Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Du Ruzhen was a genius.

Hence, at a young age, he became nationally renowned, ascending to the exalted position of a top-ranked official.

Even if he was a mad dog, it didn’t detract from this fact.

Xue Fuguang merely pointed out a path for him and then showed no further intention of interference.

And that was sufficient.

Du Ruzhen's capacity for action was formidable.

With the power and manpower at his disposal, if he were to truly unleash his fury, he could certainly make a significant impact within the imperial city.

That day, the Empress woke up and met with her family.

After being implicated by the Sixth Prince’s faction, the Liu family, though not entirely brought down, suffered some influence and was demoted by the Emperor from first-rank to just below, stripped of many responsibilities.

The Liu family was intent on recovery, but to their dismay, the Crown Prince they heavily relied on died unexpectedly in the Eastern Palace.

With their champion gone, the remaining Crown Prince’s faction was nothing more than scattered sand, necessitating the search for a new avenue.

This meant the Liu family was finally out of the fray.

Madam Liu, with tears in her eyes, went to the palace and entered the Empress's chambers.

The Empress was a shadow of her former self, having lost more than half of her regal charm and looking years older overnight, as if aged by decades.

Madam Liu consoled her, “Your Majesty must not be so heartbroken. You must preserve your health! The household relies on your support, not to mention the Crown Prince's vengeance unclaimed.”

The Empress, massaging her temples, found speaking an effort, “I too wish to take care of myself. But come night, my dreams are haunted by the Crown Prince. I dream of his childhood, clinging to my legs, so small, crying for me to save him.”

She couldn't help but show a mother’s grief, “Every time I see him in my dreams, I wake up in terror. He always asks why I did not save him; now I am even afraid to sleep.”

Madam Liu, a mother herself, was once the Empress’s close confidante and felt deep empathy, her eyes reddening with shared sorrow.

Just then, a man’s voice suddenly filled the chamber.

Deep and magnetic, starkly different from the shrill tones of the eunuchs, he said, “Your Majesty is in such pain, do you truly wish to avenge the Crown Prince? If so, I can offer my assistance.”

Everyone in the great hall was startled, and some maids even screamed out loud.

The Empress saw a figure emerging from behind the screen where Madam Liu stood, dressed in eunuch attire but tall in stature, which clashed with his garb.

The Empress’s eyelids twitched violently, and she raised her hand to silence them sharply, “Silence! Everyone shut your mouths!”

Dropping her hand from her temple, she commanded her chief maid, “Go, instruct them to guard the palace gate. If someone tries to enter, they must be alert.”

After these words, her eyes turned icy, “Today, anyone who should not be in this hall shall keep their mouths shut.”

The chief maid hurried off at her command, arranging affairs within the palace.

The few young maids were also gagged and dragged away.

The hall was then left with only the Empress, Madam Liu, and three personal attendants.

Lady Liu was genuinely startled; this place was deep within the palace harem, where even the imperial guards rarely patrolled.

Moreover, it was within the Empress’s own palace.

However, she did not utter a sound but instead concealed her surprised expression and bowed her head to sip her tea.

The Empress gazed coldly at the figure before the screen, "Minister Du, you are quite bold to sneak into the inner palace. Are you aware that this is a capital offense?"

Du Ru'an responded with a slight smile, "Your Majesty is well aware that your humble servant has taken such great risks only to offer you my support. Surely, Your Majesty will not treat me unfairly in the future."

He did not beat around the bush with the Empress for too long.

The Empress was single-mindedly focused on avenging the Crown Prince, and he was in no position to disagree.

He wished, almost immediately, to have the Sixth Prince dead.

Pulling out a scroll of paper from his sleeve, he presented it with both hands, "Your Majesty might as well take a look to see if my visit is worthwhile and trustworthy."

The Empress waved her hand, signaling a palace maid beside her to fetch the document whose contents were unknown, for her inspection.

The stack of papers was quite thick, roughly a dozen sheets in a glance.

The Empress flipped through them in her hands, and the chamber fell into a silence punctuated only by the slight rustling of paper.

Lady Liu's eyes lifted slightly to observe Du Ru'an.

She saw his confident demeanor, as if he had already anticipated the final outcome, even though the Empress had yet to speak.

His smile was polite, like a refined gentleman, but the smile was distinctly cold, revealing a dark urgency and resentment in his eyes.

This resentment was naturally not directed at the Empress or her; his sole purpose for coming today was clear—it was directed at the Sixth Prince.

She couldn't help but be curious; what had the Sixth Prince done to anger this favored young talent of the Emperor to such an extent?

How was this for a turn of events? Even if the Crown Prince had died, wasn't this a divine aid to her Liu family?

The complexion of the Empress changed with each page she turned.

Towards the end, even she might not have known what expression to wear.

Logically, she should have kept her emotions steady, not letting Du Ru'an read too much into them, and should have been more cautious, taking time to consider how much to trust Du Ru'an.

The papers in her hands seemed to weigh over a thousand pounds.

Once lifted, she could not put them down again, fearing there would be no second chance to pick them up.

She wished to imprint every single character on those pages into her memory instantly.

The Empress’s lips trembled slightly, a detail only those close to her could discern.

Du Ru'an, standing a bit farther away, was keenly observing the Empress's expressions, confident that his gambit was correct.

The list of officials in the Empress’s hands, along with their charges, was the accumulation of years of service in the court by him; releasing it could intimidate many officials into obeying his orders.

Moreover, he had detailed how to start with minor charges against certain officials to initiate a chain reaction that would bring down many.

Considering the current state of power held by the Empress and the Liu family, they would greatly need such information.

After finishing her review, the Empress took a deep breath of cool air, forcing her mind to clarity before speaking, "This palace wishes to know why Minister Du would assist both me and the Liu family. To my knowledge, Minister Du has little to no rapport with the Crown Prince."

Du Ru'an’s expression was grave: "Whether I had relations with the Crown Prince is immaterial; what matters is that I have a vendetta against Prince Liu. The enemy of my enemy is my friend—Your Majesty must surely understand this adage."

The Empress, holding onto her last thread of rationality, pressed, "What vendetta?"

The Empress was no fool.

The Liu family, once allied with the Crown Prince’s faction, is now in decline, though they once shone brightly.

Du Ru'an, with a mix of truth and deception, said, "I had an old acquaintance with Xiu Jin. The Sixth Prince caused his death; I must avenge this profound grudge. Furthermore, with the Crown Prince gone, if the Sixth Prince becomes preeminent, my past actions would be scrutinized as suppression by him. Even with the Emperor's favor and protection, if the Sixth Prince becomes the heir, I will inevitably fall into his hands one day."

"I would not appreciate such a day."

The Empress looked at him steadily: "Minister Du, remember what you said today."

Du Ru'an nodded: "I will certainly remember. Your Majesty mourns for the Crown Prince and wishes to protect your maternal home; you should understand my feelings. I too have parents and a sister, and I do not wish for them to fall into tragedy while I stand powerless."

The Empress pressed the stack of papers on the table, her hand resting on top.

"Does Minister Du have a detailed plan?" The Empress was quite willing to trust the intellect of Du Ru'an.

Du Ru'an continued, "Among the Emperor's surviving sons, only the Sixth Prince is capable of handling state affairs. The only other elder prince, the Twelfth, was personally raised by Consort Hui and shares a deep bond with the Sixth Prince; he would not contend with him. With the Sixth Prince's family dominating, the position of the heir apparent is within their grasp."

"Despite the Emperor's lingering doubts following the Crown Prince's demise, it's likely that his suspicions will be quelled, inevitably placing the Sixth Prince on the pedestal of the heir apparent."

The Empress clenched her temples, throbbing painfully at the mere thought of courtiers addressing the Sixth Prince as 'His Highness the Crown Prince'—a title that should have been her son's by birthright, the true heir, not usurped by a fratricidal younger brother.

Her son was the legitimate Crown Prince, the eldest son born of the empress. How could she possibly allow a brother-slayer to steal his rightful place?

She would never permit it.

Du Ru'an continued, "With the current favorable circumstances surrounding the Sixth Prince, he's not as desperate as before. He's convinced that no one else stands a chance to contest the throne. What Your Majesty needs to do is to unsettle this complacency, make him restless, and believe that the Emperor harbors doubts and is reluctant to designate him as the successor."

The Empress interrupted, raising her hand, "If Master Du understands the Emperor's mindset so well, then you should also know that it's not within my power to sway his will." If only she shared a bond with the Emperor, it might have been possible.

Regrettably, despite being married to the Emperor since their youth, theirs was a marriage of alliance between families. The Emperor had ascended to the throne with the support of her Liú family, only to turn his efforts to weakening her maternal house thereafter. It was only her decisive actions that had maintained the stability of the Liú family till now.

The Emperor respected her to a certain extent, the rest of his deference owed to her position as the Crown Prince's mother, and as the Empress.

With the Crown Prince gone, her status as the Empress wasn't as influential as before.

Du Ru'an said, "What prevents Her Majesty from influencing the Emperor's thoughts?" His smile was gentle as he spoke softly, "All you need to do is to convince the Noble Consort and the Sixth Prince that you have the power to sway the Emperor's will. You must instill a sense of urgency in them, to believe that if they wait any longer, the Emperor's thoughts might shift in an unpredictable manner."

"Thus, they will be provoked into action for the succession."

Du Ru'an had a pleasant appearance.

Like a piece of fine, smooth jade, his luster was subdued, his presence quietly dignified.

That was precisely what the Emperor admired in him—none of the rashness or impetuousness of youth.

Yet now, from this seemingly gentle jade, the Empress discerned a hint of chilling resolve.

A façade of refined jade, but inside wrapped a core of cold, unyielding stone.

He spoke with a lightness that belied the gravity of his words, "Since the Sixth Prince has already committed fratricide, regicide would seem a mere step away. History is replete with such struggles for the throne."

The Empress felt a chill crawl up her spine.

But her thoughts returned to the Crown Prince.

And the Emperor's disposition towards the Sixth Prince.

Particularly at the time of the Crown Prince's death, the Sixth Prince was present in the Eastern Palace. Such an overt clue, yet the Emperor seemed blind to it, showing no intention to investigate further, fixated solely on rooting out spies from the State of Yíng.

While rooting out spies from the State of Yíng is of utmost importance, the Sixth Prince himself is far from untainted and innocent.

The Empress's gaze grew cold, her eyes a mirror of Du Ru'an's chilling resolve, as she spoke with a simmering intensity, "Master Du speaks the truth. Such a nature, cruel and venomous, stopping at nothing for the throne. To commit fratricide or patricide is nothing but a trifle for him; he's well-practiced in these heinous acts."

"A person like that deserves death."

Du Ru'an smiled.

At this point, he should have held his tongue and taken his leave.

Yet Du Ru'an pressed on, "Has Your Majesty formulated a plan?"

The Empress, seeing Du Ru'an beginning to proactively scheme and make arrangements, stared at him intently, "Please, speak your mind, Master."

Du Ru'an said, "The Emperor is suffering the profound grief of losing a son, and his health has taken a hit. Weakness invites sickness, and the recent plague has only just receded. The Sixth Prince, having taken the lead in managing the plague, has undoubtedly been exposed to its miasma. If he were to spend too much time with the Emperor and transmit the disease, it would be most unfortunate."

Lady Liú's hand trembled, causing the lid of her tea to clink against the cup with a crisp, porcelain sound.

Du Ru'an turned his head to glance at her, his smile unchanging.

A chill ran down Lady Liú's back.

She did not possess the Empress's composure.

Had she known what today would bring, she would have postponed her visit to another day.

Du Ru'an bowed respectfully, "It is getting late, and I should not linger too long in the palace. I beg Your Majesty's forgiveness for my departure."

The Empress lowered her eyes and gestured for someone to escort Du Ru'an out.

Lady Liú also took her leave, and Du Ru'an concealed himself in the carriage of the Liú family, changing his clothes at the Liú residence before departing inconspicuously.

……

Not long after Du Ru'an left, the Empress went to see the Emperor.

Rumors spread throughout the palace that the Emperor had lost his temper and smashed a teacup in the Hall of Diligent Governance.

Yet when the Empress emerged, there was no sign of dismay; in fact, she seemed to be in quite a good mood.

Such calmness was unusual in a mother who had just experienced the agony of losing a son.

When Consort Hui received the report from her palace maid, her hand trembled, inadvertently snipping off two extra shoots of her beloved bamboo.

She set down the scissors and asked the most trusted palace girl by her side, "What do you think the Empress and His Majesty discussed, to bring about such laughter at a time like this?"

The palace girl, her confidante, never shielded from the consort's affairs, speculated, "If this servant may hazard a guess, could it be related to the Sixth Prince? Her Majesty the Empress being cheerful at such a time, if not to spite you and the Sixth Prince, what else could be the cause?"

Consort Hui's eyes lowered, her voice a whisper, "I too have sensed it; your words ring true. The Empress has lost her son and now must naturally vent her frustrations on mine. Could the Emperor's act of smashing his teacup be due to his anger at the Sixth Prince's actions?"

Her fingers clenched tightly as she suddenly looked up, "This won't do. With the Crown Prince gone, the Sixth Prince is the sole candidate for heir apparent. Should the Emperor take issue with him over this, would it not all be for naught?"

Despite saying this, Consort Hui could not, for the moment, think of a strategy to avert the Emperor's potential disfavor towards the Sixth Prince.

They were no fools; they all knew too well the extent of the Sixth Prince's dubiousness in the Eastern Palace.

Though wounded, it would reduce the Emperor's suspicions, but who could truly know the Emperor's thoughts?

Seeing the consort's complexion change, the palace girl reassured her in a soft voice, "Your Highness, do not overthink it. The Prince is the most suitable candidate, and the Emperor would not bypass him in favor of another prince. Moreover, Prince Twelve was raised by your own hand; if the Emperor were to choose Prince Twelve, what difference would it make from choosing the Sixth?"

There would be no difference, of course. Naturally, one wouldn't cast aside a well-grown Sixth Prince for a child who might still succumb to an early death and thus jeopardize the position of heir.

This thought brought Consort Hui a measure of relief.

Besides the Twelfth Prince, there were three other princes in the palace.

They were the Sixteenth, Seventeenth, and Nineteenth Princes.

But even the eldest, the Sixteenth Prince, was but four years old, barely able to recognize all his letters, and the Nineteenth Prince, just over a year old, could not yet speak.

Their maternal families were no match for Consort Hui's either.

The Emperor would surely not make such a foolish choice.

Yet, within a couple of days, Consort Hui stumbled upon the Emperor amusing the Sixteenth Prince in the imperial garden.

He lifted the boy up, holding him in his arms and weighing him, his face alight with a smile, "Our Sixteenth Prince has grown so much, he will soon be ready to attend the Imperial Academy."

Consort Hui's face almost instantly transformed with dismay.

The Emperor was not one usually fond of children.

When has he ever been one to dote on children?

Moreover, the Sixteenth Prince is just over four years old; how capable can he be? To send him to the Imperial Academy so prematurely? The Sixth Prince only went at five.

Consort Hui's mind was ensnared by endless thoughts.

What troubled her more was the matter of the previous court.

Several people involved with the Sixth Prince had been implicated one after another; the Emperor had already punished three, with two more awaiting trial.

It was one thing for the Empress's people to lose their minds, but why didn’t the Emperor protect those of the Sixth Prince?

These were individuals meant to support the future heir apparent in his ascent!

What heir apparent wouldn’t benefit from having stronger forces at his command? Why would the Emperor choose to weaken him instead?

As a result, the Sixth Prince was overwhelmed with troubles, too busy to even see Consort Hui.

With no one to converse with, Consort Hui's mind wandered even more.

At night, she tossed and turned in her bed and, unable to sleep, finally got up.

The one keeping vigil that night was the other of her two main palace maids.

She lay beside Consort Hui's bed, ready to serve at a moment's notice.

Startled by her voice, the maid hurriedly lit two lamps to brighten the bedchamber and asked softly, "Your Highness, are you thirsty?" She brought over some warm water, "Shall I ask the kitchen to prepare some porridge for you?"

Consort Hui gestured dismissively, "No need, I just can't sleep."

The main palace maid inquired, "Does Your Highness have worries on her mind? Is it concerning the Sixth Prince?"

Consort Hui said, "The other day, His Majesty was playing with the Sixteenth Prince in the garden. Did you see it?"

The palace maid replied, "This servant did see it."

Consort Hui frowned, "Tell me, do you think His Majesty had an ulterior motive with his words?"

The palace maid considered carefully, cautiously responding, "Perhaps Your Highness is overthinking it? His Majesty has shown considerable reliance on the Sixth Prince, entrusting him with many significant responsibilities."

Consort Hui murmured, "Indeed, he has entrusted the Sixth Prince with many matters. But he has also purged many of the Sixth Prince's people."

The more she pondered, the more convinced she became.

His Majesty must have developed a grudge against the Sixth Prince, offering those tasks merely as a way to curry favor and lull him into complacency.

Since the Sixteenth Prince is still too young, and it’s not feasible for the Emperor to act against the Sixth Prince at this juncture.

Thus, he grants favors to the Sixth Prince, letting him believe that His Majesty wishes to establish him as the heir, to wait in contented anticipation.

Meanwhile, the Emperor can use this time to gradually eliminate all of the Sixth Prince's supporters, paving a broad avenue to the throne for the Sixteenth Prince once he comes of age.

Consort Hui clenched the bedding in her hands, gritting her teeth, "The throne belongs to the Sixth Prince; how could it fall into the hands of the Sixteenth? His Majesty's actions are bitterly disappointing."

Seeing this, the chief palace maid dared not speak further.

Consort Hui sat pondering for a long time, deciding to summon the Sixth Prince the next day to discuss the matter thoroughly.

She must alert him to be on his guard!

On the other side, the Sixth Prince was also shrouded in worries.

With the Crown Prince deceased, the Empress likely mad.

Those loyal to the Crown Prince were fiercely holding onto his men, and it seemed likely that this would lead to a series of further implicating revelations.

When Consort Hui sent for him to come to the palace, he was in the midst of receiving reports on the trial of several imprisoned individuals from his subordinates, his mood heavy.

Upon entering the palace, Consort Hui asked him directly, "How goes it?"

The Sixth Prince looked down and said coldly, "The Crown Prince's faction has treacherous hearts. Their master is dead, yet they blindly seek a new patron, racing towards their own demise."

Consort Hui understood then that those in prison were likely doomed.

She gritted her teeth, "Do you sense any change in your father the Emperor's attitude toward you lately?"

The Sixth Prince replied, "Mother Consort, if you have something to say, please speak plainly."

Consort Hui shared her observations and thoughts with the Sixth Prince, "You are well aware of what kind of man your father the Emperor is. During your youth, you scarcely received any fatherly warmth from him, perhaps even less than the Crown Prince did."

When the Emperor was young, newly ascended to the throne, his mind was full of state affairs, reigning in his ministers, having no time to spare for the women and children of the harem.

When he found the leisure, the children of the harem met their fates—some passed away young, others grew up.

The Sixth Prince had no memory of the Emperor embodying the role of a father.

Frowning, he said, "Mother Consort means to say, Father Emperor intends to elevate the Sixteenth to the throne? He's but four years old. Is Father not worried he might not survive?"

At his words, Consort Hui let out a soft, cold chuckle: "It's precisely because he's afraid, that he shelters him so affectionately."

The expression of the Sixth Prince turned frostier still.

He was resolute in his right to the position of Crown Prince.

Yet, the Emperor was not of an advanced age, in his prime years, and could remain on the throne for quite some time.

The Emperor also had been steeped longer in court affairs than the Sixth Prince, far longer, and naturally had many more tricks up his sleeve.

"The old ginger is hotter than the young," he never doubted this saying.

Waiting too long indeed introduced variables.

Unless, that time could be shortened.

Seeing that he understood her implication, Consort Hui continued, "In managing the aftermath of the epidemic, have you left anything undone?"

The Sixth Prince looked up at her, "Mother Consort?"

Consort Hui smiled, "With the Empress having lost her son, who knows what madness she could succumb to? Even if His Majesty is in good health, he is not immune to troubles she might cause."

The Sixth Prince agreed, "Mother Consort speaks the truth."

*

Movements within the palace nearly every day reached the ears of Xue Fuguang.

Du Ru'an, once unleashed into madness, did not disappoint him.

He even managed to dress as a eunuch and enter the Empress's palace.

Mu Jianshu entered from outside, speaking in a hushed tone, "The letter has been intercepted."

Was it a letter from the Sixth Prince sent to the border defense?

The Sixth Prince has now become the most likely candidate to ascend to the throne. Naturally, many are eager to present their allegiance in the hopes of becoming a close minister to the Emperor.

The Sixth Prince also seems quite willing to accept these declarations of loyalty.

Mu Jianshu opened the letter before handing it over to Xue Fuguang, who smiled after reading it.

The Sixth Prince had his people infiltrate the Northern Army at the border, sowing discord between the commander and his soldiers to weaken their morale.

How utterly foolish.

Mu Jianshu knew precisely where Xue Fuguang's Achilles' heel lay.

Seeing him smile, not believing it was one of true joy, he asked in a low voice, "Does the master plan to deal with them?"

"Those to be dealt with are the fickle turncoats within the city's defenses at the border."

Xue Fuguang, with his gaze lowered, said, "There’s no need to bother with them. My eldest brother and father are well aware of the situation."

Still smiling, he said, "Does the Sixth Prince think the position of Crown Prince is already securely his, and hence has begun to burn bridges?"

To think he has so quickly started to plot against the Xue family, he is even more impatient than the Crown Prince and the Emperor.

Truly the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Seeing that Xue Fuguang was not truly angry, merely a bit sarcastic, Mu Jianshu finally felt at ease.

Xue Fuguang was not wearing shoes or socks.

He was curled up in a blanket, leaning against the pillows.

Winter was approaching, and he had caught a cold, lying listlessly in his blankets.

This could be considered a recurring ailment.

He was frail, and winters were always tough for him; as a child, he nearly didn't survive several times.

Yet, this year's winter seemed much more bearable, with no signs of worsening. Otherwise, according to past years, he might now be so ill that he couldn't leave his bed, necessitating the royal physician to almost take up residence in the manor.

Shao Jing came in carrying ginger soup, steaming hot: "My lord, quickly now, it's sweetened well to warm you up."

Mu Jianshu reached out to take the bowl, spooning the ginger soup to Xue Fuguang's lips, careful not to let him expose his hands from under the blankets and let the chill in.

Xue Fuguang enjoyed the comfort, opening his mouth to sip the ginger soup bite by bite.

Shao Jing felt it proper to excuse himself and left quietly.

He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but it seemed Qu Wu had a rather extraordinary relationship with the young master, making him feel quite awkward standing there.

After drinking half a bowl of ginger soup, Xue Fuguang stopped opening his mouth for more.

Mu Jianshu did not insist, setting the bowl aside and slipping his hand under the blankets.

Xue Fuguang lifted his eyelids slightly, giving him a sidelong glance, "What are you doing?"

Mu Jianshu tucked the blankets around Xue Fuguang, his hand easily finding the soles of Xue Fuguang's feet.

For a man, Xue Fuguang's feet were exceptionally delicate, even dainty.

He rarely walked any distances, with carriages and sedan chairs at his disposal when outdoors, and a host of servants at home, he never had the need to move on his own. Thus, even the skin on the soles of his feet was smooth and tender, without a single callus.

They were ice cold to the touch.

In a soft voice, he said, "I’m warming the young master's feet."

Xue Fuguang let out a humored snort.

Mu Jianshu’s palms were large, almost able to envelop his entire foot, the heat spreading from the sole throughout his body. Perhaps because Xue Fuguang’s feet were so cold, Mu Jianshu’s palms felt scorching to him.

Xue Fuguang said, "What kind of warming is this? Open up your collar."

Mu Jianshu looked up at him, catching the mischievous sparkle in his eyes, and with a mix of resignation and compliance, began to loosen his collar.

Xue Fuguang wrested his hands free, poking his feet out from under the blankets, and stuffed them against Mu Jianshu's chest, instructing, "The area around the heart is the warmest, hold it well."

Thus, Mu Jianshu obediently cradled the pair of icy soles against his chest.

The skin over his heart momentarily cooled before it quickly turned even hotter.

Lying in his blankets, Xue Fuguang felt the steady beat of Mu Jianshu's heart against the soles of his feet.

His heart thudded, resonating against his chest, the vibrations traveling from the soles of his feet to his mind, as if the rhythm of his own heartbeat was syncing with Mu Jianshu’s.

Xue Fuguang beckoned him with a curl of his finger, “Come join me, the young master permits you to warm the bed.”

After a pause, he added with emphasis, “Make sure it's thoroughly warm.”

Mu Jianshu swallowed, pressing closer to Xue Fuguang, his voice low, “My lord, you have a high fever.” His feet were icy, yet his forehead was much hotter than usual, a flush of red spreading across his pale complexion.

It was tempting to plant a kiss.

Xue Fuguang raised an eyebrow, “What does warming the bed have to do with whether the young master has a fever or not?”

Mu Jianshu bowed his head in acknowledgment of his mistake, “I was distracted, my apologies.”

Xue Fuguang withdrew his feet from Mu Jianshu’s grasp, pulling at the loosened collar and collapsing onto the couch with a muffled chuckle, “Not entirely distracted.”

The restrained veins on Mu Jianshu's neck became visible as he held Xue Fuguang tightly, “Young master.”

Xue Fuguang found teasing Mu Jianshu quite amusing, replying with a smile, “Yes, Lord Mu?”

Mu Jianshu’s ears swiftly reddened, the blush rapidly spreading to his neck and face. In Xue Fuguang’s presence, it was hard to tell who was truly the one burning with fever.

It was the first time Xue Fuguang had addressed him in such a manner.

The teasing was laced with subtle, seductive undertones.

Mu Jianshu's self-control was gradually crumbling.

He reminded himself internally that his lord, the young master, was ill, and he must not act like a beast.

Then he heard Xue Fuguang whispering into his ear, “Lord Mu, with all your learned strategies, do you know how to extract information from an enemy prince?” His hot breath sprayed over Mu Jianshu’s ear and neck.

Mu Jianshu grasped Xue Fuguang’s hand, and together they were covered under the blankets, their bodies locked together.

The spy chief of the Ying Dynasty showed the prince of Jing Nation a good taste of their techniques.

……

Plague is a terrifying thing to hear of.

Not only because it can spread from one to ten, and ten to a hundred.

More so because it strikes with such speed that by the time it is detected, it is often too late to counteract.

Patients usually succumb before physicians can devise a cure, dying amidst the outbreak.

The duration is short, sometimes just over ten days, and at most not more than a month.

Therefore, in every era, by the time an epidemic is brought under control, countless lives are invariably lost, with bodies strewn across the fields.

Even the noble masters high within the palace walls hold great fear for it.

After all, they too are human, not yet immortal, and each has their day of demise.

Yet no one could have anticipated that after the end of an epidemic, even the emperor, exalted above ten thousand people, could be afflicted.

The emperor contracted the plague.

To the common folk, this seemed utterly absurd.

The emperor, secluded daily within the imperial city's walls—how could the plague reach him? And with the empire's best physicians at his side, could he really die from the epidemic?

In any case, within the limits of what they heard and knew, such a thing was unheard of, unexperienced.

But today, the emperor of Jing Nation gave them this very experience.

They suddenly realized that their revered emperor was no different from ordinary people.

He could fall ill; he too could die.

The emperor himself thought as much.

He lay on his couch, too weak to open his eyes.

Never had he imagined that he could be struck down by the plague.

Almost no one from the palace came to tend to his illness.

The concubines, too, feared contracting the disease.

Day after day, it was only the imperial physicians who came to check on him.

The Emperor strained to speak, his breath as thin as a thread, "The medicine... that cured the plague before... where is it?"

The imperial physician wiped sweat from his brow, "Your Majesty, the treatment for the plague requires a rare herb named 'Tonggan.' Previously deemed useless and scarce, it was rarely stocked due to its rarity. The Sixth Prince had fortuitously gathered a quantity from a herbalist previously. Now, even if we scour all the apothecaries in the imperial city, I fear it cannot be found."

Before the outbreak, perhaps we could have managed to find it with some effort, but now, if any apothecary did have it, it's likely already been collected to treat the common folk.

It might be found in Dingzhou, but that place is too far. Even with the fastest horse and relentless whipping, I fear the Emperor may not survive the wait.

The Emperor, overwhelmed with frustration, opened his mouth as if to curse in rage, but his eyes closed, and he fainted.

The imperial physician, his face covered with a cloth mask, carefully exited the Emperor's chamber and hurried back to the Imperial Medical Bureau, desperately seeking new methods to delay the Emperor's illness.

After two more days, the Sixth Prince rushed into the palace, dust-covered and weary, delivering the remaining Tonggan into the hands of the imperial physician.

It snatched back half of the Emperor's life.

As the Emperor opened his eyes, he could only faintly make out the Sixth Prince at his bedside, calling softly, "Father, please wake up. Your son has brought you the medicine. Hold on, the heavens will surely bless you with recovery," his voice choked with emotion.

The Emperor thought to himself, perhaps the Sixth Prince had more filial piety than he had imagined.

In comparison to the Crown Prince, the Sixth Prince was not lacking in any regard, showing more consideration for him, his father, and would not commit foolish acts to infuriate him.

Once he recovered, he would immediately appoint the Sixth Prince as his heir.

……

In the end, the Emperor did pull through.

But he had been greatly weakened, his vitality severely damaged.

In just two short months, after numerous setbacks, the Emperor seemed aged not like a man in his prime, but with the oldness of someone who had reached the year of ear's complacency.

The first thing he did upon waking was naturally to investigate the palace.

The plague had ended, yet he, the Emperor who had never left the palace, had somehow contracted it.

There had to be a source.

Without an inquiry, it might have been bearable, but the investigation almost made him spit blood.

The evidence laid before him pointed, one piece after another, towards the Empress, his own wife!

The Emperor's face darkened as he hurled a teacup to vent his anger, "Summon someone! Bring the Empress to me!"

When the Empress was summoned to the Diligence Hall, she guessed that Consort Hui must have pinned the blame on her.

A wisp of a cold smile played on her lips.

"What a cunning plan," she mused. "It not only garners favor for her own son, painting him as the filial prince in the Emperor's eyes but also compels the Emperor to consider his current health and hasten the appointment of an heir. Moreover, it eliminates me, the Empress, clearing obstacles for the Sixth Prince."

"Such a strategy to kill three birds with one stone."

Regrettably for them, the arrow they wield was gifted by her hand.

Though the arrow was poisoned, they remained blissfully unaware.

The Empress felt a surge of exhilaration; even as she entered the Diligence Hall and faced the Emperor's scolding, her expression did not falter.

She lowered her gaze and quietly looked at a piece of clothing stained with pus and blood on the floor, "Your Majesty claims this garment was found in my chambers, but has anyone verified whether it was truly brought into the palace by my people and not planted by someone else to frame me?"

She spoke softly, "I have already lost my son, and the only person I can rely on is you, Your Majesty. Why would I harm you? Is it to hasten the Sixth Prince's ascension to the throne, to have myself, his mother, humiliated?"

The Emperor let out a cold laugh, "Do you think you are more thorough than I am? If I have ordered you brought here, it is because I have had a meticulous investigation conducted. Empress, you refuse to confess and continue to defend yourself? My son has died, and I am heartbroken! Thus, I have ordered a thorough search for the assassin, all to avenge the Crown Prince!"

"But you! A mother! The mother of our nation, my wife! You harbor resentment, bitterness towards me! You even dare to lay hands on my other sons and slander others! Are you fit to be the Empress?! Fit to be the master of the harem?! Had it not been for the Sixth Prince, I would now be joining the Crown Prince in the underworld!"

He waved his hand, denying the Empress any further chance to speak, clutching his chest with rapid breaths, "Summon someone! Draft an edict! Proclaim my decree, strip the Empress of her title, and confine Liu Shi to the Cold Palace, to await her fate!"

The color drained from the Empress’s face, turning it deathly pale.

She stared at the Emperor, never anticipating that he would be so ruthlessly decisive.

Seeing her reaction and deeming it insufficiently agonizing, the Emperor continued to fuel her anger and hatred, "Instruct the Astronomical Bureau to choose an auspicious time to officially designate the Sixth Prince as the Crown Prince and to confer Consort Hui as the Noble Consort of Wisdom!"

The Empress's body slumped, her head bowed to the floor, a cold smile congealing on her lips.

She would wait, wait for the day the Emperor finally realized the truth, to witness how his expression would drastically change, how he would rue his actions!

The Empress’s deposition and confinement to the Cold Palace spread swiftly throughout the entire imperial palace and even beyond its walls.

Soon, the entire Imperial City was quietly abuzz with discussions about the matter.

The Crown Prince’s supporters vehemently remonstrated in the court, imploring the Emperor to rescind his decree.

The entire realm was shaken.

Yet, far from expressing any remorse, the Emperor ordered the bodies of those scholars who had remonstrated unto death to be dragged away, and their families to be demoted and exiled.

It was a clear statement that anyone who dared to object would meet the same fate.

Furthermore, he swiftly installed the Sixth Prince as the Crown Prince.

The speed of the decision bordered on reckless.

The number of officials protesting in the grand hall increased, with many urging the Emperor to reconsider thrice.

However, not only was the Emperor not swayed, but he also ordered the beheading of the most vociferous among the scholars.

The faction supporting the Sixth Prince was naturally elated, overjoyed beyond measure.

The Emperor’s own party was mostly silent, with some speaking up to agree with the Emperor’s words, praising his sagacity.

Du Ru'an cast his gaze down at the splatters of a scholar's blood that had stained his robe when the man had taken his own life.

On the dark fabric of his official robe, the stains were hardly noticeable.

But the robe was tainted nonetheless.

He bowed his head, clasping his hands together and raising them to his forehead, stepping out from the ranks of the officials, "Your humble servant begs leave to offer a word."

The Emperor’s eyes, bristling with deadly energy, shifted towards him.

The eyes of everyone else in the grand hall also turned to Du Ru'an, filled with various emotions.

The Sixth Prince turned his head, nearly boiling with rage at Du Ru'an's interjection at such a time.

Regrettably, with the Emperor watching, he could not reveal his true feelings and had to feign nonchalance, showing humility and apprehension towards the position of Crown Prince, claiming unworthiness.

What could Du Ru'an possibly want to say?

He was the Emperor's trusted confidante, and at this moment, the Emperor was desperately eager to establish the Sixth Prince as the Crown Prince; no one's advice would persuade him to revoke the order.

Besides, the Empress had already been deposed and cast into the Cold Palace, the Liu family had fallen from grace, and the Crown Prince’s party was decimated.

If he were astute, he would recognize that now was the time to align with the Emperor’s wishes and to also give face to the Sixth Prince.

This presented an excellent opportunity for allegiance.

The Sixth Prince’s peripheral vision was fixed on him unwaveringly.

Du Ru'an was a clever man; if he had any sense, he would know what should and should not be done at this moment.

If he could lead the Emperor's faction to rally around him and ascend to the position of the Crown Prince, then he might not only be able to forgive past schemes plotted by Du Ru'an but could also entrust him with significant responsibilities.

After all, finding a second person of his talents to serve the state was not an easy task.

The Emperor commanded, “Speak.”

Du Ru'an, with a steady voice, began, “Your humble servant believes that the Sixth Prince lacks the virtue required of a Crown Prince. The role of the heir apparent is intricately connected to the fate of the nation and its people, and I urge Your Majesty to deliberate carefully. Moreover, Your Majesty is in the prime of life, haste in this matter is unwarranted.”

“In addition, I have one more matter to address concerning the Empress. By a fortunate twist of fate, I have come upon evidence that can prove Her Majesty’s innocence, and I implore Your Majesty to permit me to present it.”

The Sixth Prince almost turned around to cover Du Ru'an’s mouth!

Author’s note: Smack-a-kiss to everyone!

Today's chapter is so long! Aren’t I amazing! (hands on hips)

Goodnight!