Chapter 433 Leading by Example

Chapter 433: Setting the Example

"Noisy guests in the mourning hall should not be entertained—kick them out at once. Don’t disturb the peace of the departed."

Bei Jingchu rubbed her temples impatiently.

Zhou Yu, who had been shouting moments ago, now clammed up instantly.

Though Bei Jingchu was technically his grandniece and a junior in the family, Zhou Yu would never dare treat her as such—just as he wouldn’t dare act like an uncle in front of the emperor, as if asking for death.

No one in the room dared voice even the slightest objection to her command. The commotion died instantly the moment she arrived.

Though there were rumors that the emperor was unhappy with the Crown Prince, Bei Jingchu had held her position for years, her power unmatched, with her faction spread throughout the court.

Almost no one crossed her in difficult times, and certainly none present here.

Even if they discussed court affairs in private, favoring the King of Qin or noble families, they only dared plot in secret.

In Bei Jingchu’s presence, no one breathed a word against her.

Even the emperor, if truly displeased with her, wouldn’t dare just strip her title lightly.

Zhou Yu was hustled out silently, and the mourning hall returned to solemnity.

Bei Jingchu noticed Zhou Huanjiu’s puffy, red eyes and assumed it was grief over her mother’s passing. She patted her shoulder but offered no meaningless platitudes.

If she were in Zhou Huanjiu’s shoes, and it were the emperor lying in the coffin, any “sorry for your loss” would ring fake.

Bei Hua, who had come to pay respects, copied her and gave a pat too.

Though Zhou Huanjiu tried to hold back, her voice cracked with unshed tears. "Thank you... thank you all, thank you, Your Highness."

"What happened earlier?"

......

Bei Jingchu turned to Yin Chu nearby.

Yin Chu gave a straight account without embellishment, yet the mere retelling was infuriating.

Bei Jingchu let out a cold laugh and reassured Zhou Huanjiu, "Don’t listen to that crap. Grieve however you need to, observe the rites as you wish."

At her word, the guests fell even more silent.

Some even backpedaled fast, praising, "Supervisor Zhou is truly filial, enough to move the heavens."

"The departed madam would surely be comforted in the afterlife."

As if suddenly enlightened, the crowd, sensing Bei Jingchu’s stance, rushed to commend Zhou Huanjiu’s devotion to her late mother, hoping to leave a favorable impression on the Crown Prince.

It was as if none of them had just been hiding behind etiquette moments ago.

Zhou Huanjiu clenched Bei Jingchu’s sleeve, overwhelmed by the irony.

The day passed without further incident. The next morning in court, several censors fired off accusations condemning Zhou Huanjiu for mourning her birth mother despite being Zhou Yu’s eldest daughter.

As a member of the Crown Prince’s faction, Tong Huai’en couldn’t stand by while their ally was attacked. He retorted, "For one who succeeds their father, there is no mourning for a birth mother."

"But Supervisor Zhou is not the legitimate eldest son—why shouldn’t she mourn her mother?"

The censor clearly came prepared, speaking with calm assurance: "The Crown Prince is not the firstborn son either, yet is he not the crown prince?"

That was truly a hard point to counter.

The censor seized the opportunity to press further: "Nowadays, women can also inherit their fathers' estates. As the eldest daughter inheriting her biological father's property, Supervisor Zhou naturally is her father's rightful successor."

"Could it be that these women want to have their cake and eat it too—be inheritors while shirking the responsibilities that come with it?"

"You..."

He was left tongue-tied by this argument, and others also found no way to refute it.

Even if privately they believed Zhou Huanjiu had done nothing wrong, sentiment was one thing, and ritual law was another.

Even though Zhou Yu's meager estate wasn't even pocket change to her, it was precisely because of this that she could not observe mourning for her mother.

The Emperor suddenly called out: "Crown Prince."

Bei Jingchu stood.

"What is your view?"

Bei Jingchu knew that the Emperor was acting unusually, and her best course was to play it obedient and say, "As Your Majesty decrees."

She wasn't sure if she had gotten on the Emperor's bad side by being too ostentatious. Throughout the annals of history, few heirs had wielded influence comparable to hers.

Previously, the Emperor had seen her as weak and thus supported her vigorously, only to secretly grow wary when he realized she had grown strong enough to oppose him.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't utter them.

She didn’t know how the Emperor would decide—if he truly deemed Zhou Huanjiu at fault, what punishment would follow?

If a person violated ritual law, yet the person was not at fault, then the fault lay with the law itself.

She steadied herself and solidified her resolve. The Emperor was already displeased with her now.

Even if she feigned obedience, she would only earn the criticism of being "spineless." It was better to speak the truth.

"This child believes that Supervisor Zhou observing mourning for her mother is a fundamental moral principle."

"Denying mourning rites to a divorced mother violates natural human bonds."

"A child's filial piety toward their mother is innate—it repays the debt of birth and nurture."

"If one severs kinship simply because a mother leaves the household, they don't deserve to be called human."

The Emperor nodded in agreement.

"Well said."

Yet Bei Jingchu remained tense, sensing there was more to come.

"Since the Crown Prince is so devoted to filial piety, effective immediately, your birth mother shall be brought to the Eastern Palace, the crown prince's residence, to be cared for."

"Though not an imperial consort, Qi Shi bore the Crown Prince and thus deserves filial devotion."

He looked at Bei Jingchu. "As a model for your subjects, you must set the example."

"...Your child obeys."

In the Cold Palace, the disgraced consorts' quarters, Qi Shi, frail and weak, cradled a cloth bundle like a baby, rocking it gently.