And so, where Mingzhu should ultimately be placed became a difficult question once more.
The Tatars had deliberately presented the jewel as a tribute to the emperor. It could not simply be disposed of like some unwanted object.
Jun Mulan drew away from Emperor Shunyuan, raising her voice slightly. “His Majesty hesitates over the Tatar Jewel out of concern for me. I have heard that Tatar women are skilled horsewomen, and I often ride at the Southern Park. Why not have her attend me at my side? That way, she may enter the palace properly and honorably.”
Emperor Shunyuan’s face lit up with approval. “That would be excellent.”
For some reason, he felt that Jun Mulan was no longer as hot-tempered as she had once been. Instead, she seemed increasingly perceptive, gentle, and considerate.
By contrast, Consort Zhen… Whenever he recalled the way she had wailed and made a scene outside the Hall of Mental Cultivation at noon, Emperor Shunyuan felt as though a wad of cotton were lodged in his chest, leaving him unbearably uncomfortable.
Wanye had never expected Mingzhu to be granted the rank of consort in Great Qian. After all, she was merely the daughter of an ordinary herdsman. To be allowed to attend Noble Consort Jun at her side was already a great honor.
His expression softened completely, and he cupped his hands in acceptance.
Only then did Mingzhu stop trembling. She lifted her head and gazed gratefully at Jun Mulan.
The minor disturbance was thus brought to an end. The evening banquet returned to its lively atmosphere, and host and guests alike enjoyed themselves.
Only Shen Chen’s expression remained grim. He could not force even the slightest smile onto his face.
He had not expected Jun Mulan to come to Shen Zheng’s aid at such a crucial moment and deceive Emperor Shunyuan into letting the matter pass.
Still, Emperor Shunyuan’s harsh reprimand of Shen Zheng showed that he had clearly remembered Xie Langyang’s bloodstained letter.
Once the seed of suspicion had been planted, all it needed was the right spark to erupt—and Shen Zheng and Wen Zhuo would be doomed beyond salvation.
At the second quarter of the Xu hour, the last drop of wine was drained. The clear moon at the edge of the sky was wrapped in a layer of hazy gray mist, and the air suddenly turned damp and cold.
Wanye was thoroughly drunk. Supported by his trusted attendants, he stumbled unsteadily toward Donghua Gate.
Emperor Shunyuan also looked utterly exhausted. After leaving the banquet, he boarded his sedan chair and returned to his chambers to rest.
The crowds before the hall dispersed. Wen Zhuo stood alone beneath the corridor, gazing forlornly at the gray moon hanging overhead in the deep night.
Suddenly, his shoulder sank under a weight. A moment later, warmth enveloped him, and a python robe still carrying its wearer’s body heat was draped over his shoulders.
Wen Zhuo turned his head. Shen Zheng slipped an arm around his shoulders and half-guided, half-pulled him toward a secluded corner of the corridor.
“Your Highness!” Wen Zhuo called softly, his voice betraying a hint of panic. He was afraid someone might see them.
“You are one of the Crown Prince’s Three Tutors. What is wrong with me taking care of you?” Shen Zheng replied as though it were only natural. He took Wen Zhuo’s hand, and when his fingertips touched the thin sheen of sweat in his palm, he gently kneaded the soft flesh. “What are you thinking about, Wanshan?”
Wen Zhuo lowered his voice. “Shen Chen’s attack today was certainly not improvised. He must have another move waiting. His aim is to make His Majesty suspicious of the two of us.”
Shen Zheng nodded, his grip tightening slightly. “I think so too. This should be related to Xie Langyang. I was too angry back then. It felt satisfying to strike at the heart of the matter, but I left behind a hidden danger.”
Wen Zhuo shook his head. “Even if you had not said it outright, Xie Langyang already knew. During the trial, he said, ‘You know perfectly well that I like men.’ I have no idea when he realized it.”
Shen Zheng said, “Fortunately, my mother is clever and shielded me this time. I suspect she has also realized what exists between you and me, but she has never discussed it with me, nor has she shown any opposition. Perhaps it is because she was born and raised in the northern frontier and was never bound by the strictures of the Central Plains.”
Wen Zhuo had initially remained somewhat tense. Only after looking around and confirming that no one was nearby did he relax and allow Shen Zheng to hold him. The two stood side by side beneath the night sky.
“Perhaps Her Ladyship has also suffered greatly in matters of the heart, and so she is more able to pity the two of us.” Wen Zhuo paused, then raised his eyes to look at Shen Zheng. “But now that we have seen through Shen Chen’s intentions, I have a way to deal with him.”
“There was one thing today that pleased me very much.” Shen Zheng suddenly smiled. He reached out and brushed his fingers across Wen Zhuo’s cheek, then bent down and pressed a light kiss to the place someone else had touched earlier.
Wen Zhuo was stunned by the kiss. “Hm?”
Shen Zheng’s palm moved slowly along his back, his tone carrying a hint of teasing. “My teacher did not put on a noble and selfless expression and advise me to make a temporary compromise—to accept Mingzhu for now so as not to arouse Father’s suspicions.”
“…”
Wen Zhuo’s heart skipped a beat.
He had to admit that the thought had indeed flashed through his mind. Years of discipline and ingrained habits had made him instinctively place the greater good first.
But after spending so much time with Shen Zheng, those deep-rooted beliefs had changed before he even realized it.
He had begun to face the possessiveness in his heart. He had begun to care about the notion of ownership, even cloaking it in the name of legitimacy.
“I do not want Your Highness to accompany anyone else. Even if it were only a pretense, I could never accept it. I will exhaust every effort and use every scheme at my disposal so that I never have to suffer such piercing pain again,” Wen Zhuo said frankly.
Even as he spoke, he felt somewhat ashamed. For the future emperor, this was undeniably an excessively harsh demand, yet he had laid bare all the darkness and stubborn possessiveness in his heart before Shen Zheng.
Shen Zheng only smiled, his eyes even shining with delight. “Do you remember what I told you when I confessed my feelings? From now on, you are permitted to have only me. I meant it seriously.”
Wen Zhuo nodded. He remembered it clearly. Shen Zheng had even solemnly warned him to keep his distance from female confidantes, though Wen Zhuo had never had any.
“In Great Qian, a man taking three wives and four concubines is considered perfectly natural. It is a convention everyone accepts without question. But in the future I came from, one person may marry only one other person. That is the accepted norm as well.” Shen Zheng explained it to him happily. “If someone is fickle and two-timing, they will be despised by everyone. So you need not blame yourself. Wanting me to belong exclusively to you is entirely right and perfectly reasonable. It will also make me feel loved by you.”
“Is the future truly that wonderful?” Wen Zhuo asked, unable to believe it, yet unable to conceal his yearning.
Whenever he was surprised, his lips parted slightly, and his eyes became round, clear, and bright.
Shen Zheng’s heart grew hot. Unable to resist, he bent down and savored Wen Zhuo’s lips, kissing and caressing them until they flushed. Only then did he sigh, “If fate ever gives me the chance, I will write you into my dissertation, so that the you beneath my pen may live forever in a leading academic journal. For a thousand years, for ten thousand years, you will become a trace that future generations cannot avoid when they study and investigate the past.”
Wen Zhuo fell silent for a moment.
He did not understand a word of it, but he knew Shen Zheng was speaking sweetly to him.
Thus, he wrapped his arms tightly around Shen Zheng’s waist, raised his head to return the kiss, and murmured softly, “Thank you, Your Highness.”
At some point, a puddle had formed on the palace path.
Just after passing Jiaotai Hall, Jun Mulan stepped into it with her embroidered shoe. The cold immediately seeped through the sole.
She had only just settled the Tatar Jewel when she heard that Consort Zhen was still kneeling outside the Hall of Mental Cultivation, so she had taken a detour to see what was happening.
The palace maid hurriedly called out, “Your Ladyship, the ground is wet and slippery. Let me fetch you another pair of shoes!”
Jun Mulan raised a hand to silence her and instead quickened her pace.
Passing through the vermilion gate, she saw a figure in pale violet kneeling on the golden brick floor. The woman swayed as though she might collapse at any moment, her body curled almost into a bow, with only her hands supporting her weight against the ground.
The doors to the Hall of Mental Cultivation were tightly shut. Her personal maid had been weeping and pleading with her for quite some time, yet Consort Zhen remained stubbornly unmoving.
Jun Mulan had never held much goodwill toward Consort Zhen. She also knew that Consort Zhen had been behind what happened to the mute palace maid. But she had not come here to gloat.
Judging by the Emperor’s attitude, Zhaoyue’s marriage alliance was likely already a foregone conclusion. Consort Zhen knelt before the hall, looking utterly devastated—just as she had looked all those years ago.
The only difference was that Shen Zheng had been sent away as a hostage and still had some hope of returning. Once Zhaoyue left, however, she would likely never see Consort Zhen again in this lifetime.
The Emperor had favored Consort Zhen for more than a decade, yet before the welfare of his empire, he could still be this heartless. The grievances, love, and hatred of the women in his harem were ultimately far too insignificant.
After kneeling for so long, Consort Zhen’s legs had already gone numb.
She had not eaten or drunk anything all day. Her cracked lips were peeling, cold sweat had soaked through her clothes, and the pearl hairpin atop her head could no longer stay in place. With a sharp clatter, it fell to the ground.
She had been holding herself up by sheer force of will. Only now did she realize that rank and imperial favor meant nothing. Her only weapon was a pair of knees that could bend and kneel.
She stared fixedly into the Hall of Mental Cultivation, waiting for the Emperor’s response. Even a reprimand would have been better than being ignored.
But just then, the candlelight inside the hall suddenly went out. The glazed panes in the windows fell dark in an instant.
The Emperor was retiring for the night. He did not care in the slightest that Consort Zhen was still kneeling outside.
At that moment, the fire in Consort Zhen’s heart seemed to go out with the lamps. The pain and despair she had suppressed all day burst through her chest, and she could no longer hold them back.
She abruptly struggled to her feet and screamed hysterically toward the Hall of Mental Cultivation, “I, Li Rouzhen, have attended you for twenty years! I have always known propriety, observed every rule, and conducted myself with decorum! Yet only today have I seen my true place. I am nothing more than a drifting raft for Your Majesty to lean against when you are weary! I wonder—has there ever been anyone in this world worthy of Your Majesty’s sincere devotion? If Consort Chen were still alive, would you also be willing to send her daughter away to marry for the sake of peace?”
A heavy object struck the floor inside the hall with a dull thud, and even the doors seemed to tremble.
Consort Chen was the Emperor’s greatest taboo. Other than Empress Cao, who had once shown Consort Chen kindness, no one else dared even mention her.
Clearly, Consort Zhen no longer had anything left to fear.
But before the Emperor’s punishment could come from within the hall, Consort Zhen suddenly clutched her chest. She threw back her head and gasped for breath. Then her body gave a violent shudder, and she toppled stiffly toward the ground.
“Mother!”
With a heart-rending cry, a figure in warm yellow burst through the doorway and lunged toward Consort Zhen.
Zhaoyue had been locked in her room by the nanny for the entire day. Though she was still young, she had sensed from the conversation between her father and mother that something was wrong.
When the nanny dozed off, she had quietly pushed open the door and crept around the palace attendants, searching everywhere for her mother.
At last, she heard that hysterical cry. But when she came running, all she saw was her mother collapsing to the ground.
“Your Highness! Your Highness, what’s wrong? Please don’t frighten me!”
Consort Zhen’s personal maid panicked. The horn lantern in her hand crashed to the ground and went out.
Zhaoyue threw herself over Consort Zhen. Seeing the agony on her mother’s face and the rigidity of her body, tears began streaming down her cheeks. She patted Consort Zhen’s face with her little hands and sobbed, “Mother, wake up…”
“Move!”
Jun Mulan strode forward, seized Zhaoyue by the arm, and pulled her aside. She bent down and turned Consort Zhen’s face toward her. At a glance, she recognized the condition as a sudden cardiac seizure accompanied by circulatory collapse.
With both hands, she ripped open the front of Consort Zhen’s robe. Then she struck her palm heavily against Consort Zhen’s chest and turned to shout at the attendants standing nearby, “What are you waiting for? Go summon the Imperial Physicians!”
Only then did the personal maid come to her senses. She scrambled to her feet, wiping away her tears as she answered, “Yes! Yes! I’ll go at once!”
She had completely forgotten that her mistress and Consort Liang had never gotten along. In her panic, she hurried outside.
Zhaoyue was utterly terrified. With her eyes red from crying, she looked tearfully at Jun Mulan. “Lady Jun… will my mother…?”
Jun Mulan’s expression remained cold, and she did not stop striking Consort Zhen’s chest. With her other hand, she pressed a fingernail viciously into the philtrum beneath Consort Zhen’s nose, digging in until the skin bruised.
Yet her tone was much gentler when she spoke to Zhaoyue. “Warm your mother’s hands. Many people on the battlefield suffer sudden heart attacks. Use this method to save them. She will be fine.”
Zhaoyue nodded hurriedly. She crawled over, seized Consort Zhen’s icy hand, and tucked it inside her own robe to warm it.
She could not help shivering when she realized that her mother’s hand was cold as ice. She had never known that Consort Zhen had developed a heart condition.
Jun Mulan’s maid also hurriedly warmed Consort Zhen’s other hand against her chest.
Jun Mulan continued pounding on her chest for a full quarter of an hour. At last, Consort Zhen’s throat moved, and she exhaled a breath of stale air. Color gradually returned to her face.
The Imperial Physicians arrived in a frantic rush. The chief physician knelt down and took her pulse. After a moment, he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and exclaimed repeatedly, “That was close, that was close! Thanks to Consort Liang’s timely intervention, otherwise the stagnant blood would have blocked her chest, and even the gods could not have saved her! Quickly! Carry Her Highness back to her chambers. I must begin acupuncture immediately!”
Jun Mulan handed Consort Zhen over to the physicians, then straightened and smoothed her robes.
A young eunuch poked his head out from the Hall of Mental Cultivation. When he saw Consort Zhen being carried away, he hunched his shoulders and silently withdrew.
This time, no punishment or reprimand came from Emperor Shunyuan.
When word reached Shen He that Consort Zhen had suffered a sudden heart attack and nearly died, the alcohol left his system at once. He hurried over to visit her, carrying a fine old mountain ginseng root with him.
Consort Zhen lay on the bed, her face still pale. Zhaoyue stood guard at her bedside without moving an inch. When Shen He entered, Consort Zhen merely turned her head away and refused to look at him.
Shen He stood by the bed in silence. After a long while, he finally stammered, “Mother, please take care of your health first. No matter how much you punish yourself, it won’t change anything…”
His voice grew quieter and quieter until he could say no more.
He did have feelings for Consort Zhen and Zhaoyue, but he was weak by nature. Before imperial authority, there was nothing he could do. He could not save anyone.
Consort Zhen kept her eyes closed as tears silently slipped down her cheeks.
“Then… then I’ll take my leave for now.” Shen He lowered his head, his voice thick with emotion. He then reminded Zhaoyue, “Stay with Mother and take good care of her. If anything happens, send someone to notify your brother at once.”
Zhaoyue gave a slight curtsey. “Yes.”
It was as though she had grown up in an instant. Her face still held the innocence of childhood, but the bright, carefree look had vanished from her eyes.
She knew why her mother had argued with her father. She also knew that her own fate was as fragile as a drifting duckweed, and that she would soon be carried away to the bitter, unfamiliar lands beyond the pass.
She was afraid. No matter what, she did not want to leave home or leave her mother. But she was a princess of Great Qian, and this seemed to be the fate she was required to bear.
She did not want her mother to tear openly with the Emperor because of her. If abandoning her alone could spare everyone else from hardship, then she was willing to do it.
After Shen He left, Zhaoyue turned back and gently touched Consort Zhen’s shoulder. “Mother, I’m willing to go to the Tatars. Please don’t oppose Father anymore. When I’m gone, you’ll still have Brother by your side. He can keep you company in my place.”
As she spoke, Zhaoyue’s eyes reddened as well.
Consort Zhen could no longer hold back. She pulled her daughter into her arms and burst into sobs.
“I only want Zhaoyue! Mother only wants Zhaoyue!”
Outside Donghua Gate.
After they had confessed their feelings, Shen Zheng forcibly restrained his urge to carry Wen Zhuo back to the Eastern Palace. He accompanied him all the way to the small red-lacquered sedan.
He watched Wen Zhuo lift the curtain and climb inside. Only after the sedan gradually disappeared into the night did he turn and walk back at an unhurried pace.
As soon as they reached the entrance to the Eastern Palace, Chen Ping stepped forward to report what had happened to Consort Zhen. Upon hearing it, Shen Zheng’s brows drew together at once.
He remembered that the Qian Veritable Records had recorded how, after Zhaoyue’s death, the news reached the capital. Consort Zhen, overcome with grief, had hanged herself. Emperor Shengde, enraged that she had defied the palace’s imperial aura and disrupted the feng shui of the inner palace, had ordered all her titles stripped away, severed her royal status, and buried her in a simple coffin without ceremony. No one had been permitted to pay their respects.
Once a person was dead, all humiliation and suffering became as light as a feather.
Only while one was alive did anything still have meaning.
In Kunning Palace, the candle flames wept, their wax dripping onto the floor until it had formed a thick layer.
Consort Zhen had held Zhaoyue and wept until she could cry no more. After that, she said nothing, merely staring blankly at the canopy overhead, her mind a chaotic jumble.
She was already utterly exhausted, with no idea what to do. She also knew that after mentioning Consort Chen outside the Hall of Mental Cultivation that day, the Emperor would surely come to despise her.
The Emperor hated nothing more than having anyone compare themselves to Consort Chen. In his heart, there was no one in this world who could match Consort Chen’s perfection.
She truly wanted to know: if Zhaoyue were Consort Chen’s daughter, would the Emperor have spared her out of lingering affection? Was it because she herself lacked enough charm that she had brought disaster upon her child, or was the Emperor’s heartless nature simply impartial toward everyone?
While she was lost in these chaotic thoughts, her personal maid, her eyes swollen like walnuts, softly announced, “Your Ladyship, Noble Consort Liang has arrived with His Highness the Crown Prince.”
Consort Zhen froze.
The maid gently reminded her, “You fainted outside the Hall of Mental Cultivation. It was Noble Consort Liang who saved you.”
A faint tremor passed through Consort Zhen’s eyes. First came astonishment, then her gaze narrowed, and she assumed an air of wariness.
Struggling, she threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. She slipped on her shoes, grabbed a robe and wrapped it around herself, then tightly clasped Zhaoyue’s hand, looking somewhat disheveled.
She had clearly just returned from the gates of death, yet at that moment she stubbornly donned her armor once more, bristling with sharp spines.
Jun Mulan and Shen Zheng soon arrived in the courtyard. Shen Zheng was still wearing the dragon-emblazoned robe from the evening banquet, while Jun Mulan had changed out of her formal attire and into a brisk, practical outfit.
Consort Zhen leaned against the doorframe and slowly lifted her head. Though her lips were pale and her face haggard, her presence had lost none of its force.
Her eyes were filled with wariness. “What have you come here for? Did you save me so you could demand repayment? I have nothing left to give. You’ve won, Jun Mulan. Before long, you’ll possess everything, while I will lose it all!”
Jun Mulan’s expression did not change. She only stared coldly at her.
This woman was as suspicious as ever, every word bristling with barbs. She was utterly unpleasant.
Even Jun Mulan could not explain why she had intervened to save her. Perhaps it was the instinctive love of a mother for her child, allowing her to empathize with Consort Zhen.
Consort Zhen clutched Zhaoyue protectively, like a rabbit driven into a desperate corner and lashing out in panic. With anger, she roared, “Why are you staring at me! Is it because you pity me? My Zhaoyue is a precious daughter of the imperial family, yet she can only be sent far away to the north to marry into the Tatar court. Meanwhile, you, Crown Prince, can inherit the throne and rule the world, and my adopted son can roam freely beyond the borders. Why! Why is Zhaoyue the only one who has to suffer!”
Looking at her nearly unhinged state, Shen Zheng sighed softly. “I will not let Zhaoyue be sent away to marry.”
“You’ve taken all the advantages for yourselves, and I—”
Consort Zhen was still immersed in her resentment. Her outburst abruptly cut off halfway.
She widened her reddened, tear-filled eyes and stared at Shen Zheng in disbelief. Her tongue stumbled over the words, and only after a long moment did she manage to force out, “You… What did you say?”
Shen Zheng repeated in a deep voice, “I said the Tatars are cunning and brutal, and their intentions are impure. Zhaoyue absolutely cannot be sent into the lair of wolves and tigers.”
Consort Zhen stared at him, stunned. In an instant, all the force she had summoned, all her barbs and armor, collapsed.
Shen Zheng continued, “Over the next few days, do whatever you can to delay matters with His Majesty. I will protect Zhaoyue.”
Consort Zhen’s legs suddenly gave way, and she sank onto the cold threshold.
Covering her face with both hands, she finally broke down completely. Only humble sobs and desperate pleas remained.
“Your Highness, please don’t deceive me… I beg you, please don’t deceive me…”
Zhaoyue clenched the corner of her robe. The tears she had been holding back spilled from her eyes.
“Crown Prince Brother…”
