As I walked towards the Hall of Mental Cultivation, I saw that there was light within.
I thought that he would see no one, and that I would likely be stopped by the guards.
However, I passed through unimpeded and reached the entrance of the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
From within the hall, I heard the Emperor's sobs: "A Zhi, A Zhi! Why would you do this to me, why would you do this to me!?"
Had Concubine Yue broken his heart?
I stood at the doorway, and suddenly I didn't want to go in.
But when I saw everything within the hall, my heart still gave a jolt—
Because I saw a painting.
It was a painting of me, the one the Emperor was now facing.
It was me when I was still the Crown Princess.
I remembered that painting.
It was made for me by a folk artist on my birthday in the third year of my time as Crown Princess.
I sat on a bluestone in the East Palace's back garden, a round fan in my hand, looking up at a blooming peach tree with a smile.
He said he liked that painting very much.
He felt that I in the painting, like a peach blossom, brought him joy just by looking at me.
Other men admired the uprightness of pine and cypress, the opulence of peonies, the purity of lotus.
Only he, favored the brilliance and gentleness of peach blossoms.
He had once said that I was peach blossoms.
We had many paintings, some of me alone, and some of him and me together.
I thought he had long since discarded all these paintings.
I never expected that he had kept them.
He stood before the painting, murmuring, "A Zhi, A Zhi. How good it would be if we were still as we were back then? I would rather never have known that you were deceiving me all those years! I would rather you always deceived me, always be that A Zhi who was the most gentle, the most innocent and kind!"
He drained a pot of wine in one gulp.
His eyes then became even more sorrowful: "A Zhi, all these years, I have been waiting. Waiting for you to tell me that we could try again. Waiting for you to tell me that perhaps you would try to be the A Zhi of the past for me. Waiting for you to tell me that you loved me, that you were willing to change for me, that we could change together!"
"However, I did not wait."
In the snowy night, I heard the deepest pain and sorrow in his heart: "A Zhi, why? Why wouldn't you even give me the final bow of your head? Why is even the last dream you are deceiving me in?! A Zhi, do you know? If you hadn't deceived me, I would have been willing to spend all the coming days with you. That day, as long as you told me you loved me, that you wanted to walk with me through the past and the future, I would not have blamed you!"
My heart suddenly began to ache.
I watched him fall to the ground, bitter tears sliding from the corners of his eyes: "A Zhi, do you know? She is very much like you, but she is not you after all. A Zhi, I love you very much, but I cannot ignore your deception and manipulation of me. A Zhi, how good it would be if I were not the Emperor, and if you were not the Empress."
In the very end, he seemed utterly exhausted, his voice growing faint: "A Zhi, if I were not the Emperor, would you still be by my side?"
I understood.
On such a snowy night, seeing this man with whom I had spent half my life in such pain, I finally understood.
I understood why he had treated me this way all these years, I understood that his love for me was far deeper than I had imagined.
And I understood where I had gone wrong.
It wasn't that he hadn't given me a chance, but that I had never been willing to lower my head to see his love for me.
It was I who had failed him.
As I turned to leave, the palace maid beside me asked, "Your Highness, aren't you going in? The Emperor is drunk, and now is a good time. If you take good care of him, the Emperor will surely be grateful to you."
In the past, I would have done as the palace maid suggested.
But at this moment, looking at this maid who had served me for over twenty years, her eyes were full of shrewdness, devoid of innocence.
She seemed... so ugly.
Perhaps I was just as ugly in front of him?
"Tao'er, how many years have you followed me?"
As I walked back, I asked the palace maid.
She replied earnestly, "Twenty-four years, Your Highness. I have been by your side since you were a little girl."
Yes, when I hadn't thought of this, I felt a deep bond of master and servant between us.
But after thinking about it, I couldn't help but wonder if Tao'er was using this to emphasize our connection?
So for all these years, no matter what I said, whether intentionally or unintentionally, would the Emperor think that I had done it on purpose?
The more he cared about me, the less he could tolerate it.
Just like now, as I stared at Tao'er, I suddenly found it unbearable: "Tao'er, go out of the palace. Live a free and unrestrained life, you don't need to serve by my side anymore."
"Your Highness!"
Tao'er cried out in alarm and knelt in the snow: "This servant does not wish to leave Your Highness!"
"Go."
I thought it was time to let go: "Go and find your family. I will give you enough money for your future life. Do not think of me, do not think of the past, go and live the life you should be living!"
I did not turn back to look at Tao'er again. In truth, I was reluctant, but I could not look at her anymore.
I thought he felt the same way towards me.
Only I did not expect that Tao'er would die.
I only learned of this news the next morning. She refused to leave the palace and knelt in the snow all night, freezing to death.
Was I not even as good as Tao'er?
At least she used her death to prove her loyalty to me, not calculation.
But what about me?
I never wanted to prove to him that I had genuine feelings for him, not just calculations.
I think, in this lifetime, I will never be able to explain it clearly.
Life must go on.
But my heart felt as if a piece was missing.
During the New Year festival that year, our daughter was born.
I gave birth to a princess, a princess whom he doted on.
I suddenly felt as if I no longer needed to be so persistent. Looking at his smiling face in my palace, I thought: This is good, this is fine.
In this life, I never knew what I was living for.
So, is this good, is this fine?
—
In the twenty-seventh year of Lin'an, the Empress, who had accompanied the Emperor for over thirty years, passed away at the age of fifty-one.
The Emperor confined himself to the Empress's sleeping quarters and wept for an entire day.
Later, some said that the Emperor had placed a scroll into the Empress's coffin.
It was a painting by a folk artist when the Empress was still the Crown Princess.
The woman, gentle as a peach blossom, smiled brightly in the sun.
That was the most beautiful time for the Emperor and Empress, and it was also the time they could never return to for the rest of their lives.
After the Empress's death, the Emperor never appointed another Empress.
Only two noble consorts accompanied him until their old age.
But some said that the Emperor's heart always yearned for a woman named "A Zhi."
Not the noble consorts, nor the Empress.
But the painful young love he had lost in his life.
— Epilogue: Solitary Phoenix Ascends High, Completed.