The door creaked open abruptly.
With a squeak, light flooded in, forcing both occupants to squint slightly.
Xiao Hanjin stood at the threshold, his gaze darkening several shades as it met their synchronized stares.
He knew full well their relationship, yet seeing them entwined now stirred an indescribable frustration in his chest. It took every ounce of restraint not to stride over and pull them apart.
The air hung silent for a long moment.
Empress Ronghua broke the stillness first, releasing Fenghua with a smile. “What’s wrong? Something up?”
Xiao Hanjin fixed his eyes on her, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Dinner.”
“Can’t it be brought here?”
“You arrived unexpectedly. The imperial kitchen didn’t prepare your share.”
“…”
Empress Ronghua clearly didn’t buy such nonsense. She glanced at Fenghua, their eyes briefly meeting, then walked toward the door. “He just took medicine—he can’t eat anything too greasy. Have the imperial study make some porridge for him.”
Xiao Hanjin’s gaze dimmed. “And you? Porridge too?”
She tilted her head, giving him an amused look. “I’ll eat with you, of course.”
The man’s shadowed eyes brightened instantly.
For Xiao Hanjin, this meal was an unexpected gift. He’d only hoped to dine with Empress Ronghua, resigned to tolerating an extra man. Now, that man had stepped aside, granting them a rare moment alone.
Even if alone, she wouldn’t fall for him again.
Still, if it were him, he’d never let her dine alone with any man.
Tentatively, he placed a piece of fish in her bowl. “You’ve gotten thinner. Eat more.”
Empress Ronghua smiled. “Thank you.”
His chopsticks paused.
She didn’t reject his gesture. Her smile was polite, her manners impeccable—flawless.
Yet that flawless demeanor inexplicably choked him. His worst fear had been her tossing out the food he’d offered.
But a simple “thank you” stung far worse.
“Ronghua, don’t be so formal with me.”
She blinked, her clear eyes innocent and guileless. “But we’re nothing to each other now. Isn’t formality expected?”
His deep, focused gaze locked onto her face, voice low. “My one-sided love for you—that’s our connection.”
Her eyes faltered, meeting his.
As their gazes held, her smile faded. She stood abruptly. “Looks like you’re not letting me finish this meal in peace.”
The moment she turned, he grabbed her wrist.
Xiao Hanjin stared at her impassive profile, a sudden pang twisting his heart. “Ronghua, where were you these four years?”
She replied flatly, “I’m full. Let go.”
His grip tightened instinctively. “That Fenghua—how did you meet him?”
“Xiao Hanjin.”
“Do you love him?”
“…”
She finally glanced at him, her red lips parting, expressionless. “If you don’t want me leaving the palace right now, let go. Don’t make me say it a third time.”
His eyes darkened, as if thick ink had spilled over, heavy and smoldering.
She’d been right all along, he thought.
He’d wronged her before, and the deeper he realized it, the more he knew he should never have fallen for her again.
It was a path to ruin.
Yet here he was, sunk in the abyss—and he had no desire to climb out.
