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The emperor stepped out of the palace to enjoy a peaceful walk through the city's streets. As always, his guards moved discreetly in the shadows nearby, while security personnel leapt across the rooftops to ensure his safety. The emperor walked slowly. The path ahead was quiet and empty. He observed the abandoned stalls standing by the roadside, wondering what they looked like during the day. How fascinating it must be to stroll among other people, simply blending into the crowd.
His thoughts wandered uneasily around the recent events in the capital. Then, faint and calm footsteps reached his ears. He looked around. From behind him, someone unfamiliar was approaching. He saw his guards ready to block the person's path, but he signaled them away, waving them off. He was curious—who else in the entire capital would dare to walk these desolate streets at this hour?
A woman appeared, carrying a lantern in one hand and a large basket in the other. She approached the emperor, matching her steps to his. For a moment, they walked in silence along the main street. The woman lit their way through the darkness with her lantern.
“The night is a lonely time. Do you have somewhere, or someone, to spend it with?”
She asked after a while. The emperor considered this odd question. It was true that he had a place to spend the night. He had a home he could return to at any moment—there wasn’t a soul in the world who would dare deny him access to his palace. Yet... for some reason, he denied it.
The woman, though now that he looked more closely, illuminated by the warm, soft light of her lantern, he realized she was just a young girl. The girl looked at him with a sad expression and smiled at him reassuringly.
“Come with me. In my home, there is always room for a lonely soul.”
The emperor didn’t know why, but he believed her words. He followed her without even knowing her name, her family, or where she was leading him. For all he knew, it could have been a trap. She might have been leading him straight to the gates of hell. Yet the emperor followed her, with an unfamiliar feeling of hope stirring in his heart.
They entered a house through a side door—one he didn’t recognize. There was no nameplate hanging above it. All around the interior, colorful lanterns were hung, making it seem as though the house were celebrating the Lantern Festival.
The girl led him into a large hall with several small tables. A few servants greeted their mistress with smiles and cheerful comments about the day. The emperor watched from the sidelines. The girl, however, didn’t forget about him. She led him to one of the tables, not too big, situated in the middle but slightly to the side, seating him against the wall. This position gave him a clear view of the entire room and the comfort of a protected back. Somehow, he felt that the girl was not only giving him space to observe but also ensuring his comfort and safety.
For the first time in many years, the emperor smiled as the girl walked away with a smile of her own.
“Hua Zhi, jiejie!”
A child’s joyful cry rang out, drawing the emperor’s gaze back from the table where he had been lost in thought. For a moment, he had focused on the table, hoping it held the key to the mysteries of this unknown girl. It was a fine table, made of beautiful oak wood, though it bore many marks of use. This was a table that had witnessed countless meals over the years—a table that spoke of a family dining together.
Servants began placing identical dishes filled with steaming hot food on the tables. People started filling the room. The emperor’s attention, however, remained on the girl who had brought him here.
Hua Zhi—now he knew her name—stood in the doorway, hugging a boy who looked no older than eight or nine, his head barely reaching her chest. The boy eventually looked up at her and smiled.
“How was school, Jin?”
She asked, smoothing his slightly messy hair.
“Mmn!”
The boy responded. The girl laughed.
“Mmn, good or mmn, bad?”
The boy chuckled, his voice soft but surprisingly earnest.
“Good.”
He said after a moment. The girl smiled at him.
“That’s very good. Later, tell Baxi what you learned, and she’ll give you something sweet before bed as a reward.”
She praised him, gently turning him toward his seat. Only then was the emperor able to see the boy’s face. To his great astonishment, he recognized him. The boy, whom Hua Zhi had so casually touched and praised, was his son—the sixth prince—who had gone missing over a month ago. The boy whose quiet search had consumed the palace, with many assuming him dead… What a surprise.
The emperor was about to rise and confront his son when another familiar sound reached his ears—voices, two of them, conversing as they approached the room.
“I told you, after six months, I’d owe you a big gift.”
Said one voice, which the emperor recognized as his second son.
“Yes, though you never said what it would be.”
Replied the second voice, belonging to his nephew, though now it sounded lighter than it had in the emperor's earlier meeting with him, as if a burden had been lifted from his heart.
“Perhaps I should decide what this gift will be, princes gossiping behind my back?”
The girl interjected, inserting herself into their conversation. The emperor expected his son to erupt, summoning his guards to make the woman submit for such disrespect. To his surprise, the second prince and his nephew appeared in his line of sight. The second prince raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Whatever you desire, sister-in-law. Whatever you command.”
He said with a smile—the kind the emperor hadn’t seen on his face, perhaps not since he was as young as the sixth prince was now.
The second prince walked past Hua Zhi and her cousin, taking a seat at a different table, oblivious to the emperor's presence. The room gradually filled with more people—from elderly, experienced women to young, beautiful girls and cheerful, laughing children. What caught the emperor's attention was the striking absence of men among them.
Hua Zhi and BFX stood together near the entrance to the hall, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. They appeared frozen in time, as if the world beyond their small universe no longer existed.
“You little rascals, you don’t always have to wait for me,” said an elderly lady as she entered the hall, supported on one side by an old servant and on the other by a young girl.
“How could we possibly start without you, Grandma?” Hua Zhi replied with a smile. The old lady wagged a finger at her in mock admonishment before taking a seat at one of the tables.
“Why wait for me, when the head of the family is already here?” the elderly woman added, focusing her attention on a little girl sitting beside her. The child clambered onto her lap, asking for hugs.
The emperor observed as life and the meal unfolded at the tables, as conversations sparked and faded, laughter erupted, and maids sat together with their mistresses. It all seemed so strange to him, yet the atmosphere was joyous and inviting.
At the table where the emperor was seated, there was an older man who seemed to be a servant but did not appear uncomfortable about it. The emperor leaned toward him and asked,
“Is it always like this?”
The man chuckled softly.
“It wasn’t before, but since the young miss took charge of the family, things have improved. Life is better now, even without Master Hua.”
The emperor nodded. He recalled that some time ago, he had exiled the men of the Hua family because of an impudent remark from Censor Hua. Well, at least his granddaughter seemed to be an intriguing individual...
The warmth filling the room wasn’t just from the fire keeping it heated. The people gathered there, talking and simply enjoying one another’s company, made the house feel more alive than any other place the emperor had ever visited. The joy and happiness he experienced there were unlike anything he had known before. The palace was a cold place. In the palace, even the faintest smile could lead to death.
But here, among these complete strangers, even the emperor felt at home.
He didn’t even feel anger toward his three children—though one of them was technically his nephew, whom he had raised more than any of his actual sons. He didn’t resent them for betraying him, leaving the palace to share a meal with these people. Instead, he envied them for having experienced this warmth before he had. He envied them for being here.
But then he realized—he had been invited, too. He was here. He could share this meal with them.
Perhaps the future didn’t have to be as bleak as he had imagined. Perhaps everything could still be repaired.
All of this—these treacherous thoughts—because of one girl.
Hua Zhi possessed a power that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. A power to be admired and protected. The emperor could see the future she might create, and he was willing to step aside and simply watch, just to witness what she could build.