengtian Hall.

He knew that His Majesty had not yet gone to bed, after all, he had just been angered by Princess Jing and would probably have a sleepless night.

Inside the hall, Tang Xiye remained in the same posture as before, but the strong tea in front of her had completely cooled down.

Shen Cuo stepped forward lightly, placed the scroll on a corner of the imperial desk, and whispered:

"Your Majesty, a palace maid from the Hall of Longevity presented this item, saying it is... a gift from Princess Mirror to Your Majesty."

Tang Xiye's previously fixed gaze shifted slightly, landing on the plain white scroll.

He did not immediately have Shen Cuo unfold the document, but remained silent for a moment.

The chill in my heart has not yet dissipated.

But as if by some strange twist of fate, he reached out his hand, his fingertips touching the cool, smooth brocade.

"I will do it myself."

His voice was a little hoarse. He refused Shen Cuo's help and untied the sash himself.

The plain brocade slipped off, revealing the slightly worn bright yellow silk underneath.

He grasped both ends of the scroll and slowly unrolled it on the large rosewood imperial desk.

As the scroll unfolded, Tang Xiye held her breath almost imperceptibly.

The scroll was extremely long, so he had to move the paperweight and unfold it little by little.

The vast, snow-capped mountains of the north, the lush lakes and marshes of the south, the magnificent deserts and Gobi of the west, the winding coastlines and islands of the east sea…

This is clearly a...panorama of the vast land of China!

Tang Xiye's fingers, which were holding the edge of the scroll, suddenly tightened, and her knuckles turned bluish-white.

He suddenly remembered many years ago, under the crabapple tree in the Imperial Garden, the girl who always loved to pester him to tell him about the outside world, who had looked up at him with her delicate, pretty face and bright, sparkling eyes, and said:

"Brother, when Zhizhi grows up, I want to travel to every inch of the Nine Provinces and paint the most beautiful landscapes to give to you as a gift!"

"Let my imperial brother sit in the palace and still be able to see the vast landscape!"

At the time, he took it as a naive joke from a young girl, smiled, ruffled her hair, and then forgot about it.

Later, she became increasingly willful and unconventional, and he completely dismissed those childish words from his childhood as distant memories.

original……

She wasn't joking.

original……

She had already finished drawing it.

His gaze swept eagerly toward the end of the scroll, searching for the signature.

Finally, in an inconspicuous corner of the painting, where a few clumps of grass swayed in the wind were depicted, he saw the familiar small characters with a touch of stubbornness in their strokes—

"The mirror was woven and painted in the first month of spring in the seventeenth year of Jingyao."

The seventeenth year of Jingyao.

That was... five years ago, before she came of age.

Her birthday is the third day of the third lunar month, the Shangsi Festival, the day when the crabapple blossoms are in full bloom during the Spring Festival.

With her frail body dragged along, accompanied by her bodyguard Mu Liang, she traversed mountains and rivers, sketching each inch of the landscape with her own hand.

The scroll seems to still bear traces of wind, frost, rain, and snow, mixed with a faint scent of ink that wafts towards you.

Each of those winding lines was like an invisible needle, piercing his heart, which he had just built a wall of ice around.

Tang Xiye stood there, stunned, her gaze fixed on the Nine Provinces Landscape Painting, which had taken countless hours of effort to create.

The heart he thought was already as cold and hard as iron inside his chest felt as if it had been gripped tightly by an invisible hand, twisted into a knot, and a dull pain, belated and almost suffocating, came through.

"Zhizhi..."

A low, hoarse, almost breathy call escaped from between his tightly pursed lips.

The candlelight shattered into flickering golden rays in those suddenly reddened eyes, reflecting the surging waves of pain within.

The vast landscape unfolding before him was meticulously prepared by his weaving.

He reached out, his fingertips trembling, and stroked the painting very lightly and slowly.

It felt as if I could touch the temperature of the fingertips of that girl who held the pen five years ago.

You can see her focused and bright eyes as she treks through unfamiliar mountains and rivers, looking up at the starry sky or sketching.