Situ Sheng handed the letter directly to Chu Linlang.

Chu Linlang unfolded it and read carefully, her face immediately draining of color.

It turned out that three days prior, during a morning court assembly with his ministers, the old Emperor had slipped on the steps as he descended from the dais and suddenly fallen to the ground.

Although the eunuchs around him, including Sheng Hai, had been there to support him and he had not fallen too heavily, his condition was far from good — one side of his body had gone numb, and there were signs of his mouth drooping to one side.

Experienced imperial physicians took one look and recognized that His Majesty appeared to have suffered a stroke. Though they administered acupuncture promptly, his condition showed no signs of improvement.

Even so, although His Majesty’s speech was somewhat slurred, his mind remained relatively clear. He immediately summoned several senior ministers to his side, intending to issue an imperial decree.

In recent days, the father-and-son relationship between the Crown Prince and His Majesty had grown increasingly strained. On multiple occasions, His Majesty had openly reprimanded the Crown Prince in front of his ministers for lacking virtue, and more than once had hinted to senior officials that he intended to depose the Crown Prince from his position as heir.

Only the opposition of several senior ministers had prevented this from being carried out immediately.

But now that His Majesty had fallen gravely ill, he had made up his mind — he wanted to have the decree deposing the national heir drafted before his illness rendered him unable to speak at all.

Just yesterday at the break of dawn, the Crown Prince had heard news from someone close to His Majesty’s side. Under the pretext of performing filial duty at his ailing father’s bedside, he had brought men with him and sealed off the palace gates.

Word had it that he had already been pressuring His Majesty to draft an abdication edict, compelling him to pass the throne ahead of time — lest this father of his stir up any more trouble.

However, His Majesty was no pushover. He had apparently arranged in advance to have the imperial jade seal and golden seal hidden away, refusing to let the Crown Prince have his way.

Now the palace was being torn apart — even the rat holes had been prised open — as the search for the national seal and golden seal went on everywhere.

Meanwhile, the Crown Prince had taken to conducting state affairs at the front of the hall, issuing one astonishing policy decision after another.

First, he made sweeping changes to the military commanders responsible for the troop deployments surrounding the capital. Then he blocked the ministers’ attempts to visit His Majesty.

He further issued edicts on His Majesty’s behalf, dispatching men to the northern territories to relieve Li Chengyi and his son of their posts, while simultaneously ordering Situ Sheng to return to the capital at once and present himself before the Emperor.

But the most unexpected matter of all concerned the marriage alliance with the Kingdom of Jing.

According to the Emperor’s original intentions, a suitable woman was to be selected from among the imperial clan’s relatives, granted the title of princess, and then sent to Jing as a bride for the peace alliance.

The Crown Prince, however, argued that the northern territories were remote and desolate, and that the women of the imperial clan were too delicate and could not withstand the harsh local climate and conditions.

In past marriage alliances, there had been precedents of female officials from the palace being granted titles and sent as brides. Since that was the case, he suggested it would be just as well to select a reliable woman from the Empress Dowager’s side, grant her an elevated title, and send her off.

Yet the person the Crown Prince ultimately settled upon was not one of the Empress Dowager’s female officials at all — it was Xinmei Yiren Chu Linlang, who frequently entered the palace to keep the Empress Dowager company!

In the Crown Prince’s own words: “Our Great Jin’s border forces have won victory after victory — there is no need to offer up a precious noblewoman in humble submission. Xinmei Yiren has been showered with affection by the Empress Dowager and His Majesty, no different from a beloved granddaughter. She is charming in appearance, and having been married before, she knows how to attend to a man. She is so skilled at flattery and winning favor, adept at moving among the powerful and influential, and blessed with good fortune besides — would she not thrive in the Kingdom of Jing, finally having a place where her talents can be put to use?”

And so this edict was proclaimed. It merely awaited Chu Linlang’s return to the capital, whereupon she would be granted the title of “Princess of Abundant Blessings” and sent as a bride to the northern territories.

Upon hearing the news, the Third Imperial Prince immediately dispatched a messenger to send word to Situ Sheng. However, his Third Prince’s residence had also been sealed off, and getting this letter out had been no easy feat.

At present, the capital was under curfew and martial law everywhere. Although senior ministers were creating uproar in the court hall, the Crown Prince refused to relent, and no one was able to gain an audience with His Majesty.

Those with clear eyes and sharp minds all understood: the Crown Prince was moving to ascend the throne ahead of schedule. He was only one step away — finding the jade seal and golden seal — from smoothly taking power.

“What do we do? If you and I return to the capital now, it would be like walking meat straight into a wolf’s mouth — we would immediately be put on the defensive. And the Third Prince’s situation must surely be more dire than hopeful. The moment the Crown Prince ascends the throne, his first target will be this brother who suddenly appeared to vie for favor.”

And the one the Crown Prince hated most was undoubtedly Situ Sheng, who had thwarted him time and again.

Otherwise, why would the Crown Prince have thought to send her off to Jing as a bride for no apparent reason? Most likely he had learned of her private relationship with Situ Sheng — and so the Crown Prince intended to send her to be degraded at the hands of Jing’s powerful men.

This would also be the greatest humiliation possible against Situ Sheng, who had always championed the cause of war.

Situ Sheng read the letter through once more and said in a low voice: “You cannot return to the capital. Come with my mother to Lingnan for now — once the situation has stabilized, I will come and bring you back.”

When Chu Linlang had seen Wen Shi safely away, she had feared that someone in the capital might recognize her, so she had not sent her into the city itself. Instead, she had instructed Dongxue to quietly rent lodgings in the suburbs of the capital and arrange for Wen Shi to be settled there in secret.

Situ Sheng had fully agreed with Chu Linlang’s approach and had also had Dongxue carry out the arrangements accordingly.

Looking at things now, this course of action had saved Wen Shi from falling into the Crown Prince’s hands — it had proven to be a fortunate means of retreat.

But Chu Linlang refused to agree. Wen Shi would naturally go to Lingnan — but she herself was not going anywhere. She would stay by Situ Sheng’s side.

Seeing that Situ Sheng was about to try to persuade her otherwise, she reached out directly and took hold of his hand: “At a critical moment like this, if something were to happen to you, at least I could be nearby to think of countermeasures. If I were to leave, wouldn’t you be worried sick about me? There is no need to try to persuade me. You should hurry and think of a way to meet with the Third Prince and devise a plan to deal with all of this.”

Having said that, she thought for a moment and added: “What we fear most right now is that the Crown Prince will take things to an irreversible extreme and commit the heinous act of murdering his father to seize the throne. But based on my understanding of the Crown Prince, he will not do something like that unless he is absolutely forced into a corner.”

Situ Sheng raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”

Chu Linlang gave a bitter smile. “Before, on His Majesty’s birthday, all the other princes presented rare and novel curiosities as gifts. Only the Crown Prince presented something different — a hundred-blessing screen that he and the Crown Princess had created together, one writing the characters and the other embroidering them. His Majesty even praised the Crown Prince at the time, saying that although the Crown Prince had not made much progress in state affairs, his deeply filial heart was worthy of a firstborn son…”

Situ Sheng could not detect anything remarkable in these words — it seemed like nothing more than His Majesty trying to save the Crown Prince some face, offering a casual, halfhearted compliment.

Chu Linlang shook her head. She understood that Situ Sheng was someone who, from childhood to adulthood, had never placed any importance on a father’s love.

Although he had never received the warmth of a caring father from Yang Yi, his grandfather had perfectly and seamlessly fulfilled the duties of a father in his stead.

And so Situ Sheng likely could not comprehend the deep, long-held craving the Crown Prince had always harbored — that desire for the satisfaction of being acknowledged by his father.

In that moment when His Majesty had spoken those words of praise, Chu Linlang had been sitting beside the Empress Dowager and had seen it perfectly clearly: the corners of the Crown Prince’s eyes had grown moist, and he had very nearly broken down and wept right there in front of all the assembled imperial relatives.

A Crown Prince who so desperately craved his imperial father’s acknowledgment — would he truly give the order to murder his own sovereign? What he most wanted to do, surely, was to ascend the throne as quickly as possible and then achieve the accomplishments of an enlightened ruler — to prove it all to his father, lying inconsequentially on his sickbed — to show him just how wrong his favoritism had been all along!

Situ Sheng listened to Chu Linlang’s analysis and found it held considerable merit.

When it came to imperial strategy and reading the hearts of men, Situ Sheng was more than capable.

But matters of familial affection and how parents and children navigated their relationships — that was not his area of strength. It was Chu Linlang who understood such things best.

Hearing her put it this way, Situ Sheng now saw clearly the Crown Prince’s vulnerable soft spot.

So this was nothing more than a worthless son desperately wanting his father’s praise! Hell-bent on stirring up trouble, on doing something — anything — to prove his existence to a father who had always looked right through him.

But this worthless son happened to be the Crown Prince of an entire nation. The trouble he was capable of stirring up could unleash a storm of blood and carnage, bringing ruin to countless families.

Thinking of this, Situ Sheng said quietly: “You go quietly and find Dongxue and the others. I need to go and meet with some people first.”

Chu Linlang knew he had many urgent matters to attend to at this moment. Even if she stayed, she absolutely could not drag him down — so she nodded at once.

She thought for a moment, then added, unable to hold back a reminder: “The Tao Family has been the Crown Prince’s greatest source of support throughout all the years he has held his ground. Yet the last time His Majesty cast the Crown Prince aside, the Tao Family did not stand fully behind him. You must tell the Third Prince: at a time like this, he and his wife should work to win the Tao Family over — not force the Tao Family to sit on an uncomfortable fence…”

Situ Sheng gave a nod, but could not help looking at her and saying: “From beginning to end, you don’t seem particularly worried about the matter of yourself being sent as a bride in a marriage alliance.”

Chu Linlang smiled faintly, her gaze meeting Situ Sheng’s with firm resolve: “My man is still alive. Why should I worry about being forced to marry someone else?”

Situ Sheng smiled as well. He bent his head and pulled Linlang into his embrace, pressed a fierce kiss to her cheek, and then hurried off.

Chu Linlang parted from him at the side of the post road and watched as he rode away swiftly with his men.

Dongxue had settled Wen Shi in the village neighboring Chu Linlang’s suburban estate on the outskirts of the capital.

The scenery here was beautiful, and scholars and painters from distant places often came to lodge here and paint the mountains and waters.

So their settling in had drawn no particular curiosity or scrutiny from anyone.

Chu Linlang went to see Wen Shi and found that, owing to the proper management of her medications and the reasonably attentive care she had received over the years, there was no real emotional turbulence in her. She enjoyed painting every day — paintings had covered the room, covered the walls.

She also had a great fondness for tending to a set of small clay figurines she kept with her wherever she went.

Those clay figurines were clearly old, worn smooth and shiny from years of handling. Among them was one depicting a mother cradling a tiny swaddled infant no bigger than a peanut in her arms.

Looking at the somewhat childlike craftsmanship of the molding, Chu Linlang immediately guessed that this had been made by Situ Sheng when he was small.

Noticing Linlang examining it, Wen Shi smiled and said: “Pretty, isn’t it? My son made it for me.”

Chu Linlang knew that for the most part, Wen Shi’s memories remained anchored in her girlhood days in Lingnan.

But now she had suddenly said she had a son — could it mean her memories were returning?

Yet after saying it, Wen Shi herself seemed taken aback.

She had not yet married — how could she have a son?

And yet she distinctly remembered: it was a thin little boy who had made those clay figurines. He would carefully comb her hair and apply rouge to her face for her, recite all manner of unofficial histories and ancient poems to her, and fashion many little clay figurines for her to play with.

He always called her “Mother.” When she corrected him, saying she had not married and had no child, the boy’s eyes would grow wet and glistening — like an abandoned puppy found on the street’s edge…

As time went on, she had grown too lazy to keep correcting him, and simply let him hover around her, calling her “Mother” one call after another. And yet whenever she looked at this little clay figurine of a mother holding the peanut-sized swaddled infant, she had a dim sense that her own belly had once swelled high and round, that some tiny creature had from time to time kicked and drummed against the inside of her stomach…

Thinking of this, a faint smile slowly spread across Wen Shi’s face.

Chu Linlang did not disturb her as she drifted in her recollections. She simply rose to her feet, stood in the courtyard, and gazed toward the distant direction of the capital with undisguised worry.

Sometimes, drifting along in blissful unawareness was its own kind of happiness. If Wen Shi’s mind were fully clear, if she knew with complete awareness that her son was deep in a dragon’s den of danger, attempting to reverse the fate of the entire realm, then would she not be exactly like Chu Linlang herself — unable to eat or sleep, unable to sit still or stand at ease?

Thinking of this, she quietly pressed her hand to her still-flat abdomen and silently prayed for Situ Sheng to return safely.

She and the child were both waiting and hoping for him to come back unharmed.

Another two days passed. The curfew in the capital seemed to be growing ever more strict.

Xia Qingyun had returned together with Chu Linlang and the others. His injuries had healed well enough, and he had gone out with his manservant to gather information.

When he returned, he brought some fresh news.

Word had it that after His Majesty fell ill, the palace gates had first been sealed shut. Then three streets in the inner city near the imperial palace had been placed under martial law. But just two days prior, even the city gates of the capital had been closed — no one could enter or exit. All day long, soldiers marched back and forth in full armor, filling the hearts of the people with dread and unease.

As for what was happening inside the capital, Xia Qingyun had been unable to find out.

Chu Linlang was also trying to think through how Situ Sheng might untangle the predicament before them. But if His Majesty was in the Crown Prince’s hands, no matter how she looked at it, this seemed like an impossible puzzle with no solution.

Then on the third day, fire blazed to the sky on the capital’s side — it seemed a great fire had broken out.

Chu Linlang stared at the flames, her heart leaping into her throat. She could not remain still a moment longer. She had someone prepare a horse — she was going to the city gates to see for herself, and to try to get word of Situ Sheng’s whereabouts.

But when her carriage had traveled only halfway, Guanqi arrived leading a contingent of men and riders. Catching sight of Chu Linlang’s carriage, he immediately called out at the top of his voice.

It turned out Situ Sheng had sent him to bring her.

The moment Chu Linlang saw him arrive, a great portion of the weight in her heart lifted. She hurriedly asked Guanqi what had become of Lord Situ.

But Guanqi seemed to want to speak yet held himself back, only urging Madam Chu not to be too anxious.

It turned out that on the very day Situ Sheng entered the capital, the first thing he had done was find a way, by any means possible, to make contact with Eunuch An, who served beside the Empress Dowager inside the palace.

When he had served as Junior Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, he had cultivated a friendship with Eunuch An. And previously, the very first time Chu Linlang had been granted an audience with the Empress Dowager, she too had benefited from Eunuch An’s guidance and care.

At that time, though the palace had been placed under a curfew, the critical points of control were the Emperor’s bedchamber and the inner quarters of the harem consorts. The Empress Dowager’s own sleeping quarters, however, had no guards stationed around them. After all, the Empress Dowager had never involved herself in state affairs — in the Crown Prince’s eyes, this grandmother of his was of no consequence whatsoever.

And so Situ Sheng had disguised himself, and guided by a young eunuch along a small side gate known only to the attendants of the Empress Dowager’s inner chambers, he entered the Empress Dowager’s sleeping quarters and was granted an audience with her.

The Empress Dowager was fully aware of the Crown Prince’s series of actions, yet felt entirely powerless to stop them.

In the old woman’s view, her son had fallen ill, and her grandson’s urgency to ascend the throne was simply something that could not be helped.

Moreover, the Crown Prince had bribed the Imperial Guards and taken control of the court. As long as father and son did not fall into open, bitter antagonism, and the Crown Prince did not push his imperial father too hard, it would be best for everyone if the matter could be concluded with dignity and without scandal.

But Situ Sheng asked with an expression of grave solemnity: “Empress Dowager, if you were in the Crown Prince’s position — once he ascends the throne — how tolerant do you believe he will be of his brothers? Will he treat the Third Prince, the Sixth Prince, and even the Fourth Prince, who has been banished to a remote region, with kindness?”

The Empress Dowager was startled by the question. She knew the character of her eldest grandson well — petty, vindictive, prone to nursing grudges.

Back when Noble Consort Jing had fallen from grace, the Crown Prince had contributed no small effort toward her downfall. His hatred for Noble Consort Jing and for the Fourth Prince was the kind that would endure without end.

And since the Third Prince’s return, he had stolen a great deal of the Crown Prince’s limelight — the Crown Prince surely harbored deep resentment over that as well. If he became Emperor, it was feared he would not treat these brothers of his with any kindness at all.

Thinking of this, the heart of this grandmother grew heavy and troubled. She could only say helplessly: “But what can be done about it? He is holding His Majesty captive, and even I cannot gain an audience. What power does anyone have?”

—