lovenovelstory Chapter 30 is ultimately a disguise.
Chapter 30 is ultimately a disguise.
Yang Yan calmly shook off his father's hand and bowed slightly towards the direction of the palace gate.
A perfectly timed smile appeared on his face, tinged with weariness and affection.
"Mother is here!"
……
Yun Zhaoxun's residence was named "Guanxin Hall".
The interior furnishings are simple and elegant, unlike the other halls in the Eastern Palace which are resplendent with gold and jade.
A half-person-high gilded Buddha statue stands in the center, and in the incense burner in front of the Buddha, the smoke from three sticks of calming incense rises gently, blending with the faint sandalwood scent in the air.
Yun Zhaoxun was dressed in a moon-white palace gown, without any makeup, and her hair was tied up with a plain silver hairpin.
"My son has been discussing matters in the Daxing Hall for so long; I'm afraid he hasn't even had his morning meal yet?"
Her voice was gentle as she pulled Yang Yan's hand and led him to sit down. The slightly cool touch from her fingertips made the wound on Yang Yan's back tighten reflexively.
He sat down as instructed, his standard kneeling posture pressing his injured buttocks and legs against the hard bones of his ankles, and a sharp pain instantly shot up his spine.
He didn't show it on his face, but simply adjusted his center of gravity slightly to distribute the pressure a little.
"Your son is unfilial, causing your mother worry." His tone was calm, concealing the turmoil of the previous night with his understated words.
Yun Zhaoxun nodded slightly, no longer pressing the matter of the court, and simply pushed a delicate glass bowl from the table in front of him.
In the bowl, the creamy cheese was as white as jade, and it was garnished with several bright red cherries preserved in honey, which were the original owner's favorite "cheese cherries".
"This was specially prepared for them. Use it quickly to tide you over," she said gently, her gaze seemingly casually falling on her son's face.
Yang Yan's memories surged. At sixteen, Yang Yan was completely powerless against this thing and would be overjoyed every time he saw it.
He could not refuse, nor could he show the slightest sign of anything unusual.
"Thank you, Mother." He gladly accepted it, picked up the silver spoon, scooped up a spoonful, and put it in his mouth.
The cool, sweet sensation instantly filled his mouth, the richness of the cheese and the sweetness of the honey surging forth. For him, who was used to modern complex tastes, this pure sweetness was almost cloying.
But his brows relaxed, and he sincerely praised, "The cheese made here by Mother is still the most fragrant and authentic." — This was exactly what the original owner often said.
Yun Zhaoxun's smile deepened as he twirled the bodhi seed prayer beads on his wrist and asked slowly, "Just now outside the palace, I saw your father looking anxious, and he held your hand and spoke to you for a long time. Was it... about last night?"
"Mother, rest assured, His Majesty did not discover what happened last night, and it is no longer a major matter. At present, Father is just worried about the affairs of the country and feels that it is not easy to handle things, so I gave him a few words of advice. As the crown prince, no matter how difficult it is, he should have the magnanimity to take responsibility."
"You have indeed grown up." Yun Zhaoxun sighed softly, but his fingers, which were fiddling with the prayer beads, paused slightly.
Her gaze carefully traced her son's face under the lamplight, and that gentle, watery look made Yang Yan feel an invisible pressure quietly descend upon him.
"Is Yan'er feeling unwell? Why is he different today than usual?"
Yang Yan's back instantly broke out in a fine layer of sweat, the stinging pain from the wound intertwined with the tension in his heart at that moment.
He knew that his biggest flaw was not the deviation in his words and actions, but that the calmness and detachment of an adult soul within this young body could not completely conceal the liveliness and innocence that a boy should have.
He met his mother's probing gaze without panicking. Instead, he slowly lowered his eyes, and a faint, weary smile appeared on his lips, uncharacteristic of his age.
"Mother," he looked up again, his eyes clear yet filled with an unyielding worry, "your son...does not wish to 'grow up' so quickly either."
He lowered his voice, but each word was clear: "But in this Eastern Palace, in this Daxing City, do we... truly have the right to take our time and grow slowly?"
The words "not born of the legitimate wife" were like a silent wedge, needing no explanation, precisely striking the most sensitive and vulnerable spot in Yun Zhaoxun's heart.
Her hand, which was moving the prayer beads, stopped completely.
Yang Yan continued, his tone calm yet heavy: "Last night, in the main hall, I personally witnessed the Duke of Yue displaying his sharp edge and the Duke of Qi walking on thin ice. I also glimpsed the unfathomable imperial heart of my grandfather. At that moment, I truly understood that my mother and I, along with my father, though seemingly living in the highest heavens, are actually standing on the edge of an abyss. One wrong step and we would be doomed forever."
These words were like a silent thunderclap, resounding loudly in Yun Zhaoxun's tranquil heart, a place of Buddhist faith and prayer for peace.
She was not an ignorant woman; precisely because of her status as an illegitimate child, she possessed an almost instinctive sensitivity to danger.
She had always taught her son to be patient and discreet, but she never imagined that the dangers he saw would far exceed the boundaries of her protection.
"So," Yang Yan's voice was tinged with a perfectly timed, youthful choke.
"I dare not be as willful as before, nor dare I take any chances. I fear... I fear that if anything goes wrong, I will no longer be able to be by my mother's side and fulfill my filial duty."
When he got emotional, he made a gesture to stand up and bow, but the movement aggravated his injury, and his face turned pale instantly.
"Don't be so quick!" Upon seeing this, Yun Zhaoxun's doubts were instantly overwhelmed by a surge of maternal tenderness.
Alarm bells rang in Yang Yan's mind. In a flash, instead of dodging, he raised his head, and a strange, almost enlightened, clear light seemed to flash in his eyes.
"Mother," he steadied himself, his voice carrying an unusual calm, "Last night, when I returned home and sat in meditation before the Buddha, I suddenly had a sudden realization."
"The Buddha spoke of eight sufferings in life: birth, old age, sickness, death, separation from loved ones, encountering those one hates, not getting what one desires, and the burning of the five aggregates. In the past, we only took these as scriptures and doctrines, but now we realize that they are our very reality."
He attributed his precociousness and melancholy to a sudden understanding of Buddhist principles and harsh reality.
These words struck at the very core of Yun Zhaoxun's faith.
She believed in Buddhism, karma, and even more so, sudden enlightenment. The serene composure in her son's eyes, as if he had seen through the ways of the world, no longer seemed abrupt or unusual to her, but rather a precocious wisdom forced upon him by fate, a glimmer of wisdom sprouting from the bitter truth of suffering.
She slowly withdrew her outstretched hand, clasped it together in front of her chest, and all the doubt in her eyes vanished, replaced by endless heartache and a trace of indescribable relief.
"My son... he already possesses such wisdom." Her voice trembled slightly, and her eyes reddened. "It was I who was attached to appearances and let my mind wander."
"I understand, son." Yang Yan revealed a deep weariness at the right moment and yawned lightly. "It's just that I was exhausted last night and I really can't hold on any longer."
"Rest now, rest now! Someone, take my son back to rest..." Yun Zhaoxun said nothing more, her heart filled with tenderness. "You should rest well, your mother will come to see you later."
"This is even more exhausting than fighting wits and courage with Yang Jian in the Daxing Palace!" Yang Yan lamented inwardly.
And he was genuinely afraid that these subtle, deep-seated changes would be discovered.
In the eyes of her devout Buddhist mother, who also believed in ghosts and spirits, it would be misinterpreted as "possessed by evil spirits" or "possessed by ghosts and spirits."
In this era, once such a charge is proven, the consequences are even more dire than those of treason. One would likely be summoned by high-ranking monks and Taoist priests to "exorcise" the demons on the spot, and even if one survives, one would be severely injured.
Back in his palace, his tense body suddenly relaxed in an instant, as if all the bones in his body had been removed.
No longer caring about etiquette, he scrambled up from the mat, took off his cumbersome outer robe, and, enduring the tearing pain in his buttocks and legs, lay prone on the wooden couch.
The warm bedding, with its faint scent of calming sandalwood, enveloped him completely.
From responding to the imperial examination at the examination hall to the shocking incident at the Eastern Palace, and then to the all-night discussion at the Daxing Hall... In these nearly ten hours, the immense pressure he endured, both mentally and physically, had already exhausted all his energy.
……
When I woke up again, dusk had already fallen outside the window.
Yang Yan rubbed his throbbing temples; his throat was parched. He propped himself up and called out, "Someone come here."
His voice was hoarse from just waking up.
"My lord is awake?" Yu Wen pushed open the door and came in, carrying a black lacquered tray with a bowl of steaming soup on it.
"The kitchen has been keeping warm the steamed buns for you, sir. Would you like anything else to eat?"