Before Elder Du returned home, she had already listened to Madam Du ramble on for half the day about what had happened at the Crown Princess’s chambers, combined with the bruises on her knees—Du Fang Xi’s eyes flashed with a trace of mockery, which she immediately suppressed. When the nest is overturned, how can any eggs remain intact? Even if her grandparents had never valued her before, even if her father was worthless, she still bore the Du surname, and her mother was still a matron of the Du clan. If the Du family encountered trouble, they wouldn’t escape unscathed either.
She turned and sat up, grasping her mother’s hand, looking at her intently for a long while. In the end, she said nothing, only shaking her head: “Mother, just do as I say. I would never harm you.”
First Madam Du naturally knew her daughter wouldn’t harm her, but she still felt somewhat worried, sensing that her daughter harbored some momentous secret in her heart. Yet her daughter had been sensible since childhood, and she had no way to make her talk. By evening, First Master Du still hadn’t returned. Learning that Elder Du was still in Madam Du’s chambers, she couldn’t help frowning: “What matter requires discussion from afternoon until night?”
But Madam Du only felt that even after an entire afternoon of discussion, things still weren’t clear. She clutched Elder Du’s arm, trembling: “His Majesty actually placed the infamy of disobedience and unfilial conduct on Prince Gong’s head—this shows he truly detests him to the extreme.”
Otherwise, what parents would bear to place such a enormous hat subject to universal condemnation upon their own son’s head? Emperor Jianzhang clearly wanted to completely sever Prince Gong’s ambitions—having been personally called disobedient and unfilial by Emperor Jianzhang, and banished to guard the imperial mausoleum, not even allowed to spend the Mid-Autumn Festival in the capital, treated even worse than the concubine-born Prince Su and Prince Lu, how would the world view Prince Gong? Everyone would see him as a heartless, ungrateful, unfilial, disloyal rebel son. With such a premise established, unless Emperor Jianzhang’s descendants all died out, no matter how things turned, it would never be this prince’s turn.
After sighing for a while, Madam Du glanced at him: “I fear Prince Gong will resent us as well.”
Elder Du knew this himself and couldn’t help feeling irritated. Originally, no matter how angry Emperor Jianzhang was, he had still left Prince Gong some leeway, planning to admonish him privately, then find some acceptable excuse to keep Prince Gong’s legitimate eldest son in the capital while sending him back to his fief. Who knew this commotion would make things deteriorate to an irreparable state?
But this was unavoidable. As mentioned before, if they didn’t fight for something, things might be fine now while Emperor Jianzhang was still alive—he was Prince Gong’s father, after all. But later, when the Grand Prince ascended the throne, how could he tolerate this uncle who had once tried to strike at him?
They could only blame themselves for being foolish, thinking people were so benevolent—even if Crown Princess Lu was the most benevolent person, after so many years living with the cold and hard-as-steel Crown Prince, she had probably been ground into stone herself. How could she still care about old sentiments?
Elder Du fell silent for a moment, then turned to look at Madam Du: “In a few days, the Song family will marry off their daughter. Although they found Madam Cui as the auspicious matron, they’ll likely have difficulty finding an elder to accompany the bed. Years ago, when Chief Minister Chang’s daughter married, they still invited you. You have the qualifications, and if you can extend a hand, you might as well help.”
Madam Du had suffered humiliation at the Song family’s hands last time. Hearing Elder Du say this, she was about to shake her head without thinking, but then restrained herself—she hesitated, glancing at Elder Du: “Even if we deliberately try to please them, they may not necessarily accept our olive branch. You didn’t see that Sixth Miss Song—she’s truly formidable. Even facing her, I felt inferior.”
Elder Du was rather dismissive: “No matter how formidable Sixth Miss Song is, she can’t monopolize a Grand Prince—if the Grand Prince truly ascends the throne in the future, even if he doesn’t value feminine beauty, he’ll still need Four Consorts. If she and the Song family are smart, they should know that my willingness to align with them at this time is no small assistance.”
Although Emperor Jianzhang had rebuked and angered him, he ultimately hadn’t told him to pack up and leave, which meant he still had use for him. After so many years of cultivation in the court, rising from Vice Director of the Imperial Academy all the way up, never offending anyone and forming quite a few favorable connections, who wouldn’t give him some face? Not to mention he had once followed Prince Gong—if he switched allegiance to the Grand Prince, bringing along a group willing to submit, and listing those unwilling to submit, what enormous benefits would that bring?
Before power and profit, romantic sentiments were nothing.
Moreover, he stroked his beard: “Besides, Sixth Miss Song is formidable, but I see Fang Xi is no less capable.”
If she were any less capable, given her mother’s lack of sons and favor, and being a girl herself, she wouldn’t have gotten by so smoothly.
Madam Du knew he had made up his mind. After thinking it over, she still worried somewhat: “That’s all well and good, but once we switch sides, Prince Gong will probably think we deliberately dug this pit for him this time.”
But Elder Du wasn’t anxious. As Madam Du had said earlier, Prince Gong could now be said to have his future completely ruined. He couldn’t support himself, trusted Han Zhengqing blindly, leading to this outcome—whose fault was it?
The two discussed for a while. Apart from knowing they needed to first mend relations with the Song family, they had no other leads—with Prince Gong’s downfall, it wouldn’t simply end there. Not even mentioning the two gold mines on his fief, which would certainly be reclaimed, even the officials in Taiyuan and those subordinate officials in his princely mansion would probably all have to be replaced.
The entangled interests within couldn’t be sorted out in a moment. They still needed to first attach themselves to the Grand Prince before they could properly handle matters on that end.
After finally finishing their discussion and having a meal served, Elder Du accompanied Madam Du through dinner, then heard that First Madam Du had arrived.
Madam Du knew Du Fang Xi was a filial daughter who cherished her mother, First Madam Du, dearly. Compared to usual, she was even warmer toward First Madam Du, nodding and having her brought in, even asking gently whether she had eaten.
Who knew First Madam Du would immediately kneel upon hearing this, crying rivers of tears and snot, saying that First Master Du had set up a mistress outside, and had even already sired a son.
She truly cried from heartbreak, thinking of how her husband never came home and always made her cover for him. Feeling even more wronged, she soon cried until she couldn’t speak.
Elder Du and Madam Du exchanged glances, both astonished. If it were in the past, this would naturally be cause for celebration—the children in the second and third branches were nearly grown, while the first branch only had one little bean sprout, not even legitimate-born, uncertain whether he could even grow up. If another could be born, that would naturally be good. But now, they both couldn’t help but feel their hearts sink—Emperor Jianzhang had just finished scolding Elder Du for his household being in disorder and his inner quarters unstable!