The doors and windows of the Hall of Diligent Governance were tightly shut. The Imperial Guards stood watch outside, and the eunuchs waited in the corridors – all signs of a highly confidential discussion taking place within.
Though perhaps “confidential” wasn’t quite the right word. “Private” might be more fitting, for the conversation was not about matters of state or military affairs, but rather a personal family matter.
The Emperor looked at Duke Jin’an kneeling before him.
“This request of yours is quite unexpected,” the Emperor said. “Was this a sudden impulse?”
Duke Jin’an shook his head.
“No, Your Majesty. It was not a sudden impulse,” he replied.
The Emperor smiled faintly.
“You hid your feelings well all this time, then,” he remarked leisurely.
“I hadn’t given it much thought before,” Duke Jin’an said, seeming to reflect. “I only knew she was a good person, but never considered taking any action.”
He smiled slightly at this point.
“It wasn’t until I heard she was to be married that I felt…”
He reached up and tugged at his collar, as if somewhat embarrassed to continue.
“I see. So, upon hearing of her impending marriage, you did this for her sake…” the Emperor said with a smile.
Much like that young man from the Zhou family.
For her. To rescue her from this predicament. To help her.
Duke Jin’an shook his head again.
“Your Majesty, I did this for myself,” he stated, meeting the Emperor’s gaze frankly. “For Prince Qing.”
The Emperor’s expression showed that this was exactly what he had expected.
“If she were to marry you, would she be able to cure Prince Qing?” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes, his demeanor carrying a hint of coldness.
So, was this something the girl had long schemed for?
Duke Jin’an smiled, a somewhat bitter smile.
“Your Majesty, Lady Cheng does not speak falsely. Prince Qing cannot be cured,” he said.
The Emperor frowned.
“Then why are you doing this?” he asked.
“I am fond of her,” Duke Jin’an replied.
The Emperor was momentarily stunned by these words, then laughed.
Fondness…
There must always be a reason for fondness, right? Beauty? Intelligence? Exceptional skill?
“And I trust her,” Duke Jin’an continued.
Trust?
The Emperor frowned again.
“Although Prince Qing cannot be cured, she is knowledgeable in medicine – or perhaps it’s not just medicine. She once provided a medicinal tea that helped soothe his restlessness and allowed him to sleep peacefully. When she plays the qin, Prince Qing is able to hear it,” Duke Jin’an continued. “But most importantly, in certain circumstances, she possesses the ability to bring the dying back to life.”
At this point, he lifted his head and looked at the Emperor.
The Emperor returned his gaze.
For a moment, the room seemed to fall into silence.
“Wei-lang,” the Emperor finally spoke, “then whom is it that you do not trust?”
The atmosphere in the room grew tense once more.
“Your Majesty, I do not trust Imperial Consort,” Duke Jin’an stated.
The Emperor’s expression remained unreadable, as though he had not heard.
“Nor do I trust Prince Ping,” Duke Jin’an added.
Bang!
The Emperor’s hand slammed heavily onto the desk.
“Jin’an! What is the meaning of this? Are you suggesting that Prince Ping would harm his own brother?” he roared, eyebrows drawn sharply together in anger.
Duke Jin’an showed no trace of fear or unease. He bowed deeply.
“Your Majesty,” he said, “I would not dare.”
“You would not dare? You dare say it but not stand by it?” the Emperor shouted.
Duke Jin’an remained bowed in silence.
The Emperor, still seething with rage, stood up and began pacing back and forth.
“So this is what you truly believe,” he said. “So in your eyes, all your brothers and family are nothing but villains with ill intentions!”
“Jin’an, you have deeply disappointed me!”
“Your Majesty, that is not what I believe,” Duke Jin’an lifted his head and said loudly. “It is only that I am forced to think this way.”
“Forced?! How dare you justify yourself! You harbor such dark suspicions, and you still think you have reason on your side?” the Emperor thundered.
“Your Majesty, I am afraid,” said Duke Jin’an, moving forward on his knees and looking up at the Emperor. “If one day Your Majesty is no longer here, and the Empress Dowager is no longer here, what will become of Prince Qing? In just these past two or three years, what has become of Prince Qing in everyone’s hearts and eyes – surely, Your Majesty, you cannot be unaware?”
“What do you mean, what has become of him? Must everyone constantly surround Prince Qing day in and day out for it to count as caring?” the Emperor retorted angrily. “Jin’an, it was you who asked to leave the palace. What? Did you leave back then just for show, secretly hoping everyone would beg you to stay? And now you hold resentment? What right do you have to resent? Did I ever beg or force you to take care of Prince Qing? If that’s the case, then leave! Let Prince Qing return to the palace – then you’ll see clearly what place Prince Qing holds in everyone’s hearts and eyes!”
Duke Jin’an looked at the furious Emperor, his expression a mix of sorrow and something resembling gladness.
The Emperor finished his tirade, but Duke Jin’an remained silent.
“Speak! What, are you afraid now?” he shouted.
Duke Jin’an shook his head.
“I am afraid,” he said.
He shook his head, yet said “I am afraid”?
“Your Majesty is so good to Prince Qing – so good that it frightens me,” Duke Jin’an continued. “I am afraid that one day this kindness will no longer be there…”
The Emperor was so furious that his eyes widened. He strode forward and pointed a finger at Duke Jin’an.
“You wretched boy! Did you come here today to curse me? I’m not dead yet! Why are you mourning already?” he shouted through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, Duke Jin’an reached out and clung to the Emperor’s legs.
“I am just afraid!” he cried out. “I am just afraid! Who told you to be so good to me and to Prince Qing! Who told you to be so good to me and Prince Qing! Only you are so good to me and Prince Qing! That’s why I am afraid!”
The Emperor had never been clung to like this before. He was both shocked and uncomfortable.
“You foolish boy!” He tried to shake him off.
But Duke Jin’an held on tightly, refusing to let go.
“If I call the guards in now, the Imperial Guards will cut you down on the spot!” the Emperor roared.
“Then let them cut me down! At least then I would be at peace, no longer afraid. It’s not like I’ve never faced death before – back in the mountain fortress, I wasn’t afraid at all. I knew that even if I died, as long as you were here, everything would be fine,” Duke Jin’an said, holding on even tighter and not letting go.
The Emperor was both annoyed and… stirred by some indescribable feeling as the duke clung to him.
There were few children in the palace, and by the time they arrived, he was already older. Each child was so precious and fragile that he hardly dared to touch them. Merely seeing them daily and exchanging a few words counted as the closest form of father-son intimacy.
Although Duke Jin’an was the earliest among the children raised in the palace, when he first arrived, he was young, homesick, and prone to crying. The Empress Dowager had soothed him, and whenever he saw the Emperor, he would shrink back like a mouse spotting a cat. As he grew older and understood more, he was no longer afraid, but always remained respectful. Later, when he became more familiar and at ease in the palace, he began to show a childlike innocence – laughing, joking, and even daring to act sly in front of the Emperor. But he had never once thrown a tantrum like this…
This was undoubtedly a tantrum.
Yet throwing a tantrum was also a form of trust and dependence.
Only, the one throwing the tantrum was no longer a child.
The Emperor couldn’t hold back a sudden chuckle, but quickly forced his expression back into sternness.
“What kind of behavior is this!” he scolded. “You’re about to be married – you’re not a child anymore. How can you act like this!”
“As long as Your Majesty is here, I will always be a child,” Duke Jin’an said.
The Emperor found himself caught between laughter and exasperation as he looked down at Duke Jin’an.
This duke had left his own princely household at a young age and grew distant from his biological family. Even within the palace, he had few people he was truly close to. Indeed, apart from the Emperor himself, there was hardly anyone else the young duke could rely on. Coupled with the recent peril he had faced in Maoping – though he had spoken of it lightly, the danger must have been real…
He must have been terrified.
Everyone else revered him, feared him, or sought to curry favor with him. But no one had ever truly depended on him like this.
And then there was Prince Qing…
Prince Qing…
“…In just these past two or three years, what has become of Prince Qing in everyone’s hearts and eyes – surely, Your Majesty, you cannot be unaware?”
The Emperor sighed inwardly.
Of course he was aware.
“Get away from me,” he scolded, frowning down at the duke. “Once you’re married, take your wife and get out of the capital. Don’t let me see you again.”
Duke Jin’an looked up in surprise, as though he hadn’t quite processed the Emperor’s words at first. After a moment of stunned silence, his face broke into a radiant smile, and he immediately released the Emperor and sprang to his feet.
“Thank you, Your Majesty!” he exclaimed, then added with a grin, “But I won’t leave. I plan to stay in the capital.”
The Emperor glared at him in annoyance.
“Get out,” he snapped.
Duke Jin’an bowed with a grin and took his leave.
He had only taken two steps when the Emperor called out to him again.
“As for the Empress Dowager, you go and explain it to her yourself. Don’t think I’ll take the scolding for you.”
Duke Jin’an bowed once more, acknowledged the order, and quickly withdrew.
Only then did the eunuch, who had been standing as inconspicuously as a shadow in the corner, step forward.
“I never imagined it would end like this,” the Emperor said, shaking his head.
“Your Majesty, this is actually for the best,” the eunuch replied with a faint smile.
If Lady Cheng were to truly marry into the Gao family, it would certainly not be a cause for celebration for the Emperor. Initially, there had been about a fifty-fifty chance that Lady Cheng would not marry into the Gao family, but with Gao Lingjun’s return, that chance had significantly diminished.
The Emperor had to admit a certain admiration for Gao Lingjun. The man had a way of making it difficult to dislike him – his actions and words were always so considerate and fitting.
Yet, consideration aside, the Gao family already wielded considerable power. Adding a bold, daring, and highly capable woman like Lady Cheng to their ranks would create a force that even the Emperor might struggle to control in the long run. And what about his younger successor? Would he be able to manage them?
If Lady Cheng were to align with the Zhou family instead, that would also be problematic. With the Empress Dowager involved, the resulting conflict would be irreconcilable. Both the Zhou and Cheng families would be forced to leave the capital, leaving the Gao family’s influence even more dominant.
Now, with Duke Jin’an in the picture, the situation had changed entirely. The Empress Dowager would not easily drive him away, nor was he someone who could be easily dismissed. Moreover, by marrying Lady Cheng, he would effectively create a rift with the Gao family, ensuring that the Gaos and Lady Cheng would never join forces. For the young successor, this was undoubtedly a favorable outcome.
A faint smile touched the Emperor’s lips.
Perhaps this young man’s deliberate display of dramatics and clinging was his way of offering a solution to this dilemma?
When it came to thoughtfulness, Duke Jin’an was certainly considerate – and he was also remarkably perceptive, both in matters of court and in understanding people’s hearts.
He truly was an outstanding young man…
It was just a pity he wasn’t of the Emperor’s own blood…
So, Lady Cheng marrying him was quite fitting. Having such a person become estranged and even antagonistic toward the Gao family would also be a good thing for the young successor.
This was the art of maintaining balance.
The Emperor turned and walked back toward the dragon throne.
Affection certainly existed, but one who sat in this position could not afford to be ruled by emotion.
Walking briskly along the palace path, Duke Jin’an no longer wore the clingy, joyful expression he had shown earlier in front of the Emperor. His face had returned to the grim darkness he reserved for when he was alone.
“Congratulations, Your Highness,” the eunuch following closely behind said in a low voice. “As expected, when you take action, you never miss.”
A faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered at the corner of Duke Jin’an’s mouth, then vanished.
“When everyone gets what they want, success is naturally assured,” he said.
Everyone gets what they want – it was merely a matter of mutual benefit.
That was true for Gao Lingbo, for the Cheng family, for the Zhou family, for the imperial family – indeed, for everyone in this world.
The only difference lay in how one went about obtaining it, and whether, after obtaining it, one could remain true to their original intentions.
The eunuch bowed his head and quickened his pace to keep up.
A few eunuchs approached from the opposite direction. Upon seeing Duke Jin’an, they promptly stepped aside, halted, and bowed.
“Congratulations, Your Highness,” one of them said with a smile.
Duke Jin’an paused mid-step.
“Her Majesty the Empress offers her congratulations to Your Highness…” the eunuch said, smiling again as he looked up at Duke Jin’an with a meaningful expression. “…on having your wish fulfilled.”
A smile spread across Duke Jin’an’s face.
“I wonder when we might be able to offer our congratulations to Her Majesty the Empress?” he asked abruptly.
The eunuch smiled and lowered his head.
“Soon,” he replied.
Duke Jin’an said nothing more and resumed walking. The eunuchs bowed respectfully as they watched him stride briskly toward the Empress Dowager’s palace.
“Will Her Majesty the Empress Dowager agree?” one eunuch could not help but whisper.
The eunuch who had spoken earlier straightened up and gave a faint smile.
“If he could even persuade the Emperor, the Empress Dowager will be easier to win over,” he said. “It’s only a matter of a few words, after all.”
…
“You just said you wouldn’t marry for Prince Qing’s sake, and now this? Are you making a fool of me?”
“Your Majesty! This is still for Prince Qing’s sake.”
Duke Jin’an moved forward on his knees.
“I will never abandon Liu Ge’er in this lifetime. I will always stay with Liu Ge’er.”
“I don’t expect her to cure Liu Ge’er. I only wish for a wife who, like me, can sincerely and wholeheartedly care for Liu Ge’er without disdain.”
“Others fear Liu Ge’er, they look down on him. Even if they can pretend not to fear or disdain him for a while, they cannot keep up the act for a lifetime.”
“Only she is not afraid of Liu Ge’er. Only she does not look down on him – because she herself was once a fool. No one in this world understands Liu Ge’er better than she does!”
“Your Majesty, there is no one else like her in this world.”
Indeed, someone who was fool for over a decade and then recovered – such a person truly could not be found anywhere else.
The Empress Dowager felt a pang of melancholy.
Yes, who else could genuinely care for Liu Ge’er without disdain, like she and the Emperor did?
Even a filial son may neglect a long-ill parent, let alone someone with no blood ties. Such is human nature – one cannot be too harsh, nor force what isn’t there, nor deceive oneself.
“I beg Your Majesty to grant this wish.”
The Empress Dowager looked down at the pleading young man before her.
To grant his wish was also to grant her own – to transform this seeming folly into the earnest care of a loving elder.
“Rise. I shall consider it as hiring a nursemaid for Liu Ge’er.”
