Imperial Weight Chapter 19 (Part 1)
Translated by Sylver (ko-fi)
Chapter 19.1
The adjutant was caught off guard when he was grabbed over, initially confused, but then he had a sudden realization: their commander was truly someone who didn't understand romance. Never mind family letters—even the memorials sent to greet the Young Emperor, this lord was always stingy with words, forever maintaining that bland, water-like demeanor.
The adjutant didn't say much more. With a grin, he pushed and shoved at the surrounding soldiers to make room, joining the others in urging Xingyi to come sit with them. This group all knew that Xingyi had just gotten married, taking home a courtesan who was supposedly a top performer. They usually held their commander in high esteem, and merely assumed that indulging in beauty was human nature—they didn't know he had actually brought a man into his household. Now that the war was nearly over, everyone was very relaxed. Seeing him come over, they couldn't help but tease him one after another, the jeering growing louder and louder.
Xingyi coughed a few times.
The group knew when to stop. After finishing their teasing, they surrounded Xingyi, eagerly offering suggestions one by one. "A family letter, naturally you write whatever you want. As the saying goes, a family letter is worth ten thousand gold—reporting your safety is most important."
Xingyi listened earnestly.
The adjutant added. "Report good news but not bad, same principle. But when I first did this, after a while, when I got home my wife would still complain, saying that in my letters I only ever talked about being safe, safe, safe—why didn't I ever think about her and the children?" With that, everyone burst into laughter again, making this usually shameless adjutant actually blush a little.
The adjutant muttered. "Women are such trouble, always needing to be coaxed. No sense at all—seeing me not come home even once in several years, she always suspects I have someone else out here. When I go home, I have to buy her pearl hairpins and jewelry, only then will she not bring up old grievances. Been with me all these years, still acts like a little girl, so affected."
Someone else pointed at him laughing. "Look at you laughing—the wrinkles on your face are showing. You act so disgusted, but watch out or I'll go tell sister-in-law on you!"
The adjutant couldn't hide his laughter and scampered off to roughhouse with the person who just spoke, making the scene lively again. Everyone chattered away, starting to discuss their own wives and children. Those already married excitedly showed off their families one by one, saying how gentle and virtuous their wives were, how old their children were, whether they were naughty or not. Those not yet married were both bashful and eager to talk about the ones they fancied, describing how beautiful and charming the people they admired were.
The group immediately split into two camps: one side saying you should marry someone virtuous, appearance being secondary; the other insisting on finding someone good-looking, most importantly someone you like yourself. The debate grew more heated, until finally a few veteran soldiers ended this topic that had no standard answer: "Where are there perfect young ladies for us to choose from? For us soldiers, if we can still return in one piece, with a wife, children, and a warm bed—that's already the greatest blessing. As for those girls with clean family backgrounds, stunning looks, proficient in music, chess, calligraphy and painting, able to manage both the hall and the kitchen—those all come from wealthy families. Even His Majesty's imperial consorts are probably no more than this—if not the palace ladies, then they're wives of high-ranking officials."
Everyone listened and agreed deeply. Then, as if remembering something, they all looked toward Xingyi—when it came to imperial relatives, the most precious person in the world was none other than Xingyi. He and the current Emperor shared the same father and mother; the only difference seemed to be the luck when choosing the heir back then. If he wanted to select a bride, as long as he wished it, even the seven celestial maidens would rush to marry him.
But no one had the guts to ask him: how is your esteemed lady?
The group of soldiers unanimously changed the topic.
When night came, they lit a bonfire indoors, singing loud, rustic mountain songs, sprinkling salt and cumin on roasted venison, drinking down strong liquor mixed with deer blood in large gulps. When the time came, Xingyi got up and returned to his own tent, crossing through the howling mountain wind, letting the bitter cold of the snowy mountains pull him from the warm shackles.
He ground the ink that had become somewhat frozen and sluggish, thinking as he ground about what he'd just heard.
The standard for the world's perfect lady—he already knew what the result was. So then, what about his own lady?
His little phoenix, what about him?
Needless to say about his appearance—it was first-rate, "one glance worth a thousand gold" was no empty name. When he smiled it was like a spring breeze passing by, ten thousand stars shining in his eyes.
His personality? According to the madame at the pleasure house, this child had been obedient and sensible since childhood, with a passionate and straightforward nature. Though his circumstances were beyond his control, he had never willingly degraded himself. He was completely unlike people from the world of romance—for such a child to grow up in a pleasure house was like a sunflower blooming beside a ditch overgrown with weeds; he was clean and pure.
He could properly arrange his collar, and could also nimbly make him a life-protecting jade pendant. Being able to become a top performer, he naturally understood propriety, was knowledgeable about music—indeed able to manage both the hall and the kitchen.
Only his birth was not good, but Xingyi didn't mind. This absurd marriage of his carried some element of deception to begin with. Precisely because Little Phoenix was a pearl covered in dust, a courtesan, he was able to eliminate some suspicion with the Young Emperor—he already owed him a debt, so he had even less reason to criticize him harshly.
Looking at it this way, his lady was the best in the world—there should be no objections to that.
Xingyi spread out the letter paper and picked up his brush to write a family letter.
To report his safety, he first wrote the character "安" (safe). Then he paused for a while, thinking carefully.
Xingyi lowered his eyes, his fingers gently brushing over the crystal hanging at his collarbone. Suddenly he remembered how Little Phoenix had stood on tiptoe to tie the red cord for him before he left. They had been so close, their breaths touching, gentle and warm. The person before him had his reflection in their eyes, and that reflection seemed gentler than usual, not quite like him.
Whether this thing he'd given him actually worked, Xingyi didn't know, but he had indeed turned danger into safety in the recent battles, and the process had been unexpectedly smooth. He thought for a moment, remembering what the old adjutant had said earlier, and slowly wrote a line, then sealed it and instructed his attendant to send it back.
"As if meeting in person:
Safe.
The talisman my lady gave me, I treasure dearly in my heart. As for fortune—speaking it aloud will break it, so I say nothing and have no taboos. I will return soon, do not worry."
He remembered Little Phoenix's blurted words before he left—"I'm very lucky"—thinking that although it might count as superstition, it was still better to remind that loose-lipped little thing. But after sending it out, he felt this was perhaps too childish, and wanted to retrieve it to write again.
However, when he walked out, he looked up to see that the messenger had already released a flock of pigeons, as if the fallen snow had regathered and reversed course, scattering into the vast sky, rustling down feathery specks of white, carrying his first family letter of this lifetime toward his beloved.
—---
Little Phoenix had finally been outmaneuvered by Xingyi. With a mournful face, he complained about Xingyi the whole way, until finally Xingyi caught him, held him in his palm and kneaded and squeezed him for a long time, pinching this little round ball until it chirped wildly. In the end, knowing he was in the wrong, he had no choice but to admit defeat.
Xingyi asked him, "Do you recognize your mistake?"
Little Phoenix obediently crouched in his palm and sincerely admitted, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said you were bad at raising birds just because I was in a bad mood, and I shouldn't have cried so easily—that's very embarrassing."
Xingyi continued asking, "And what about you pretending to be pitiful to manipulate me before?"
Little Phoenix righteously criticized, "About that—I already apologized when you caught me last time. You shouldn't bring up old matters. That makes you seem very petty. Besides, I also let you manipulate me back."
"Oh." Xingyi nodded. "So you recognize your mistake, but you'll dare do it again next time, is that it?"
Little Phoenix looked at him without speaking, but his attitude was very brazen.
Xingyi rubbed his temples and let it go.
Little Phoenix's insistence on losing weight caught Xingyi's attention. This little fat bird's appetite had recovered, but his exercise volume had simultaneously increased to an embarrassing degree. He spent almost all day outside flitting about, and when he came back, he'd just flop on top of Xingyi's head and start snoring away.
After enduring five consecutive days without finding an opportunity to squeeze the phoenix, Xingyi finally decided to have a good talk with this little fat bird. For this purpose, he specially cancelled morning court, catching Little Phoenix before he could slip out and giving him a thorough rubbing. "Wait a moment."
Little Phoenix looked down at his feathers that had been rubbed incredibly fluffy and protested, "You've messed up my feathers. This styling is not suitable for going out to exercise."
Xingyi pinched his belly. "Then don't go. From what I can see, your weight loss results aren't very ideal anyway. Might as well not bother."
Little Phoenix said, "It's only been a few days. Weight loss takes a long time to show results—you don't understand."
He flapped his wings, preparing to fly out of Xingyi's hands, but unexpectedly Xingyi gripped him even tighter. Xingyi closed his eyes and casually pulled up the blanket, burying this little fat bird under it, then rolled over and hugged both bird and blanket together.
He murmured, "Keep me company, won't you?"
Little Phoenix: "......"
This little round ball struggled to burrow out from the blanket, revealing a fluffy little head, somewhat flattered, "Of course that's fine, but I—"
"Then don't talk. Keep me company this morning, be good." In the blink of an eye, Xingyi even brought out the drowsiness in his words, his voice slightly hoarse, sounding low.
His state wasn't very good this morning—he'd woken with a start. Xingyi was always dreamless, but last night he'd rarely had a dream. In the dream, the sky was filled with fiery clouds, smoke everywhere, with the sound of weapons clashing. But he could also confirm that it wasn't the ancient battlefield where he'd once spilled his blood, but rather some place in the mortal realm. It was a mortal's battlefield, neither earth-shattering nor magnificent and brutal. He sensed from his feelings that it wasn't a prolonged war.
He saw death everywhere, and himself standing there covered in blood, holding a translucent crystal in his hand. That crystal contained a wisp of brilliant reddish-gold. Apart from the sound of his blood surging, all things were silent.
When Little Phoenix looked up again, he found that Xingyi had already fallen asleep. The morning light shone through the snow-white window paper, falling on the brows and eyes of the person before him, warm and brilliant.
He waddled over and spread his little wings, blocking the light for Xingyi, staying completely still as he kept blocking it. After a moment, he sighed softly and said quietly, "You won't even marry me, yet you say such things—it makes me a little sad."
He thought Xingyi was asleep, but after a moment, Xingyi's voice sounded again, "What difference does it make, Little Phoenix?"
His voice sounded somewhat tired. "Both are staying by my side—a pet and an empress, what's the difference?"
Little Phoenix said, "There is a difference."
After a while, Little Phoenix tilted his head thinking, then changed his answer somewhat uncertainly, "But if you want it to be the same, then... then it can be the same, I suppose..."
But Xingyi didn't hear these words. He was fast asleep.
