The child seemed utterly terrified, clutching two broken fishing rods in his hands. The palace servants bustled about putting out the fire, while he stood motionless, as if his soul had fled.
Shen Wei sighed inwardly and instructed Cai Lian, "Have someone prepare a calming draught."
The horror of the fire would likely leave the boy sleepless tonight. A warm bowl of soothing medicine would help him rest.
"Little brother, Chengzhen!"
A frantic voice rang out as Li Yao came sprinting over. In her haste, she tripped and fell hard, but quickly scrambled back up and continued running toward Li Chengzhen.
Upon hearing of the fire in her brother’s palace, Li Yao had been frightened out of her wits.
She had rushed here, stumbling and scrambling, desperate to find him.
Tears rolled down Li Yao’s cheeks as she embraced the dazed Li Chengzhen. "Are you hurt? Let me see."
Li Chengzhen shook his head. "I’m not hurt."
Li Yao wiped her tears, still sobbing.
Li Chengzhen tightened his grip on the snapped fishing rods, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Sister, can we go fishing at dawn? With Ninth Brother?"
This time, he was sure he could win against his younger sibling.
Li Yao nodded quickly, her voice choked with emotion. "Of course. I’ve already spoken to Grandmother Empress Dowager. You’ll stay at Cining Palace tonight. At dawn, we’ll fish in the imperial garden’s pond—the fish there are bigger."
A relieved smile flickered across Li Chengzhen’s face.
Fishing would make everything better.
The fire in the palace still raged, the flames towering high. The beams of the structure were mostly wood, and once ignited, the blaze seemed endless. The crackling of burning timber filled the air, thick black smoke coiling into the night sky.
Before long, the Empress Dowager’s palanquin arrived. Advanced in years, she couldn’t match Li Yao’s speed. As the sedan chair halted, the Empress Dowager beckoned to Li Chengzhen, her tone gentle. "Come stay at Cining Palace tonight. Grandmother has had a new bed prepared for you."
Clutching the fishing rods, Li Chengzhen nodded silently.
Just as he was about to follow his grandmother, the Empress’s voice suddenly called from behind: "Chengzhen!"
Li Chengzhen froze mid-step. He turned to see the Empress hurrying toward him. He had been on the verge of escaping hell—only to be yanked back by his own mother.
The fire blazed fiercely, and the entire rear palace knew of the disaster in the Second Prince’s residence.
Naturally, the Empress had heard as well.
Frantic with worry, she had brushed past the guards in her haste to reach her only son. Seeing Li Chengzhen unharmed, tears streamed down her face as she pulled him into a tight embrace. "My child... thank heavens you’re safe."
Confined within the vast Kunning Palace, her days spent in prayer before the Buddha, the Empress’s last hope was her son.
As long as he lived, there was still a chance to seize the throne.
Li Chengzhen gazed silently at his mother. Was her concern for his well-being genuine, or did she merely fear losing her sole support if he perished?
Once assured of her son’s safety, the Empress abruptly straightened, her expression turning icy as she rounded on Shen Wei. "How dare you, Consort Chen! The Emperor and Empress Dowager entrusted you with managing the rear palace, and this is how you fulfill your duty? You nearly got my son killed!"
Her fury was swift and merciless.
The fire in Chengzhen’s residence was the perfect opportunity to attack Shen Wei’s incompetence in governance—nearly costing a prince his life. Tomorrow, the Empress would write to the Tantai family, rallying court officials to denounce Shen Wei.
Perhaps she could strip Shen Wei of her authority.
Zhang Miaoyu arrived in a rush, catching the tail end of the Empress’s tirade.
Rolling her eyes, Zhang Miaoyu snapped, "Your Majesty, stop barking at the wrong tree. Who could’ve predicted a fire? The servants acted swiftly to rescue the Second Prince—proof of Consort Chen’s effective leadership."
The Empress glared. "You have no right to speak here."
Zhang Miaoyu scoffed. "On my way here, I heard you visited the Second Prince’s palace tonight. The fire started right after you left. Maybe you set it yourself."
The Empress recoiled. "You—how dare you spout such nonsense!"
The fire continued to roar, collapsing beams sending tremors through the ground.
Li Chengzhen watched the adults argue, then spoke up, still gripping his fishing rods. "Mother, it was my fault. I knocked over a glass lantern."
The blame was his alone.
Zhang Miaoyu smirked. "There, Your Majesty. Even your son admits it was an accident."
The Empress gnashed her teeth.
Her son’s foolishness infuriated her. At twelve, he still lacked the cunning to seize an advantage. A chance to topple Consort Chen, wasted.
Li Chengzhen hung his head in silence.
Li Yao, heart aching for her brother, gently took his arm. "Chengzhen, let’s go to Cining Palace. Tomorrow, we’ll fish—"
Before she could finish, the Empress yanked Li Chengzhen back. She shot Li Yao a venomous look.
So this was why she’d found fishing rods in her son’s room.
That wretched girl Li Yao had been filling his head with frivolous distractions. Li Chengzhen needed to study—his shoulders bore the weight of their family’s ambitions. How could he waste time on such nonsense?
"Must I repeat myself?" the Empress snarled. "Stop corrupting your brother."
Li Yao’s eyes welled with tears. "But... but he’s exhausted. I just wanted him to have some joy."
The Empress dismissed her with a wave. What did a child know of exhaustion?
This ungrateful daughter had always sided with Shen Wei, growing close to her children. The Empress had long given up on Li Yao.
Noticing the broken fishing rods in Li Chengzhen’s hands, her disgust deepened. She suspected Shen Wei had orchestrated this—using Li Yao to lead her son astray, sabotaging his studies.
In one swift motion, the Empress snatched the rods and hurled them into the inferno.
"Stay away from such distractions," she warned. "They’ll ruin you."
The rods landed in the flames with a crash, the bamboo crackling as it burned.
Li Chengzhen stood frozen, staring blankly at his empty hands.
No more fishing. No more dawn.
The last thread of his composure snapped.
Grief, despair, and a torrent of anguish crashed over him—the final weight that broke him.
Wrenching free from the Empress’s grasp, he turned and sprinted headlong into the fire.
