The snow fell heavier and heavier, accumulating knee-deep where few people walked.
Deng Ying walked back to the Inner Eastern Depot office, where the Ceremonial Office had already sent someone to deliver mourning clothes.
Deng Ying lit a candle and sat behind his desk to rest for a moment before removing his shoes and bending down to roll up his trouser legs.
His frost-bitten ankle was almost too painful to touch. Deng Ying endured the pain as he stood up, intending to move the charcoal fire closer to his feet when he heard Yi Lang’s voice at the door.
“Director.”
Deng Ying started, looking up to see Yi Lang standing in the doorway, his face red from the cold, his whole body trembling.
He hurriedly moved to add charcoal to the brazier, but then remembered the formal greetings hadn’t been performed, and found himself suddenly awkward, not knowing what to do.
“You stand there and perform your greeting, I’ll add the charcoal.”
Yang Wan’s voice came from behind Yi Lang. She walked in rubbing her hands, speaking while closing the door, and turned to go toward the charcoal basket.
Only then did Deng Ying kneel to perform the greeting, his shoes not yet put on, the old wound at his ankle exposed outside his mourning robes.
Yi Lang looked at Deng Ying’s injury and asked Yang Wan, “Why won’t the Director’s foot injury heal?”
Yang Wan picked up the charcoal basket and said, “Because the Director never listens.”
Deng Ying hurriedly responded, “Your Highness, forgive this servant’s impropriety.”
Yi Lang shook his head, “I came suddenly, the Director has committed no fault. Rise.”
Deng Ying stood up, supporting himself against the ground.
Yang Wan moved the brazier to his feet and said softly, “Let me take a look, has it swollen again from the cold?”
Deng Ying said, “His Highness is present.”
Yang Wan smiled slightly, “All right then, put your shoes on.”
Then she said to Yi Lang, “Your Highness, come warm your hands.”
Yi Lang obediently crouched by the fire basin, joining Yang Wan in warming themselves.
Only then did Deng Ying bend down to put on his shoes, lowering his head to ask Yang Wan, “Why did you bring His Highness here?”
Yang Wan watched the firelight and said, “I didn’t bring His Highness here, he wanted to see you himself.”
Hearing this, Deng Ying turned sideways, “Does Your Highness have questions for this servant?”
Yi Lang gripped his hands but didn’t speak.
Yang Wan turned her head and said, “What’s wrong? You come here but don’t speak.”
“I’m thinking… whether I should ask.”
Yang Wan was about to speak when she heard Deng Ying say, “Your Highness, please ask. This servant is listening.”
Yi Lang nodded and stood up, “Director, I want to know, what happens to those who lose in factional struggles?”
“Death and disgrace.”
Yi Lang raised his head, “Will Minister White and Uncle suffer this fate too?”
Deng Ying nodded, “Yes.”
Yi Lang lowered his eyes, “I am still young and don’t know how to bear the responsibility for all the empire’s subjects, but before I grow up, I cannot let subjects die for my sake. Director, if Father Emperor names my second brother as successor, please tell the Ministers and Uncle that I am willing to leave the capital. Guarding peace in one region is also guarding the realm; I will not disappoint them either.”
After hearing these words, Deng Ying prostrated himself, performing a full kowtow to Yi Lang.
Yi Lang looked down at him and said, “Director, why do you do this?”
Deng Ying straightened up, “Does Your Highness trust this minister?”
He had switched to using “minister” as his form of address, causing Yang Wan to start slightly.
She raised her head to look at Deng Ying. His hand was pressed against the ground, fingers slightly curved, and unlike before, he didn’t lower his head before Yi Lang, but rather gazed at him calmly.
Yang Wan knew that Deng Ying, who had been castrated in his twenties, had never in his life demanded recognition of his status. This unconscious use of “minister” was his greatest secret aspiration. And hearing this word, Yang Wan suddenly understood why, in history, he had eventually walked to the execution platform to be dismembered.
With a scholar’s heart making a vow, unwavering for life.
He certainly didn’t want to live as a servant. Perhaps it was the grinding of various political forces that pushed him onto the stage, but the one who stepped up was himself.
Thinking this, Yang Wan felt both sorrow and warmth in her heart.
She realized she hadn’t tried to hold him back, to keep him from ascending. Instead, she began to accept the historical inevitability of Deng Ying, though this didn’t mean she had to compromise with this era.
As a historian who had crossed through time, after experiencing division, struggle, and integration… Yang Wan was grateful that she had respected Deng Ying’s life while not abandoning Yang Wan’s life.
“I trust the Director.”
Yi Lang nodded in response to Deng Ying.
Yang Wan rested her chin in her hand and added with a smile, “I trust you too.”
Then she adjusted Yi Lang’s fur cloak, “After seeing the Director, does Your Highness feel better?”
“Yes.”
“Then this servant will return with you.”
“All right.”