In ordinary circumstances, Emperor Qiwen never obstructed or interfered with whatever Ninth Prince chose to do.

But this time, the Emperor insisted that the consort selection procedure must take place. Everyone understood well enough what the Emperor truly intended — he wanted the matter of Ninth Prince’s wedding to be known throughout the entire realm.

Regardless of anything else, the rumors circulating outside had never ceased. No one was truly willing to believe that the peerlessly handsome Ninth Prince could harbor feelings for an aging and faded imperial sister-in-law. Yet the tale of that sister-in-law chasing after Ninth Prince had been told with such vivid detail that it rang entirely true.

To silence the wagging tongues, a consort selection was the only path forward.

A selection would not only ease the suspicions of the masses, it would also put an end to the Empress’s hopes once and for all. Furthermore, Ninth Prince was genuinely no longer young, and a wedding was the natural and proper course of things.

Three benefits in one stroke — why not?

“In the imperial family, men who have passed the age of twenty are expected to marry. A’Jiu, there are so many grown princes in our Zhan imperial family who are unwilling to wed, and I suspect you are the one who set that trend. Don’t you think you ought to take some responsibility for it?”

Back in Ningxi Palace, with only mother and son present, the Ning Empress Dowager shed a measure of her earlier stiffness and carried herself with greater ease.

“You could see just now — though the Emperor said nothing, there was grievance in his heart. He is still a man, after all.”

Whether Zhan Qingcheng heard any of the Ning Empress Dowager’s words was unclear. Since returning, he had sat in his chair with his expression unchanged.

Or rather, there had been no expression at all.

The Ning Empress Dowager truly felt at a loss. This son of hers had always been this way. The very idea of making him listen to reason was simply impossible.

There was nothing to be done but continue to persuade him.

“A’Jiu, the consort selection is merely a process performed for the eyes of the world. Even with this procedure in place, the true power of choice will still rest entirely in your hands.”

“It may simply require a few days of reviewing candidates. Think of it as watching a performance — sit and watch the young ladies present themselves, then at the end, choose whichever one pleases you. How does that sound?”

Seeing that he still had no reaction, the Ning Empress Dowager continued. “If none of them pleases you, then we will not select anyone. We will summon another group of young ladies, and keep selecting until one meets your satisfaction. What do you say?”

Still not the faintest response from her son. The Ning Empress Dowager felt a surge of anxiety, and unable to catch her breath, she broke into a fit of violent coughing.

Zhan Qingcheng clasped her wrist, channeling a stream of inner energy into her, and the Empress Dowager’s coughing gradually eased.

“Imperial Mother, has your health not been well lately? Have you had the imperial physicians come to examine and take your pulse?”

“Yes, on the first and fifteenth of each month, the imperial physician comes to take a preventive pulse reading.”

The Ning Empress Dowager nodded, aware that her son still cared for her, and felt a warmth in her heart she could not put into words.

She said gently, “Imperial Mother is simply growing older. Her constitution is not what it was. Examinations and pulse readings are only treatments for the symptoms, not the cause. What can be done when age catches up with you?”

“Imperial Mother is only a little past fifty. What do you mean by ‘growing old?'” Once he saw that her color had improved, Zhan Qingcheng released her wrist.

“Imperial Mother is advancing in years all the same, and does not know how much longer she will be able to look after you.” The Ning Empress Dowager gazed at the strikingly handsome face of the son before her, and the corners of her eyes stung with sudden emotion.

“Imperial Mother wants to see you married, to see you have children, to see a house full of generations.” She exhaled softly, with a trace of quiet longing.

“Look at the eighth prince — he has been married for such a long time already. You and the eighth prince are close in age. How is it that you are still alone to this day?”

“If one day Imperial Mother were to… to be gone, who would look after you?”

As she spoke, a wave of sorrow rose in her chest, and she felt an unexpected urge to weep.

In his lifetime, Zhan Qingcheng held few people in genuine admiration, and fewer still whom he was willing to cherish. But toward the Ning Empress Dowager, he had always been tender. Before Feng Jiu’er had come into his life, the Ning Empress Dowager was the only woman he had ever been willing to cherish — for she had raised him, and had watched over him with love all these years.

Seeing Imperial Mother on the verge of tears, Zhan Qingcheng finally softened for once. “If Imperial Mother wishes to arrange it, this subject-son will comply with the decree.”

“Willing! Of course this Dowager is willing!”

The moment the Ning Empress Dowager heard those words, she brightened at once. Her stubborn son had finally agreed to listen to her — had finally agreed to marry!

“A’Jiu, rest assured. Imperial Mother will oversee your marriage from beginning to end, and will absolutely not do wrong by you.”

“Tell Imperial Mother what kind of young woman A’Jiu favors, and this Dowager will have people search diligently until A’Jiu is satisfied.”

With her spirits lifted, even her complexion seemed to improve. But perhaps from the excitement, she soon began to cough again before long.

Zhan Qingcheng watched with a flicker of concern. “Someone come — summon the imperial physician!”

“No! No need. This Dowager is simply too overjoyed. It will pass in a moment, in just a moment, cough…”

A young palace maid shyly stepped forward and stood beside the Ning Empress Dowager, gently patting her back.

Zhan Qingcheng’s brow furrowed, a trace of displeasure in his voice. “Was she allowed to keep coughing like this all along? Why was the imperial physician not called to examine and prescribe medicine?”

The young palace maid met his cold gaze, and instantly felt a chill shoot down her spine, a cold sweat breaking out at her temples.

He was undeniably handsome and pleasing to look at, but he was only safe to admire from a distance. If he actually looked at you directly, it was enough to frighten someone half to death.

“What does this have to do with Lian’er? This Dowager simply dislikes the smell of medicine. As long as this Dowager devotes herself to her faith and keeps a peaceful heart, her constitution will improve on its own.”

The Ning Empress Dowager shot him a mild look of reproach. “Look at you, frightening poor Lian’er like that. Can you not be a little gentler with the young girl?”

That son of hers — as beautiful as he was, he was far too cold in his manner. Even a single glance from him carried an extreme, icy chill.

Most people simply could not withstand that kind of coldness.

Zhan Qingcheng said nothing. Gentleness — no one had ever taught him what that was.

Moreover, he had done nothing whatsoever to this Lian’er. That she could not withstand the pressure was a matter of her own capability.

“Setting everything else aside, this consort selection — Imperial Mother will begin making preparations for you at once.”

“This subject-son has one condition.” Zhan Qingcheng’s expression remained unchanged. On certain matters, he would not yield easily. “The selection is not to be based on family background or status. Any young woman of appropriate age is to be permitted to participate.”

“This subject-son requires a young woman who is skilled in martial arts. Those who are frail and sickly are not to be considered. The selection is to be conducted primarily through a martial trial, with this subject-son making the final choice personally.”

“A martial trial?” The Ning Empress Dowager was struck speechless. What prince had ever held a consort selection decided solely by martial trial? Would he be bringing home some hulking, rough-mannered woman?

And beyond that, if background and status were to be disregarded, did that not mean even daughters of commoner households could participate?

If one from a lowly background were chosen, would that not affect Ninth Prince’s reputation?

Her son had never cared about such things. But as his mother, how could she not?

Yet Zhan Qingcheng’s stance this time was absolute. “This subject-son wishes to select a woman this subject-son favors — not a young lady approved by Imperial Mother or by anyone else in the imperial family.”