Chapter 395: The Abandoned Consort of the Cold Palace

The night grows deeper, people grow quiet, all sounds cease.

The warm, gentle spring sunshine of the day is blown away by the night wind, leaving a clear, cold serenity.

Ouyang Yan, who had been placed under house arrest earlier for dereliction of duty and angering Du Shanü, now stays alone in the courtyard bedroom, simply waiting for the night to deepen; this feeling of chill is even greater than when he was in front of people.

He had already bathed; all dust and grime had been washed away, and he wore only a plain, loose-fitting nightgown, the fabric soft and unadorned, fitting his form.

Although he is nearing forty, no longer in the bloom of youth, he possesses an exceptionally handsome appearance.

His brow and eyes are clear and handsome, his features well-proportioned and moist, showing no trace of weathered coarseness.

Time has only settled in his brows and eyes a steady aura, leaving no signs of decline; even dressed in simple nightclothes without any adornment, his appearance remains outstanding, his bearing remarkable.

Yet now, atop this outstanding appearance, lies an irrepressible loneliness and desolation.

One room, cold and empty, with no companion, no inquiries; the weariness of years under house arrest, the disappointment of a thwarted career, the loneliness of brothers parted—all these wrap around him in layers.

His figure is thin and solitary, standing alone before the window; the surrounding emptiness and stillness make his silhouette appear ever more lone and cold.

He raised his hand and gently pushed open the wooden window shutter; a cool night breeze slowly flowed into the room, stirring the strands of hair at his temples.

The spring night is clear and cloudless; a lone moon hangs high in the sky, its pure light spilling down, covering the courtyard and corridors.

Ouyang Yan stood silently by the window, raising his gaze to gaze far at the bright moon on the horizon, remaining motionless for a long time.

Under the moon, there is no companion, no idle talk; only the room fills with emptiness, the courtyard with chill.

Loneliness, loneliness.

After all, it merely adds a trace of loneliness.

Ouyang Yan gazed long at the cold moon on the horizon, his mind emptied, his thoughts scattered and drifting, almost losing himself:

"Xiao An......"

"Xiao An......"

I do not know how Xiao An is now.

What good is it to think of these things now?

Xiao An is talented; the only pity is having such an older brother as me.

If it weren't for me holding him back, he would surely have soared high and wide by now, free as a bird in the sky, a fish in the sea.

Thinking of this, Ouyang Yan inevitably felt a hint of bitterness in his heart.

After a long while, he slowly returned to his senses, but just as he was about to withdraw his distant gaze, his eyes unintentionally swept over the shadow beneath the courtyard corridor outside the window, and he sensed something amiss.

The night is deep; there is no light beneath the corridor.

At a glance, it is all stillness, nothing unusual; but upon closer inspection——

Within that shadow lurks a wisp of drifting, intense ink-black, utterly at odds with the surrounding dead silence of the night.

Ouyang Yan's heart gave a slight jolt; he focused intently on that shadow, daring not to miss the slightest movement.

After a moment, the dark shadow beneath the corridor drifted and shifted slowly; a figure emerged from the deep blackness, tall and straight, moving soundlessly, step by step drawing nearer to the window.

The night cast the newcomer's aura as cold, deep, and icy; he made no sound, not even a hint of footfall.

Ouyang Yan's pupils contracted slightly; he snapped fully to attention, and a bone-chilling chill rose in his heart.

At this moment he finally saw clearly: the person who had slowly stepped out of the shadow and was silently approaching the window.......

Who else could it be but Du Shanü?!

Deep in the night, all is still; the moonlight is cold and clear.

She stood silently in the dark shadow beneath the corridor, motionless.

No one knows how long she has stood there, nor how long she has been silently observing.

Ouyang Yan started in alarm, but Du Shanü's posture was casual; even when she spoke, her words were utterly nonchalant, showing no joy at their long-awaited reunion.

She merely asked:

"...... Do you realize you were wrong?"

Power is alluring.

Indeed, power is most alluring.

Even if everyone knows, power is like a leech; once attached, it is destined never to let go.

The one being gnawed cannot even say clearly whether what is being corroded away by the bite is suspicion or genuine affection.

Perhaps a monarch once promised sincerity, but in the face of absolute power, all such promises are pale.

She can treat others however she wishes.

No matter how long she neglects a person, whether she summons someone for no reason, or on a whim listens to someone's tearful confession of faults.......

All of this is the favor she bestows.

She grants it, and others must endure.

This is the taste of power.

It is forever enough to let her look down on everyone from above.

Even if, one day, power should fall, those who still resent her will have to kneel on the ground, weeping and begging for her vermilion brush—far better than being dragged away by palace servants to the cold palace, who knows how many times better.

Ouyang Yan suppressed his trembling, opened the door and knelt to greet the honored guest:

"...... I report to the Sovereign, I know I was wrong."

Long ago, he already knew he was wrong.

But after the day the Sovereign flew into a rage, he never again had the chance to say those words.

Until today......

The Sovereign finally remembered him!

She finally, finally, remembered him again!

Could it be that she at last prepares to give him another chance, to let him serve her?

He actually still has a chance—can he possibly serve her?!

He clearly has the stature of a seven‑foot man, yet when he kneels on the ground he is downright obsequious—far more than merely 'respectful'.

Du Shanü strode past him, crossed the threshold, glanced around the spotless room, found a spot and sat down before speaking.

"Has your younger brother been sending you letters lately?"

Ouyang Yan had thought Du Shanü had finally remembered him and come for his own sake, but hearing this, how could he still not understand?

As he bowed to the ground, his shoulders first slumped involuntarily, then began to tremble imperceptibly.

"... Yes, yes, I sent two letters; I'll go fetch them for you."

Du Shanü had once heard of a concept called the 'abandoned cat effect,' which goes——

If you throw a cat out, after it experiences the fear of abandonment and is then picked up again, it becomes especially docile and obedient.

Applied to people, it means that if someone has been hurt or abandoned once, and the other party returns, they will, for fear of losing them again, become compliant and yielding, sacrificing themselves to keep the relationship.

Ouyang Yan........

He shows quite a few signs of this.

After she appeared tonight, Ouyang Yan was overcome with mixed surprise and joy—sometimes happy, sometimes fearful.

And when she mentioned Ouyang An, Ouyang Yan's face clearly showed 'As I suspected—I knew I wasn't worthy,' and he rushed to find the letters, as if afraid of offending Du Shanü......

Ouyang Yan seems unable to tell whether his feelings toward her ought to be respect, love, hatred, or resentment.

But this is also to be expected.

Throughout history, hardly any subjects have ever been able to sort out their feelings toward their ruler.

Du Shanü withdrew her gaze from his back, casually poured herself a cup of tea, touched her lips, and then realized something was off.

"This tea is cold......"

Doing this really makes it seem like she's come to visit an unfavored consort in the cold palace!

Is this alright?

Is this really alright?

?? coming, coming.