The New Year passed, the weather grew warmer, and spring arrived.
By the second month, the roses at the Spring Court Hall had begun to bud.
The signs of spring were everywhere.
Since being made Prince of Changfu, Chief Eunuch Qin had been kept on in the palace by the emperor to enjoy his retirement. He no longer had to stand daily duty, though he still came in during the day.
And even so, he’d noticed: His Majesty and His Highness had at least been sleeping apart for half a month now.
Ever since that conversation between His Majesty and Chief Eunuch Qin had been overheard by His Highness, the prince had clearly been deeply concerned. He’d drawn up an extremely strict regimen for His Majesty’s health.
Now the emperor wasn’t allowed to get out of bed before the hour of chen (around 7 to 9 AM), and by the hour of hai (before 9 PM), he had to be lying down to rest. Every day, apart from working in the small imperial study, he was required to ride and practice archery to strengthen his body.
On top of that, His Highness personally submitted a menu suggestion to the imperial kitchens each day, instructing them to change things up and prepare different dishes. After half a month of this, they’d worked out a well-rounded, balanced diet that suited His Majesty’s tastes.
As for medicinal baths, acupuncture, and incense therapy—those were scheduled down to the minute.
The one thing that had decreased was the number of herbal tonics His Majesty drank—cut down by at least half.
Apparently, His Highness had taken to heart the saying that all medicine is, to some degree, poison.
And beyond that, His Highness made time every day to accompany His Majesty on walks around the palace grounds. He even kept several tanks of fish, and had now assigned His Majesty a task: to oversee the palace gardeners, making sure they planted more flowers and greenery as the weather warmed.
He said that tending to plants and fish could help calm the mind and nourish the spirit.
He was even planning that once it got a bit warmer, they would move out to Lihua Palace for a spell.
His Majesty was highly cooperative.
Even back in his teens, he’d never been this obedient.
But that was just proof of Prince Huan’s skill.
For instance, whenever he brought up His Majesty’s health in front of him, he’d speak with such a pitiful, aggrieved tone. His Majesty wasn’t much for words, nor was he like the late Martial Emperor who could be tender and coaxing—but inside, no one could imagine how much his heart ached. How could he refuse His Highness anything?
Little did people know, the moment His Highness turned away, he’d put on a cold face and dive straight into government affairs—his tone a notch or two sharper the instant he left His Majesty’s side.
But in truth, His Highness’s efforts had made a real difference.
Ever since His Majesty had been poisoned, he’d exhausted himself day after day. Later, after ascending the throne, he’d pushed through his illness to handle state affairs. His poor health was one thing, but the lack of rest had certainly taken its toll.
Now, with more sleep, better food, and a balance between work and rest, his complexion was visibly improving.
Serving at his side, Eunuch Qin could feel it too—His Majesty was growing stronger by the day, vigorous and full of energy.
Especially these past few days—this was the first time Eunuch Qin had ever seen the phrase unsatisfied desire practically written across His Majesty’s face.
After all, in the regimen His Highness had laid out for His Majesty’s health, abstinence was one of the rules.
Tomorrow was the Flower Festival—and His Majesty’s birthday. Eunuch Qin figured there was no way His Highness would still keep to separate beds that night.
From the crack of dawn, Eunuch Qin could see it: the emperor was restless.
Of course, His Majesty wasn’t the type for rash or improper conduct. These years had taught him to keep his emotions carefully in check. Now that he was a married man, he was all the more determined to project a dignified, manly image before His Highness. He reviewed memorials as usual, held court, ate his meals, took a stroll through the palace, and even spent some time at the archery range.
One arrow after another—thwack thwack thwack thwack—the targets were shot clean through and lay scattered on the ground.
Watching from the side, Eunuch Qin couldn’t help thinking the targets looked an awful lot like His Highness.
These days His Majesty didn’t just look healthier—he’d filled out too, with none of that frail, gaunt look he’d once had.
If anything, it was His Highness who seemed even slimmer than before—especially beside His Majesty, his delicate elegance all the more pronounced.
His Majesty wasn’t the sort to indulge in excess.
But perhaps it was the spring air, the warmer weather—his body clearly ran hotter now than it had in the winter. From the moment he’d gotten dressed that morning, he’d been in this hazy, half-awake, half-distracted state. And now, sitting across from His Highness reading memorials, well—let’s just say the tension beneath his robes was obvious.
The weather had turned soft, the roses in the courtyard were ready to bloom, and the vase held golden forsythia His Highness had ordered from outside the palace. Today, with no meetings scheduled, His Highness was dressed in a light pink spring robe, sprawled over the low table, carefully inscribing his Dragon Petition.
The Dragon Petition was a sacred rite where imperial nobility carved their deepest wishes onto golden plaques—one to be placed in a mountain cave for the blessing of the heavens, one buried in the earth for the protection of the land, and one cast into a river to ward off misfortune.
Emperors had always done this—some to pray for peace, others to ask for longevity.
It was clear His Highness’s petition, offered on His Majesty’s birthday, was meant to wish him health and safety. The wording said as much: “May your years be as long as pine and cypress, untouched by disaster or sickness, protected by true spirits.” He’d even inscribed His Majesty’s birth name and date.
His Highness had prepared for this for half a month, bathing and fasting with absolute sincerity.
And honestly, His Majesty couldn’t help but enjoy this kind of care.
It was like being cherished and tended to, wrapped in His Highness’s love.
As a husband, he’d always believed it was his role to protect His Highness, to shield him from harm, to handle everything for him. But now, the roles were reversed—and for a man as proud and strong as he was, he found he actually liked it.
Turns out, no matter man or woman, everyone longs to be loved. He’d only thought he didn’t need it because he’d never had it before.
When His Highness finished writing, he handed it to Eunuch Qin, who immediately took it away to have it engraved on the golden plaques.
Tomorrow, His Highness would go up Mount Yongchang to offer the petition himself.
Double Fortune brought over a towel so His Highness could wash his hands before heading back to the imperial study.
It was the final day of fasting, and His Highness was determined to stay pure in mind and body.
He couldn’t risk staying too long with His Majesty now—felt like just meeting his gaze might spark flames between them.
Half a month really was a long time.
He was struggling to endure it himself.
But whenever he remembered that all this was for praying for His Majesty’s health and long life, he felt like no matter how long he had to bear it, it was worth it.
This heartfelt devotion—His Majesty wouldn’t dream of ruining it. He just looked forward to tomorrow, when perhaps His Highness could finally stop worrying so much about his health.
That night, as before, they slept apart.
They slept apart, but not in separate rooms—just two beds placed side by side, maybe half a meter apart.
The weather was warming, that perfect time of year when everything feels comfortable. The window was half open, letting in a cool spring breeze.
Maybe they were both a little restless. Fu Ye tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.
But even so, he didn’t dare face Fu Huang.
It was kind of embarrassing to admit, but these past couple nights, whenever he was alone with Fu Huang at night, his chest felt tight and… well, obvious.
He absolutely couldn’t let everything fall apart at the final hurdle.
Fu Huang looked at his back and said, “After tomorrow… maybe we can ease up on some of these rules?”
Fu Ye said, “Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”
Fu Huang said, “I really think I’m as healthy as any other man now.”
“How many hours did you sleep last night?”
“Last night? I woke up because I was too hard.”
Fu Ye: “…”
He turned his body away, feeling like this conversation was getting dangerously out of hand.
Fu Huang didn’t press it further.
But after a while, he said again, “Yesterday I saw Zhang Gui—he said people are starting to think I’ve been sidelined by you.”
The moment Fu Ye heard that, he turned around at once.
Fu Huang had indeed filled out a little lately, his face no longer as thin as before. In the faint candlelight, he looked strikingly handsome. Fu Ye took one look, and his heart started pounding.
“The empire’s just been unified, but there are still remnants of the old Liang forces itching for trouble. If rumors like that spread, it could become a real danger.”
Fu Ye immediately sat up. “They’re saying that?”
Fu Huang said, “That’s why we need to let them see that their emperor is young and vigorous… and you need to understand that too.”
Fu Ye said, “I want you to take at least another year to rest.”
“Honestly, I sleep better when I’m holding you.”
Fu Ye said, “… I don’t.”
Fu Huang lowered his voice. “Every time I hold you, you start wanting it, don’t you?”
Fu Ye’s face flushed red, and he lay back down, pulling the covers over himself.
Everyone thought he was making Fu Huang abstain for the sake of Fu Huang’s health.
But actually… that wasn’t it.
It was because now that Fu Ye was taking on so many of Fu Huang’s duties, after they spent a night together, Fu Ye would need two or three days just to recover.
It was him who couldn’t handle it!
But he still wanted to help shoulder the burdens of the empire.
Fu Huang said, “So in the end, the one who really needs building up isn’t me. Greedy and useless.”
Fu Ye pulled the blanket over his ears.
After a while, he heard Fu Huang’s voice, a little softer: “I’ll stay with you till we’re old. Growing old together—that’s not just your wish. I want it even more. So I’m careful, I know what I’m doing. You don’t need to be afraid anymore.”
All the longing burning through Fu Ye felt like it was melted away by the warmth of that love.
Sometimes Fu Huang still got headaches. The imperial physicians said the same thing: after all these years, he’d hurt his body too deeply—no matter how well he took care of himself now, it wasn’t something that could be healed overnight.
Xiao Ai said too, that for Fu Huang to recover as much as he had already was no small thing.
If only he’d come to him sooner.
If only he’d been there when Fu Huang was sixteen.
But he’d come too late. There hadn’t been an earlier chance to meet him. Life rarely gave you true perfection. Maybe it was because of these regrets that they could have something lasting. But heaven had let them meet, had let him fall in love—how could he not be greedy, wanting everything to be perfect?
He didn’t want Fu Huang to suffer, not even a little.
Fu Huang said again, “These past couple of days, I’ve been feeling a little on edge.”
Fu Ye said, “Shut up.”
So Fu Huang fell silent.
Not long after, Fu Ye threw off the covers and sat up. “Ah, this is driving me crazy—I can’t sleep anyway.”
Fu Huang laughed out loud. That rare, carefree kind of laugh. Fu Ye picked up a soft pillow and threw it at him.
But somehow, all the heaviness in his heart was gone.
He loved hearing Fu Huang laugh.
The emperor’s birthday, like his origins, had always been a forbidden topic. So he’d never celebrated it; the palace had no such custom.
But this year, with the dragon talisman Fu Ye had prepared to offer the gods for the emperor’s sake, everyone at court knew about it. So at dawn, Qin the chief eunuch led all the palace eunuchs and maids to gather in the main courtyard of Qingyuan Palace to offer birthday wishes to Fu Huang.
After all, their emperor was a ruler the whole world admired. There were plenty who revered him. And this year, his birthday happened to fall on the Flower Festival. The capital itself was decked out—every household had spring flowers at its doors, decorating the city in honor of His Majesty’s 27th birthday.
Inside the screen, the two of them dressed. Outside, Qin and the others waited to serve them. Fu Ye heard the bustling noise from beyond and bent his head to tie Fu Huang’s sash, feeling their warm breath mingling.
Fu Huang looked serious enough, but his body wasn’t so proper. He wrapped his arm around Fu Ye’s waist and said, “We’re going up the mountain today—take a sedan chair, don’t wear yourself out climbing.”
Fu Ye gave his robe a light pat. Fu Huang drew in a sharp breath and hooked an arm around his neck, trying to kiss him. Fu Ye hurriedly pleaded, pushing his chin away with one hand. “At least let me finish offering the talisman first.”
Fu Huang’s lips brushed against his palm.
The spring sunshine outside was bright and warm. Fu Ye looked at Fu Huang, thinking he was radiant, strikingly handsome—you couldn’t see even the faintest trace of illness on him.
Fu Huang let him go, dressed in his splendid robes, and stepped out from behind the screen to accept the court’s formal bows.
When they stepped outside, the spring light was dazzling. Fu Ye turned to look at Fu Huang and saw a man in his prime, full of power and dignity, still serious as ever.
But he really did look so much younger than before.
Fu Ye thought, no matter what, Fu Huang’s heart had been completely healed by him.
And, he thought with pride, you’ve gotta make your name early—his husband had pacified the world and was still only twenty-seven.
What a legend. He couldn’t help but feel proud.
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