The Eldest Daughter Returns with Power

Chenghuan gripped her grandfather's hand tightly, refusing to let go. The poor little eunuch, meanwhile, knelt trembling before the imperial bed, holding the medicine with trepidation.

I hurried forward, took the medicine bowl, gently blew away the steam, and then tested the temperature with my lips. When it was no longer too hot, I carefully presented it to the Emperor Emeritus. Just then, I heard a hoarse laugh coming from under the quilt: "I've been drinking this bitter medicine for ten years. Spare me today."

I shook my head helplessly and said with a smile, "Father is cheating again." As I spoke, I scooped up a spoonful of medicine and brought it to his lips. However, just as I was about to feed him, Chenghuan suddenly jumped into his grandfather's arms like a startled fawn, muttering, "Grandfather said he would take Huan'er to fly a kite!"

The grandfather's withered hand slowly stroked Chenghuan's hair. A thin layer of tears welled up in his eyes as he said softly, "Let your uncle take you. Your grandfather... cough cough... is going to find your grandmother."

The autumn sunlight streamed through the crimson gauze window, bathing him in its glow and making the silver strands at his temples shimmer. As the third watch gong sounded, a deep and melodious chime suddenly echoed throughout the palace.

I was tucking Cheng Huan in when I suddenly heard hurried footsteps. Immediately afterward, Si Yunchen rushed into the side hall barefoot, his bright yellow dragon robe soaked with night dew, making him look rather disheveled.

He staggered to me, grabbed my wrist, and said in a trembling voice, "Father, he..."

Chenghuan rubbed her sleepy eyes and slowly sat up. Her gaze was somewhat unfocused, as if she wasn't fully awake yet. However, when she saw her father's red-rimmed eyes, she suddenly seemed to understand something and burst into tears.

I quickly pulled my daughter into my arms and gently comforted her. At the same time, the imperial physician was kneeling on the ground, silently putting away the pulse pillow. His voice was low and solemn: "At three-quarters past dusk, the Emperor Emeritus passed away with a smile on his face."

Upon hearing this news, Chenghuan abruptly broke free from my embrace and, like a startled fawn, rushed straight to the emperor's bedside. She stretched out her small hand and shook the emperor's still slightly warm palm, crying out in a tearful voice, "Grandfather, don't sleep! Huan'er has finished reciting the 'National Policy'!"

Seeing this, Si Yunchen hurriedly hugged the crying Chenghuan from behind, afraid that she would hurt herself. I, on the other hand, with trembling hands, carefully unfolded the bright yellow silk. The ink on the will was still wet and clearly visible—"Bury with the Empress Dowager next to the tomb of Princess Jinse."

The autumn wind was bleak, swirling golden ginkgo leaves and relentlessly battering the windowpanes, as if mourning the departure of the Emperor Emeritus. Cheng Huan cried for a long time, finally exhausted. Like a wounded little animal, she curled up in Si Yunchen's arms, sobbing intermittently.

I silently knelt down and tidied the Emperor Emeritus's appearance. When I gently lifted his left hand, I was surprised to find some gold leaf stuck between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, I suddenly realized that this was the sugar figurine that Cheng Huan had secretly crushed before his death.

Seven days had passed in the blink of an eye. The funeral procession slowly passed the imperial mausoleum, the procession solemn and respectful, filled with sorrowful sounds. However, at this moment, Chenghuan suddenly broke free from her wet nurse's hand and ran forward like a gust of wind.

Sixteen-year-old Chenghuan, petite in stature, stumbled towards the newly erected stone tablet, carrying her oversized mourning clothes. Kneeling before the tablet, tears streamed down her face like a burst dam, and she cried out, "Grandfather will be cold here. Can Huan'er bring the tiger-head pillow?"

The autumn wind carried a slight chill, causing the ginkgo leaves to flutter and dance like butterflies, swirling gently as they landed on the white marble altar. I stood there quietly, gazing at the golden leaf, as if time itself had stood still.

I gently bent down and carefully wiped away the fallen leaves in front of the tombstone, afraid of waking the sleeping soul. Si Yunchen stood quietly beside me, holding a tiger-head pillow in his hands, Chenghuan's favorite toy from childhood. He placed the tiger-head pillow upright among the offerings, as if it too could convey our longing for the deceased.

Cheng Huan stood to the side, tears still clinging to her eyes, but upon seeing the tiger-head pillow, she immediately burst into laughter through her tears: "Grandfather, when you see this tiger-head pillow, you'll know that Huan'er has been here!" Her voice was clear and resonant, echoing in the empty mausoleum.

I smiled as I looked at Chenghuan, but an indescribable sadness welled up inside me. I thought of the person who once doted on Chenghuan; he would always hold her in his arms with a gentle smile and tell her all sorts of interesting stories.

“Yun Chen, the Emperor’s uncle, actually did get that last spoonful of medicine in.” I suddenly said, my voice choked with emotion. I looked at the three names side by side on the tombstone, and tears streamed down my face like a burst dam, completely uncontrollable.

Si Yunchen silently reached out and pulled the fox fur coat around me, as if trying to give me some warmth. His fingertips gently wiped away the tears at the corners of my eyes, and he said tenderly, "I know, Father... he has always loved Chenghuan very much."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I remembered that when I was tidying up the study this morning, I found the dowry list that my father had prepared for Chenghuan. The yellowed letter still had clear handwriting, and every stroke revealed my father's love for Chenghuan.

Si Yunchen slowly unfolded the letter, and we looked at its contents together, recalling the bits and pieces related to our father.

On the carriage back to the palace, Chenghuan suddenly excitedly grabbed the window and shouted, "Grandfather!" I looked in the direction she was pointing and saw a goldfish kite floating in the setting sun, its string tangled in a ginkgo tree, swaying in the wind.

The goldfish kite soared freely in the sky, as if telling us something. Watching it, the sadness in my heart was gradually replaced by a warmth. Perhaps this is the comfort our father gave us; though he has left, his love remains with us, like that goldfish kite, never to disappear.

That night, as darkness fell, Chenghuan tiptoed into our bedchamber. Her hair gently brushed against my chin as she murmured, "Mother, can you stay with me tonight? I miss Grandfather. Mother, do you think Grandfather has turned into a star?"

I gently stroked her hair and whispered, "Okay, Mother will stay with Huan'er today. And, my darling, Grandfather has become the brightest star in the sky. He will always protect our Huan'er."

Seeing this, Si Yunchen quickly wrapped my mother and daughter tightly in his arms, then pointed to the brightest star outside the window and said, "Look, that brightest star is the Emperor's grandfather, the slightly smaller one next to it is the Emperor's grandmother, and next to them is your maternal grandmother Jinse, whom you have never met before."

Chenghuan blinked her large, watery eyes, trying hard to make out the stars in the night sky. Accompanied by the sound of the water clock, she finally slowly closed her eyes, resting her head on her tear-soaked clothes, and drifted off to sleep.

Si Yunchen gently wiped away the tears on his daughter's cheeks, then suddenly pulled out a jade pendant with a dragon pattern from under the pillow. His hand trembled slightly, and his voice was choked with emotion: "This was given to me by my father before he passed away. He said..." The Crown Prince took a deep breath and continued, "He said he wanted to leave this jade pendant to the little girl."

After saying that, he carefully placed the jade pendant in Chenghuan's palm.

As dawn broke, the sky gradually turned a pale white. I stood quietly under the eaves, watching the palace servants sweep the fallen ginkgo leaves. The golden leaves danced in the morning light, like butterflies fluttering in the air.

Just then, Chenghuan, slipping on her embroidered shoes, rushed out. Holding up the jade pendant, her face streaked with tears, she said to me, "Mother, look! It's the sugar figurine that Grandfather drew for Huan'er! I miss Grandfather so much."

I looked closely and saw that the morning sun shone on the back of the jade pendant, where a little girl with her hair in two buns was lightly engraved. She was holding a large sugar figurine in her hand and was smiling so hard that her eyes were almost closed.