Two days later, Prince Yan, who had been away inspecting river affairs, finally returned to the capital at dawn. Before daybreak, before he could even step foot into Prince Yan's Mansion, the Empress summoned him to the palace.
The Princess Consort remained in the mansion, her heart uneasy. After the death of Concubine Zhou, she had been restless, unable to focus on managing the household affairs, and simply let them pile up unattended.
Chengming's body still lay in the back hall, awaiting Prince Yan's return for arrangements. Cheng Zhen, frightened by the ordeal, had developed a high fever in the middle of the night, delirious and unable to recover even by daybreak. Weak and listless, he lay in bed, unable to rise.
The Princess Consort kept vigil by her child's bedside, her brow furrowed with worry as she watched her youngest son toss and turn in his nightmares.
Physicians were summoned to treat the boy, but his condition showed no improvement. The diagnosis was "severe fright" and "invasion of cold evil."
"Mother." A timid voice called from behind. The Princess Consort's eldest son, Li Chengke, stood outside the curtain, cautiously addressing her.
Rubbing her temples, the Princess Consort replied, "At this hour, you should be at the Imperial Academy. What are you doing here?"
Li Chengke's voice was barely a whisper. "I... I want to stay with my brother."
With his younger brother ill and bedridden, Li Chengke had been consumed with worry, longing to stay by his side.
Already burdened with troubles, the Princess Consort had little patience for her eldest son's perceived lack of responsibility. "Your brother is sick and has already missed his studies. Must you neglect yours as well?"
Li Chengke pressed his lips together silently, peering around the screen into the room. Seeing his brother lying unconscious, he sniffled, holding back the tears that threatened to spill, then turned and left the chamber.
The scent of sandalwood lingered in the air, accompanied by the cheerful chirping of birds outside.
Exhausted, the Princess Consort leaned against the bed for a brief rest. As the sky grew brighter, she lifted her head and asked, "Granny Liu, has His Highness not returned yet?"
Granny Liu shook her head. "Not yet."
The Princess Consort sighed deeply, her fingers absently counting the beads of her prayer bracelet. The sudden death of the concubine's child weighed on her conscience—she bore some responsibility as the mistress of the household. Yet, in her heart, she knew she had sent physicians to tend to Chengming when he fell ill.
It was only due to the negligence of a wicked servant that the boy's condition had worsened.
She couldn't be blamed for the oversight—it was simply the child's misfortune.
When Prince Yan returned, she expected an outburst of fury. Her fingers tightened around the prayer beads as she braced herself for the storm.
A short while later, Granny Liu hurried in, her voice urgent. "Princess Consort, the Empress... the Empress..."
The Princess Consort sighed again and closed her eyes. "Has Her Majesty summoned me to the palace? I expected as much."
If she were called to Kunning Palace, the worst that could happen was a scolding from the Empress, perhaps kneeling in punishment for half a day. It didn’t matter—she was used to the Empress's harsh treatment.
If the Empress demanded penance, she could retreat to the prayer hall to chant sutras for the deceased child, offering her condolences.
But Granny Liu shook her head, clutching her handkerchief nervously. "The Empress and His Highness... they have come to the mansion."
...
Earlier, the Empress had summoned Prince Yan to Kunning Palace to inform him of the recent events in Prince Yan's Mansion. Then, together, they discreetly made their way to the mansion.
By midday, the sun blazed overhead.
The Empress arrived with only two elderly attendants in tow. Leaning on one of them, she stepped through the gates of Prince Yan's Mansion alongside Prince Yan.
She had expected chaos in the household after such a tragedy. Yet, to her surprise, the mansion was orderly, with servants carrying out their duties as usual—everything appeared calm on the surface.
The Empress refused to credit the Princess Consort for this.
No doubt the woman was holed up in her chambers, too consumed with worry to manage the household.
An elderly attendant, planted in the mansion by the Empress, stepped forward and reported, "Your Majesty, Steward Fugui is bedridden, and the Princess Consort is occupied with Young Master Cheng Zhen. For the past few days, Nanny Rong from Liuli Pavilion and a few senior maids have been overseeing affairs."
The Empress nodded, somewhat satisfied.
She glanced at Prince Yan beside her—his handsome face remained dark with anger.
"Your servant greets Her Majesty." The Princess Consort, having heard of their arrival, rushed over in a fluster. She curtsied to the Empress, then stole a glance at Prince Yan. The sight of his stormy expression made her heart leap into her throat.
The prince was indeed furious!
The Empress spoke coolly. "Let us see the child in the back hall."
Summoning her composure, the Princess Consort followed the Empress and Prince Yan to the rear hall. Despite the summer heat, the hall was eerily cold, with only two servants dozing at the courtyard entrance.
The lifeless body of Li Chengming lay in a small coffin—frail, thin, his tiny frame barely filling the space. Blocks of ice surrounded the coffin, preserving the body from decay.
Since the Crown Prince's health had worsened, Prince Yan had been busier than ever. He rarely saw the children born of his concubines, sometimes going a year without laying eyes on them. Never had he imagined that a brief absence would cost him a son.
Bound by blood, his heart ached at the sight of the child in the coffin.
The Empress sighed heavily and motioned for an attendant to drape a white cloth over the boy.
She instructed, "Tomorrow, arrange for a procession to escort the coffin to the Li family burial grounds."
For royal children who died young, the burial rites were simple—no grand ceremony, just a quiet resting place at the edge of the ancestral tombs, with a few burial offerings.
Thinking of the unfortunate Concubine Zhou, the Empress turned to the Princess Consort. "Where is Concubine Zhou's body? Have it buried as well."
Clutching her prayer beads, the Princess Consort lowered her head. "Your Majesty, that woman went mad—she even took Cheng Zhen hostage. I ordered her body thrown into the mass graves."
Silence fell over the hall.
Despite the summer heat, a cold breeze swept through, rustling the funeral banners hanging on the walls.
The Princess Consort dropped to her knees, confessing, "Your Majesty, Your Highness, I acknowledge my faults. But that woman harmed my Cheng Zhen—left him unconscious, delirious even now. Cheng Zhen is His Highness's flesh and blood, the legitimate heir of Prince Yan's Mansion! The punishment for Concubine Zhou was not excessive!"
Her son was the legitimate heir—the deceased Chengming was merely a concubine's child.
There was a clear distinction between legitimate and illegitimate. Her child mattered most.
The Empress's temples throbbed. She glanced helplessly at Prince Yan, who gave a slight nod, seemingly acquiescing to her judgment.
The Princess Consort would never recognize her mistakes. No matter how many times the Empress reprimanded or instructed her, the woman remained obstinate.
If that was the case, the Empress saw no point in propping up unyielding mud.
Her tone brooked no argument as she coldly declared, "Tantai Shuya, you are gravely ill. From now on, confine yourself to Kunyu Courtyard to recuperate. You need not concern yourself with the affairs of the mansion."
The Princess Consort looked up, stunned.
The Empress continued, "As for Chengke and Cheng Zhen, four attendants appointed by me will care for them. You need not trouble yourself—seeing them twice a month will suffice."
