Qi Xiao discovered that he felt differently about Yu'er. He had never mentioned it to anyone. Words left unspoken did not count; things never acted upon were not real. Every day, he attended court as usual, reviewed memorials as usual, caught Yu'er as usual when he flung himself at him, and kissed his forehead when he tilted his face up. Everything he did was the same as before, with every proper boundary still in place. Only late at night, when Yu'er was fast asleep in his arms, would he lower his head and look a little longer at that face. Moonlight seeped through the window paper and fell across the boy's brows and eyes, his lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones, his breathing soft and long. He watched for a long time, then reached out to tuck in the corner of the quilt and closed his eyes.
It was not that he had failed to notice; he merely pretended not to know. His palm kept rubbing, the rhythm and pressure unchanged, steady and even, as though nothing had happened. Only after Yu'er finally fell asleep, his taut body slowly relaxing and his fingers releasing their grip on his nightclothes, did he gently lower him back onto the pillow and cover him with the quilt. He said nothing, merely bringing over dry nightclothes in silence, then silently taking away the ones that had been changed out of.
He was the emperor. There was no shortage of women in the harem, and if he wished, he could turn over a name tablet from the Palace of Attendant Service every day. Purely to satisfy a physical need, he could turn over a tablet, visit one of his consorts, and be finished within the time it took to drink a cup of tea. But