The Banished Immortal of the Cold Palace: His Majesty’s Young Master Yun Has Fallen Asleep Again - Chapter 13

At the third quarter of the You hour, inside the Qian’an Hall.

Yan Linyuan set down the final memorial and rubbed his brow.

The hall was brightly lit, casting a sharp profile of his face. Lin Yi silently presented a hot towel. Yan Linyuan took it to wipe his hands and suddenly asked, “What time is it?”

“Replying to Your Majesty, it is the third quarter of the You hour.”

Yan Linyuan tossed the towel back onto the tray and stood up. Lin Yi quickly gestured for the palace attendants to come forward and change his robes. It was not elaborate court attire, but simply a black robe with dark, subtle cloud patterns, layered under a coat lined with black fox fur.

“Is Your Majesty departing for the Lin-hua Palace?” Lin Yi asked in a low voice.

“Yes.” Yan Linyuan responded, his gaze falling upon the deepening dusk outside the hall. “I will go and see.”

The entourage exited the Yangxin Hall, following the palace path toward the Lin-hua Palace. The snow had stopped, but the sky remained gloomy, and the northern wind whipped against their faces like knives.

Wang Shunde led the way, holding a lantern, his footsteps remarkably light as if he feared disturbing something.

The palace servants at the Lin-hua Palace had already received word and were kneeling outside the main hall to await him. Seeing the Imperial carriage from afar, the old nurse in charge hurriedly kowtowed: “Respectfully welcoming Your Majesty.”

Yan Linyuan ignored them and walked straight into the courtyard. His gaze first landed on the newly transplanted white plum tree. The snow on its branches had been cleared, and the flower buds shimmered with a pale, crystalline light in the twilight.

He glanced at it only once before walking toward the main hall.

Wang Sheng was kneeling in the corridor, his head buried extremely low. Hearing the footsteps drawing nearer, his blood ran cold. The fear of death from the day at the Yangxin Hall flooded back, and he gripped his clothes tightly, his fingernails digging into his palms.

Yan Linyuan passed by him without pausing for even a second.

Upon entering the hall, a wave of warmth washed over him. The floor heating was burning fiercely, and the air was filled with a faint scent of plum blossoms. Yan Linyuan scanned the room. The decor was elegant enough, but it lacked any vitality, resembling a house meant for no one.

Wang Shunde was about to announce the arrival, but Yan Linyuan raised a hand to stop him.

He had spotted the person on the soft couch near the window.

Yun Biechen was lying on his side, his ink-black hair splayed across the pillow, covered only by a thin blanket. He was sleeping soundly, one hand resting across his forehead to shield half of his face, revealing only a sharply defined jawline and pale lips.

The candlelight filtered through the screen, casting a hazy glow over him. His white robes seemed to almost dissolve into the warm light, appearing as if they might dissipate at any moment.

Yan Linyuan stood where he was, watching for a long time.

The hall was so silent that the light crackling of the charcoal fire was audible. Wang Shunde and the attending palace servants stood with their heads lowered, not daring to breathe loudly.

Wang Sheng, kneeling outside the door, saw this scene through the door gap; his heart leapt to his throat. How could the Young Master be sleeping so soundly!

After a long while, Yan Linyuan finally stepped forward.

His steps were light, making almost no sound on the thick carpet. He walked to the couch, stopped, and looked down at the person sleeping soundly.

From this angle, he could see Yun Biechen’s entire face. His eyebrows were exquisitely delicate, his nose bridge was straight, and his eyelashes cast shallow shadows under his eyes. His skin was as white as jade, appearing almost translucent in the warm light, to the point where the fine veins on his cheeks were faintly visible.

Yan Linyuan’s gaze fell upon his lips. They were so pale they lacked any hint of blood, yet their shape was perfectly formed.

He suddenly remembered that fleeting glimpse on the plum branch that night.

The moonlight, the white snow, the ink-black hair, and the white robes. It was colder than the scene before him, yet also more within reach.

Yan Linyuan’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

He slowly extended his hand, stopping just before his fingertips could touch Yun Biechen’s cheek. With a distance of one inch, he traced the outline of his face from the brow bone to the bridge of the nose, then to the jawline.

It was as if he were admiring an incomparable jade sculpture.

The person on the couch suddenly moved.

His eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

They were a pair of eyes of extraordinary beauty. The color of his pupils was very light, resembling glass soaked in water under the candlelight; they were clear, without a speck of impurity. The haziness of sleep coated the bottom of his eyes with a layer of mist.

Yun Biechen blinked, his vision slowly focusing on Yan Linyuan’s face.

He watched him for a while without moving or speaking, as the drowsiness in his eyes faded away, bit by bit, until they became clear.

Yan Linyuan withdrew his hand and clasped it behind his back. He did not step away, maintaining his hunched posture as he stared into the eyes of the man on the couch.

“Awake?” he asked, his voice lower than usual.

Yun Biechen did not respond. He braced himself and sat up, the thin blanket sliding off to reveal his thin sleeping robe. His dark hair slid off his shoulders, with a few strands hanging over his chest.

He looked up at Yan Linyuan with a calm gaze. There was no fear and no desire to please; it was as if he were looking at a stranger.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice husky from just waking up.

The atmosphere in the hall suddenly froze.

Wang Shunde broke out into a cold sweat and hurriedly stepped forward, whispering, “Young Master Yun, this is His Majesty. According to the rules, you must kneel to welcome him.”

Yun Biechen gave an “oh” without any particular reaction. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then slowly threw off the blanket and stepped off the couch.

His bare feet landed on the thick carpet; his ankles were slender, and his skin was snow-white. Standing straight, he was half a head shorter than Yan Linyuan and had to slightly tilt his head up to meet his gaze.

“What is His Majesty doing here?” he asked, his tone as flat as if he were asking about the weather.

Yan Linyuan stared into his eyes and suddenly laughed: “Coming to see you.”

“Are you finished seeing?” Yun Biechen said. “If you are finished, you may leave; I still need to sleep.”

The remark was spoken without any courtesy, causing all the palace attendants in the hall to gasp. Wang Sheng, outside the door, felt his legs go weak upon hearing this, wishing he could rush in and cover the Young Master’s mouth.

Yan Linyuan, however, smiled even more deeply. Instead of leaving, he sat on the edge of the couch, his gaze still locked onto Yun Biechen’s face: “Is this how you speak to the Emperor?”

Yun Biechen furrowed his brows as if he found the question tedious: “How else should I speak?”

Yan Linyuan did not answer, merely watching him. His gaze moved from his eyes to his nose bridge, then to his lips, and finally landed on his slightly open collar, where a section of his collarbone was revealed, exquisitely shaped and snow-white.

The gaze was too direct and too focused, as if intending to see through every inch of his skin.

Yun Biechen sensed it. He took half a step back and raised his hand to adjust his collar, a casual action that nevertheless perfectly blocked the line of sight.

“Your Majesty,” he began, his voice returning to its cool, detached tone. “You have been looking at me for a long time.”

“Yes,” Yan Linyuan admitted candidly. “You are very beautiful.”

The words were spoken bluntly, causing the complexions of everyone in the hall to change. Yun Biechen, however, had no reaction other than taking another half step back to increase the distance.

“Are you done looking?” he asked.

“No,” Yan Linyuan answered crisply. “I feel that looking for a lifetime would not be enough.”

Yun Biechen finally frowned. He looked up, carefully examining the person before him, clad in a black robe and coat, with deep, profound features, his eyes hiding some kind of dark, heavy light. He recognized that light; it was the look of a hunter seeing prey.

He suddenly understood something.

The corners of his lips curved upward ever so slightly before returning to normal. He turned and walked to the table, pouring a cup of tea. He did not drink it, but held it in his hand, the warmth from the hot water passing through the porcelain to dispel the chill in his fingertips.

“Your Majesty,” he said, back turned to Yan Linyuan, his voice devoid of emotion. “I do not kneel to others.”

Yan Linyuan raised an eyebrow: “Oh?”

“I do not kneel to heaven, nor to earth, nor to a monarch, nor to kin.” Yun Biechen turned around, his gaze candid. “Must I kneel today?”

He spoke calmly, yet it caused the atmosphere in the hall to solidify once more, as everyone present held their breath.

Yan Linyuan stared at him for a long time before suddenly laughing.

The Emperor’s laughter echoed in the silent hall, making people’s hearts crawl with dread. Once finished laughing, he stopped slowly, the light in his eyes sinking even deeper: “Very well, if you will not kneel, then you will not.”

He stood up and walked to Yun Biechen. The distance between them was very close, close enough to feel each other’s breath.

“But you must remain in the palace,” Yan Linyuan looked down at him, his voice dropping very low. “Remain where I can see you.”

Yun Biechen looked up to meet his gaze, his glass-like pupils reflecting the candlelight. After a long while, he let out a soft “Um.”

It was as if he were agreeing, or perhaps merely prevaricating.

Wang Shunde stepped forward at the right moment, bowing: “Your Majesty, Young Master Yun, dinner has been prepared.”

Yan Linyuan then stepped back half a step, though his gaze remained glued to Yun Biechen: “Let us eat. Eat your meal before you sleep.”