Wan Shi nodded and, quite seriously, got out of bed to head to the table. Hua Chun quickly supported her and helped her walk over slowly.
“I’ve always remembered her face very clearly.” Wan Liufang said through tears as she spoke. “Someone advised me long ago to be done with it once and for all, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’ve spent twenty years living in fear because of it—even if she’d turned to ash, I’d still… cough cough…”
Seeing her so agitated, Hua Chun hurried to pour her a cup of tea. No sooner had she finished pouring than Wan Shi said, “Done.”
That fast? Hua Chun went over with a serious expression to look.
“This is exactly what she looked like.” Wan Shi pointed at the simple sketch on the paper, grief-stricken. “Small eyes, somewhat thick lips, and a black mole on the chin. I drew it very clearly, didn’t I?”
Hua Chun: “…”
It was indeed clear enough—just a circle, small eyes drawn in, thick lips, plus a mole. Not even hair had been drawn.
She felt a bit despondent, looking up at Wan Shi. “Mother, do you think this can help find the wet nurse?”
“It should work!” Wan Shi nodded with great confidence.
Hua Chun fell silent.
She finally understood why fugitives on TV dramas could just walk out the city gate past a wanted poster after a bit of a disguise.
“Take it, and send more people—the capital is so vast, it’ll be very difficult to find her,” Wan Shi said worriedly. “Have people copy this and make several more.”
“What’s her name?” Hua Chun asked.
“Jixiang.” Wan Shi said. “You can also search by name!”
Ji… xiang…
A servant’s name so casually given, clearly never registered with any government office—how was she supposed to find someone like that? Household registration in ancient times was already so incomplete, and there were no ID cards to speak of!
Rubbing her face in a headache, Hua Chun smiled at Wan Shi. “Mother, don’t worry, your son will definitely find her. You’re still unwell—rest for now.”
“All right.” Wan Shi nodded and went back to bed to keep sleeping.
Sighing, Hua Chun closed the door and left.
Over the following days, Wan Shi’s condition kept fluctuating, and she asked every day whether they’d found the person yet, sometimes running a high fever, sometimes turning cold. Hua Chun grew anxious with no way to help, pushing all court matters onto He Chang’an, then mobilizing the Prime Minister’s estate servants to search for the wet nurse.
“Sister Ren, don’t you find this a bit strange?”
In the garden, Consort Wu held a piece of pastry and looked at Ren Shi. “Madam seems so anxious—even this seriously ill, she keeps telling the eldest son to find something. What could be so important?”
“You’re asking me? Who should I ask, then?” Ren Shi rolled her eyes. “The people in her courtyard have tight mouths—not a hint of information gets out.”
“Doesn’t the Prime Minister’s estate have a servant who’s a distant relative of yours, Sister?” Wu Shi smiled. “You could go ask around.”
Glancing at her, Ren Shi frowned. “Why would I have nothing better to do than go asking about this? It’s not like it’s important.”
“Ah, people are just naturally curious. There’s nothing else to do anyway—it’s no trouble for you, Sister, and it would settle my curiosity. What’s the harm?”
Ren Shi smiled. “Sister, don’t always try to use me as your gun. If something goes wrong later, I’ll end up taking the blame. If you’re curious, go ask yourself—I’m not interested in this kind of thing.”
With that, she got up and returned to her room.
Wu Shi pouted, then waved over the maid beside her and murmured a few words.
Claiming disinterest aside, the moment Ren Shi got back to her room, she still sent someone to ask around. Wan Shi had always held an unassailable position in the estate—aside from her sharp temper, hardly anyone could find fault with her—and she too wanted to know what was making her so anxious.
The servant came back and reported, “Everyone at the Prime Minister’s estate is holding a portrait, searching for a wet nurse named Jixiang.”
Ren Shi was startled.
She had entered the estate quite early, and naturally remembered that wet nurse. She had served at the eldest son’s side, and was sent away by Wan Shi the moment he was weaned, supposedly because Wan Shi feared the child would grow closer to the wet nurse than to her.
Why was she being searched for now?
Puzzled, Ren Shi sat by her bed and thought for a long while, and suddenly recalled a doubt of her own from years ago.
After Wan Shi gave birth, the midwife holding the baby had said it was a boy, but had absolutely refused to let the master lift the swaddling to look, saying it was premature and couldn’t bear even a hint of cold air.
The master had been too overjoyed at the time and truly hadn’t looked. After that, no one ever verified whether the child was male or female—except the wet nurse.
Wan Shi’s attitude back then had been so overbearing, cradling the boy as if she held the whole world in her arms, that no one had ever suspected the child she was holding might not really be a boy.
Though the eldest son had grown up so much by now, there was still something delicate and soft about him—marrying only past twenty, and seemingly indifferent to women. Could it be…
Pausing, Ren Shi shook her head—impossible. If the eldest son were a girl, how could she have placed first in the imperial examinations and become Prime Minister? Women weren’t capable of such things; it was probably just a coincidence.
Thinking this over, Ren Shi still got up and went to pay her respects at Wan Shi’s courtyard.
“Eldest son, has Madam taken her medicine today?”
Hua Chun was leaning against the bed resting, and turned at the words. “Already given.”
Ren Shi looked her over, and—whether because of the suspicion in her heart—looking at the eldest son this way, her body really did seem as slender and soft as a woman’s, her face delicate as well.
“What happened to your hand?” Noticing the red mark on Hua Jinghua’s hand, Ren Shi asked.
Hua Chun raised her hand blankly and looked at it. “Probably scalded by accident, nothing serious.”
“How could you be so careless?” Ren Shi quickly had someone bring burn ointment, sitting beside her. “Here, let this concubine apply it for you.”
Why so warm today? Hua Chun looked at her with confusion, but after a moment’s thought, still held out her hand.
Slender fingers, pale and delicate skin—this pair of hands was even more finely kept than Ren Shi’s own, carefully maintained over the years. Ren Shi paused, lowering her eyes.
Hua Liuying was resting in the palace when she suddenly received a letter from Ren Shi.
“It’s been quite a while since she last wrote to me.” She took it and opened it.
The beginning was mostly idle chatter about the household. Hua Jinghua was on temporary leave and wouldn’t be entering the palace due to Wan Shi’s illness. Hua Liuying read along cheerfully, but further down she saw Ren Shi write: “I don’t know if it’s just this mother’s overthinking, but I keep feeling the eldest son doesn’t seem quite like a normal man—there’s much of a woman’s bearing to him. Your Highness should still be careful and stay alert.”
A woman’s bearing? Hua Liuying’s face darkened.
What did that mean? Was it saying Elder Brother might disguise himself as a woman to seduce the emperor or something? How shameless could that be!
She cursed a few times, then calmed down again. Thinking it over, something felt off—that didn’t make sense. He was the Prime Minister, after all—how would he dare disguise himself as a woman to seduce the sovereign? Consort Ren’s words probably didn’t mean that.
So what were they talking about?
“Shiyu.” Hua Liuying said. “Send word out of the palace—whatever they’re searching for, tell Mother to search along with them too.”
“Yes.” Shiyu complied.
At the same time, Consort Shu also received a letter from outside the palace.
Wu Shi hadn’t meant to warn her of anything—she was just sharing an interesting bit of gossip, mentioning in passing that the eldest son and Wan Shi were both frantically searching for a wet nurse, and remarked offhandedly, “I’m rather curious what secret that wet nurse knows, that they’d go to such lengths to find her.”
Hua Xunyue paused slightly, holding the letter and thinking for a long while.
It wasn’t as if no one at the Hua estate had ever doubted the eldest son’s identity, but since Master Hua disliked such topics, and the eldest son was too capable, having become Prime Minister, and with Wan Shi being so fierce, no one had dared to investigate.
Searching for the wet nurse, was it…
“Poxiao, relay my decree,” she said. “Have Consort Wu send people to help the eldest son search. If they find her, report to me first.”
“Yes.” The senior palace maid beside her acknowledged.
Not having seen Hua Jinghua for several days in a row, Yuwen Jie’s expression showed nothing on the surface, but after court he turned and asked, “Is the Prime Minister’s mother still seriously ill?”
Eunuch Qin cupped his hands. “Yes. The Prime Minister’s filial devotion is admirable—he has been by the old madam’s side attending to her the whole time.”
Pressing his lips together, the emperor got into the imperial carriage and turned to look at He Chang’an standing on the other side. “Have you been to the Hua estate to see him?”
He Chang’an very much wanted to roll his eyes but forced himself to hold back, gritting his teeth. “Reporting to Your Majesty, this official has been handling official business on Your Majesty’s behalf and hasn’t had a moment’s leisure to go to the Hua estate.”
Every time he left the palace it was already the middle of the night, and more often than not he just slept right there in the Purple Dawn Hall. The emperor, meanwhile, had all the free time in the world to wander here and there, while he alone toiled away with his brush in the Purple Dawn Hall—let alone visiting the Hua estate, he barely had time to properly rest!
Prime Minister Hua really did have it hard…
“I see.” The emperor nodded. “Then work harder today, and later I’ll grant you a favor.”
Now that was more like it! He Chang’an’s eyes lit up with genuine emotion. “Many thanks, Your Majesty!”
Finish things quickly, and he could go visit Jinghua tonight, right? Thinking this, the moment he arrived at the Purple Dawn Hall he threw himself earnestly into reading memorials and drafting proposals.
And yet, as it turned out, he was still too naive.
By the time he finally finished, it was already dusk, and the emperor looked at him gently and said, “You’ve worked hard all day. I’ll grant you a bath at Huaqing Pool, then you may leave the palace and head home.”
He Chang’an: “…” This was the favor?
“Your Majesty.” He couldn’t help but speak up directly. “Your servant only wants to go to the Hua estate right now.”
“I am a sovereign who understands his officials’ hearts,” Yuwen Jie said with a straight face. “Knowing you’re worried about Prime Minister Hua, I’ve decided to go see him on your behalf. You’re exhausted—you shouldn’t be running around anymore.”
He was going to see him himself?!
Too angry even to be properly angry, He Chang’an frowned. “Your Majesty leaving the palace shouldn’t be done carelessly, and going to the Hua estate especially—it’s quite inconvenient.”
“I have my own arrangements,” the emperor said. “You needn’t worry about it.”
How could he not worry? He’d worked himself to exhaustion these past days precisely so the emperor and the Prime Minister could keep some distance and avoid suspicion, worried that staying together all the time would lead to trouble. And now this—the emperor was going to personally visit the Hua estate?
He Chang’an shook his head vigorously, his peach-blossom eyes full of concern for the realm. “Your servant would rather exhaust himself further, if only Your Majesty would kindly stay in the palace.”
“I’m sick of the palace,” Yuwen Jie said flatly. “It’s terribly dull.”
He Chang’an fell silent.
You’ve been stuck here for twenty-five years already—what do you mean by “sick of it” now? Is it dull only because Hua Jinghua isn’t around? Where does that leave this whole harem and this entire desk of memorials?