The wedding date was announced to the Eastern Palace.
The Crown Prince stared at the words "Great Misfortune" written on the divination slip, veins throbbing on his forehead.
"His Majesty has gone too far, humiliating us like this."
"It is this son's incompetence..." Song Yanzheng, dressed only in his undergarments, had pale lips. In just two days, he had grown noticeably haggard.
"What should we do?" Song Xiyan's eyes were red from crying. "Everyone outside is gossiping about us now... I don’t even dare go to the women's academy anymore."
She had once been the esteemed Princess Fuyun, but now she was merely the Second Princess, someone everyone felt free to criticize behind her back.
The Crown Prince looked at Song Xiyan, her makeup ruined by tears, and couldn’t help but recall Song Yu’s claim that Song Shihuan was a harbinger of good fortune.
His heart trembled slightly.
"Since things have come to this, let’s just bring her into the family first."
The Crown Prince sighed heavily. "With your grandmother’s health deteriorating, the Eastern Palace’s situation will only grow more precarious. We underestimated Song Yu in the past."
His expression darkened. Yanzheng was ruined.
But he still had two other sons—Yanchao and Yanming.
No matter how favored Song Yu was, he still didn’t have a single heir to carry on his bloodline.
This thought eased the Crown Prince’s bitterness somewhat.
...
However, the Eastern Palace had underestimated the power of a "Great Misfortune" day.
On the wedding day, Song Yanzheng sat atop his horse as the procession made its way toward the imperial prison in a somber march.
Song Yu had deliberately reserved a private teahouse room overlooking the street. When the bridal party passed by, three heads popped out in unison.
"Why does the groom look so mournful? It’s like he’s heading to a funeral," Song Yu remarked with a click of his tongue.
Just then, the shrill sound of funeral suonas erupted, startling Song Yu so badly he nearly knocked his chin against Song Shihuan’s head.
"They’ve actually run into a funeral procession," Shen Qingping said, his tone dripping with sympathy, though the corners of his mouth were nearly splitting from suppressed laughter.
"It’s the Gu family’s procession," Song Shihuan said solemnly, her small frame nearly crushed under the weight of her father and Shen Qingping leaning over her.
"Ah Huan, how do you know that?" Song Yu noticed something odd and looked down at the little girl in his arms.
"It’s the funeral for the son of the Gu family’s old steward’s younger brother," Song Shihuan blinked innocently. "Today is an auspicious day for funerals—what a coincidence."
"Cough, cough—"
Shen Qingping choked on his own saliva, his handsome face turning red.
Song Yu, however, chuckled and tapped Song Shihuan’s head. Truly his daughter—brilliantly done!
On the street below, the Gu family’s old steward knelt in panic. "Your Highness, forgive this lowly one! Delaying your joyous occasion is a crime punishable by death!"
"Rise."
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, and mindful of his past schemes against the Gu family, Song Yanzheng had no choice but to swallow his anger.
His expression grew even darker.
At the imperial prison, Song Yanzheng looked at Chang Ling’er in her bridal robes and felt as though his life was ending right then and there.
"Cousin, you’ve finally come to marry me."
Chang Ling’er’s public declaration made Song Yanzheng’s chest heave with fury.
"Get in the sedan."
Meanwhile, in the teahouse, Song Yu stood slowly. "We should head to the Eastern Palace to witness the ceremony."
...
The Eastern Palace was decked in festive red, yet an eerie chill hung in the air.
Court officials arrived to offer forced congratulations, though they all knew this was no joyous occasion—it might as well have been a funeral.
The Crown Prince and Crown Princess only appeared when it was time for the ceremonial bows. Emperor Yuanyou, however, never even sent a word, let alone made an appearance.
"First bow—to Heaven and Earth!"
As soon as the Master of Ceremonies Eunuch spoke, a thunderbolt cracked across the sky, startling him so badly he dropped his horsetail whisk.
The sight of Song Yanzheng and Chang Ling’er kneeling under the wrath of the heavens made the onlookers whisper—even the heavens disapproved of the Eastern Palace’s deeds.
Song Shihuan, however, felt her blood boiling with satisfaction.
Cold-hearted betrayers deserved to be struck by lightning.
The Crown Prince, catching the disdainful glances of the crowd, felt his vision darken, his head pounding.
"Second bow—to the parents!"
The eunuch’s voice wavered slightly this time, his eyes darting around nervously, as if fearing another disaster.
But when the couple bowed to the Crown Prince and Crown Princess, the Crown Prince remained motionless.
The Crown Princess turned to him—then gasped and shot to her feet.
"Your Highness, your face—!"
The Crown Prince’s face was twisted, his mouth drooling, his hands trembling uncontrollably—a terrifying sight.
"Call the imperial physician! Now!"
Chaos erupted. The Crown Princess ordered servants to carry the Crown Prince away, then forced herself to address the guests. "The ceremony will continue."
Song Yu could only lower his head to hide his laughter.
Perfect.
Every word from the Master of Ceremonies Eunuch seemed to herald another catastrophe for the Eastern Palace.
The eunuch gulped.
Frankly, he feared that if he spoke again, he might not live to see another day.
"Since the Crown Princess insists, let the ceremony proceed," Song Yu said cheerfully. He was eager to see what would happen during the final bow.
"Husband and wife—bow to each other!"
The eunuch squeezed his eyes shut, too afraid to watch.
To everyone’s surprise, Song Yanzheng and Chang Ling’er completed the bow without incident.
Just as Song Yanzheng began to relax, Chang Ling’er’s sweet voice rang out:
"Your Highness, this humble wife will fulfill her duties as your princess consort and bear you many heirs."
Heirs.
Unbeknownst to her, the incense she had inhaled for years had robbed her of motherhood.
Her words struck Song Yanzheng like a blade.
With a choked gasp, he spat out a mouthful of blood.
The hall descended into pandemonium.
Guests offered hasty congratulations before fleeing, desperate to escape the Eastern Palace’s cursed misfortune.
"I’ve never seen a wedding like this," Song Yu sighed, though inwardly he was overjoyed. "What a tragedy."
"Truly," Prince Chu echoed insincerely.
"Physician Mei is here!"
Song Shihuan called out as she spotted Mei Zhilin’s dutiful figure. She was eager to know what had befallen the Crown Prince.
After examining him, Mei Zhilin’s expression turned grave. "His Highness shows signs of apoplexy."
"Apoplexy? But my brother is so young!" Song Yu rushed to the bedside and loudly declared, "Brother, don’t worry! Physician Mei will cure your—apoplexy!"
He emphasized the word "apoplexy" with relish, ensuring the Crown Prince heard it clearly.
A strangled groan escaped the Crown Prince’s lips.
