The Eastern Palace, Bedchamber.
The sunlight was just right.
A frail seventeen-year-old boy sat at his desk reviewing memorials when a sudden tightness in his chest made him cough up blood.
"Your Highness, are you alright?" The palace maids, who had just entered carrying food, were startled by the sight.
Crown Prince Chu Heng coughed lightly twice, tucked away the blood-stained handkerchief, and said softly, "I’m fine. You may leave."
"As you wish." The maids exchanged glances before obediently withdrawing.
Not long after, hushed whispers drifted in from outside the hall: "The Crown Prince won’t last much longer. His health is failing. Won’t we soon have to serve a new master?"
"A new master might be better. Everyone knows the Empress’s clan was deposed. A Crown Prince without maternal support is nothing but a joke."
"True. The Emperor has so many other sons. The Crown Prince will surely be deposed soon—likely before the year ends."
"We should start making inquiries with the other princes’ palaces now. Better not miss the chance to curry favor while we can."
"Right, take me with you. Let’s go together..."
The voices outside grew distant, but the Crown Prince heard every word.
Trained in martial arts since childhood, his hearing was far sharper than most. Yet even upon hearing such disloyal talk, he felt no deep disappointment.
It was only natural for people to seek better prospects.
But still...
It stung a little.
Frowning, the Crown Prince tried to dispel the turmoil in his heart. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court had retired, and the newly appointed official lacked experience, leading to a backlog of wrongful cases. The people’s grievances were mounting.
"Someone must be sent to assist him..."
Seated at his desk, the Crown Prince carefully considered who could go and who would be suitable. After much deliberation, he settled on a candidate and sent Huaishui out on the task.
When he finally remembered to eat, the food had gone cold. In the past, when he studied with Zong Zhao, he often forgot meals and ate whatever was left, even if cold. But now, with his body so fragile, cold food would trigger stomach pains and worsen his coughing fits.
The Crown Prince tried to rise and rest on the daybed, but the moment he stood, the world spun. He collapsed to the floor, tumbling down the steps before losing consciousness.
He didn’t know how much time had passed.
The glow of the setting sun pierced through the windows, rousing him. He wanted to call for Huaishui but remembered he had sent him away.
The floor beneath him was icy. As he shielded his eyes from the light with his sleeve, a stark realization struck him: No one had noticed he had lain unconscious for so long. No one cared if he died in this hall.
He was like an extra, clinging to the title of Crown Prince... merely surviving.
The palace was deathly silent, devoid of any warmth.
Beloved by thousands outside these walls, the Crown Prince now curled into himself, burying his face in his arms. Like a condemned prisoner awaiting execution, he braced for the edict of his deposition—for death’s summons.
At dusk, a maid’s voice sounded outside the door: "Your Highness, Wei Qingrong, daughter of the Duke of Wei, requests an audience."
The Crown Prince barely registered the words. His mind was hazy.
He couldn’t tell if this was illusion or reality.
Then a woman pushed open the doors to his bedchamber. Backlit by the fading light, her figure was slender yet not frail, her steps steady and strong—a martial artist.
Wei Qingrong hurried over when she saw him sitting desolately on the floor, kneeling beside him. "Your Highness, the floor is freezing. Why are you sitting here?"
The Crown Prince studied her unfamiliar face and asked hoarsely, "Who are you?"
For her to enter the Eastern Palace unannounced... Had his bedchamber been left unguarded?
Wei Qingrong replied gently, "I’m here to help you. My name is Wei Qingrong. I’m the Duke of Wei’s daughter."
The Crown Prince parsed her words carefully. "The Duke of Wei..."
The Duke of Wei’s faction was the second most powerful in court, after Luo Jingfeng’s. His sister’s son was the Eighteenth Prince.
Wei Qingrong was the Eighteenth Prince’s cousin.
The Crown Prince tensed, his voice guarded. "What business do you have with me?"
Wei Qingrong nodded. "I heard you weren’t faring well in the Eastern Palace, so I came to see you. Your Highness, let me help you up. The floor is too cold—sitting too long will make you ill."
She reached for his hand and found it as icy as expected. But before she could warm it, the Crown Prince pulled away, putting distance between them.
He turned his face aside, eyes downcast. "I’m fine. I just want to sit here. You should go. A private meeting between a man and a woman would harm your reputation."
Seeing she couldn’t persuade him, Wei Qingrong simply sat beside him. "Then I’ll sit with you."
The Crown Prince turned to her, baffled.
What was this woman’s sudden appearance about?
Wei Qingrong met his gaze with a smile. "Your Highness, it’s late. Have you eaten? Your lips look dry—have you had water? Let me fetch you some."
Without waiting for a reply, she sprang up, only to find the water in the chamber had long gone cold. In the dead of winter, no one could bear drinking ice-cold water.
She took the pitcher outside and soon returned with hot water and a small hand warmer.
Cradling the pitcher in one hand, she pressed the warmer into the Crown Prince’s palms. "Here, warm your hands with this. I’ll pour you water."
The Crown Prince clutched the forced warmth, feeling heat seep from his palms into his core, thawing his frozen limbs.
Wei Qingrong knelt before him again, offering a cup. "Your Highness, drink."
He stared at her without taking it.
Wei Qingrong thought for a moment. "Too tired to move? Let me help you..."
The Crown Prince tried to lean away, but the wall blocked him. She brought the cup to his lips, coaxing like one would a child. "Just a sip. It’ll make you feel better."
He lifted his eyes, meeting hers directly. "What did you put in it?"
A stranger, affiliated with another prince’s faction, barging into his palace to eagerly offer water—anyone would be suspicious.
Wei Qingrong froze, the cup suspended in midair.
The Crown Prince wanted to expose her but softened. "If I die here, you’ll be implicated. There’s no need to take such a risk... I won’t last much longer anyway."
Even if she sought to aid the Eighteenth Prince’s bid for the throne, there was no need for such haste—or such blatance.
Her heart ached at his words.
This brilliant young Crown Prince, once the pride of the nation, had been reduced to a man expecting assassination at any moment. Yet even now, he warned her against danger instead of lashing out.
Such kindness, and yet fate had shown him no mercy.
Her eyes reddened. She took a sip from the cup before offering it again, smiling. "See? No poison. I truly just want you to drink."
The Crown Prince hesitated, then grasped for another excuse. "You’ve drunk from this cup. It’s improper for men and women to share..."
Wei Qingrong grinned. "Then you’ll just have to marry me."
With that, she deliberately turned the cup around, pressing it directly against the Crown Prince's lips. She chuckled softly, "Forgive my impertinence, Your Highness. I promise not to do this again."
Chu Heng shuddered, his fingers involuntarily tightening.
The spot where his lips touched was exactly where she had just sipped from...
Since the age of fifteen, his health had been declining steadily. Burdened with court affairs and the successive misfortunes of his maternal clan, he had lost all interest in matters of romance. To this day, the Eastern Palace had no mistress.
The Crown Prince refused to drink, his lips faintly chapped.
"My apologies," Wei Qingrong said, one hand tilting his chin while the other held the cup, coaxing yet firm as she made him drink.
Weak from illness, the Crown Prince struggled briefly before his strength gave out. Though the warm water soothed his body, being forced to drink by a woman wounded his pride.
He turned his face away, a flash of shame crossing his features. Anger simmered within him, but he was powerless—only wishing for this woman to leave at once.
Noticing some color returning to his complexion, Wei Qingrong knelt before him once more, softening her voice. "Your Highness, I know you are a Crown Prince who cares deeply for the people. But you’ve walked this path alone for too long. Let me stand by your side and shield you from the storms ahead... Will you take me as your wife?"
