The royal carriage gradually faded into the distance, yet Duke Jin’an remained motionless in front of the gate.
Eyes from the vicinity of the palace were fixed upon him, watching intently.
“Your Highness,” a eunuch reminded softly, “it is time to return.”
As if only then regaining his composure, Duke Jin’an turned and walked back into the residence. Once inside, however, he fell into another daze.
“It feels as though the mansion has been half emptied,” he murmured.
In truth, only seven people were missing.
As he had often attended to Prince Qing personally, the prince only kept six attendants by his side. Naturally, they had accompanied him into the palace.
The eunuch looked at Duke Jin’an.
“Your Highness, isn’t this rather good?” he said.
Duke Jin’an smiled and nodded.
“Indeed, it is good,” he replied.
Hadn’t they been working toward this very day all along?
“It’s just that I’m still getting used to it,” he added.
After all, the two brothers had been companions for over a decade – especially in the last three years, when one had become like an innocent young child again, and the other had taken on the role of a nurturing guardian, caring for him like a mother or grandmother.
“Your Highness,” the eunuch said with a gentle smile, “Your Highness must grow accustomed to this. Prince Qing is no longer a child. What Your Highness should focus on now is not meticulous daily care – such tasks are for us servants. Your responsibility lies in greater, more important matters. Have you not promised Prince Qing as much?”
Duke Jin’an smiled again and nodded.
Yes, he must grow used to it – just as he had grown used to “Liu Ge’er” becoming “Prince Qing,” however reluctantly. Now, the Prince Qing he had grown accustomed to was changing once more, and so he must adapt again. For no matter how he changed, he would always be his Liu Ge’er.
“I promised I would help you grasp hold of this realm,” he said softly, extending his hand and slowly closing it into a firm fist.
“This world is yours, and now you can finally take it. And I will make sure you hold it steady.”
…
“Has the Empress Dowager taken Prince Qing back to the palace?” Chen Shao frowned as he spoke. He had just washed up after waking and was drinking a bowl of tea soup before heading into the palace. “Does the Empress Dowager intend to put Prince Qing on the throne?”
“My lord, there is nothing unreasonable about that,” the advisor said. “After all, Prince Qing is the sole remaining bloodline of His Majesty.”
“But Prince Qing is a fool!” Chen Shao retorted, slamming the tea bowl down onto the table. “What posthumous title would he even be given in the future – ‘Hui’ (Benign) or ‘An’ (Peaceful)?”
The advisor was momentarily taken aback.
“I suppose ‘An’ would be more fitting,” he replied.
Compared to the “Benign Emperor,” the “Peaceful Emperor” was almost oblivious to heat and cold, could barely speak – traits far more similar to Prince Qing.
Chen Shao glared at him.
“Do you think such jokes are amusing?” he snapped irritably, flicking his sleeves and striding swiftly out of the room.
The advisor smiled faintly.
“My lord,” he called out, hurrying to catch up.
“This may not be amusing, my lord, but there are those who would dare to act on it. This matter is of grave importance.”
This was indeed a matter of grave importance. The moment the palace carriage stopped outside Prince Qing’s residence, the news spread like wildfire, instantly causing a public uproar.
While the common folk were captivated by the spectacle of Cheng Jiao-niang summoning thunder, for the court officials, the most pressing and crucial concern at this moment was the affairs of state.
The Emperor was critically ill and could pass away at any time, and his sole heir, Prince Ping, had also met with disaster. A nation cannot be without a ruler for a single day. Who would become the ruler was now the critical issue that concerned the dynasty’s future and the personal prospects of every individual.
“This is utterly absurd! How can a fool become emperor?”
“You’re the one being absurd! Why can’t a fool be emperor? Isn’t there historical precedent?”
“Do not speak of precedent – everyone knows how terrifying that precedent was!”
“Everyone does know. Now, it’s a matter of who will become the Grand Tutor Wei Guan.”
…
“It seems Gao Lingjun is determined to have the Empress Dowager rule behind the curtain,” Zhou Fu remarked.
Compared to the clamor outside, the Cheng residence remained as quiet as ever.
Qin Hu, true to his word, had hastily departed after making that statement. For him, saying even one extra word here was no small matter. After all, with the Emperor fallen and Prince Ping tragically lost, the court was now a turbulent undercurrent, poised for countless shifts in power and influence.
Although the Qin family’s standing at court was not as weighty as Chen Shao’s or as prestigious as Gao Lingjun’s, they were still descendants of a prominent aristocratic and imperial lineage. Every move they made would inevitably ripple through the court.
As for Cheng Jiao-niang, her position at this moment was delicate. Outwardly, the summoning of thunder was meant to prove that Prince Ping’s death was an accident, not divine retribution. But within the court, everyone understood – it was really meant to clear the Empress Dowager of any suspicion that she had used thunder to harm Prince Ping.
Yet, what good did such proof do?
The seed of doubt had already been sown. For now, she remained untouched, only because Prince Ping’s reputation had to be preserved. Once Prince Ping was laid to rest and the Empress Dowager consolidated her power, that seed – tended by those with ulterior motives – would inevitably sprout, break through the soil, and grow into a towering tree.
“But what does this have to do with Miss?” Ban Qin couldn’t help but interject. “It’s not as if Miss caused any of this. She has nothing to do with it. How could they…”
“Nothing to do with her?” Zhou Fu replied, frowning as he glanced at her. “Prince Ping was struck by lightning while kneeling in confession. Why was he kneeling in confession? Because the Imperial Consort had been falsely accused. Remember – from the Empress Dowager’s perspective, the Imperial Consort was framed by Consort An. Why was Consort An able to frame her? Because she had become pregnant. And why did Consort An conceive? Because she ate the pastries sent by Duke Jin’an.”
The maid and Ban Qin stared, stunned.
“So Sixth Young Master, it turns out you can speak quite eloquently too,” the maid remarked.
Zhou Fu shot her a sharp glare.
“But… it still has nothing to do with Miss,” Ban Qin protested, snapping back to her senses.
Zhou Fu gave a cold snort and turned to Cheng Jiao-niang.
“And how did Duke Jin’an get those pastries?” he said.
The pastries?
That day, when Prince Qing established his residence, Duke Jin’an had invited her mistress as a guest. Her mistress played the zither to purify the house, and Duke Jin’an adjusted the pastries according to her taste. Then he took the pastries into the palace for the Emperor, who later gave them to Consort An…
“Even that counts?” Ban Qin exclaimed, wide-eyed. “So now it’s our mistress’s fault? This… this is just being unreasonable!”
Zhou Fu snorted coldly.
“Isn’t that just how women are – unreasonable?” he said. “What’s more, this is an elderly woman who has lost her grandson and then her son in quick succession, a woman who has always been placed on a pedestal by everyone, whom even the Emperor revered with filial piety and never dared to disobey. A woman who has endured such a blow – do you really expect her to be reasonable?”
Indeed, such a grief-stricken, furious, and aggrieved elderly woman would hardly be in the mood for reason.
Especially when the Gao family was behind her, fanning the flames and discouraging any rational thought.
“I thought that with Prince Ping gone, things would settle down. I never expected the Empress Dowager to become involved,” the maid murmured, almost to herself.
If Prince Ping’s anger had stemmed merely from humiliation after being rejected in marriage – resulting at most in banishment from the capital and suppression – now it was no longer a small matter of being driven out of sight and out of mind. This had become a feud of mortal enmity, a matter of life and death.
It truly felt endless – one perilous peak after another.
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy and oppressive.
“My father has already packed his things and drafted his letter of resignation,” Zhou Fu said after a moment of silence. “I’ll be setting off for the northwest soon and can escort my father and the family back to Shan-zhou on the way. Jiao-niang, come with us.”
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled and shook her head.
“Don’t even think about marrying Duke Jin’an,” Zhou Fu muttered gloomily. “That’s impossible now – the Empress Dowager would never agree.”
“No, that’s a minor matter,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, glancing toward the door. “It’s just that, for now, someone is unwilling to let me go.”
“You mean the Empress Dowager and her faction?” Zhou Fu asked, half-rising to his feet. “Don’t worry about that. They can’t touch you right now. First, your act of summoning thunder has gained you high public esteem. Second, they’re too preoccupied at the moment. This is the best time to leave. Once we’re away from the capital and back in Shan-zhou, far from the reach of imperial power, it won’t be easy for them to do anything even if they want to.”
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him with a faint smile.
“No, not them,” she said.
Was it… Duke Jin’an?
Zhou Fu gritted his teeth, the thought forming in his mind, though he couldn’t bring himself to voice it.
This girl always answered directly when asked, and he didn’t want to hear her response at all – not even a little bit.
Urgent footsteps sounded outside the door.
“Sister!” Fan Jianglin hurried in, not even bothering to acknowledge Zhou Fu’s presence. “You’ve been summoned to the palace.”
The palace?
Zhou Fu stood up abruptly and saw two eunuchs standing calmly in the corridor behind Fan Jianglin.
“Lady Cheng,” they said with polite smiles, bowing slightly, “Her Majesty the Empress requests your presence.”
As they spoke, one of them produced an imperial edict.
The Empress?
Zhou Fu turned to look at Cheng Jiao-niang.
So the person she meant… was the Empress?
