Thunder rumbled on and on, accompanied by flashes of lightning, and the rain grew heavier and heavier while the sky grew darker and darker.
Just as the hearts of the gathered officials grew as heavy as that darkened sky, footsteps at last rang out. Duke Dingguo felt a measure of relief — but as the figure gradually came into view, the lightness on his face had barely registered before it fell away entirely.
“By His Majesty’s verbal decree: the Emperor has already ordered the Commander of the Imperial Guard, Fu Gang, to conduct a thorough investigation into the Zhaoli remnants. His Majesty is suffering from a minor ailment and should not be exposed to the wind. Let all the officials withdraw.”
Duke Dingguo rose to his feet and fixed his gaze on the palace attendant who had come to deliver the verbal decree — a eunuch by the name of Chang. “This attendant is quite unfamiliar to me.”
The eunuch Chang’s hand instinctively curled into a fist and then released — a movement the Duke of Anguo, who had been watching him closely, did not miss. “This servant was recently summoned to attend by His Majesty, so it is not strange that Duke Dingguo has not seen this servant before, given that the Duke does not come to court often.”
“I see.” Duke Dingguo gave a slight nod. “Nevertheless, this official has concerns regarding a matter of imperial succession — a matter of grave importance that cannot afford delay. I would ask Attendant Chang to relay my request. If His Majesty should not be exposed to the wind, this old official will simply go to him instead.”
“This…”
“Hmm?” Duke Dingguo raised one of his long, sweeping eyebrows, and that single syllable somehow carried a rising and falling cadence all its own.
Attendant Chang took a step back, bowing in a manner that held a note of flustered unease. “This servant will go and relay the message at once.”
The sound of footsteps faded into the distance. Duke Dingguo gave a quiet sound of disdain. “So unsteady — not half as composed as Laifu.”
The Duke of Anguo cupped his hands toward him in a bow of acknowledgment. “Duke Dingguo’s observation is apt.”
Duke Dingguo paid him no attention, clasped his hands behind his back, closed his eyes, and waited in stillness. The others exchanged glances; the Fourth Imperial Prince made a subtle gesture to someone nearby, and that person spoke up: “In that case, should we not follow His Majesty’s verbal decree and withdraw?”
By rights, that was indeed the proper course — the Emperor had issued a verbal decree, and there was no longer any cause for them to remain. Someone gave a bow to the assembled company and said: “There are pressing matters to attend to at the yamen. This official will take his leave first.”
With someone taking the lead, others began to drift away one by one — yet the Emperor still did not appear. Nothing more than a verbal word from a palace attendant they did not know or trust — and a single sentence at that — was not enough to dispel the unease in most of their hearts. People lingered, finding reasons to delay, and still did not leave.
The Third Imperial Prince let his gaze drift between the Fourth and the Sixth, then turned and left, his hands clasped behind his back.
The Fourth Imperial Prince moved closer to the Sixth. “Care to leave together?”
The Sixth Imperial Prince’s expression did not change. “The rain is too heavy. I’ll wait here a little while before going.”
“A spring rain like this won’t let up anytime soon. I have a spare rain cover — let me lend it to you.”
“Many thanks to the Fourth Imperial Brother, but I’m in no hurry.”
The Fourth Imperial Prince gave a small laugh and nodded. “I know you’re worried about Father. Very well — you stay and wait. I’ll go request an audience with Mother to see if I can get in. Don’t worry — if I learn anything of Father’s condition, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Then I thank the Fourth Imperial Brother.”
With those brotherly and harmonious words of parting, the moment each had turned away, the smiles fell from both their faces. The Sixth Imperial Prince carefully turned over every word and gesture the Fourth Imperial Brother had just displayed, while on the other side, the Fourth Imperial Prince’s brow furrowed — had there truly been Zhaoli remnants in the palace? Or had someone fabricated this? No — he had to get inside the palace.
Another half hour or so passed before Attendant Chang returned. “Clan Patriarch, this servant has relayed the message. His Majesty says he does not wish to attend to any of these matters at present, and that all matters concerning the imperial clan are now entirely at the Clan Patriarch’s discretion.”
“Please trouble Attendant Chang to make one more trip. As this matter concerns the imperial princes, this old official cannot act unilaterally — it requires His Majesty’s direct instruction.”
Attendant Chang looked at him, bowed, and withdrew.
Night fell. Palace servants came in to light the lamps.
More people had slipped away from the side hall, and those who remained were mostly those with ties to the Duke of Anguo, Duke Dingguo, or the Sixth Imperial Prince. Among this group, Wei Rongrong of the Wei Family stood out conspicuously.
As though sensing the gazes that had settled on him, Wei Jing straightened his sleeves and made his way toward the door. The Sixth Imperial Prince happened to be standing very near the entrance to the hall; as Wei Rongrong passed by him, he cupped his hands in a bow.
The Sixth Imperial Prince startled slightly, then quickly read the situation and reached out to steady him by the hand. “The steps have been slicked by a bit of rain. Do take care, Senior Official Wei.”
“This old official would not dare accept such consideration.” Despite saying he would not dare, there was nothing in Wei Rongrong’s manner to suggest any such reluctance — he allowed himself to be steadied across the threshold, then withdrew his hand and offered a bow. “The Sixth Highness is most gracious.”
The Sixth Imperial Prince raised his hand in a courteous farewell, and with that the two parted ways, maintaining the distance that would be expected between two opposing factions. Yet that steadying gesture of the Sixth Imperial Prince’s actually sat quite well with these officials who were no longer young — even if the one helped was not themselves, it at least showed that the Sixth Highness had respect in his heart for his elders.
But the officials’ attention remained fixed on the situation in the palace, and in no time their minds had turned elsewhere. The Sixth Imperial Prince watched with a sideways glance at those nearby, then let his left hand drift, in an apparently absent motion, across the sash at his waist.
No one spoke. Only the sound of rain could be heard.
Every heart was weighted down — with speculation about what was happening deep within the palace, with thoughts of which side to align with, with worry for what lay ahead for the kingdom of Daqing.
“If only the Shizi were here.”
Someone murmured under their breath — and yet the words gave voice to what everyone was thinking. Indeed — if the Shizi were here, what palace gate could bar him, and how could things have been allowed to reach this state?
Footsteps rang out again. Duke Dingguo listened for only a moment, then closed his eyes — a single set of steps: it could not be the Emperor.
“Clan Patriarch, His Majesty says he will see no one today. This matter is postponed for further deliberation.” Attendant Chang kept his head lowered, as though afraid of being seized again for delivering a message, and even as the last word left his lips, he was already backing away.
Duke Dingguo took no notice of him. After a moment of silence, he looked out at the assembled company. “Everyone may as well return.”
The Duke of Anguo grew anxious. “But His Majesty…”
“What would you have us do? Stake the lives of every member of the Anguo Ducal Household — hundreds of people — to defy an imperial decree?”
Silence fell over the entire hall.
The Sixth Imperial Prince gave a quiet cough. “Duke Dingguo speaks reasonably. Everyone should return.”
Though the imperial prince was young, his standing was what it was — the officials cupped their hands in bows, and one by one they departed. The Sixth Imperial Prince walked out last.
In the long corridor, he stood for a long while gazing in the direction of the inner palace to the north before he finally turned to leave. He was not concerned with what had become of his Imperial Father. He only wanted to know that his grandmother was safe.
Once he was in the carriage, the Sixth Imperial Prince drew out from the sash at his waist a piece of paper folded into a neat square. At the time, when Wei Cong Wen had cupped his hands, he had deliberately tilted his palm slightly toward him, revealing the slip of paper hidden within. As he reached out to steady the older man, he had taken it. Though he did not know what the man intended, he understood that given the standing of their respective factions, for Wei Cong Wen to do such a thing was enormously risky. Yet his master had once said: when a situation reaches a complete deadlock, it is acceptable to trust one’s own instincts to a degree. And his instinct at the time had been that Wei Cong Wen was trying to tell him something.
On the slip of paper was only a single address. Not one extra word.
The west side of the city?
The Sixth Imperial Prince lifted the curtain. “To the Shizi Manor.”
Hua Zhi was not surprised by his arrival. That he had held himself back this long before coming was already more restrained than she had expected.
“You haven’t eaten yet, I imagine. Nian Qiu — go and prepare something.”
“Yes.”
Despite the crisis that still hung over everything, the Sixth Imperial Prince found both body and mind gradually relaxing the moment he stepped inside. He passed the slip of paper to Hua Zhi and described in detail the circumstances under which Wei Cong Wen had handed it over.
Hua Zhi nodded. “A bit of a risk — but given how unfavorably things stand for us right now, taking a risk or two hardly matters.”
Looking at the address written on the paper, Hua Zhi called Chen Qing in. “Go and investigate. Do not act rashly.”
“Yes.”