"Have my daughter wear mourning clothes for someone else?" Song Yu's gaze locked onto Censor Geng, his voice icy. "Are you trying to curse me to death, Censor Geng?"
"I dare not, Your Highness."
Censor Geng's aged legs trembled as he dropped to his knees.
"Your Majesty, I harbor no such intentions as Prince Qin has accused me of," Censor Geng stammered, his heart pounding in his throat. Why was Prince Qin reacting so fiercely?
"Though Princess Fu'an is recorded in the family registry as Prince Qin's daughter, she is ultimately Prince Ping's flesh and blood. If she does not attend the vigil, will she not be accused of being heartless?" Censor Geng spoke earnestly. "The princess is young and may not understand the gravity of the matter. As a censor, it is my duty to raise this issue."
"I second the motion," several other censors who had conspired with Censor Geng the previous day stepped forward in unison.
For a moment, the rest of the court officials bowed their heads, not daring to make a sound.
"Censor Geng, it seems old age has clouded your judgment," Song Yu strode forward until he loomed over the kneeling censor. "It was Prince Ping's household that rejected Ah Huan in the first place. And now you want to force her to mourn for those who abandoned her? What kind of logic is that?"
From his throne, Emperor Yuanyou regarded the censors with displeasure.
He kept these censors to root out corruption in the court, not to have them stir up trouble for him every day.
"Ah Huan already paid her respects at Prince Ping's mansion yesterday, fulfilling her duty as a niece. If anyone dares to target her again, to nitpick and find fault with her—" Song Yu's voice turned frigid. "Don't blame me for turning ruthless."
"The only way Ah Huan will attend Prince Ping's vigil is over my dead body."
His words echoed through the hall.
As the two sides stood in stalemate, Emperor Yuanyou spoke coldly, "Does the court have no other pressing matters to discuss?"
With that single sentence, the censors immediately fell silent.
......
They had assumed the matter of the vigil would fade away if left unresolved. Yet when Song Yu saw Song Yanchao and Song Yanming standing at the gates of the Qin Prince's Mansion in mourning robes, his face darkened like scorched iron.
The situation had escalated beyond control.
"When Father was gravely ill, he struggled to reach out for Ah Huan," Song Yanchao sobbed uncontrollably. "Father never forgot her. We ask for nothing more than for Ah Huan to join us in keeping vigil for just one day—to repay Father for giving her life."
Song Yanming supported his brother, his face equally grief-stricken.
The two had come to the Qin Prince's Mansion under Shen Hua'er's instructions. With Prince Ping gone, their future was uncertain.
But the Qin Prince's Mansion was thriving, and they needed to forge a connection.
Song Shihuan was the perfect link.
If she agreed to attend the vigil, it would mean acknowledging Prince Ping's role in her life. In the future, they could use their father's memory as leverage to seek favors from the Qin Prince's Mansion.
"Ah Huan, I beg you as your second brother."
Sanxi stood guard at the gates, but the commotion caused by Song Yanchao and Song Yanming had drawn a crowd of onlookers. Strangely, this time, the people did not side with the Ping Prince's sons in criticizing the Qin Prince's Mansion.
"I heard it was Prince Ping's household who refused to acknowledge Princess Fu'an and even wanted to send her to the imperial temple," someone in the crowd whispered.
"Exactly! The poor girl was in such a pitiful state back then," another voice chimed in. "My niece works in the palace—she said the princess was as thin as a kitten, shorter than any ten-year-old child."
"Prince Qin is kind-hearted. He took her in and raised her. Now she's even defeated that Great Yue princess and brought glory to us all," an elderly woman glared at Song Yanchao and Song Yanming. "Attending Prince Ping's vigil is a gesture of goodwill, not an obligation. Why must they force our princess?"
Seeing the crowd unexpectedly siding with Song Shihuan, the two brothers were stunned.
Since when had these commoners become her supporters?
The next moment, Song Yu grabbed Song Yanming by the collar. "Why aren't you two mourning at the Ping Prince's Mansion instead of crying at my gates?"
"I am neither dead nor your father."
Song Yanchao's tears halted mid-stream. "Uncle, why must you speak so harshly? We only wish to fulfill our filial duties for Father one last time."
Song Yu let out a cold laugh.
His fury had reached its peak.
"Liuxi, fetch me a feather duster."
Within moments, Song Yu had rolled up his sleeves, brandishing the duster like a weapon as he advanced on the brothers.
"You want Ah Huan to mourn for your father? Fine. Let me make things clear today."
"Who was it who scorned Ah Huan at the birthday banquet, refusing to acknowledge her as his daughter?" The duster sliced through the air, followed by Song Yanchao's piercing wail.
Even the spectators recoiled, afraid of being caught in the crossfire.
"Who came to the Qin Prince's Mansion the moment they returned to the capital, trying to humiliate Ah Huan?" Another swing landed on Song Yanming.
"Who schemed against Ah Huan at the girls' academy?"
"Who plotted the poisoned porridge incident to harm us?"
"Who fanned the flames during the Cui family corpse case to frame Ah Huan?"
With each accusation, the duster struck harder, sending the brothers scrambling in panic. Their once-pristine mourning robes were now filthy from the scuffle.
The crowd listened intently, their expressions shifting to disdain as they realized the extent of the brothers' schemes.
How despicable—plotting against their beloved princess!
Just then, Censor Geng arrived with his entourage. Despite his age, he moved swiftly to block Song Yu, declaring with righteous indignation:
"Your Highness, how can you raise a hand against your own brother's orphaned sons?"
"No matter what grievances existed between Prince Ping and the princess, death erases all grudges. But blood ties cannot be denied. If the princess does not attend the vigil, how can she live with herself?"
"I live with myself just fine."
Song Shihuan stepped out of the mansion, the blazing sun behind her casting a glare so intense it made Censor Geng squint.
"My father is alive and well. For me to mourn another would be true unfilial conduct."
To be rebutted by a ten-year-old left Censor Geng red-faced.
"The Classic of Filial Piety states: 'Our bodies, hair, and skin are received from our parents.' If the princess refuses to mourn Prince Ping, does she not wound the heart of Prince Ping's still-living consort?"
As Song Yu raised the duster toward Censor Geng, a stir rippled through the crowd.
Prince Ping's consort, supported by Chang Ling'er, stepped forward.
"Censor Geng, you overstep your bounds."
