The Crown Prince thought he must have misheard.
He looked into Wei Qingrong’s eyes—clear and pure like a spring, shimmering with eagerness and hope.
It felt absurd to him.
Softly, he said, "Stop this nonsense. Leave."
Wei Qingrong didn’t move. Instead, she continued, "I’m serious. I want to stay in the Eastern Palace with you, Your Highness. Perhaps you don’t remember me, but I’ve seen you many times—at palace banquets, during your investigations among the people. I’ve admired you for a very, very long time."
The Crown Prince remained unmoved. He had his own judgment.
Wei Qingrong’s presence here could only mean one thing: she was here for The Eighteenth Prince, for the City Patrol Office. If he were to pass away, the Duke of Wei’s faction would have a greater chance at seizing the throne.
But still… marrying a sickly man like him, doomed to die soon, and condemning his only daughter to widowhood at a young age—how could the Duke of Wei agree to this?
The Crown Prince fixed his gaze on her and said, "Thank you for your ‘admiration,’ but I have no use for it. Please leave. Whatever scheme you and the Duke of Wei are plotting, don’t waste your time on me. The Emperor won’t choose a new heir based on whether you’re the Crown Princess. You can tell the Duke of Wei that forcing you into the Eastern Palace is a terrible move—it won’t help The Eighteenth Prince."
Wei Qingrong paused, then laughed. "So that’s what worries you. The Eighteenth Prince is only two years old—how could he have ambitions for the throne? …Your Highness, do you have someone you love?"
The Crown Prince shook his head.
With his frail body, he could die any day. Why drag an innocent girl into his misfortune?
"I thought not." Wei Qingrong took his hand, her voice brimming with hope. "Then marry me, Your Highness. I want to be your wife, to care for you, protect you, and accompany you through whatever time we have left."
The Crown Prince’s hand trembled slightly.
Sweet words were easy to say, but once she married him, she would realize the Eastern Palace was an abyss—once fallen into, there was no escape.
He pulled his hand away. "I’m sorry. I won’t marry you."
There would be no "time left."
He didn’t have long to live.
Wei Qingrong leaned closer. "Are you worried my father won’t agree? You might not know this, but I’m dearly cherished at home. No one dares to cross me—not even my father. He said as long as you send a betrothal letter, he’ll allow the marriage."
The Crown Prince couldn’t comprehend it. "This is madness…"
Wei Qingrong replied, "It’s not madness at all. The Crown Prince is beloved by the people. My father would be overjoyed to have me marry such a noble and respected man."
The Crown Prince couldn’t tell if she was sincere or not.
Seeing his hesitation, Wei Qingrong changed tactics, speaking earnestly, "Your Highness, with me protecting the Eastern Palace, you’ll have more time to serve the people. Isn’t that what you desire?"
For a moment, the Crown Prince wavered—but then he shook his head firmly. "Even so, it shouldn’t come at the cost of your life. The price is too heavy. I won’t take it."
"I don’t want repayment," Wei Qingrong said firmly. "All I ask is that you live well and let me protect you."
The Crown Prince gave a bitter smile.
Even living was a struggle for him.
Wei Qingrong stood up. Just as the Crown Prince thought she would leave, the young woman turned and walked to his desk.
She began writing.
The Crown Prince wanted to see what she was writing, but he hadn’t eaten lunch and had been sitting on the floor for too long. His body lacked the strength to rise, so he closed his eyes and waited.
Before long, Wei Qingrong returned with a folded document and an ink pad. She placed them before him, letting him see the contents clearly.
—It was a betrothal letter.
From the Crown Prince to Wei Qingrong, eldest daughter of the Duke of Wei, pledging marriage.
And it already bore the Crown Prince’s seal.
Wei Qingrong said, "Since the words weren’t written by Your Highness’s own hand, it’s best to add your fingerprint. That way, neither my father nor anyone else can question its validity."
The Crown Prince stared at her in shock, his voice nearly breaking. "What are you doing? You—"
Wei Qingrong smiled. "Your Highness, you worry about dragging me into misfortune, but you don’t realize this is what I’ve dreamed of. Since I’m willing to marry into the Eastern Palace, and you have no beloved, why stop me?"
The Crown Prince struggled. "No… this is reckless. You’ll regret it."
Wei Qingrong’s voice was unwavering. "I won’t regret it, Your Highness. Please believe me."
With that, she took Chu Heng’s hand and pressed it into the ink pad.
The Crown Prince couldn’t break free. Never had he imagined being forced into marriage—especially when he was nearing death.
"Wei… Qingrong!" The Crown Prince fought back.
But the young woman held his ink-stained hand firmly and pressed it onto the betrothal letter, like a bandit forcing her way into his broken world.
The Crown Prince despaired.
Tears glistened in his eyes as he asked, voice trembling, "Why… why act so rashly?"
Wei Qingrong’s smile faded, replaced by solemnity. "I’ve never been rash, Your Highness. We’ll have plenty of time for you to understand me."
It all felt like a dream to the Crown Prince.
The young woman hurried away with the betrothal letter, leaving behind only the lingering warmth of the hand-warmer in his lap and the faint red stain on his fingertip.
The Crown Prince muttered in resignation, "She’s mad… everyone’s gone mad."
The marriage between the Eastern Palace and the Duke of Wei’s household sent shockwaves through the court.
A fallen Crown Prince wedding the only daughter of a powerful noble—this meant the entire Duke of Wei faction had aligned with the Crown Prince.
The long-anticipated dethronement never came to pass.
Chu Heng’s precarious position as Crown Prince grew steadier.
The following spring, on the twelfth day of the first month—an auspicious day for weddings—the Eastern Palace held its grand ceremony.
Dressed in crimson wedding robes, the Crown Prince showed no trace of joy. It was as if he weren’t there to marry, but to drag an innocent girl into his personal hell.
The mistake had already been made. He had no choice but to proceed.
"The rites are complete—"
"This servant congratulates the Crown Prince and Crown Princess! May your union last a hundred years, and may you be blessed with heirs!"
As the wedding matron’s voice faded, they were now husband and wife.
True to her word, Wei Qingrong devoted herself to protecting the Crown Prince in the days that followed.
At the wedding banquet, when The Sixth Prince tried to force alcohol on the Crown Prince, she slapped him twice—asserting her authority as the rightful Crown Princess and silencing the crowd.
The morning after the wedding, she purged the Eastern Palace of disloyal servants who had neglected the Crown Prince, cleansing the household inside and out.
Whenever the Crown Prince worked, a cup of hot tea sat on his desk, replaced the moment it cooled.
The imperial kitchen’s deliveries to the Eastern Palace were strictly monitored—any dish harmful to the Crown Prince’s health was barred.
Even when imperial physicians came to examine the Crown Prince, a renowned doctor from outside the palace stood watch, ready to expose any irregularities.
In just a few days, the Eastern Palace was transformed.
When the Crown Prince emerged from his work, Wei Qingrong approached with a smile, looping her arm through his. "Your Highness, I’ve dealt with those gossiping palace maids. As for the others you’re accustomed to, I’ll hold off replacing them for now. We can address them later—does that suit you?"
Though uncertain whether her overhaul of his household held ulterior motives, the Crown Prince could see her genuine efforts to care for him. For the first time, he dared to believe: perhaps someone truly had come for him alone.
Chu Heng replied softly, "You may replace anyone… except Huaishui."
From a very young age, Huaishui had been by his side—a gift from his father, the emperor, and his most trusted and capable aide.
"Very well," Wei Qingrong replied, now free to act with greater resolve.
Given her powerful family background and her status as the Crown Princess, many who might have disrespected the ailing Crown Prince had no choice but to uphold proper decorum out of deference to her.
Late at night, when all was quiet,
the couple lay side by side in bed, maintaining a polite distance.
The lamp remained lit as Wei Qingrong turned to him and said, "Your Highness, I want to kiss you, but I don’t dare."
Though they had been married for some time, their union remained unconsummated—not even a kiss had been shared.
Hearing such bold words, Chu Heng felt warmth creeping up to the tips of his ears. He subtly shifted closer to the corner of the bed.
Wei Qingrong noticed but continued, "I long to be someone truly close to Your Highness, to share every intimacy the world allows. Yet you stand like an unattainable jade tree—so revered that one hesitates to even reach out, as if touching you would be a defilement."
Chu Heng pressed his lips together and murmured, "You’re the only one who thinks that way. I’m just an ordinary man."
And not even an ordinary man’s health, at that.
"No," Wei Qingrong told him. "To many, Your Highness is a light in the darkness. I believe countless people wish for you to live well. It’s only by chance that I’ve been given the privilege of caring for you, so you see no one but me."
