Chapter 107: Archery
It was still early morning. As the sunlight spilled over them, the intricate threads of woven gold on their robes shimmered with a soft brilliance.
Zhao Yiyi buried her face against his broad chest. Feeling the vibration in his ribcage as he spoke, she clung to his lapels and slowly closed her eyes.
Having lost her sense of sight for a time, her hearing had become exceptionally keen. Even with her head lowered, she could hear the gentle, soothing murmur by her ear: “I mean it. I’ll spend a lifetime making it up to you, alright?”
A sudden wave of heat surged into her eyes. Her nose prickled with a sharp sting, and she tightened her grip on his robes, tilting her face up to look at him. “You said it yourself.”
A few stray tears clung to her enchanting, hibiscus-like face. Her hair had become tousled from rubbing against him, leaving her looking aggrieved yet timid. It was a sight that could only inspire heartache.
Gu Zhen’s heart tightened. He reached out, intending to wipe away her tears.
The moment his fingertips brushed against a teardrop, a searing heat surged through him. He lowered his gaze, gently brushing the moisture from her cheeks, and whispered, “Yes, I said it myself. It is I who wants to spend a lifetime making amends.”
Rather than comforting her, his words caused her tears to fall even faster.
Gu Zhen sighed softly. He leaned down to kiss away the tear stains at the corners of her eyes, his voice clear and gentle. “Tell me, what am I to do with you?”
The forbidden palace was silent, save for the soft whistling of the breeze.
Under the morning light, their figures cast a long, singular shadow—two forms entwined as one. Gu Zhen’s expression was steeped in tenderness as he lowered his head, lightly patting her frail, soft shoulders while coaxing her in a low voice.
By the end, he wasn’t even sure what he was saying. He simply offered promise after promise, vow after vow.
Their beginning may have been flawed, but they still had decades of life ahead of them. He was willing to accompany her through the rest of their days, willing to spend every remaining moment repaying her.
No matter how much he pampered or compensated her, those three years were gone forever. The grievances she had suffered during that time could not simply be erased.
It was a long while before Zhao Yiyi’s sobbing finally subsided. Although her vision was still blurred by tears, she could see that Gu Zhen’s robes had been crumpled into a mess by her hands, stained with her tears.
He had always been a fastidious man. Even a stray leaf on his leather boots would usually draw a frown.
Zhao Yiyi hesitated and retreated a step. She withdrew her delicate, jade-like hands, her fingertips curling instinctively as she looked at him with a trace of helplessness.
Gu Zhen’s heart softened. He reached out to pull her back into his arms, asking softly, “What is it?”
Zhao Yiyi lowered her head and whispered, “Your clothes…”
Gu Zhen followed her gaze down to his ruined robes and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Now that you’ve turned my clothes into this state, have you thought about how you’ll compensate me?”
As he tilted her chin up, Zhao Yiyi’s face flushed a deep crimson. She turned her head away, unwilling to respond.
She thought of escaping first, hoping to hide for a while, but Gu Zhen wasn’t about to let her off so easily.
Under the bright sunlight, she was suddenly lifted off the ground and placed onto the windowsill. The ledge was narrow, carrying the constant risk of a fall. Consequently, her slender arms could only cling tightly to Gu Zhen, her hands hooking around his neck to steady herself.
Zhao Yiyi struggled briefly, her face flushing as she said, “Put me down.”
Gu Zhen didn’t speak; he only looked down at her. His powerful arms remained firmly around her waist.
Despite her attempts to look away, her eyes eventually met his phoenix-like gaze. Gu Zhen suddenly leaned in, whispering a hoarse “close your eyes” before pressing a burning kiss against her eyelids.
The sensation against her eyelashes was tingly and soft. Zhao Yiyi’s heart trembled, and she tried to lean back. But there was nothing behind her, and for a fleeting second, the terrifying sensation of falling flashed across her face.
Fortunately, Gu Zhen held her securely in his embrace, pulling her back from the edge.
“How could you be like this?” Zhao Yiyi bit her lip, her eyes brimming with grievance and a hint of suppressed anger. She looked thoroughly displeased.
Gu Zhen smiled and leaned in again. This time, however, the kiss did not land on her eyes, but on the corner of her mouth.
Unlike what she expected, it was a light, fluttering touch—gone as soon as it landed. Yet, in that instant, her heart skipped a beat.
Zhao Yiyi breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled away, but before she could regain her composure, another burning kiss descended. This time, it was a firm, deep kiss squarely on her lips.
The intensity of the kiss was enough to turn her entire face bright red. Even if she wanted to retreat, there was nowhere to go. She could only tilt her head back, forced to meet the kiss. As their lips intertwined and his scent overwhelmed her, her body gradually went limp.
Sensing a hand wandering near her waist, Zhao Yiyi’s body suddenly stiffened. She pressed against his hand and leaned back, knitting her brows as she panted, “There are people outside.”
In truth, there was no one right outside the window. However, servants passed through the front courtyard from time to time. If a palace maid headed toward the back or came to water the flowers, they would surely be seen.
Zhao Yiyi was so embarrassed she could hardly speak. She squeezed his hand, her voice sweet and pleading: “Put me down first. Not here.”
Gu Zhen’s ears felt numb just listening to that voice. He lowered his head and lifted her from the windowsill, placing her down onto the soft, expensive purple rug patterned with scrolling lotuses.
The window remained open. Zhao Yiyi watched him, her heart in her throat.
However, Gu Zhen merely leaned down and gently straightened her lapels, smoothing out every wrinkle. He untied the slightly loose ribbon of her pleated skirt and tied it back into a perfect shamrock knot.
After tucking back her cloud-like, messy dark hair, he finally said, “You said you couldn’t get up this morning and wanted to sleep, but you were interrupted by her. Are you still tired? Shall I carry you to the couch for a nap?”
Zhao Yiyi stood there dazed, clutching her lapels. She felt something was strange—and likely not in a good way.
Before she could react, she was swept up in Gu Zhen’s arms as he strode toward the inner room. The study was divided into three sections; the innermost room contained a small daybed where Zhao Yiyi occasionally rested when she was too lazy to return to the bedchamber.
The daybed wasn’t actually small—it was roughly the size of a standard bed—but compared to the grand bed in the main palace, it felt cramped.
Gu Zhen looked at the bed with a trace of disdain. He had considered staying in the study, but on a bed this size, he feared he wouldn’t be able to enjoy himself fully. He frowned as he laid Zhao Yiyi down, removed her shoes and socks, and covered her with a thin quilt.
Zhao Yiyi stared at him blankly, her mind failing to keep up. Then, she watched as he sat down beside her.
He just sat there, watching her quietly.
“There is a competition at the palace drilling grounds tomorrow. Come with me to watch?” Gu Zhen asked softly, as if fearing a louder voice might startle her.
Zhao Yiyi asked, “At what time?”
“At the hour of Chen,” Gu Zhen replied.
She gazed at him for a long time. It wasn’t until Gu Zhen leaned in as if to pull her into his arms again that Zhao Yiyi nodded with a flushed face. “Alright.”
“Go to sleep.” Gu Zhen simply held her hand, his voice softening. “I will stay here with you.”
Though they had been married for so long, they hadn’t actually spent much time together. At the very least, they rarely shared meals. They spent more time together at night.
Living together like this was something that had only begun this year, and had only become frequent recently.
Zhao Yiyi tossed and turned, unable to find sleep.
Gu Zhen, always a light sleeper, knew she hadn’t slept well the night before. Worried she would feel unwell if she continued like this, he whispered, “If Yiyi can’t sleep, is it because you want to do something else?”
Who wanted to do anything with him?
Zhao Yiyi shot him a fierce glare, pulled her hand away with force, and rolled over inside the quilt, leaving him with nothing but the sight of her dark hair scattered across the pillow.
Gu Zhen didn’t mind at all. His gaze remained calm and fixed on the bed, watching her curl into a ball, watching her roll over in her sleep, and listening to her muddled dream-talk. Suddenly, he thought that if things stayed like this forever, it would be quite wonderful.
The competition at the drilling grounds the next day was primarily to select the Emperor’s personal guards and honorary guards from the Imperial Army. They were to be tested in archery, swordsmanship, spearmanship, and even polo.
The participants were restricted by age and family background, and even their appearances had been screened. Such occasions were highly favored by young noblewomen.
As early as ten days ago, people had been begging Zhao Duanduan to take them along. Zhao Duanduan was, naturally, interested herself. A few years ago, back when Zhao Yiyi was still the Crown Princess, she had tagged along once.
“Don’t let people recognize you,” Zhao Yiyi warned. She couldn’t refuse her sister’s soft pleas, and since it was a crowded event, nothing much could go wrong. Still, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
It wasn’t proper to go openly, so all the women who wished to watch dressed in men’s attire. They wore round-collared robes, leather belts, and headwraps. Only after a thorough disguise did they dare to head out.
As the Empress, even though no one would dare criticize her for such a small matter, Zhao Yiyi chose a moon-white gauze skirt paired with a pale yellow short jacket. It was elegant but not overly eye-catching.
In the past, when selecting guards, Gu Zhen would come but usually only stayed for a few glances. Today, however, he remained seated at the head of the stands, never leaving.
The crowd and the participants below felt the tension. Gu Zhen’s hand never let go of his teacup; the brim-full tea trembled, nearly spilling over.
Wu Mao, standing to the side, was counting the minutes. He was anxious to send someone to check when a palace servant finally entered to report: “Your Majesty, Her Majesty the Empress has arrived.”
Gu Zhen’s heart eased. The tension left his hand as he set down the teacup, a smile playing on his lips.
Wu Mao smiled along. “Does Your Majesty wish to…”
Before he could finish, Gu Zhen suddenly rose and strode toward the center of the drilling grounds. He casually took a longbow from a man who had just finished his turn, drew a feathered arrow, nocked it, aimed, and released—all in one fluid motion.
With the whistling sound of the arrow cutting through the air, the white-feathered shaft split an existing arrow and pinned itself into the very center of the target.
Gu Zhen glanced back. The moment he caught sight of a moon-white figure, the corners of his lips curved upward, and a smile reached his eyes.
Zhao Yiyi happened to enter just in time to witness this scene. She saw him standing there with effortless grace, expertly drawing his bow to split the mark.
She instinctively remembered asking him last night why she had never seen his archery skills, given how superb he was at pitch-pot.
Well, today she had seen it.
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