Court Healer Hu knelt before Emperor Jianzhang and Empress Lu, his legs trembling violently. His lips quivered as if the sky had fallen, and he told Emperor Jianzhang and Empress Lu in broken phrases that although the Crown Prince’s life had been saved, he would henceforth be unable to move or speak.
Empress Lu fainted on the spot. Emperor Jianzhang’s expression was obscure and unclear. He entered the inner chamber to look at the Crown Prince. The Crown Prince’s mouth was twisted to one side, his eyes askew, drool still flowing from his mouth. Both hands were curled in a bizarre posture, unable to utter a complete sentence. The moment he moved, he would drool.
He stood by the bed for a very, very long time—so long that the Crown Prince had stopped convulsing and only kept his eyes open, tears continuously flowing—before he quickly left the main hall, left the Eastern Palace, and returned all the way to Qingning Palace.
The Empress had just regained consciousness. Princess Rongcheng was attending at her side, tears still on her face. He waved his hand to excuse his daughter from formalities, his tone unusually calm: “You may leave first.” After Princess Rongcheng had gone, he walked to the Empress’s side and sat down gently.
Empress Lu reached out to grasp his arm, her tone panicked and helpless: “Your Majesty, what will become of Ahong in the future? In his current state…”
Emperor Jianzhang’s tone was very calm—even he himself was surprised that he could be calm to such a degree. He looked at Empress Lu for a long time before responding in the same tone: “Isn’t this exactly what you hoped for?”
Empress Lu was so shocked that her hands and feet turned ice cold. She even forgot to move, her pupils contracting slightly. Her hand slipped from Emperor Jianzhang’s arm as she shrank back hastily into the bedding.
Emperor Jianzhang didn’t know how their son had come to this point. He was different from his father—his father had doted on his second empress, Grand Empress Dowager Rongxian, and the Prince Tai whom she bore, never regarding Emperor Jianzhang with any importance.
In his youth, Emperor Jianzhang, as the legitimate son left behind by the original empress, had not lived many good days. Grand Empress Dowager Rongxian’s kindness toward him was arsenic wrapped in honey. He had lived cautiously, never receiving his father’s affection. Therefore, he especially valued his own first son. It was just that in the early period, he had lived too anxiously—busy coping with Grand Empress Dowager Rongxian, busy staying alive—and truly couldn’t spare much attention for his son. And in the later period, after he ascended the throne, he had to purge Prince Tai’s remaining supporters and deal with Grand Empress Dowager Rongxian, remaining busy all the same. But he had established the Crown Prince early on, giving his eldest son his proper status, precisely to set his mind at ease, precisely to distinguish hierarchy early on and avoid future fraternal struggles for power. Yet he hadn’t anticipated that in the end, things would still come to this pass.
He sat beside Empress Lu. The dragon on his chest bared its fangs and brandished its claws, imposing and extraordinary, forming a stark contrast with his current appearance: “The Yangzhou corruption case, Yang Yunyong—I am not unaware of these matters.”
“But I, like you, thought he would exercise restraint.” Emperor Jianzhang lowered his head. Empress Lu couldn’t see his expression clearly at this moment and only felt her heart beating faster and faster. She urgently called out “Your Majesty,” all the blood in her body rushing to her head in an instant.
“But he doesn’t understand how to exercise restraint.” Emperor Jianzhang paid no heed to Empress Lu and turned his head to look at her of his own accord: “I heard that Miss Song Six came to the palace with Duanhui. You saw her before making up your mind, didn’t you?”
After many years of marriage, Emperor Jianzhang truly understood how much his wife indulged and yielded to this eldest son. He laughed once, looking at Empress Lu’s deathly pale face: “What you heard from Miss Song Six, I also learned all about from Lai Chenglong.”
Empress Lu was so terrified that her complexion turned from ashen to white and then from white back to ashen. Nearly unable to catch her breath, she bit down hard on her lip, feeling she had been deceived by Song Chuyi—she had always been clear that Lai Chenglong had a prior connection with Song Chuyi, and she had once rejoiced over this very point.
When Lai Chenglong was in Yangquan, he had thoroughly understood the principle of concealing from superiors but not from subordinates. There was no reason for him to suddenly decide to withdraw the foot he had already half-stepped forward at this juncture. It was just that in Yangquan, he had smoothed things over for Zhou Weizhao’s sake, and now in the capital, he was also following Song Chuyi’s wishes in exposing the Crown Prince’s affairs.
For a moment, Empress Lu felt she couldn’t clearly see what Song Chuyi was actually thinking. She even felt somewhat vexed and entertained murderous thoughts—she was about to marry into the Eastern Palace, so did she know or not what it meant to bring this matter before Emperor Jianzhang?!
Did she naively think this would seek justice for Zhou Weizhao?! Empress Lu was extremely angry, feeling that Song Chuyi was truly still too young, still carrying youthful spirit and naivety—she had clearly already punished the Crown Prince and struck with such a heavy hand. The Crown Prince was neither dead, so it wouldn’t affect Zhou Weizhao and Song Chuyi’s marriage, nor was he able to run amok anymore. Then they could find a way to cover up both Zhou Weizhao’s assassination and the Crown Prince’s poisoning, push out a scapegoat, fabricate a reasonable explanation, and wouldn’t that be the end of it? Why did Song Chuyi insist on making a fuss before Emperor Jianzhang, displaying this festering sore naked for all to see?!
She moved her lips slightly, her eyes fixed tightly on Emperor Jianzhang’s expression, with a trace of caution: “Your Majesty…”
She wanted to explain but didn’t know exactly what Lai Chenglong had told Emperor Jianzhang or how far he had gone, leaving her completely unable to begin.
Emperor Jianzhang frowned, just as he had in the former residence in earlier days, his brows knitting into a deep furrow. He raised his hand to interrupt Empress Lu and sighed on his own: “I said before that I wanted to preserve all ten fingers. But now I have already lost one finger.”
Prince Duan was already dead. Empress Lu knew he regarded his children very heavily and lowered her head, sobbing quietly.
“You made the decision for me. If I had allowed him to continue running amok, all my fingers would have been severed.” He said, his tone obscure and inscrutable: “I once thought I was still a good father, but now it seems that is not the case. No wonder after burning green sacrificial prayers for so many years and practicing alchemy for so many years, there’s been no effect whatsoever.”
Empress Lu dared not respond to these words. She was terrified out of her wits by Emperor Jianzhang’s tone and this speech. Sliding from the bed to the floor, she tearfully embraced Emperor Jianzhang’s legs: “Your Majesty, it’s this subject-wife’s fault. It’s this subject-wife who made him become what he is today…”
If only she hadn’t forgotten her eldest son in that moment of panic back then. If only she hadn’t indulged him blindly from the start, perhaps things wouldn’t have turned out this way. She was filled with extreme regret, crying so hard she couldn’t speak.
Emperor Jianzhang didn’t look at her. His gaze looked straight into the distance. After a long while, he finally let out a sigh: “I only have two legitimate sons in total. Having suffered enough from my stepmother’s oppression, I always thought of giving my legitimate sons their proper status early on to avoid repeating the mistakes I and Prince Tai made back then. But now it seems that in the imperial family, thinking I could treat them equally and thereby make the brothers harmonious—that was too naive of me.”