Chapter 21
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Most of the time, Jiang Juan’s dull senses were quite keen, but at this moment, he sensed something.
Xue Fangli’s gaze was too complex, too intense.
There was disgust, hatred, mockery, and ridicule, but more than anything, there was a chilling coldness in his eyes.
Jiang Juan hesitated. “Your Highness…”
“Who told you?”
Steward Gao immediately felt guilty and lowered his head. Xue Fangli glanced at him, but Jiang Juan didn’t reveal the person. “I heard it from rumors.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. He first heard it from Xue Congjun, then inquired further from Steward Gao, but Jiang Juan still felt a bit uneasy.
Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it at all. It seemed to only anger His Highness more.
Xue Fangli stared quietly at Jiang Juan.
No wonder he came to accompany him, no wonder he wanted to appease him.
His little Bodhisattva knew nothing after all.
His ignorance was infuriating, yet he was still willing to recklessly offer up his sincere heart.
But how many hearts had he offered to others?
Xue Fangli closed his eyes lightly, inexplicable emotions churning within him, which he deeply suppressed. After a moment, he returned to his usual self, smiling as he said, “What does it have to do with me? She’s irrelevant to me.”
That woman was dead, so why wouldn’t he be happy?
Unfortunately, even in death, she lingered. During his episodes, in his brief dreams, the woman wept tears of blood, her voice piercing, cursing him day after day.
“I’m not in a bad mood, and I don’t need your company,” Xue Fangli lowered his gaze. “Since you’re not interested in the peacocks, then go back and rest. I have other matters to attend to. I can’t spare the time for you.”
He issued the order for the guest to leave. Jiang Juan hesitated for a moment, fearing he might indeed delay something important, but ultimately nodded. “Alright.”
As he was about to leave, Jiang Juan turned back. The man stood at the desk, his posture upright. A few strands of black hair fell on his shoulders, his lips colored an eerie red. Though he appeared to be smiling, it seemed somewhat forced, and oddly lonely.
Seeing Jiang Juan looking at him, Xue Fangli added, “In a few days… it will be… her memorial day. I will go to the Miaoling Temple. You stay at the manor alone, no need to be restrained.”
Jiang Juan subconsciously asked, “Can I go with you?”
Xue Fangli simply replied, “You’ll be at the manor.”
That was his way of refusing to take him along. Jiang Juan nodded, “Okay.”
He didn’t mind, but he wondered why Xue Fangli had mentioned it so early. However, Jiang Juan soon understood.
After he left, Jiang Juan didn’t see him for three consecutive days.
With Xue Fangli absent, Jiang Juan had the large bed all to himself. He enjoyed the freedom, finally able to stretch out without worrying about disturbing anyone next to him. However, Jiang Juan couldn’t help but feel a bit concerned about Xue Fangli’s condition.
During this time, Imperial Physician Su, also paid a visit to check on his foot injury. Jiang Juan’s recovery was going well, and he could already walk, although he couldn’t stand for too long.
On the last day of the month, Jiang Juan woke up early. He opened the canopy curtains. “Lan Ting, are you there?”
Lan Ting naturally stayed by Jiang Juan’s side. She quickly responded, “I’m here, Young Master. What’s the matter?”
“Could you help me check on His Highness…”
“Before dawn, His Highness had already left the manor with Steward Gao.”
Lan Ting knew what he was going to ask; she had seen it in the morning. Upon hearing this, Jiang Juan released the canopy curtains he had been holding onto.
Today was Beauty Yu’s memorial day, and Jiang Juan was still somewhat worried. He had intended to check on His Highness, but since he had already left, he could only nod and say, “Alright.”
With nothing else to do, Jiang Juan reluctantly lay back on the bed, feeling like a salty fish. Seeing this, Lan Ting suggested, “Young Master, you’re already awake. After breakfast, you can go back to sleep.”
That sounded good. Jiang Juan got dressed and was about to sit at the table when an unexpected visitor arrived at the palace.
“Your Royal Consort,” the palace maid beside the Empress Dowager lowered her eyes respectfully, “Her Majesty is devoted to Buddhist rituals and seldom interferes in other matters. She only learned of Prince Li’s marriage a few days ago and has now found some free time. She wishes to invite you to the palace for a chat.”
The Empress Dowager?
Jiang Juan was taken aback, recalling the plot.
The joy of a harem-themed story was that, except for the antagonists, everyone admired the protagonist shou. They willingly became tools for the protagonist shou’s success.
The Empress Dowager was one of those tools in the story. Jiang Juan remembered that she liked the protagonist shou and was quite an amiable old lady.
However friendly she might be, she still belonged to the protagonist shou’s faction. Jiang Juan wasn’t particularly keen on getting involved, but the Empress Dowager was an elder. Just as he was hesitating, Jiang Juan heard someone calling him.
“Your Royal Consort.”
With Xue Fangli absent and Steward Gao accompanying him, only the guards remained at the manor. Someone called out softly, then hesitantly continued, “You…”
How should he put it?
There had long been underlying grievances between the Empress Dowager, Beauty Yu, and His Highness. But the animosity among the noble figures was not something their subordinates could casually discuss.
The guard began to speak but then hesitated on how to stop Jiang Juan. Instead, he turned to the palace maid and said, “His Royal Consort’s foot injury hasn’t fully healed. It may be inconvenient for him to enter the palace. Perhaps it would be better to arrange for another day…”
The palace maid gently interrupted him, “Her Majesty doesn’t have free time every day.”
After a moment’s thought, Jiang Juan reluctantly decided to comply. He said to the guard, “It should be fine. Imperial Physician Sun said I’ve recovered quite well. You don’t need to worry.”
Finishing his words, he glanced at the palace maid, who smiled and gestured, “This way, Your Royal Consort.”
Jiang Juan followed her.
The guards left behind to protect Jiang Juan exchanged glances. Soon, the lead guard gritted his teeth, “You all follow them. I’ll go find His Highness.”
This was Jiang Juan’s second time entering the palace.
Last time, His Highness was present, but this time Jiang Juan was alone. He silently recited to himself to be careful as he made his way to the Cining Palace.
The Empress Dowager knelt among the incense, continuously twirling the beads in her hand. The palace maid whispered, “Your Majesty, the person has arrived.”
With a soft “click,” the Empress Dowager clenched the bead string, ceasing its movement. Without turning her head, she asked, “Are you Jiang Juan?”
“…. Yes”
“Do you know who I’m offering prayers to?”
Jiang Juan looked around. There were many tablets placed around the Buddha statue. He could answer this question, “The ancestors of the Xue family?”
“Indeed,” the Empress Dowager slowly opened her eyes, and the palace maid stepped forward to assist her up. “The ancestors of the Xue family, they are all here.”
“I offer prayers day and night, accumulating blessings for my ancestors and seeking blessings for my son, only wishing for the prosperity of the nation to continue endlessly.”
Turning to Jiang Juan, the Empress Dowager paused, her expression complex as she said, “You…”
Her voice halted momentarily, then she remarked with a hint of complexity, “You’re quite a handsome child.”
Throughout her life, the Empress Dowager loathed those who were born beautiful. Yet Jiang Juan’s attractiveness had nothing to do with frivolous charm; instead, it was a natural beauty that exuded clarity and tranquility, leaving one’s mind serene upon seeing him.
Having worshipped the Buddha for many years, the Empress Dowager especially favored those with a Buddha-like demeanor. She was satisfied with Jiang Nian because she admired his serene temperament, believing him to have a connection with Buddhism.
Seeing Jiang Jun today was truly astounding. As the Empress Dowager gazed at him, Jiang Jun lowered his eyes, surrounded by the incense, he seemed almost like a Bodhisattva on a lotus throne.
It’s a pity that he’s now part of Prince Li Residence, already Prince Li’s Royal Consort. If only she could summon him to the palace every day to accompany her in worship.
With this in mind, the Empress Dowager sighed deeply and said, “You, as the newlywed Prince Li’s Royal Consort, should kneel before the ancestors and burn incense for three days to pray for the prosperity of the nation.”
Jiang Jun looked at her in shock.
Burning incense for three days meant kneeling for three days, which seemed too long.
The Empress Dowager looked at him with a smile, her expression gentle, “What? You don’t want to?”
Jiang Jun indeed didn’t want to, but he felt like it was an unavoidable task.
If he refused to kneel before the ancestors, it would show disrespect for his elders.
If he refused to pray for the prosperity of the nation, it would be seen as treason.
Jiang Jun: “…”
What did I do wrong?
Jiang Jun felt so conflicted.
He wanted to tread carefully.
But kneeling for three days was really long and exhausting.
No, he had to find a way out of this.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Jiang Jun said slowly, “but, uh, I’ve had health issues since I was young…”
As he was about to make up an excuse, a brilliant idea struck him. He asked the Empress Dowager, “Does Your Majesty know about the condition of being a Tongzi Ming?”
The Empress Dowager, being a devout Buddhist for many years, naturally understood what it meant to be a Tongzi Ming.
The celestial beings long for the mortal world, sometimes sneaking down to earth, but despite their celestial affinity, they are disconnected from the human realm. Hence, they often suffer from weak constitutions, prone to illness, and premature death.
“Due to frequent heart ailments, I’ve had several close calls in the past. Then…” Jiang Jun continued, “my maternal grandfather encountered a great master. He said I have the fate of a Tongzi Ming, destined for an early death. If I want to live longer, I must never enter a temple in this life, let alone worship Buddha.”
After speaking, Jiang Jun pondered for a moment, then added uncertainly, “That great master… was named something like E’nan?”
“E’nan?” The Empress Dowager was startled, sitting up abruptly. “You’ve met him? Where and when?”
Jiang Jun mentioned Master E’nan purely to make his story more believable, but he hadn’t expected the Empress Dowager’s reaction to be so strong. He mumbled, “I don’t know either. I was too ill at the time, I lost consciousness…”
The Empress Dowager frowned but didn’t say anything more. She simply resumed twisting the beads on her hand.
For anyone else, being labeled with the fate of a Tongzi Mingh would have likely angered the Empress Dowager greatly. But it was Jiang Jun, and she already believed he had Buddha-nature, especially since he mentioned Master E’nan.
Many years ago, when the Empress Dowager was just an unloved concubine, she was banished to Zhao An Temple by the late emperor, thinking she would spend her days there. She cried bitterly, and a monk comforted her: “Don’t cry, young lady. Your fate is noble. Every hardship you face will bring auspiciousness, and in the future, you will rise to glory.”
The monk who comforted her called himself E’nan.
No one else knew about this matter, especially when the Empress Dowager never mentioned it to anyone. However, every Buddha’s birthday, she made a trip to Zhao An Temple. Unfortunately, since then, she had never seen this master again.
“In that case, you indeed cannot worship Buddha.”
The Empress Dowager snorted lightly. She had originally intended to use the excuse of ancestors and national fortune to compel Jiang Jun to kneel, whether he wanted to or not. But today, it seemed he had escaped this ordeal.
Jiang Jun breathed a sigh of relief and said sincerely, “If it weren’t for my fate, I would be willing to worship Buddha every day to pray for the prosperity of the country.”
“Bowing to the Buddha is not allowed,” the Empress Dowager glanced at him and said with a smile, “Then you can transcribe scriptures for me.”
As the words fell, the Empress Dowager seemed to remember something and asked Jiang Jun slowly, “If I’m not mistaken, today should be the memorial day for Beauty Yu, right?”
Jiang Jun nodded, “Yes.”
The Empress Dowager smiled, “You’re right on time. Then you can transcribe the ‘Bilan Sutra’ for her on my behalf.”
Agreeing to transcribe scriptures seemed like a good idea to Jiang Jun at first, but when the palace maid brought the scripture over, he regretted it immediately. It was thick enough to rival the English-Chinese Dictionary.
There are many words.
Jiang Jun sighed, but no matter how much he regretted it, he still picked up the brush. After all, Beauty Yu was His Highness’s mother consort, and transcribing scriptures seemed to have a blessing effect.
Since His Highness didn’t take him to the Miaoling Temple, Jiang Jun had plenty of time. It wouldn’t hurt to pray for His Highness’s mother consort while he was at it.
With this in mind, Jiang Jun began transcribing page by page. However, with so many words, Jiang Jun couldn’t resist being a little lazy.
The Empress Dowager watched him write earnestly and signaled for the palace maid to assist her. After observing for a while, she remarked strangely, “Your handwriting is… “
Neat, but only just neat. It didn’t match up to the level praised by Jiang Nian that day.
The Empress Dowager frowned, “Write properly.”
Hearing this, Jiang Jun nervously switched hands.
He was left-handed, and when he didn’t feel like writing properly, he resorted to scribbling with his right hand.
Having switched hands, Jiang Jun resumed transcribing the scriptures. He hadn’t written a few lines yet when the Empress Dowager asked, “Why are you using regular script?”
Was regular script not acceptable?
Jiang Jun hesitated for a moment, then changed to a different style of script. Not long after, the Empress Dowager asked again, “How about cursive script?”
Jiang Jun sensed her surprise, assuming the Empress Dowager was still dissatisfied. He had no choice but to switch to yet another style of script. This time, the Empress Dowager didn’t say anything, but her brow furrowed slightly.
Why was it still not right?
Feeling a bit desperate, Jiang Jun had exhausted all his options. He switched to the last style of script he knew, writing diligently and honestly in a slim and elegant style.
Jiang Jun’s grandfather was a master of classical Chinese studies. Due to his poor health since childhood, Jiang Jun was sent to his grandfather’s house for recuperation. Instead of the intended refinement of character and pursuit of serenity, Jiang Jun found himself practicing calligraphy day after day, learning one script after another.
After a while, the Empress Dowager spoke slowly, “You seem to be proficient in so many scripts.”
“The other day, your older brother mentioned that you write a beautiful slim regular script, with clear and elegant strokes,” praised the Empress Dowager. “Seeing you today, I realize that it’s not just the slim regular script you excel at. You’ve mastered the cursive script, the running script, and even the seal script.”
Jiang Jun: “…”
So that’s it.
He was startled for a moment, thinking the Empress Dowager was criticizing his handwriting like his grandfather used to. But thankfully, he also knew slim regular script. Otherwise, wouldn’t he have been exposed?
Jiang Jun felt relieved.
“It’s a pity though…”
The Empress Dowager spoke again, feeling that Jiang Jun was pleasing in every aspect, but he was Prince Li’s Royal Consort, and with the fate of a Tongzi Ming, she couldn’t bring him into the palace as she did with Jiang Nian.
After a pause, the Empress Dowager said lightly, “Since you know so many styles, why don’t you transcribe each style for me?”
Jiang Jun: “?”
Was this some kind of test?
Why was it like this?
Jiang Jun felt a strong resistance inside. Just transcribing one book would likely take him the whole day without eating or drinking, let alone transcribing four. Besides, standing for so long had already started to make his feet ache.
Hesitantly, Jiang Jun said, “Your Majesty, I have an injury on my foot. I can’t stand for too long.”
The Empress Dowager glanced at him, smiling gently, “If you can’t stand for too long, then kneel down and finish it.”
Jiang Jun: “…”
No, there was no way he could finish all of this. His hands would also start to hurt.
He needed to come up with a solution.
Jiang Jun was usually lazy and preferred not to move or use his brain too much. However, when faced with obstacles that hindered his lazy lifestyle, he would do everything possible to overcome them, just to flip himself back to his comfortable position.
Like now.
Transcribing four times over was practically a death sentence for him, and not being allowed to sit down made it even worse. Jiang Jun pondered over it and couldn’t bear it. He decided to make a big move.
Lowering his head, Jiang Jun grasped the brush again and began transcribing the scriptures line by line, as if he had accepted his fate and decided to obediently write here until the end of time.
Seeing that she didn’t need to say anything more, Empress Dowager was quite satisfied with Jiang Jun’s understanding of the situation. She had a maid help her sit down and began leisurely drinking her tea.
Jiang Jun glanced at her, then around the surroundings, and spotted a spot covered with soft red silk blankets. With a “snap,” he let go of the brush in his hand.
The next moment, Jiang Jun’s hand pressed against the table, his brows furrowed. “… My chest hurts.”
His fingers, placed on his chest, slowly tightened. Jiang Jun breathed gently, slowly bending down, his forehead against the table. He didn’t dare to move, as if the pain had reached its peak.
The Empress Dowager was taken aback, remembering Jiang Jun’s heart condition. She abruptly stood up and said, “Someone, quickly, get someone!”
As a maid was about to rush over, at that moment, there was a commotion outside the Cining Palace.
“Your Highness, without the Empress Dowager’s summons, you are not allowed to enter!”
“Your Highness! Your Highness—!”
“Empress Dowager, His Highness has broken in!”
Footsteps and shouts rang out one after another, chaos erupting everywhere. Jiang Jun, as planned, lay on the soft red silk blanket, not feeling any pain from the fall at all.
Feigning illness, that’s his expertise.
After all, he’s a seasoned heart patient.
Jiang Jun lay there peacefully, pretending to be dead, completely unaware of someone striding into the Cining Palace, the sleeves of the man’s robe rustling in the wind, the hem of his garment almost fluttering.
“Boom—!”
In the next moment, Xue Fangli expressionlessly kicked the door open.
“Where’s my wife?”
His smile was as sinister as ever, blood boiling in his eyes, his entire being exuding a ferocity that seemed like he had just crawled out of hell.
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