These days, Master Gu originally did not want to speak of certain matters at this time, but he had no choice but to address them.
The Empress sent someone from the palace, firstly to express concern over the Princess Consort’s injuries, and secondly to discuss the matter of adoption.
Although the issue was not brought up in the court assembly, the Empress’s intention was to privately instruct court officials to prepare memorials requesting it. Ideally, the adoption of Duke Jin’an as a royal heir should be finalized simultaneously with the posthumous title conferment of the Crown Prince.
In truth, it would have been best to settle this directly in the court assembly. However, as the Duke is wholly preoccupied with Lady Cheng, the matter had to be set aside for the time being.
For half a day since his return, he has remained by Lady Cheng’s side, refusing to see even his advisors or the messengers sent by various ministers.
With the first night after the palace coup approaching, numerous matters must be arranged, and further delay is no longer possible.
No one else dared to speak of these things, so it fell to him alone to do so.
“What matters are at hand today?” Duke Jin’an asked calmly.
Master Gu raised his head and looked at him.
“The matter of transforming overnight from a duke to an imperial heir, then to the Crown Prince, and finally the next emperor,” he said.
This was what was at hand today.
The leap to the supreme throne, to the dignity of the sovereign, was not something just anyone could dream of.
While many said Duke Jin’an had such ambitions, accusing him of harboring ill intentions and ulterior motives, those close to him knew very clearly that the Duke had never entertained such thoughts.
Yet, just because Duke Jin’an did not think of it did not mean they had not. Especially when the opportunity and qualification suddenly presented themselves.
After Prince Ping’s sudden death by a lightning strike, matters that had once seemed distant and unthinkable – almost heretical to even consider – suddenly became far less abstract. The issue of adopting a clan member into the imperial line as a prince was now placed before the public eye.
Since it involved imperial clan members, Duke Jin’an, as a member of the clan, naturally qualified – not only qualified but arguably more than eligible.
The thought, like bamboo shoots after a spring rain, surged uncontrollably. It wasn’t just him; all his followers were stirred by the idea. Perhaps even they themselves were unwilling to admit that their unwavering, fearless loyalty might have been driven by this very prospect.
Yet, while the thought lingered, it never translated into action – largely because the opportunity to act had never presented itself.
So why, when nothing tangible had been done, did this idea become reality?
No, it wasn’t “nothing.” Upon reflection, numerous events had unfolded, converging and driving forward, ultimately shaping today’s outcome.
Had they not left the capital, they would certainly have been trapped in the Duke’s residence, with no chance to lead troops to storm the palace gates.
Had they obeyed Empress Dowager’s edict to return to the capital, today would never have happened – instead, the ones forced to take their lives in the palace might have been Duke Jin’an rather than Chen Shao and Gao Lingjun.
Had they not defied the edict and left Qingyuan Station, today would also have been impossible – they would have arrived too late to lead troops into the city at night, and attempting it by daylight would have been absolutely out of the question.
There were allies waiting at the city gates, garrison troops stationed outside the city, and senior ministers ready to receive them at the palace entrance.
Everything unfolded seamlessly, perfectly timed – so perfectly it seemed almost too coincidental to be believed.
To say this, it’s not just this matter – it traces back to earlier events as well.
Take, for instance, when Prince Ping was struck dead by lightning. Though explanations were given, as folk often say, many stand in the rain during downpours – why was he the only one struck?
Looking further back, why was the Duke alone allowed to propose to Lady Cheng and receive her consent? Before him, many had sought to arrange a marriage with her.
She predicted solar and lunar eclipses, and precisely because of a natural disaster, Gao Lingjun was driven from the capital. The one who expelled Gao Lingjun was Chen Shao, and the reason Chen Shao could stand against him in court today was because she saved his father, sparing him from the mandatory mourning period that would have removed him from office.
She created divine bows and remarkable weapons, giving rise to figures like Fan Jianglin, who mastered the crossbow, and Li Mao. It was these innovations that led to the fire lances that repelled bandits on the road and the stone-projecting cannons that breached the palace gates today.
She possesses the shamanic arts to bring the dead back to life, yet she did not save the Emperor – nor even the Crown Prince. She had already entered the palace that night, so why did the Crown Prince still die?
Seemingly unrelated events have converged and solidified to bring about today’s outcome. Looking back, if even one of these past events had not occurred, today’s circumstances would have been different.
“Has Your Highness ever considered that Madam may have expended great effort for the events of today?” Master Gu looked at Duke Jin’an and asked.
The Duke turned his gaze toward him, his expression solemn and unreadable.
“In whatever she does, she spares no effort and gives her all,” he said. “To save Zhou Liu-lang, she would naturally expend her heart and soul without hesitation.”
He had deliberately sidestepped the question. Master Gu lowered his eyes and acknowledged with a simple, “Yes.”
“Then Your Highness must treasure the effort the Princess Consort has made and not allow yourself to fall into despondency or neglect your duties,” he replied, avoiding the Duke’s deflection and continuing instead. “The matter of adoption cannot be delayed any further. It must be resolved swiftly and decisively. Members of the imperial clan from various regions are soon to arrive. Otherwise, I fear even the Crown Prince’s funeral will not proceed in peace.”
“I believe Your Highness would not, and does not wish to, let the Princess Consort or the Crown Prince rest uneasily.”
A tense silence settled between the two, the air seeming to thicken.
Duke Jin’an did not speak further but instead strode outward, breaking the stillness.
“What exactly are you trying to say?” Eunuch Jing finally stepped forward, grabbing Master Gu’s sleeve and lowering his voice with a furrowed brow. “Speaking in such a roundabout, hesitant way – and with the Princess Consort in this state now…”
“That’s precisely why, with the Princess Consort in this state, His Highness must not retreat or evade,” Master Gu replied quietly. “He must understand the significance of all that the Princess Consort has done, recognize the effort and dedication she has poured into it, and ensure that none of it goes to waste.”
Eunuch Jing stared at him.
“You’re saying that what happened today was orchestrated by the Princess Consort?” he whispered.
That today His Highness could become an imperial heir and someday ascend the throne – had the Princess Consort planned and worked for this all along?
Such words could not be spoken lightly, or it would truly become…
“You’re mad!” he hissed under his breath. “What nonsense are you imagining?”
“Nonsense?” Master Gu lowered his voice. “Think carefully about everything that has happened up to now before calling it nonsense.”
He glanced back toward the residence where Cheng Jiao-niang was staying.
“Shamanic arts… shamanic arts. We’ve always only heard of them, never witnessed them. So, such miraculous skills truly exist in this world,” he said slowly.
“So, she really is a disciple of the immortals.”
As he spoke, his eyes began to gleam.
If His Highness is the true Son of Heaven, then the immortals would naturally lend their aid. Thus, everything that has happened today is ordained by heaven’s will.
No, wait. Shamanic arts can hardly be called the work of immortals – they are more like arcane and mysterious arts, techniques that must remain hidden in the shadows, never to be revealed openly.
That’s why this girl’s acts of resurrecting the dead and healing the sick are never witnessed by others. That’s why a single life must be exchanged for untold wealth. So…
His expression grew increasingly troubled, his breathing more and more agitated, until a hand struck his shoulder with force, interrupting his train of thought.
“You say I’m imagining things, yet you refuse to admit it,” Eunuch Jing said irritably. “Doctor Li has said there’s nothing strange about it – shamans are the ancestors of physicians. Just as using a child’s urine as a medicinal ingredient is a form of shamanic art, it’s simply another practice.”
Master Gu gave a cold laugh.
“Even if I am imagining things, at least I have the courage to think. Are you too afraid to even consider it?” he said. “Why don’t you dare to think?”
“Why wouldn’t I dare?” Eunuch Jing retorted, widening his eyes. “What is there to think about?”
“There’s plenty to consider – it just depends on whether one is willing to think,” Master Gu replied, exhaling heavily. “Besides, this isn’t something bad. The Princess Consort has gone to such lengths for His Highness – it’s truly the best possible outcome.”
He had long felt something was odd. Ever since they suddenly decided to leave the capital, the coincidences had struck him as strange. Now it turned out it was all part of an exquisitely planned scheme.
To think that today, in a single night, the grand situation was settled – it felt almost like a dream.
As the saying goes, to turn clouds and rain – this must be what it means.
“My admiration for the Princess Consort knows no bounds; I would never dare harbor any disrespect toward her,” Master Gu said once more, bowing respectfully toward the residence behind him before straightening up and stroking his beard as he walked away with ease.
Eunuch Jing remained where he stood, unable to resist glancing back at the residence.
Best outcome? That depends on who you ask.
What’s sweet honey to one may be bitter poison to another.
The events of today… he truly dares not – and does not wish – to dwell on them.
Yet they exist, filled with questions and uncertainties. Not thinking about them now doesn’t mean he won’t tomorrow. And if not tomorrow, then the day after. Once he starts thinking, he’ll think more and more, and the thoughts will only grow…
Zhou Fu withdrew his hand from the window and lowered his gaze, turning around. The bed curtains were half-open, and inside he could see the girl lying with her eyes closed.
Thin undergarments clung to her skin, stained with patches of brown medicinal liquid.
Everyone had been probing him, asking how exactly this woman had treated his injuries. He didn’t know, but looking at her condition, he could imagine.
Her hair, cut short. Her hands, cut and torn. Her body, covered in knife wounds.
Shamanic arts…
He had heard of them too – that those who practiced shamanic arts often required sacrifice, that to ask for something, one must first give something in return.
So, had she used herself as the offering? Had she exchanged her own well-being for his life?
Zhou Fu clenched his fists, the joints cracking audibly.
Damn it! Damn it! Who asked you to exchange anything! Who wants you to trade for me!
“Miss, Miss…”
The cries of Ban Qin and Su Xin echoed from outside the door.
Those who had been left behind at Qingyuan Station had finally made their way into the city and returned.
Zhou Fu lowered his head, turned away, and wiped his tears. When he turned back, he saw the two maids stumbling in and collapsing to their knees, weeping uncontrollably. Outside, there were also choked sobs from men. Peering through the window, he saw Steward Cao and others kneeling in the courtyard.
Who would have thought that just moments ago they were talking and laughing together, and the next moment could bring regrets that last a lifetime.
Such is the uncertainty of life.
Late into the night, the sound of footsteps echoed as Duke Jin’an entered. Zhou Fu, who had been sitting by the couch, looked up warily, while Ban Qin and Su Xin rose to bow in greeting.
“I’ve finished my duties for the day,”Duke Jin’an said. “You should go rest.”
Zhou Fu shook his head.
“I’ll stay until she wakes,” he replied.
Ban Qin and Su Xin couldn’t help but glance at Zhou Fu.
They had already learned the general outline of what had happened and could understand Zhou Fu’s feelings, yet Duke Jin’an and Cheng Jiao-niang were, after all, husband and wife…
No matter how one looked at it, as an unrelated man, was it appropriate for him to stay day and night by her side, inseparable from her husband?
Duke Jin’an looked at Zhou Fu, and Zhou Fu met his gaze without flinching.
A heavy silence settled in the room.
“Very well,” Duke Jin’an said at last, withdrawing his gaze.
