Eunuch Feng waved his whisk lightly, glanced at Ye Meixi who was frozen in the hot spring pool, snorted in his heart, and followed Feng Aotian towards Mu Hanjin’s Qinghui Pavilion.
Qinghui Pavilion is a courtyard specially built by Feng Autian for Mu Hanjin. Outside the courtyard, there are pink walls surrounding it, with green willows hanging down. In the courtyard, paths are intertwined, and adorned with rocks and stones. In the east wing are hundreds of green bamboo; on the west wall are two green pines; under the south eaves, there are more than ten pots of autumn chrysanthemums, waiting to bloom. A gap suddenly opened under the back wall, with a clear spring flowing, pouring into the wall, winding around the steps and corners of the house to the front courtyard, curling out from under the bamboo, the entire courtyard exuding elegance and delicacy.
At this moment, Lan Jingshu is playing the flute while Mu Hanjin is painting. Right now, they are like canaries trapped in a cage, using poetry and prose to pass the time, to comfort their withering hearts, to dispel the oppression, struggle, and pain in their hearts, to barely feel a trace of nostalgia and worth living in this world.
When Feng Autian arrived, he stopped the eunuch guarding the courtyard from reporting and instead followed the faint and quiet sound of the flute to the east.
The green bamboo swayed with the wind. Mu Hanjin wore a snow-white silk robe, tied with a long white silk tassel around his waist, with a piece of white jade tied on top, covered with a light smoke Luo chiffon. His black hair was tied with a white silk ribbon, his long eyebrows reached his temples, his slender and gentle eyes, straight and delicate nose, like jade fingers holding a white jade flute. The clear breeze swayed, and the flute sound was low and melancholic, carrying an unresolved melancholy, just like his elegant and dust-free temperament, untainted by any impurities.
Under the green pine trees, Lan Jingshu wore a light blue brocade robe, with a gentle and refined temperament, holding a paintbrush to depict the scene in front of him. With every movement, he exuded the same tranquility as the green pines behind him.
Feng Autian approached without a word, walking to Lan Jingshu’s side, appreciating his artwork. It was a picture of autumn chrysanthemums, with exquisite craftsmanship.
As the flute stopped, he had just finished his brushwork, a gentle smile curling up at the corner of his mouth as he admired his painting. Just as he was about to lift his eyes to look at Mu Hanjin under the bamboo shadows in the east, he turned his gaze and saw Feng Autian attentively admiring the painting in his hand.
His body froze for a moment, and the calm demeanor he had just exhibited was gone. He hurriedly knelt, his knees barely touching the ground before his arm was gently lifted by Feng Autian. He raised his gaze, meeting her cold eyes with a seemingly smiling yet icy gaze. His heart sank. Now, neither kneeling nor standing seemed appropriate. He could only bow deeply, “This humble servant greets Your Highness.”
“You may rise.” Feng Autian released his arm and then shifted her gaze back to the autumn chrysanthemum painting before her.
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Lan Jingshu appeared visibly uneasy, pondering why the regent would come to their courtyard in broad daylight. Whenever the regent favored them, it was always at night, when they were sent to her chambers. Why had she come to Qinghui Pavilion today? It truly puzzled him.
Mu Hanjin put away the jade flute and stepped forward, only then noticing Feng Autian standing with her hands behind her back under the green pines. A hint of disgust and resentment flashed across his elegant face, returning to his usual cold demeanor as he approached slowly. “This humble servant pays respects to Your Highness.”
Feng Autian raised her gaze to meet Mu Hanjin’s. His flute music just now was too melancholic, as if expressing endless sorrow, faintly tinged with sadness.
He was indeed exceptionally handsome, especially with his faint demeanor, calm and composed yet with a hint of stubbornness and arrogance, enough to make Feng Autian expend effort on him.
“Come here.” Feng Autian’s tone was chilly. Such an elegant person naturally needed to be properly trained. However, someone who was so proud and indifferent to fame and fortune, yet imprisoned and humiliated in the regent’s mansion, must have already become a thorn in the side of the previous Feng Autian, forever unable to be removed.
However, she didn’t want to remove this thorn. Not only did she not want to remove it, but she also wanted it to penetrate deeper, turning this thorn into a loyal dagger for her, inserted into his heart. However, looking at his appearance, there was a resemblance between him and Mu Han, both having that kind of stubborn personality, but unfortunately, because of this, they were both restrained by her.
Mu Hanjin had a reflexive aversion to Feng Autian’s touch. He remembered that every time she tortured him, he would grit his teeth and silently endure. However, the more he endured, the more it seemed to provoke her evil and tyrannical heart. Every time, he would be tortured to the point where he couldn’t get out of bed, lying there for five whole days before he could regain some strength.
Reluctantly and indifferently, his face devoid of any expression of disgust, he took step by step forward until he stood in front of Feng Autian. Unexpectedly, she pulled him into her embrace. There was a hint of tenderness in her eyes, a softness he couldn’t understand. With a slight smile on her lips, she whispered softly, “I came when I heard your flute music. But your flute seems to carry a strong sense of sorrow. Do you miss me?”
Mu Hanjin was somewhat stunned. The first thought that came to his mind was, what was the regent up to again? In the past, she wouldn’t tease him like this, let alone say such frivolous words. Every time she spoke, it was either extremely offensive or vulgar and coarse.
Feng Autian was well aware of her predecessor’s vulgar behavior. In her eyes, apart from the deceased former emperor, all other men were mere playthings. Only by thoroughly tormenting them until they were barely recognizable would she derive a sense of satisfaction and joy.
Feng Autian couldn’t erase the perverse actions of her predecessor. However, she could add some color to these perverse actions. For example, with Mu Hanjin before her, she couldn’t afford to be overly violent with him.
Her hand clasped Mu Hanjin’s waist. Compared to the delicate waist of Yemei Xi, his waist was relatively fragile, but the touch was still excellent. Her icy fingers, separated by the silk fabric, sent tingles down his spine. Her red lips were now against his ear, spraying a blush onto his fair earlobe, which was quite enticing. “Why aren’t you answering me?”
