Song Chuyi couldn’t describe what she felt upon seeing Zhou Weizhao. First of all, she hadn’t expected Zhou Weizhao would have someone send her a letter, much less one about such crucial and highly classified matters as Lai Chenglong and Ye Jingkuan. If it weren’t for Lai Chenglong’s connection to Cui Shaoting, she, the entire Cui clan, and the Song family would all be meat on someone else’s chopping block right now, not knowing when the fatal blade would strike their heads.
She sat down across from Zhou Weizhao. Chongyin Workshop actually had a place like this—all four walls painted snow white with dots of red plum blossoms painted above. Simple yet not lacking in artistic conception and interest, it made one feel as if placed amid vast winter snows, unable to help but gain several degrees of clarity.
“Did Your Highness know beforehand that Lai Chenglong had already sent me a letter?” Song Chuyi didn’t conceal anything. With both hands placed on her knees, her clear eyes stared at Zhou Weizhao. If Zhou Weizhao had already known that Lai Chenglong sent her a letter and that she had already begun investigating before sending her this letter, she would feel somewhat better about it. What Zhou Weizhao did would merely be a favor done in passing that she could repay later. But if Zhou Weizhao didn’t know beforehand…
This thought had just surfaced in her mind when she saw Zhou Weizhao shake his head, his brows lightly furrowing as he asked in return: “Lai Chenglong also sent you a letter?!”
His shocked expression wasn’t feigned. In fact, he had no need to deceive her. Song Chuyi couldn’t describe what emotions suddenly surged in her heart. Following his words, she slowly nodded: “He and my maternal uncle have a deep friendship… But what he said wasn’t very clear either, just a few vague hints. I only learned about the conspiracy targeting my uncle slightly earlier than from Your Highness’s letter.”
Actually, even now she still couldn’t say she completely knew—at least she still hadn’t figured out exactly who was behind it all.
“For you to investigate all this in just these short two days based on Lai Chenglong’s ambiguous reminders is already quite remarkable.” Zhou Weizhao still looked at her with the same composed calm as before, as if nothing in this world was significant enough to change his expression. “I too only discovered some clues because of Jingkuan’s reminder, plus the suddenly increased memorials at Imperial Grandfather’s place and Yang Xuan’s proposal about border trade. Counting it up, by the time I sorted through all these matters, I’d already spent seven or eight days.”
For a time, no one spoke in the room. Song Chuyi silently watched the smoke slowly rising from the ingot-patterned, qilin-shaped incense burner. After a long while, she finally asked him softly: “Then Your Highness must certainly know this matter probably has countless connections to the Eastern Palace. If I really expose them all, isn’t Your Highness afraid?”
Zhou Weizhao looked at her, his gaze so clear it seemed like a newborn infant’s: “I remember I once told you that the Eastern Palace needs someone like Elder Chen to assist, but I don’t need a Chen family woman to add flowers to brocade. I still say the same now—the Eastern Palace needs capable ministers to assist, but doesn’t need people who act arbitrarily and think themselves infallible. When he made his move, he probably forgot that I must address Princess Duanhui as aunt, and your uncle is also my aunt’s husband.”
Song Chuyi was looked at by his overly clear gaze until her face actually flushed red. She unconsciously turned her head away to avoid his line of sight. Only after a long time did she taste the deeper meaning in Zhou Weizhao’s words.
This matter was Elder Chen acting on his own authority. First, he wanted to get his hands into affairs beyond the passes; second, he resented how the Cui and Song families were repeatedly shown favor by the Crown Prince, so he simply decided to eliminate them all in one sweep. In any case, the Crown Prince’s position was already stable—it was time for him to consolidate his own position.
But since Zhou Weizhao could guess at Elder Chen’s actions through subtle clues, others in the Eastern Palace weren’t necessarily unaware. Yet everyone had coincidentally chosen silence—Consort Fan probably thought that since they hadn’t acted directly and were at most bystanders, when the time came she could happily watch whichever family met with misfortune. If Elder Chen truly succeeded in this matter, then she would have nothing more to hesitate about and would directly decide on Chen Mingyu as Zhou Weiqi’s primary consort. But if the Cui clan could still stand firm after this affair, naturally the Song and Cui families would be more important in her heart.
Old Madam Song was quite right. These imperial nobility—when had they ever truly taken others’ lives and deaths to heart? Except for their own lives, everyone else’s lives were like grass and weeds, ready to be trampled underfoot at any time. Even Princess Duanhui, who was related to the imperial family by blood, was the same in their eyes.
But fortunately, Zhou Weizhao was different from all of them. Song Chuyi didn’t know why she suddenly felt relieved. The expression on her face, which had been tense all along, finally relaxed, and she showed Zhou Weizhao a faint smile: “Then I must trouble Your Highness once again this time.”
Having someone whose thoughts constantly aligned with yours—this was truly an incomparably worry-free matter. She was even more relaxed than when conversing with Song Chengru.
Zhou Weizhao shook his head: “If he can reach out once, he’ll reach out a second time. And his reach will only grow longer and longer. Human greed knows no bounds. Having tasted the sweetness, if he can topple the Cui and Song families this time, in the future if I don’t obey, he might turn to the other side and help them eliminate me… Politicians never speak of sentiment, only of interests. And I happen not to be someone who can promise him great benefits.”
At least he couldn’t possibly hand over Yangzhou and the territories beyond the passes to him. So this time when Chief Minister Chang controlled the selection of candidates to fill Yangzhou vacancies, he also strongly advised the Crown Prince not to interfere—Emperor Jianzhang had actually already been somewhat dissatisfied with the Crown Prince’s interference in Yangzhou affairs before. If the replacement candidates were all still the Crown Prince’s people, in Emperor Jianzhang’s eyes the Crown Prince would inevitably be labeled as someone grasping for power.
He tapped the tabletop, his narrow, upturned eyes that showed not a trace of wickedness looking at Song Chuyi: “So, this can also be considered me looking out for myself.”
He was the Eastern Palace’s legitimate son. From the moment of his birth he was enfeoffed as Crown Prince. He had no other path to take. Whether he was willing or not, as long as he lost, it meant only one word—death.
Song Chuyi looked directly into his eyes and slowly voiced her own thoughts: “I want to go to the northwest.”
She had thought it over repeatedly. The male members of the Song and Cui families would certainly be key surveillance targets for them—none were suitable to go to the northwest. But if they sent other people, they might not necessarily be able to adapt and respond to changes, nor might they necessarily gain Cui Shaoting’s trust. She was a young lady—even if she never stepped out of the main gate or inner door for several months from now on, the Song family could easily explain it away, without so many concerns.
Zhou Weizhao shook his head almost without even thinking: “Dismiss this notion at once. No matter how clever you are, you’re not faster than their swords and blades. Around Cui Shaoting now, not even water can penetrate. As soon as you enter northwest territory, you’d probably lose your life.”