The rain had stopped, leaving a brilliantly clear sky. Only the lingering drips from the eaves still whispered of the fierce storm that had just swept through.
Inside the Emperor’s bedchamber, the atmosphere was far more crowded and restless than in Prince Ping’s side hall. Although not every minister who had been deliberating in the Hall of Diligent Governance could ordinarily enter the inner palace bedchamber, all of them now crowded anxiously within.
What had just happened was too horrifying – even now, they could scarcely believe it.
From deeper in the chamber came the muffled sobs of women and children.
As Chen Shao entered, everyone hurried over to him.
“His Highness Prince Ping, he…” the leading official began to inquire.
Chen Shao answered with a face ashen with fury.
“…We still cannot just leave him there like this…” the official swiftly changed tack.
No prince before had ever died so gruesomely and then been left discarded in such a manner.
“Wait for His Majesty’s decision,” Chen Shao said, glancing toward the inner chamber. “How is His Majesty?”
“Your Majesty, Lady Cheng has arrived.”
At these words, the empress, who had been bowing her head to wipe away tears, looked up. Duke Jin’an standing beside her also turned his gaze.
“Admit her,” the Empress commanded.
The curtain was drawn aside, and a lady entered with her head bowed.
“I pay my respects…” She knelt properly, preparing to perform the formal greeting.
“Forget the formalities for now,” the Empress interrupted. “Come quickly and see – how is His Majesty?”
Responding with a soft affirmation, Cheng Jiao-niang lifted her head, her gaze meeting that of the Empress who was watching her.
So this is that Lady Cheng, the Empress thought to herself.
Truly, she lives up to being a disciple of an immortal.
Cheng Jiao-niang immediately averted her eyes, lowered her head again, and stepped forward. The imperial doctors who had been standing by the Emperor’s bed promptly made way for her.
The consorts and young princesses ceased their weeping, watching Cheng Jiao-niang with palpable tension.
Cheng Jiao-niang first observed the Emperor’s complexion, then reached out to take his pulse.
Doctor Li stood closest, intently watching her every move. Unlike the others in the chamber who were unfamiliar with her, he was no stranger – he had been present at her very first medical consultation in the capital.
Back then, this young lady had been quite different. She had treated Old Master Chen with detached nonchalance, barely bothering with any change of expression.
But now she examined with deep concentration, her face reflecting a complex array of emotions.
Could she truly have a cure?
It really is Wind-stroke.
The historical records noted that Emperor Zhongzong had suffered a sudden Wind-stroke attack during a court assembly this very year, remaining bedridden for one year before passing.
How fascinating – some things change, while others remain eerily the same.
Cheng Jiao-niang gazed at the unconscious Emperor, then lowered her head and placed her fingers on his wrist.
A beating pulse. Warm, soft skin. A living, breathing person.
“Fell ill, died the following year.” Cold, lifeless words.
Behind that single character for “ill” lay all the grief, terror, anxiety, and turmoil now hidden from sight. Future readers would encounter and feel only those words, utterly unable to grasp what it was like to actually be here, living through it.
A heartless and yet inevitable truth.
Her own Cheng clan had been exterminated. Presumably, the histories would also record it. Something like: “The Cheng clan plotted treason, the clan was extinguished…”
Cheng Jiao-niang lifted her hand and counted on her fingers.
Some characters. To leave characters in the historical records was already quite an achievement.
Just a few characters. Simple, unadorned. Cold and desolate.
A heavy, deliberate cough sounded in her ear. Cheng Jiao-niang looked up to see Doctor Li glaring at her.
“Lady Cheng, what is your assessment?” he demanded.
“It is Wind-stroke,” Cheng Jiao-niang stated.
“Can you cure it?” Doctor Li pressed urgently.
Cheng Jiao-niang shook her head.
“I cannot,” she said.
She answered that rather bluntly.
“Lady Cheng,” a consort could not help but cry out, “if His Majesty’s Wind-stroke leaves him unable to wake, it is certainly a fatal illness. How can you say you cannot treat it?”
“Because my master specifically never taught me how to treat Wind-stroke,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
They had expected her to cite some medical principle or explain a professional limitation. No one anticipated this as the reason.
Everyone present was taken aback.
She simply doesn’t know how….
Then there truly was no hope at all.
As for whether she truly couldn’t or was merely pretending…
Wails rose once more within the chamber. The sound prompted ministers like Chen Shao to ignore all protocol and rush inside, no longer observing the usual decorum of withdrawing from the inner chambers.
Upon learning that the crying stemmed from Lady Cheng declaring the illness untreatable, and not from the Emperor having…
The faces of the officials relaxed slightly. Yet, as they looked upon the still-unconscious emperor, their expressions grew heavy once again.
With Wind-stroke, the sooner the patient regains consciousness, the greater the hope. But if he remains in a coma…
The atmosphere in the chamber shifted abruptly once more.
A nation cannot go a single day without its sovereign.
But now the Emperor lay insensible, and the Crown Prince, Prince Ping, who should have been able to assume governance, had been reduced to charred remains by a lightning strike. Who would act as regent?
No, the regency was actually the lesser concern. The paramount issue was the successor.
“Trouble! There’s terrible trouble!”
A shout from outside suddenly shattered the heavy silence within.
A eunuch rushed in, flustered and breathless.
“Master Gao has forced his way into the palace!”
Master Gao!
The faces of Chen Shao and the others changed dramatically. They immediately turned and hurried out.
“Father! Father!”
A voice, hoarse and desperate, echoed in his ears. Young Master Gao scrambled and stumbled, grabbing at the hem of Gao Lingjun’s robes.
“Father! Father! His Highness Prince Ping… His Highness Prince Ping…”
He sobbed and wailed, his voice ragged, his entire appearance one of utter wretchedness.
His Highness Prince Ping…
His Highness Prince Ping…
Gao Lingjun stepped forward, one heavy pace after another, entering the side hall. His gaze fell upon the young man lying alone on the couch.
His body trembled. His outstretched hand trembled too.
“Master! Master! Her Ladyship is pregnant!”
The joyful words echoed in his ears.
“This is truly wonderful news. Her Ladyship has finally conceived a royal heir.”
Yes, it was wonderful news. Imperial Consort was carrying the Emperor’s child. Once born, it would be the Emperor’s first son.
From Empress Dowager to Imperial Consort – the closest kin of two successive Emperors.
A royal in-law? So what? Even if people mocked him for rising through a woman’s favor, so what?
A royal in-law could also achieve meritorious deeds, bring honor to his ancestors, and establish a legacy of his own.
He, Gao Lingjun, possessed exceptional talent and grand ambitions for the state and its people. Must he be forever constrained, ridiculed at every step, forced to abandon his aspirations and resign himself to being a mere parasite among the imperial relatives, simply because of this identity?
There were many kinds of imperial in-laws. What Gao Lingjun aimed for was what those of the past had failed to accomplish.
He sought power, influence, and also renown.
He had succeeded. Through decades of vicissitudes, he had remained unwavering.
Those who schemed against him, those who obstructed his path – they had fallen, one by one.
Those who clamored for the expulsion of a “treacherous courtier” like him – they had become stepping stones beneath his feet, one after another.
Step by step. The pinnacle of the lofty tower was now within reach.
“…Master! Master! Disaster! His Highness Prince Ping… is dead…!”
Nonsense! Nonsense!
How could His Highness Prince Ping be dead!
His Highness Prince Ping could not possibly die!
Gao Lingjun reached out and grasped the shoulders of Prince Ping lying before him.
“Your Highness! Your Highness! Get up quickly!” he shouted, shaking the prince, his voice growing louder and more frantic. “Get up! Get up now!”
The chaotic sound of running footsteps erupted outside the door.
“Gao Lingjun! What are you doing?” Chen Shao’s voice rang out from beyond the door.
Before Gao Lingjun could respond, a woman’s sharp scream pierced the air outside.
“Your Ladyship! Your Ladyship!”
Chen Shao’s voice instantly turned urgent, as if trying to dissuade someone.
His words had barely fallen when someone charged straight in.
“Si Ge’er! Si Ge’er!”
As soon as the Imperial Consort caught sight of the scene, she let out a piercing scream, burst into loud sobs, and threw herself forward.
“Si Ge’er! Si Ge’er, what has happened to you?” She knelt on the floor, clutching Prince Ping tightly, her hands stroking the face that was now unrecognizable, pressing her own cheek against it without hesitation. “Get up, get up. Don’t frighten me like this, don’t frighten me!”
The sight of the distraught Imperial Consort seemed to calm Gao Lingjun. He raised his head and looked at Chen Shao and the other ministers now standing in the doorway.
“Can I not come to mourn my nephew?” he said slowly.
Chen Shao’s expression was complicated. Looking at the now-deranged Imperial Consort, he ultimately said nothing.
The chamber echoed with heart-wrenching sobs. Though more people filled the room, making it seem busier, those standing there felt an even deeper, more chilling cold.
“How could this happen? How could this happen?” the Imperial Consort murmured, staring at Prince Ping before suddenly shoving him away. “No, no. This isn’t Si Ge’er. This isn’t Si Ge’er.”
She began scrambling backward in a panic, her face full of terror as she looked around fearfully.
“Get away! Get away!” she cried out, waving her arms as if to fend something off.
Her actions sent the attending eunuchs and palace maids trembling with fear.
“He is Liu Ge’er! He is Liu Ge’er! Liu Ge’er has come back to haunt us!” the Imperial Consort shrieked.
At her words, Chen Shao and the others had only just begun to frown when, over there, Gao Lingjun raised his hand and struck the Imperial Consort hard on the back of her neck.
Chen Shao and the others gasped softly, watching as the Imperial Consort crumpled limply to the floor.
“Her Ladyship cannot withstand the shock. Take her back to her palace and have the imperial doctors watch over her,” Gao Lingjun said, his voice flat and wooden, utterly unlike his earlier loss of composure.
The eunuchs and maids did not dare delay. They hurried forward, half-supporting, half-carrying Imperial Consort out of the chamber.
Gao Lingjun also stood up. He stepped forward and walked out without another glance at Prince Ping.
It is meaningless. When something is meaningless, you discard it and turn to what matters.
“Master Gao, you may return to…” Chen Shao began, turning to speak, but before he could finish, he saw Gao Lingjun break into a frantic run, darting around the side of the hall toward the rear.
Chen Shao and the others stood dumbfounded.
That scoundrel!
Everyone hurriedly gave chase.
“Stop him! Stop him!”
Guards and duty officers swarmed from all sides. Yet Gao Lingjun raised both hands high, producing from them a jade belt.
“I, Gao Lingjun, was entrusted by the late Emperor to serve His Majesty with utmost loyalty! I am the Empress Dowager’s own nephew! Hearing of peril befalling His Majesty and the Empress Dowager, I come to see them. Who dares to stop me?!” he bellowed, his eyebrows drawn fiercely, his voice ringing out.
The loud declaration indeed gave the surrounding imperial guards pause, and they halted.
“That is the belt bestowed upon him by the late Emperor,” Chen Shao said, sighing and shaking his head.
This was not something that could be hidden; sooner or later, it would be announced to the world. Sooner or later. Chen Shao inwardly scoffed. He feared it was already spreading through the capital like the wind.
Inside the Emperor’s bedchamber, the imperial physicians continued their acupuncture and administered medicine. The Empress, along with the consorts and princesses, had withdrawn slightly.
Although Cheng Jiao-niang had said she could not treat the illness, because Chen Shao and the others had left due to the matter with Gao Lingjun, and the Empress had lowered her head to wipe tears, her heart wholly focused on the Emperor, no one had actually arranged for Cheng Jiao-niang to stay or leave. Thus, she still stood within the chamber.
Someone quietly approached her side.
“Are you afraid?”
Duke Jin’an’s voice asked softly.
Cheng Jiao-niang turned to look at him. The Duke’s hair and robes were still soaking wet. Understandably, in the chaotic aftermath of such major events, no one had yet attended to providing him with a change of clothes.
Perhaps it was because his hair was wet, but his face seemed even more sharply defined, his eyes appearing deep and shadowed.
“Afraid of what?” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Before her words had fully settled, noisy footsteps sounded outside the door. The curtain was abruptly yanked aside.
“Your Majesty!”
Gao Lingjun shouted. He fell to his knees with a thud, then began shuffling forward on them, his voice crying out, tears also streaming from his eyes.
“Your Majesty!”
Hearing the commotion, the Empress hurried over from one side. Before she could speak, Gao Lingjun’s gaze had already fallen upon Cheng Jiao-niang.
“Minister Chen!” he thundered, his brows drawn fiercely. Turning to look at Chen Shao and the others who had followed him in, he pointed an accusing finger at Cheng Jiao-niang. “What is this talk of no outer court officials being allowed inside? Then how did she get in?”
“His Majesty was in court session. He summoned Lady Cheng here for questioning,” Chen Shao replied, his face stern.
“What question did His Majesty wish to ask?” Gao Lingjun immediately pressed loudly.
At these words, the expressions of the officials present shifted slightly.
They couldn’t help but instinctively recall – What had His Majesty intended to ask…
“That is not for Master Gao to know,” Chen Shao said firmly, raising his voice. “Have you come here to ask this, or to see His Majesty?”
Gao Lingjun did not press further on that point. Instead, he pivoted.
“Then, since His Majesty is already in this condition, why is she still in the palace? She was permitted entry, yet I was barred!” he roared in anger.
His tone almost sounded like a child throwing a tantrum, acting out unreasonably.
Had Gao Lingjun, like Imperial Consort, been driven mad by the shock?
“Master Gao, Lady Cheng was summoned by this palace to diagnose and treat His Majesty,” the Empress spoke up, her voice clear.
Gao Lingjun shifted his gaze to the Empress. “Oh?” he said.
“So that’s how it is,” he continued slowly, narrowing his eyes, which glinted with a dangerous light. “It was the Empress who summoned this Lady Cheng – the one who knows when thunder will strike, how to draw it down, who dared to make an oath with His Majesty, vowing to be struck by heavenly lightning herself if she lost – to diagnose and treat His Majesty?”
His words fell like a stone into still water. The expressions of everyone present changed dramatically. All eyes snapped instantly to Cheng Jiao-niang.
“If the review of the Northwest troops is conducted justly, if my sworn brothers’ pensions are handled properly and they are recognized as having died honorably with no injustice… Since I have invited the populace to hear my plea, I must also have them hear my reckoning.”
“What reckoning?”
“I will bring down heavenly lightning upon herself as penalty.”
The officials recalled the words that now echoed in their ears. Looking again at the woman standing in the corner, their expressions grew strange and uneasy. Some even unconsciously took a step back, as if wanting to put more distance between themselves and her.
Bring down heavenly lightning upon herself…
Bring down heavenly lightning…
