Lin Wanyi stepped forward obediently. Seeing the emperor reclining so casually, she realized there was no way to massage his head without removing her shoes and climbing onto the couch.
She could only follow suit.
As her soft hand touched the emperor's temples, his tense body gradually relaxed. Neither spoke—a quiet understanding passed between them. One concentrated on giving the massage, the other fully immersed in receiving it.
Bathed in the afternoon sunlight, Lin Wanyi stole another glance at the emperor.
He looked more worn than he had just a few days ago.
Was it due to court affairs? Between his brows was a faint crease—etched from frequent frowning. Without thinking, her fingers lightly smoothed his brow from both sides, attempting to ease the tension there.
The emperor found the motion pleasant and did not stop her. Instead, he let himself enjoy it in silence.
When one is occupied, time moves faster.
When she arrived, the sun had been high. In the blink of an eye, it was already nearing the Shen hour.
Lin Wanyi's hands were numb, but the emperor—relaxed and enjoying himself—occasionally directed her: first his head, then his shoulders, then his back. She even feared she'd be asked to massage his legs next.
The emperor was basking in ease, but Lin Wanyi was silently suffering.
So this was the price of "accompanying" the emperor.
By the time she left, her hands might be completely useless.
Sensing the diminishing strength in her touch, the emperor finally spoke, voice low and lazy:
"What time is it?"
Lin Wanyi replied softly, "Your Majesty, it is nearly 3 p.m."
Upon hearing this, Emperor Yuwenhong opened his eyes and called toward the outside, his voice laced with impatience:
"Dong Yuzhong!"
The eunuch immediately stepped in with a bow.
"Your Majesty, this servant is here!"
"Has the Fourth Uncle arrived?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. The Fourth Prince is waiting for you."
The emperor had arranged to watch an opera with his Fourth Uncle, and there were other matters as well—he couldn't delay further.
Just as he was about to leave, he paused, suddenly remembering Lin Wanyi still seated on the couch. He turned back and said casually:
"Go wait in the warm room. If you need anything, summon someone. We'll dine together later."
With that, he left in a hurry.
Lin Wanyi slumped on the couch, feeling both exasperated and amused.
He didn't even give her the chance to say "I obey your order" before vanishing like the wind.
Ah, the emperor—so many ranks above her. What could she do?
Not long after, a eunuch entered. An "old acquaintance."
"Your servant Qiu Ming greets the young lady. May you be in good health."
"Eunuch Qiu, please rise. Could you tell me how to get to the warm room?"
"This servant will take you there immediately."
They exited the study and headed down the eastern corridor. As they passed the inner hall—where she had once spent the night—Lin Wanyi assumed that was their destination.
To her surprise, Qiu Ming led her further left, stopping at a row of rooms roofed with glazed tiles and supported by red lacquered columns. He gestured for her to enter.
As soon as she stepped in, her eyes caught a plaque: Wen Guju.
What did that mean?
Qiu Ming smiled and explained:
"This is the warm room where His Majesty rests. Please sit, my lady. I'll have tea, fruit, and pastries brought immediately."
"Sleeping place?"
Then what of the inner hall where she had stayed before?
Her confusion must have shown, because Qiu Ming answered before she asked.
"The inner hall is where ladies attend to His Majesty. The warm room is where His Majesty rests when alone. To be invited here is an immense honor. In all my years of service, I've seen only a few ladies granted this privilege."
Lin Wanyi's smile turned stiff. She didn't know whether to be pleased or unsettled.
According to Qiu Ming, this was favor—but not exclusive. Others had been here before.
Had she really earned this dinner invitation through her "efforts"?
The price had been steep. She raised her hand and saw her fingers flushed red, her arms sore and aching. Even someone as pampered as Chunqi wouldn't have been able to endure such an ordeal for over an hour, let alone herself.
"Thank you, Eunuch Qiu, for your explanation. Could I trouble you for some warm water? I'd like to freshen up."
"Of course, my lady. Please rest, and I'll send someone immediately."
After he left, Lin Wanyi looked around.
This place was clearly different from the inner hall.
It was warm, yes—but ordinary and unassuming in a way that soothed the heart.
The room wasn't large, just slightly bigger than the annex where she had once slept. On the left was a sleeping chamber, partitioned by a lacquered screen painted with golden lanterns. To the right stood a small nanmu desk, carved exquisitely, topped with an inkstone, a jade pen holder, and a brush.
A sheet of rice paper lay on the surface, words half-written.
Afraid it might contain state secrets, Lin Wanyi dared not look too closely.
Instead, her eyes were drawn to a celadon vase under the window—its shape elegant, its glaze soft and cool. Everything here spoke of refined taste.
Most notably, there were few traces of bright yellow.
That imperial color, though glorious, brought a certain pressure. In its presence, one had to remember one's place and act accordingly.
Here, without it, she could finally breathe.
She was suddenly glad she hadn't worn her golden robes. They would have clashed terribly in this room.
Just then, the palace maids arrived, each bearing trays.
"We weren't sure what my lady prefers, so we prepared Jianxichun."
The tea leaves were ground to dust, whisked until frothy.
Jianxichun—spring tribute tea from the Jianxi region of Fujian. Of all the tribute teas, Beiyuan Gongcha was the most prestigious. Outside the palace, only a few royal residences could hope to taste it.
Lin Wanyi hadn't even seen tea served in Ronghe Hall—yet here she was, sipping from a celadon cup.
It chased away much of her fatigue.
The tea was accompanied by mung bean cakes and chestnut pastries. Though delicate and sweet, Lin Wanyi thought Chunqi's milk peach blossom cake would have made a better match.
The tension in her shoulders melted slightly as she sipped. She almost forgot she still had to wait for dinner. Her stomach should have been empty, but the tea gave her a temporary sense of fullness.
Tea doesn't relieve hunger—but it does comfort the spirit.
By the time the emperor returned, night had fallen.
She had fallen asleep, head resting on her folded arms upon the table.
Her hair spilled like black silk over her shoulders, her skin pale as snow with a faint rosy flush. Her lips were slightly parted, and her long lashes cast delicate shadows under her eyes.
When Emperor Yuwenhong entered and saw her like this, his heart trembled.