Not long after Empress Lu fell ill, news came that Princess Gong had also fallen ill on her way to the Imperial Mausoleum. Her illness seemed quite serious—at first she had a drowsy fever, then, perhaps because she caught a chill and developed additional symptoms, she developed lung heat and began coughing. She had been unable to rise for several days already. Naturally, Empress Lu in the palace dispatched imperial physicians and sighed mournfully to Emperor Jianzhang: “I saw that Hong’er had no suitable person to attend to him, and she insisted on going herself, so I approved it. Who knew her health was so poor?”
Emperor Jianzhang paid it no mind. Daughters-in-law were not the same as sons, and besides, he had already sacrificed one son. If a daughter-in-law fell ill, just send imperial physicians to treat her. He even issued instructions: “Why not recuperate on the road then, and continue once recovered?”
Recently there had been frequent epidemics in Hubei, and now the weather alternated between hot and cool. If it truly was some plague and infected Prince Gong, what would they do? He had blocked Prince Gong’s path forward, but he didn’t actually want his son to die—he only wanted him to peacefully serve as a vassal prince.
Empress Lu had bitterness she couldn’t express, and inevitably complained privately to Princess Rongcheng: “Even if urgent, there was no need to strike while still on the road!” The couple hadn’t even seen each other’s faces. Zhou Weizhao’s meaning was clearly that he didn’t want the couple to be able to meet.
Princess Rongcheng had initially been anxious because Prince Zhennan’s manor had revealed intentions to send Ye Yunxiu as a secondary consort to Zhou Weizhao. Now that her mother-in-law personally said there was no such thought, she neither needed to offend Song Chuyi nor be the villain pleading on behalf of someone when Zhou Weizhao was currently devoted to Song Chuyi. Her heart felt much lighter. Hearing her mother say this, she counseled her: “Her conduct is improper. Who knows how much trouble she would cause if she went to my brother’s side? If she truly seduced my brother into doing something wrong, wouldn’t Mother Empress be the one suffering in the end? You should stop mentioning this matter. What’s passed is passed—why create unpleasantness with Weizhao over her?”
Empress Lu knew this was reasonable, but having said it once, she brought up an old matter again: “But Song Sixth Miss’s scheming is truly too deep—I’m uneasy about it. Although Lady Yang harbors ill intentions, what she said isn’t necessarily without merit. Weizhao can’t have only Song Chuyi by his side, can he?” She looked at her daughter, feeling that now she could only discuss these matters with her daughter. She sighed helplessly: “Your father emperor’s intention is that in about half a year, he will formally establish the Crown Grandson. Once he receives that Crown Grandson’s golden seal, he will be the heir apparent. How difficult will his future path be? Isn’t it good to have more people around him? I know they fear those with ulterior motives will mix in, but if they’re our own people, what is there to fear? In my view, Chonghua would be very good, and Duanhui’s Hualuan is also not bad… First establish two secondary consorts…”
Princess Rongcheng’s brows furrowed tighter the more she listened. By the time Empress Lu finished, her brows were practically knitted into a ball. She immediately shook her head, wanting to dispel her mother’s notion: “Mother Empress should dismiss this thought as early as possible! Haven’t you understood Weizhao’s meaning yet? He has said that for now he only wants Song Sixth Miss alone—how could he look favorably upon others? Moreover, wasn’t it Lady Yang who told you this?”
It was indeed Lady Yang who had said it, but Empress Lu thought about it and felt this matter had a hundred benefits without a single harm—previously they had to consider the Crown Prince and couldn’t give Lu Chonghua to Zhou Weizhao, fearing it would deepen the Crown Prince’s resentment. But now the Crown Prince was in such a state, and naturally there was no need to hold back from growing close to the Lu family. Strengthening family ties—what was wrong with that?
Empress Lu was somewhat dismissive: “These are all childish words. When he grows up, he’ll understand.”
“Then wait until after he grows up to discuss it,” Princess Rongcheng disagreed. Looking at Empress Lu, she could only sigh: “At this time, Mother Empress should peacefully recover from your illness before anything else. Tomorrow is Mid-Autumn Festival, and you should be leading the titled ladies in moon worship and prayers for blessings. Stop worrying about these matters.”
Empress Lu was rebuffed by her daughter in just a few words, but the thought still hadn’t dissipated. She was about to discuss the Du family with her daughter—if nothing else worked, Weizhao could at least accept the Du family’s daughter, right? After all, this was an Elder, and one of Prince Gong’s key supporters. Once he pledged allegiance to Zhou Weizhao, wouldn’t Zhou Weizhao’s position be even more secure?
But before she could speak, she heard Xie Siyi softly report: “Your Majesty, Madam Du has submitted a request for an audience…”
Recently, Empress Lu had become very fond of the Du family’s young lady Du Fangxi, and often summoned Madam Du to bring Du Fangxi into the palace to talk. The Palace Attendants Bureau had received the request and directly passed it to Qingning Hall.
Before Empress Lu could speak, she heard Princess Rongcheng already asking: “Madam Du? What is she coming for at this time?”
After all, Elder Du was Prince Gong’s man. She had previously felt that Empress Lu walking too close to Prince Gong’s teacher was unwise—on one hand wanting to find ways to help Prince Gong, yet on the other hand wanting to marry Elder Du’s granddaughter to Zhou Weizhao. What was she thinking?
Later, a conversation with Ye Jingkuan made her even more alarmed. As Ye Jingkuan said, Emperor Jianzhang clearly knew Elder Du was Prince Gong’s teacher, and knew that if Prince Gong could intercept and attack the Crown Grandson near the capital, he must have had inside agents in the capital working in coordination to leak information. Yet why did he only crush Prince Gong while treating the rest leniently? It wasn’t truly waiting to settle accounts after autumn, but rather the way of maintaining balance. Otherwise, wouldn’t Zhou Weizhao as heir apparent be truly somewhat frightening?
She frowned looking at Empress Lu: “You should dismiss this thought as soon as possible and not mention what was said before to Madam Du.”
If Elder Du wanted to pledge loyalty, Zhou Weizhao couldn’t accept it either—otherwise it would be like challenging Emperor Jianzhang to a contest. For such a shrewd person as Elder Du to be so indiscriminate in finding a big tree to lean on—how could he not consider that such ugly behavior and fickleness would be too much of a taboo for Emperor Jianzhang?
When Madam Du entered, she walked very hurriedly. The gold hairpins on her head trembled violently with her steps. Only after seeing Empress Lu did she stabilize, collected her spirits, and first paid respects to Empress Lu and Princess Rongcheng.
Seeing her unsettled mind and appearing very distressed, Empress Lu asked: “What’s wrong? You were fine before.”
Madam Du was tongue-tied and unable to speak. After steadying herself again and again, she prostrated herself before Empress Lu: “Your Majesty…”
Empress Lu was startled. Although she had recently been mentally exhausted over her two sons and her mind wasn’t working quickly, she still knew that any matter worthy of an Elder’s wife coming before her to plead wouldn’t be small. Combined with her daughter’s words just now, she felt even more certain something was wrong. Thinking of how Zhou Weizhao had struck at Lady Yang over her suggestion of secondary consorts, her heart skipped a beat as she asked: “What matter has you so panicked? Just kneeling before me like this, I can’t possibly guess what’s happened to you.”