The news of the deposed crown prince quickly spread throughout the Great Qi, reaching every street and alley until it became common knowledge. The former supporters of the crown prince now kept their heads down, not daring to make the slightest misstep.
The deposed crown prince was granted the title of Prince Ping and bestowed the Ping Prince's Mansion as his residence.
For others, these three days passed in the blink of an eye, but for Song Ling and his household, each day felt like a year. The Eastern Palace was frequently filled with the sound of weeping, sending chills down one's spine.
"Your Highness."
Upon hearing Wu Qi's voice, Song Ling didn't immediately realize he was being addressed. When it finally dawned on him, his eyes darkened with bitterness.
Indeed, he was no longer the crown prince.
Prince Ping—using "Ping" (ordinary) as his title—was his father mocking him for being too mediocre?
"Today is the day Your Highness must vacate the Eastern Palace. His Majesty has specifically ordered this servant to bring men to assist with the move," Wu Qi said with a smile, gesturing to two neat rows of young eunuchs standing behind him.
"Does Father fear we would refuse to leave?" Song Ling struggled to sit up. "We can manage on our own."
"Your Highness, His Majesty has also issued an oral decree. The Second Imperial Grandson will be released tomorrow. Your Highness may send someone to bring him back to the Ping Prince's Mansion."
The moment Wu Qi finished speaking, Song Ling could no longer suppress his anger. "Yan Chao was unjustly imprisoned in the Dali Temple's dungeons by Song Yu—why has Father not held him accountable? This is blatant favoritism toward the Qin Prince's Mansion!"
"A royal grandson who has been imprisoned—does Father not understand the damage this will do to Yan Chao's reputation?"
Wu Qi remained expressionless in the face of Song Ling's accusations.
"Your Highness, at the time, the Second Imperial Grandson also sought to imprison Princess Fu'an in the dungeons without verifying the truth. Thus, His Majesty believes this matter should be dropped."
Wu Qi sneered inwardly.
Back then, it was the Eastern Palace that disregarded Princess Fu'an's reputation, insisting on throwing her into the Dali Temple's dungeons.
Now that the consequences had rebounded onto the Second Imperial Grandson, they had no choice but to swallow their grievances.
Song Ling was so furious he could barely catch his breath, but imperial orders were not to be defied. He had no choice but to lead his family out of the Eastern Palace.
"Father, I don’t want to leave," Song Xiyan sobbed as they stepped out of the Eastern Palace. "Can’t you beg Grandfather again? Ask him not to depose you."
"Silence!"
For the first time, Song Ling publicly snapped at Song Xiyan.
Footsteps approached, and Song Ling looked up to see Song Yu and Song Shihuan.
"Second Brother, I’ve brought A’Huan to see you off."
Wu Qi’s lips twitched at Song Yu’s words—it sounded as though he was sending Prince Ping to his death.
Yet, surprisingly, Song Ling didn’t take offense. Instead, his gaze lingered on Song Shihuan.
To have escaped unscathed from the Cui family’s corpse case...
How could she be a harbinger of misfortune?
"A’Huan, I..." Song Ling reached out to touch Song Shihuan’s face, but she dodged, her rejection unmistakable.
"There may have been some misunderstandings before. If... if you have time, you could visit the Ping Prince's Mansion. We’ll keep a courtyard ready for you." Song Ling’s eyes burned with desperate hope. If A’Huan could change her mind, perhaps there was still a chance for him?
"After all, we share the same blood."
"Enough." Song Yu stepped between them. "Second Brother, kinship is not so easily claimed. To give birth but not raise—that is a sin, not a blessing."
Watching Song Ling’s reaction, Song Xiyan lowered her eyes. Had the mantle of "auspicious star" truly fallen upon Song Shihuan?
Then what would become of her?
"Uncle, the Qin Prince's Mansion is different from yours. It’s just Father and me—if I left, he would be lonely."
Song Shihuan spoke with perfect politeness. "You already have both a son and a daughter. I wouldn’t want to disrupt your family’s fortune."
"Disrupt your fortune."
The words pierced Song Ling’s heart like needles.
The daughter he had scorned was the one blessed with fortune, yet he had pushed her straight into Song Yu’s arms.
"Safe travels, Second Brother. A’Huan and I won’t see you out."
Song Yu waved dismissively and swaggered off with Song Shihuan in tow.
Before leaving, Song Shihuan cast one last glance at the despondent Song Ling.
Dragging this family down from the Eastern Palace—what a joyous occasion.
......
Several days later, the court finally regained its usual "tranquility."
Another minister raised the matter of accompanying Emperor Yuanyou for the Heaven Worship Ceremony.
"Your Majesty, there are only ten days left until the ceremony. The selection of those who will ascend the altar with you must be finalized," Shen Mingwen declared loudly. Instantly, all eyes turned to Song Yu.
Among the Great Qi’s four princes, one had just been deposed as crown prince and was bedridden, while the other two were reportedly recovering from beatings.
The choice was practically self-evident.
"This son is willing to accompany Your Majesty for the ceremony."
Without the slightest hesitation, Song Yu boldly claimed the opportunity.
Having resolved to seize the crown prince’s position, he would begin contending for it now.
"The Heaven Worship Ceremony is an annual event, held to pray for favorable weather, peace, and prosperity," Song Yu said, holding his ceremonial tablet. "As a prince of the Great Qi, accompanying Your Majesty is this son’s duty."
"Excellent!"
Emperor Yuanyou agreed without a moment’s delay, even ordering the palace tailors to craft a new set of princely robes for Song Yu.
After court, Song Yu gleefully recounted his performance to Song Shihuan, shedding all traces of his earlier solemnity.
Shen Qingping, buried in paperwork, had long grown accustomed to this behavior.
"Did Father truly say all that?"
Song Shihuan laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. "I bet Grandfather was thrilled."
Song Yu nodded smugly—the old man had been so delighted he’d even commissioned new clothes for him.
As she gazed at Song Yu, Song Shihuan’s eyes sparkled like stars.
Her plan to nurture her adoptive father seemed to be making progress...
Father was now fighting for himself.
And that was excellent.
Absolutely excellent.
......
A few more days passed, and the eve of the ceremony arrived.
In the Zichen Hall, Emperor Yuanyou looked at Song Yu with deep emotion.
"Grandfather, did you specially order these robes for Father? He looks exceptionally dashing in them." Song Yu wore a nine-tasseled crown, enhancing his noble bearing.
"I’ll have a set made for A’Huan another day," Emperor Yuanyou said, though his gaze remained fixed on Song Yu rather than his usual doting on Song Shihuan.
After a pause, the emperor reached out with his wrinkled hands and adjusted Song Yu’s crown himself.
"Yu’er, the crown must sit straight."
"Father, this nine-tasseled crown keeps blocking my view," Song Yu complained, raising a hand to push it aside.
Emperor Yuanyou stopped him. "Foolish boy! If nine tassels bother you, how will you bear twelve?"
The Son of Heaven wears twelve.
