Chapter Forty: I Like You

When Feng Qiuji saw Ling Zetian, he was in the study, reviewing memorials.

"Your Majesty, I have something to tell you." She kicked the door open, strode up to the desk, planted both hands on its surface, and announced loudly.

"What is it? Speak." Ling Zetian didn’t even look up, feeling that she was blocking his light, so he shifted the documents to the side.

"You need to send a few experts to watch over Miss Qin around the clock."

"Why monitor her?"

"Because someone wants to harm her."

"And how do you know that someone wants to harm her?"

"I... I just know, alright? Can you stop asking so many questions? If you don’t listen to me and something happens to your beloved Consort Qin, don’t say I didn’t warn you." If she told the truth, who knew if Ling Zetian would kill her first? To avoid an early death, it was best to say as little as possible. Yes, that was best!

"Oh." Ling Zetian looked up, meeting Feng Qiuji’s gaze.

His eyes were genuinely beautiful—narrow, phoenix-shaped, long dark lashes, crystal-clear pupils, focused intently on her. Even Feng Qiuji, as a woman, couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy.

"Come with me," Ling Zetian said suddenly, a glimmer of light appearing in his eyes as he stood.

"For what?" Feng Qiuji was bewildered, but Ling Zetian had already taken her hand and led her out of the study.

He pulled her along winding corridors, turning left and right, through the imperial gardens, twisting east and west, then into a dense peach grove, and along a shaded path for what felt like forever... Just as Feng Qiuji was about to lose her bearings, her head spinning, Ling Zetian finally stopped.

"We’re here." He released her hand and slipped his arm around her waist.

Feng Qiuji, puzzled, stared at the battered vermillion door with the words "Forbidden Ground" painted on it. As Ling Zetian’s arm encircled her waist, her confusion deepened, and she blinked at him in bafflement.

Before she could react, Ling Zetian swept her into his arms, summoned his inner strength, and leapt onto the top of the wall, then down into the so-called forbidden ground.

Feng Qiuji’s first impression was: What a vast bamboo forest!

Layer upon layer of bamboo flanked the pebble-strewn path, tall and dense, their nodes weaving overhead to obscure the sky. It was almost winter, so the sparse leaves were piled high with sparkling snow. It was easy to imagine how idyllic this place must be in the warmth of spring or the lush shade of summer.

"This is my secret garden," Ling Zetian said, a rare smile gracing his lips as he gazed over the endless bamboo.

Feng Qiuji looked at him in surprise. He used the word "my" instead of the imperial "we." She truly hadn’t expected him to bring her here.

"Whenever I am troubled or upset, I come here alone for a walk or to sit quietly. It reminds me that all things in the world, all people, are but dust. Especially in summer, listening to the rustling bamboo leaves, my heart feels open and at peace." Ling Zetian clasped his hands behind his back, strolling forward as he spoke.

Feng Qiuji followed, mouth agape, listening as she admired the scenery. The only flaw was the cold; otherwise, everything was perfect.

"This place used to be the palace’s aviary. Later, after something happened, my father declared it forbidden, and now few ever come here. So I often visit by myself."

"Oh," Feng Qiuji replied perfunctorily. "So are you troubled today?"

"Seeing you in low spirits lately, I wanted to bring you here for a walk."

"Well, thank you, then." Feng Qiuji hesitated, then felt a wave of helplessness. Wasn’t he the one in a bad mood? Ling Zetian’s inconsistent treatment of her only made things more frustrating. "May I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Why won’t you let me leave, Your Majesty?"

"Because I don’t want to."

"What?"

"I don’t want you to leave, so I won’t let you."

"Why don’t you want to let me go?" Though Ling Zetian’s words were clear enough, Feng Qiuji, stubborn as ever, decided to press on.

"Because I like you."

Ha. Feng Qiuji could only laugh dryly now.

"Your Majesty, may I ask what it is you like about me?" she said awkwardly. "I can change if you want."

Like her? What nonsense!

Unrequited love was already painful enough; now Ling Zetian showed concern from time to time, asked her to sleep with him, and now he even declared he liked her. This kind of ambiguous presence... was truly cruel. No wonder, having grown up in the imperial family, his mind was so deep and calculating! Feng Qiuji suddenly felt a bit of disdain for Ling Zetian. Was he just playing games with her?

It was too much!

So what if he was emperor? Did that give him the right to toy with someone’s feelings? Was her heart not a heart? Was she not a person?

As these thoughts tumbled through her mind, Ling Zetian suddenly pulled her into his arms again.

Why did it seem like Ling Zetian enjoyed hugging her lately...?

Was it just because of the cold...?

Winter had only just begun, yet whenever he held her like this, her heart fluttered as if it were spring. Oh, how infuriating!

"When I say I like you, I mean it."

"Alright, but do you really know what it means to like someone? Is it because you argued with Miss Qin today and now you like me instead? Or is it just boredom? You shouldn’t say such things lightly—it causes trouble for others..."

Ling Zetian listened in silence, only holding her tighter.

"Your Majesty, please don’t do this." Feng Qiuji struggled to keep her head clear. If only Qin Ruyan didn’t exist, if only Ling Zetian didn’t love her—if he told her he liked her, Feng Qiuji would surely have thrown her arms around him, kissed him fiercely, and exclaimed with joy, "Why didn’t you say so sooner?!"

But now...

She felt like the other woman.

Feng Qiuji had always despised mistresses. Why? She thought they destroyed families, were materialistic and amoral, and willingly became men’s playthings—no self-respect, utterly shameful! Mistresses deserved to be scorned like rats in the street.

Yet now...

She herself had become one.

No, that wasn’t quite right. She was the empress, Ling Zetian’s legal wife—how could she be the other woman? If anyone was the mistress, it should be Consort Qin!

But even she couldn’t convince herself with this logic.

Fine, she’d just have to let go. Though not exactly a hero, Feng Qiuji considered herself a person of principle. How could she steal someone’s love and destroy another’s happiness?

"Your Majesty, you already have Consort Qin, who loves you very much. So I advise you to remain faithful, because women value loyalty as much as men do, even if reality sometimes forces them to compromise." She broke free from his embrace and looked him in the eye, speaking earnestly.

The thought of Ling Zetian and Qin Ruyan tangled together in bed... Ah, saying more would only bring tears. Who could know how much it hurt inside? But what could she do? She was just an outsider, after all, with an unrequited love.

"Oh," Ling Zetian replied, his tone unreadable.

Seeing this, Feng Qiuji couldn’t be bothered to say more. She turned to leave. She had no idea where she was, but since Ling Zetian had this in mind, it was best to avoid him in the future; if anything really happened, she would truly become the other woman!

Ling Zetian watched as his arms fell empty, an inexplicable sense of loss washing over him. The last time he’d embraced Feng Qiuji, she’d pushed him away; this time, the same. All he wanted was to hold her for a while—why did she always reject him?

He caught up with her, overtook her, and soon Feng Qiuji could only watch his back as he leapt lightly onto the wall and, with a whoosh, disappeared from sight.

What was wrong with him?

Was he angry because she rejected him? He was the emperor, after all—how could he be so petty?

Ling Zetian had left, but how was she supposed to get out? She didn’t know martial arts—she couldn’t just leap over the wall. Was she supposed to freeze to death here?

Feng Qiuji really wanted to call Ling Zetian back and give him a good beating. Staring up at the towering wall, a wave of helplessness washed over her. Useless! She couldn’t lift or carry, couldn’t do anything. Why was she so wretched?

"Ling Zetian, get your ass back here!" she shouted, loud enough to send snow tumbling from the trees and startle the sleeping birds from their nests. On such a cold day, she’d scared them all awake from their dreams!

Utter defeat!

Standing at the foot of the wall, Feng Qiuji tilted her head back at a forty-five degree angle, gazing mournfully at the sky. Apparently, she was fated to spend her life climbing walls.

---A side note---The setting sun has faded, the stone horse stands lonely, and the girl weeps as she leaves.