From CEO to Concubine

Hindsight was 20/20, even hindsight that came mere moments after. He could count the number of mistakes that he made in that conversation, each one more deadly than the last. Years of trying to read others at the negotiation table had honed his habit of overanalysing every line of dialogue, every behavioural cue. And now, back in Zheshan Palace and sitting in a tub of rapidly cooling bathwater that Xiao De had stubbornly insisted on lugging up bucket after bucket, Yan Zheyun was unable to stop ruminating on his interaction with the emperor.

He shouldn't have brought up the stupid tangyuan. The capital city of the Ye Dynasty was situated in the North and since they ate dumplings for the solstice, tangyuan was not a custom here. If Yan Zheyun were the emperor, he would be wondering why this new concubine was bringing it up. Considering that this new concubine was also a survivor from a family whose execution the emperor had ordered, it wasn't hard to conclude that this filial son might be making a subtle jibe. Tangyuan. A homophone for 'tuanyuan', which meant reunion. Did the emperor think that Yan Zheyun was blaming him for the loss of his family?

He was mourning but he didn't mean to fault the emperor for it. Up to that point, Yan Zheyun had managed to maintain firm control over the rollercoaster of emotions he'd undergone in that dead plum garden. But when the emperor had mentioned dumplings, the dam that Yan Zheyun had been using the contain the floodgate of grievances he'd bottled up inside broke.

The most unfair part about it was that he hadn't even been able to throw a tantrum like a petulant teenager. The first and foremost requirement of doing so was that there had to be someone in the world who cherished him enough to let him get away with that sort of behaviour. Once upon a time, Yan Zheyun had had such a right but he had been too sensible, too invested in being the best oldest son and brother to his family that he'd never utilised it, not even once.

Now that he wanted to, he didn't even have the chance.

…fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut and submerged himself slowly into the water, hoping that it would wash away these maudlin thoughts. This time of the year, these feelings of yearning for his family were only going to get worse. Not long after the solstice, it was going to be New Year's Eve with its custom of a reunion dinner. Having to live through these festivals felt like picking at a scab, the wound underneath it still raw and ready to bleed again at the slightest provocation.

Muffled footsteps alerted him to someone's approach and he could tell from its flighty, rushed gait that it was his servant. Xiao De might appear too childish to be reliable at the best of times but tonight he had proven his loyalty and Yan Zheyun was grateful for it.

He frowned and sat up immediately, shattering the pensive mood he'd been in just seconds ago.

"Stop running around," he ordered out of concern. He had forced Xiao De to strip out of his wet trousers the second they reached Zheshan Palace and had bundled the flustered young eunuch up in the only decent set of blankets they owned, which was the ones from Yan Zheyun's bed. Xiao De's protests had weakened after Yan Zheyun had sat him down and looked at his knees, both of which were an angry purplish red. But luckily, there was no severe swelling or pain in the area yet.

Yan Zheyun was no medical expert but he had enough layman knowledge from his old hobby of mountain climbing that he how to watch out for the signs and symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia.

Not that he could explain these concepts to Xiao De.

Although Xiao De had been adamant about drawing a bath up for Yan Zheyun, using the excuse that if Yan Zheyun fell ill and died then him losing both his legs was going to be the last of his worries, Yan Zheyun had compromised by making him take some of that warm water to rewarm the affected parts of his skin.

Xiao De had finally caved but had refused to do so in the warmer inner chamber, perhaps due to the inherent inferiority he couldn't shake off, which came from his role of servitude. Yan Zheyun hadn't pressed the issue after he'd realised that doing so was only going to make Xiao De uncomfortable. Hence, he didn't stop Xiao De from collecting a small basin of bathwater and shuffling back out to the main seating area.

The rewarming process was normally a painful one. Yan Zheyun could only think, with a good dose of exasperation, kudos to Xiao De. Not only was he moving about, but he was also exuberant about it.

"Little Master!" Xiao De all but shouted, dashing back in with the blanket still draped hilariously around his shoulders. "Look what was delivered!"

Yan Zheyun raised an eyebrow when Xiao De held up a small, exquisite bowl. Yan Zheyun could tell that it was of a quality that he, a lowly First-class Attendant, had no right to use. Compared to the lavishly painted porcelain dishware that he had seen during that fourth prince's feast, this simple white ceramic bowl appeared unremarkable. Indeed, to Yan Zheyun, it looked like any other non-glazed bowl that he could have bought by the dozens in the kitchenware section of the department store.

But that was exactly why it was priceless in this era. How many people in history could afford such advanced ceramics? The bowl had the lustre of a pearl and a completely smooth surface against the skin of his palm.

But Yan Zheyun took one glance at its contents and all hypotheses about its antique value flew out of his mind.

"Where did you get this?" he asked shakily. His fingers tightened subconsciously against the sides of the bowl.

Xiao De handed him a spoon with a big smile. "Careful, Little Master, don't spill it into the bathwater!"

Don't spill it. Yan Zheyun glanced down. Three dainty coloured balls made of glutinous rice flour sat in the middle of the clear soup inside, one pink, one green, and one in traditional white, like little lotus flowers floating in a pond. He could smell the aroma of sweet rice wine and osmanthus and knew that the tangyuan would be sweet (1). His mother, who had been a northerner before marrying his father and moving down south, had infected their entire family with her preference for sweet tangyuan.

His eyes, although still dry, started to prickle.

"A eunuch from the imperial buttery sent this over," Xiao De explained. Perhaps it was the shared harrowing experience of getting caught sneaking around the gardens by the owner of the gardens himself, but some of the ingrained submissiveness seemed to have left Xiao De's demeanour. He was still respectful in his mannerisms but his speech had become bolder and he leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, eyes bright with hope. "Little Master, do you think that His Majesty…might…you know?"

Yan Zheyun's hand trembled a little as he fished one tangyuan out of the bowl. He was going to save the white one for last because it looked the most like the ones his mother made. "No," he pretended. "I don't know. What am I supposed to think?"

Despite growing up in this cutthroat environment, Xiao De wasn't one of the eunuchs trained to handle the bedchamber affairs of the emperor. He also was too young when he'd entered the imperial city and didn't have the chance to experience the matters of men and women. Thus, although he knew what he was insinuating, he was too bashful to say it out loud.

"Y-you know, that His Majesty might, that is…Little Master is attractive and—and His Majesty has eyes…"

The tangyuan nearly went down the wrong pipe. He coughed and chewed thoroughly before swallowing. The filling inside was sesame too, a coincidence that struck too close to home.

"You're thinking too much," he said evenly. "His Majesty is…kind. That is all."

Xiao De made a protesting noise and started to explain in earnest why he thought that his little master had a real shot at morphing from a common sparrow to a majestic phoenix. Noting that Xiao De still had the presence of mind to keep his tone low, Yan Zheyun let him rattle on as he enjoyed his dessert and considered the situation.

Unlike Xiao De, he didn't think it was attraction that motivated the emperor to bestow a bowl of tangyuan upon him. Yan Zheyun's caution had lapsed just now and if the emperor had chosen to take offence for some perceived slight, the delicacy he was currently enjoying could very well be laced with poison.

But he continued eating it anyway despite his reservations. But his gut feeling told him that it was safe. The emperor didn't need to resort to such underhanded tactics to get rid of him. He could have Yan Zheyun put to death tonight and tomorrow the morning court would kowtow to his 'wisdom'.

It tasted of home and he couldn't bear to throw it out.

——————————

Cao Mingbao's position in the imperial city had been secured for so long, not only because the emperor had an emotional attachment to this attendant who had served him since childhood but also because he was sensitive to the directions that the wind blew.

After sending one of his disciples to the imperial buttery with a set of instructions that shocked even him, he went back to report to the emperor, who was lounging in a private side chamber that was used solely for him to relax in. There was a comfortable chaise for him to recline on, with a small but exquisite goldfish pool for him to admire when he tired of reading.

The emperor was indulging in a rare moment of indolence tonight but it could be forgiven. In acknowledgement of the solstice, His Majesty had extended an invite to his remaining brothers but only the ninth prince had shown up. The other princes had valid excuses, of course, such as their own family gatherings, but it hurt for Cao Mingbao to see only two figures at a table set for more.

After the meal, the emperor had dismissed his brother but a current of restlessness had thrummed through him despite, culminating in him going out for a walk. It was Cao Mingbao's duty to escort him without questions but he didn't need to ask to know where the emperor was headed.

The same place he went to every year on this same night, waiting for someone who couldn't show up anymore.

But this time, someone else did. Cao Mingbao had been certain that the emperor had forgotten about First-class Attendant Yan by now. After that stunning spectacle at the fourth prince's birthday feast, the emperor had made no mention of him and Cao Mingbao had dismissed the newest addition as unimportant.

After passing on word that the only bowl of tangyuan that was prepared by the imperial buttery today should go to Zheshan Palace instead, Cao Mingbao wasn't sure anymore.

"Your Majesty," he said, after assuring the emperor that his instructions had been carried out. "Would you like another one prepared for you?"

"No need." The emperor didn't look up from the scroll he was perusing. It was an anthology of poetry, Cao Mingbao noted. A section of the Book of Odes…was it because he couldn't express his feelings for that person any other way? Cao Mingbao recalled a figure in teal seated by a round window in the eastern palace, fingers twirling his calligraphy brush absently as flecks of ink splattered onto the table, his sleeves, his cheek. He was always absentminded whenever he composed a new song…

"Cao Mingbao."

Cao Mingbao fed more red charcoal into the brazier before going over.

"Your Majesty, this old servant is present."

The emperor tilted his head back against the cushions. "What do you think of Yan Yun?"

"…" This was a loaded question. Any servant in the palace would be terrified to be on the receiving end of it and Cao Mingbao was no exception. He was just better at hiding his nervousness and choosing his words carefully.

He was also good at reading the emperor's mood. He might not know what the emperor was thinking but he could make an educated guess on how the emperor felt about something.

Or someone.

"This old servant thinks…Little Master Yan has his charms."

The emperor's lips quirked up but his dark eyes remained unreadable. "That's undeniable."

Cao Mingbao reached out and accepted a fur stole from a younger eunuch who had carried it in from another room. He tried placing it around the emperor's shoulders but the emperor held up a hand to stop him.

"This sovereign isn't cold." After a moment's pause, he added. "Have it delivered to Zheshan Palace."

"…as Your Majesty commands." Come tomorrow, the entire inner palace was going to be in an uproar. Cao Mingbao wasn't certain what the emperor was trying to achieve with this but it wasn't his place to ask.

With one final hum, the emperor dismissed his servants, including his head eunuch. Cao Mingbao was about to bow out and leave him to his ruminating when he heard his name being called again.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

The emperor closed his eyes. "Tomorrow, send the brocade guard to Lin Nan. This sovereign wants to know if the Yan Family ever had its roots in the south."