Cheng Si-lang threw down the scroll in his hand and stood up, pacing back and forth in anger.
“Young Master, the exam is coming up soon – please don’t panic,” the study servant said anxiously.
“I’m not panicking, I’m just furious,” Cheng Si-lang said.
“But Young Master, didn’t First Young Lady tell you to focus on your studies, that she’ll be fine?” the servant reminded him.
Cheng Si-lang stopped in his tracks.
“And what if she isn’t fine?” he said angrily. “Even if she’s heartbroken, she’d never tell anyone. But who wouldn’t be upset over something like this?”
“Then… what can we do?” the servant asked timidly.
Yes – what could he do?
Cheng Si-lang began pacing again.
“Anyway, I’ll testify for her. I’ll keep a close eye on everything. When Jiao-niang gets married, they won’t get to keep a single bit of her property. If they try to go back on their word – then, then I won’t let it go!” he said, stopping in his tracks.
Yes, he must keep watch. If they dared to go back on their word…
He had to study – had to pass the exams and earn an official rank! Then he could stand up for his sister!
Cheng Si-lang strode back to the desk, sat down, and picked up his scroll again.
The study servant let out a sigh of relief and was just about to tiptoe away when he saw Cheng Si-lang suddenly sit bolt upright again.
“No,” Cheng Si-lang said.
“What is it now, Young Master?” the servant asked helplessly.
“I’d better write to Father first,” Cheng Si-lang said.
…
“Master.”
Second Madam Cheng hurried in, calling out.
Seeing no sign of Second Master Cheng in the main hall, she quickly went into the inner room.
Second Master Cheng was lounging lazily, two young maids kneading his legs.
Second Madam Cheng waved her hand, and the maids immediately withdrew.
“Si-lang actually wrote a letter to Jiang-zhou – it must be about this matter,” she said, kneeling down.
Second Master Cheng didn’t even lift his eyelids.
“So what?” he asked.
“Once they know, do you think they’ll just sit by and let us take advantage of this?” Second Madam Cheng said.
Second Master Cheng chuckled.
“Won’t let us? And what can he do if he won’t?” He opened his eyes. “Does he dare come and snatch it? Don’t forget, in name it’s yours and mine – but in truth, it’s hers… Haven’t they had enough of reaping the benefits of her dowry already?”
That was true. Second Madam Cheng let out a breath of relief, her expression brightening with delight.
“No one thinks things through like you do, Master,” she said admiringly, then called for the maids outside to come back in and massage his legs and shoulders.
With a trace of smugness, Second Master Cheng closed his eyes, humming a little tune as he tapped his knee in rhythm, utterly at ease.
The matter of a few shops in the capital changing their registered owners was, after all, someone’s private family affair – outsiders wouldn’t know and wouldn’t care. But for those who paid attention, they learned of it the very first moment.
“Second Master Cheng certainly moves fast,” Attendant Scholar Gao said with a smile.
“Night long, dreams many,” one of his aides replied with a grin. “This time that Lady Cheng has really suffered a dumb loss – she’s got no way to complain even if she wanted to.”
“She brought it upon herself,” Attendant Scholar Gao said. “Who told her not to think things through from the start, to boldly and carelessly sign her own name? Arrogant and conceited – she has no one to blame but herself.”
“And indeed, she can’t blame anyone else,” another aide added with a laugh. “It’s all perfectly proper by law and reason.”
“Exactly – it’s all proper and justified. That puts my mind at ease,” Attendant Scholar Gao said, sitting up. “While I’m away from the capital, there are only two important things you all must see to.”
Seeing his expression turn solemn, the aides and trusted subordinates present immediately straightened up to listen attentively.
“First,” Attendant Scholar Gao said, “take advantage of the current disaster relief efforts to send Duke Jin’an out of the capital.”
“Second, after the third month, petition for the establishment of the Crown Prince.”
The aides and subordinates all answered respectfully, “Yes, my lord.”
“My lord, are you truly leaving on the twenty-third?” one subordinate asked, looking up with reluctance in his eyes. “Why not wait until after the Beginning of Spring? The weather’s so bitterly cold – it pains us to think of you traveling in such conditions.”
Attendant Scholar Gao burst out laughing.
“If others are feeling comfortable, then I shouldn’t be,” he said with a grin. Then, after a pause, he added, “Also, keep an eye on Prince Ping and on Her Highness the Imperial Consort in the palace. If there’s anyone I can’t quite feel at ease about, it’s them – especially Her Highness.”
The first month of the new year was not yet over when Attendant Scholar Gao -demoted and sent to a provincial post for delaying disaster relief and causing civil unrest – indeed left the capital.
His departure was sudden and subdued; only a few close relatives and friends came to see him off – one carriage, a handful of attendants.
“Pitiful?” the Emperor asked with a hum.
The Imperial Consort, who had been dabbing at her tears, stiffened at once.
“Pitiful? Hardly! Think of those commoners driven from their homes by the disaster –they’re the ones to be pitied,” she said indignantly. “At least he had enough sense not to turn his departure into a grand parade with drums and gongs!”
The Emperor chuckled.
“It’s all because he’s been in high office too long, out of touch with the people,” he said with a sigh.
“Indeed,” the Imperial Consort agreed. “This time, letting him go out there will do him good – he’ll learn what the people’s hardships are like, and understand how difficult Your Majesty’s burden truly is.”
The Emperor laughed again.
“Listen to you – one would think he were your enemy, not your kin,” he said. “Can you really bear to send him away?”
“Your Majesty,” the Imperial Consort replied, “it’s because he’s my kin that I’m all the more furious. He’s my own family – I’ve staked my hopes on him to bring honor and distinction to us. And yet he’s gone and caused such a scandal! The shame isn’t his alone – it falls on me, and on Your Majesty as well. People will whisper in private that the emperor shows favoritism, that he indulges his relatives. We’re dragged into it for no reason at all – I’m livid!”
The Emperor smiled, then sighed.
“I only hope,” he said, “that he can understand my good intentions.”
Seeing the Emperor’s smiling face, the Imperial Consort felt a surge of satisfaction. She thought of how Attendant Scholar Gao had especially warned her before leaving not to plead for him – did he take her for a fool?
Did he really think she didn’t know when to say what? Had all her years in the palace taught her nothing?
Just then, the Emperor asked whether Prince Ping had come by.
“No,” the Imperial Consort said, “I don’t even know what he’s so busy with. I’ve sent for him several times, but they all say he’s occupied – and then he even complained about me, saying I was breaking protocol by summoning him to the palace whenever I pleased. I was so angry I decided to ignore him altogether.”
The Emperor laughed heartily.
“That child is a bit stiff,” he said, “but a little strictness about rules isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
It’s the ones who don’t follow the rules that Your Majesty should really watch out for, the Imperial Consort thought to herself.
Of course, she couldn’t say such a thing aloud – but she was sure the Emperor already had his own thoughts on the matter.
“Your Majesty should teach him more often,” she said with a smile.
“Of course,” the Emperor replied with a laugh.
Seeing that he was in good spirits, the Imperial Consort gave a discreet signal to one of the palace maids.
“Your Majesty, Your Grace – the evening meal is ready,” the maid promptly stepped forward to announce.
The Emperor nodded and was just about to speak when a palace maid hurried in from outside.
“Your Majesty, Consort An isn’t feeling well. The imperial doctor has been summoned -she asks that Your Majesty come and see her,” the maid said.
At those words, the Imperial Consort’s face changed color. Sure enough, the Emperor immediately rose to his feet without a moment’s hesitation.
“How could she suddenly be unwell again?” he said with a frown, while ordering his attendants to prepare his carriage.
Watching the Emperor and his entourage hurry off, the noble consort knew he wouldn’t be coming back tonight. Furious, she swept the golden cup off the table, sending it clattering to the floor.
“Always using this trick – she’d better be careful her words don’t turn into a curse,” she said coldly.
“Your Grace… the imperial doctor already said that Consort An’s child is a prince,” the maid whispered.
The Imperial Consort gave a sharp snort.
“So what if it’s a prince?” she said. “When I was carrying a prince, the Empress still ruled the harem – did I ever throw such tantrums?”
“How could Consort An ever compare to Your Grace?” the maid said quickly.
The Imperial Consort gave a cold snort.
The maid glanced around nervously.
“Speak plainly – what’s all this sneaking about?” the Imperial Consort snapped, glaring at her.
“Your Grace… it’s just that some people are saying this prince Consort An is carrying is no ordinary child,” the maid said in a low voice.
The Imperial Consort let out a derisive laugh.
“A prince, a dragon’s heir – of course he’s ‘no ordinary child,’” she said mockingly. “As if she were some common woman from the streets, playing at such nonsense inside the palace – honestly…”
“Your Grace, they say that when Consort An conceived, she dreamed of the Taibai entering her womb,” the maid whispered.
The Taibai entering her womb…
The Imperial consort sat bolt upright and slammed the golden cup down onto the table.
“Bah!” she spat. Her brows arched sharply. “She really dares to say that?!”
Meanwhile, on the other side of the palace, Consort An knelt down, tears glimmering in her almond-shaped eyes as she reached out to clutch the Emperor’s sleeve.
“Your Majesty, I swear it wasn’t I who said such things,” she choked out. “I’ve never spoken those words. I only lament that my health is weak – carrying the child has left me constantly unwell, and because of that… people have started whispering behind my back…”
“What gossip could there be about poor health?” the Emperor said with a frown. Looking at Consort An’s tear-streaked face – so delicate, like pear blossoms in the rain – and then at the faintly rounded swell of her belly, he reached out and took her hand.
“Come, stand up.”
Consort An rose, still weeping, and murmured her thanks.
“It’s only because I’m too fragile that people mock me behind my back, calling me precious and spoiled – that’s why there’s such talk, saying the child I carry is some extraordinary one. Your Majesty, I could never dare think such a thing,” she said between sobs.
But… what was there not to dare?
Could my own bloodline be descended from the stars themselves?
The thought flashed through the Emperor’s mind – though of course, it was not something he could ever say aloud.
“All right now,” the Emperor said, patting Consort An reassuringly. “You can’t control what others say, but surely you can control the people in your own quarters. Keep your attendants in line, and those rumors will die out on their own.”
Consort An nodded obediently.
“Your Majesty isn’t angry with me?” she asked softly, her voice sweet and delicate.
The Emperor laughed heartily.
“Angry? Over something like this? What would there be to be angry about?” he said with a knowing smile, placing his hand on her belly. “The blood of the Son of Heaven is noble by nature!”
“I think so too,” Consort An said with a gentle laugh, resting her own hand over his. “This child is really hard to tend – he’s been giving me no end of trouble.”
The Emperor laughed again, delighted.
Consort An then ordered the meal to be served. The atmosphere at the table grew cheerful, and she even fed the Emperor two cups of wine herself. Just as the room was filled with warmth and laughter, a eunuch suddenly rushed in, flustered and pale.
“Your Majesty – Your Majesty, an urgent dispatch!” he said, bowing as he presented a document sealed with the Imperial Archives’s emergency mark.
An urgent report – at this hour?
“From where?” the Emperor asked.
“From Maoping Road, Your Majesty,” the eunuch said, head lowered.
Maoping!
The Emperor’s heart sank – he already sensed it could be nothing good. After a brief hesitation, he reached out to take the report, opened it, and upon reading, his face froze. The next instant, his body swayed, and he nearly collapsed.
“Your Majesty!” Consort An cried out in alarm, rushing to support him.
The maids and eunuchs on both sides hurried forward in panic.
The Emperor forced himself to sit upright, waving a trembling hand to signal that he was all right, opening his mouth to speak – but as soon as he did, a mouthful of blood burst forth.
A piercing scream split the night sky over the palace.
