Shen Wei never wanted to be an Emperor, but on the anniversary of the peace deal he discovers that Kunlun might be alive.
Part 1 of the The Leaves Of Autumn Are Memories series
So...there was a silly bet between myself and another writer, on whether it was possible to take a character and explore their point of view as a third person. The character could not be one of the main cast. Out of everyone, I chose Butler Wu.
--- Slightly too late to say this, but this world is not based on a particular era or period drama. It certainly does not follow history! Its a blend of wuxia and Guardian.
----
There was a new portrait of Lord Kunlun above the Emperor's bed.
No one by unspoken rule, acknowledged the portraits or at least not in front of Shen Wei, his loyalists or the more tight-lipped of the Palace staff.
No one knew how many there were either. There were statues of the man and no one begrudged the memorial to a hero. Kunlun was in poetry and song about the war, and everyone was aware to some extent that he had been friends with the Emperor. Blood brothers. That was a righteous, glorious to thing to have in their culture.
...Perhaps even zhiji. Although that was spoken about less. There was something...nerve-wracking about assuming such a thing...about the Emperor. Not that Butler Wu thought it was likely, Emperor Shen would deny such a thing. He would likely take it as an extreme compliment or simple fact.
But to have a portrait over the bed? Another one in his private study? That was certainly more than friendship.
From his quiet position in the middle of the sitting room, not far from the Emperor's open bedchamber, Butler Wu's eyes traced over the bold features of the man standing at a cliff edge.
The former portrait had hung there for six months, enough time for him to stop blinking at the image of a man standing beneath a tree, the boughs heavy with fresh spring leaves and stunning red flowers. The leaves seemed to be almost caressing his thick black hair with its many braids and his smile was... too seductive to be decent. His eyes...here Wu would always look away.
The expression in those eyes were for a lover.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He just hoped it was their Emperor held in the heart of the man, Wu knew was Chieftain Kunlun.
This portrait was different and he was struggling to adapt to it. When it changed and why His Majesty decided to replace one clearly beloved portrait for another, was an enduring mystery.
How many portraits the king had and who painted them was an enduring mystery.
Butler Wu suspected that the king himself painted them and that was...Butler Wu shook his head. Not his place to think about or question.
The eyes were harder in this one, like black jade staring out over the mountain in the distance. His dark hair seemed to blend seamlessly into the cloak around his shoulders and the armor that protected his chest. A tunic of dark blue embroidered with tribal patterns famed among the Shangbei peoples met the dry weeds of the ground. A dao was strapped to his back along with a quiver of arrows.
