Chapter 72: He Really Is a Troublesome Man

Chapter 72: He Really Is a Troublesome Man

Pei Yun whipped her head around. "How did Your Highness know—?"

She reacted swiftly, immediately realizing something, her delicate brows furrowing. "You had me followed?"

If he hadn’t been spying, how could he have known? And given the way he asked, he likely knew far more than just this.

"Yes." Li Zhangye did not deny it. "After returning from the detached palace, the first time you left the palace for Prince Yong's residence, I sent people to protect you. But they discovered you went to Renji Hall..."

He left it at that, but Pei Yun understood. It must have been from that moment onward that she had exposed her secret, prompting the Crown Prince to begin investigating.

The Crown Prince was sharp-witted—just the matter of the epidemic alone might have led him to guess something.

"So, from the very beginning, Your Highness knew I wanted that book. You deliberately mentioned the Inner Library and intentionally let me steal it." At the time, she had thought everything went unusually smoothly. It turned out it had all been arranged by the Crown Prince. Only, she didn’t understand, "Why didn’t you ask me first why I was so determined to obtain such a forbidden text?"

After all, it was a forbidden text.

How could he just hand it over like that? Wasn’t he afraid she might misuse it?

Li Zhangye saw through her thoughts. "You were acting so secretively—there must have been a reason you couldn’t speak of. Even if I asked, you wouldn’t have told the truth. Instead of prying, it was better to simply help you and ease your worries. I trusted you would have your own purpose for it."

Now, he was almost grateful for his bluntness, as it had indirectly helped Great Zhao avert a disaster.

His gaze was dark and inscrutable, his expression toward Pei Yun complex and inscrutable. He asked again, "But before, I didn’t know. Today, I finally understand—where exactly was that book used? That couldn’t have been just another coincidence, could it? Everything I dreamed of—have you also dreamed of it?"

Pei Yun lowered her eyes, her long lashes casting a faint shadow. She knew the jig was up. After all, every lie required more lies to cover it up. The Crown Prince had already guessed most of it—what was the point in concealing the rest? After a pause, she lifted her chin and said firmly, "Yes. My dream ended exactly where yours did—abruptly."

Li Zhangye’s expression remained calm, as if he had long expected this. "Your first dream was two years ago, shortly after Chen'er was born, wasn’t it?"

"Yes."

"In your dream, the person I saved first—it wasn’t Tang Er, was it?"

Pei Yun hesitated, then answered, "It was Shen Ningchao."

Li Zhangye’s mouth twisted, his face showing a trace of bitterness.

So, everything had been leading here. He remembered clearly—it was on that very day he had come to the Linglong Palace and told her he was leaving the capital for Tan County. His wife had glared at him, disgust plain in her eyes, saying things she would never have said before.

After having such a dream, how could she have treated him kindly?

No wonder she’d bought into those rumors about his lingering attachment to his cousin. How could she not believe it? He had let her die to save someone else.

Pei Yun guessed what the Crown Prince was thinking. Not wanting any misunderstandings, she decided to be forthright. "Your Highness, don’t you wonder why, in that dream, I knew how to swim yet still died?"

Seeing him look up at her, she hesitated, then went on, "It wasn’t because you didn’t save me. It was because, in that dream, I had lost everything. So I didn’t struggle. I... took my own life..."

She watched his eyes widen in shock, trembling slightly. But her voice stayed steady as she spoke.

"In the dream, at the beginning of the year, it wasn’t me who fell ill—it was Chen'er. And our Chen’er wasn’t so lucky. He didn’t survive. And in the battle against the Chěng Tribe this time, my elder brother, unable to hold them off, went down fighting. My mother, heartbroken, soon fell ill and followed him. And... my younger sister..."

Pei Yun did not mention the miscarried child—the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

Since that child had never come into this world, there was no need for the Crown Prince to know of her existence.

She said it all matter-of-factly, like she was talking about a stranger. But hearing it, Li Zhangye’s chest tightened like a vise, the pain searing into his bones. He couldn’t imagine how she had endured all this alone these past days.

The worst part was that the events of that dream were unfolding in reality. And to prevent them, she had exhausted herself—how terrified she must’ve been all along.

Yet despite all this, she had not uttered a single word to him all this time.

"You knew what might happen in the future—why shoulder it all alone? Why didn’t you..."

Li Zhangye's voice faltered. He had always wanted her to rely on him more, yet now, he found himself unable to even say it.

Finally, he understood why she didn’t trust him. How could she possibly trust him again?

His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Even if you didn’t die because of me, having seen with your own eyes that I chose someone else... could you so easily forgive me?"

Forgive him?

Pei Yun froze for a moment. She had never truly considered whether to forgive the Crown Prince or not. Even when she saw him swim toward Shen Ningchao before her death, she had only thought—so the rumors were indeed true. If his heart had never held her, then there was no betrayal to forgive. It just made her, the official wife, feel like a fool.

After a pause, she replied softly, "Wasn’t that all a misunderstanding? Your Highness knows I can swim. And besides... it was only a dream..."

If it was only a dream, why fixate on it?

"Was it... really just a dream?"

Li Zhangye had always been skeptical—because the dream felt too real, as if it had truly happened.

Even though he had only dreamed that small fragment, the pain had nearly choked him, tormenting him for months.

But what about her? How much had she lost in that dream? Their child, the family she cherished most... and in the end, she died with that misunderstanding, watching her husband swim toward another.

That feeling—it must have been like dying a slow, agonizing death.

Enough to snuff out any desire to live.

Could she truly dismiss it as just a dream?

Pei Yun gave a soft laugh. What choice did she have?

Of course, she knew it wasn’t just a dream. It was her past life—one she had truly endured.

But that was the past. If she couldn’t let go of the pain, if she wallowed in those memories, she would never be able to live freely and fully in this life.

She exhaled softly, unwilling to linger on the subject any longer. Seeing that the Crown Prince’s blood had soaked most of her silk handkerchief, she frowned. "Your Highness, are you not in pain? You should let the imperial physician—"

"Does it hurt more than you did?"

Seeing the self-mocking smile on his face, Pei Yun fell silent.

She heard him murmur, his voice deep and resonant, "I’d rather have dreamed everything you did. At least then I wouldn’t have to know that all this time, you’ve been suffering while I stood by and did nothing."

The room fell completely silent. After a long while, Li Zhangye stood, as if exhausted. "I’ll take my leave for now."

Pei Yun murmured a quiet "Mm," following behind to watch him go.

Shu Yan and Shu Mo couldn’t help but notice the blood still flowing from the Crown Prince’s hand, his face already somewhat pale. They exchanged a glance before Shu Mo tentatively called out, "Your Highness?"

"Go to the Imperial Hospital and summon Imperial Physician Zheng to Chenghua Palace to tend to His Highness’ wound," Pei Yun instructed.

Shu Mo bowed hastily and rushed out.

Pei Yun returned to the inner chamber and sat back down on the small couch. A maid was already cleaning up the broken porcelain and blood from the table.

Her silk handkerchief, used to staunch the Crown Prince’s bleeding, still lay discarded atop it.

She lifted a corner of the embroidered silk handkerchief, gazing at the bright red bloodstains, her ruby lips pursed slightly in contemplation.

After realizing her rebirth, Pei Yun had thought of changing many things and making amends with many people—yet the Crown Prince was never among them.

At first, she had even intended to distance herself from him, continuing their lifeless, distant marriage, quietly living out this lifetime. Yet, against all expectations, he became the exception.

When she stopped fearing and revering him, when she began to complain and even manipulate him, he, too, began to change.

Or perhaps the Crown Prince had never changed—it was just that in their past life, those thirteen years had never allowed them to truly know each other.

But Pei Yun couldn’t understand. To him, it was just a dream.

If he treated it as merely a dream, it would pass. Why was he so fixated on it?

She hadn’t even mentioned forgiveness, yet he couldn’t forgive himself.

Pei Yun irritably tossed the bloodstained handkerchief aside, instructing the palace maid to discard it. Unable to help herself, she pursed her lips and let out a soft, exasperated sigh.

Such a difficult man.

Now that his right hand was injured, how was he supposed to hold a brush or eat?

For the next three or four days, the Crown Prince never visited her Linglang Palace. However, every evening during dinner, he would send Chang Lu to inform her that he was busy and she need not wait.

Pei Yun convinced herself she didn’t care—in their past life, the Crown Prince had been a hundred times busier pushing for new reforms. Once, even while he was in the capital, she went a whole month without seeing him.

Yet when she woke in the middle of the night and turned to find the other side of the bed empty, for the first time, she felt like something was missing.

By mid-September, Emperor Qingzhen distributed the crabs sent as tribute from Taihu Lake to various palaces. The Eastern Palace received five, and the Crown Prince ordered Chang Lu to deliver all of them to Pei Yun.

Chang Lu arrived early, while Pei Yun was still asleep. By the time she rose, he had already left. The crabs, still scuttling defiantly and blowing bubbles, were kept alive in a small wooden basin, left for her to handle as she pleased.

Chen’er was fascinated by them, repeatedly squatting by the basin and reaching out to touch them, only to be pulled back by Pei Yun, who playfully warned in his ear to be careful of the crab’s pincers.

Shu Yan, observing nearby, suddenly spoke up. “Your Highness,” she said, “when Chief Steward Chang came today, he specifically relayed His Highness’s words: you shouldn’t eat too much—they’re too cooling for your constitution. Oh, and today, this servant took the liberty of asking for you. You needn’t worry—His Highness’s hand is much better now.”

Pei Yun shot her a sharp sideways look.

“Who asked you to ask? Did I say I wanted to know?”

Shu Yan stifled a laugh. Her mistress might pretend not to care about the Crown Prince’s injury, never asking about it, but these past few days, she had often caught her gazing distractedly at the low table he used. If that wasn’t concern, what was?

If her mistress wouldn’t ask, she would do it for her.

“Of these five crabs,” Pei Yun instructed, “send two to Chenghua Palace—let His Highness decide what to do with them. Of the remaining three, use two for small servings of crab roe tofu, and steam the last one for the Eldest Imperial Grandson.”

Shu Yan glanced at a young maid behind her, who understood and carried the basin of crabs away.

Then, Shu Yan lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Your Highness, have you heard about the matter concerning Prince Cheng and Princess Consort Cheng?”

Pei Yun immediately knew what she meant but raised a brow, feigning ignorance. “You little gossip, where did you hear that this time? Don’t tell me it’s more nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense! The whole palace is buzzing—it might’ve even leaked outside. Yesterday, Noble Consort Gao even had one of her maids beaten. The rumor seems to have originated from that maid. Noble Consort Gao is so gentle—she’d never punish her maids unless she was absolutely livid.”

Shu Mo, passing by with a freshly refilled jade water jug, chuckled. “All this talk, and you still haven’t said what the matter is.”

“Ah.” Shu Yan covered her mouth, lowering her voice further. “Word is, Prince Cheng went to Yong’an Palace a few days ago and told Noble Consort Gao he wants to divorce Princess Consort Cheng.”

“Divorce?” Shu Mo gasped. “But Prince Cheng and the Princess Consort were always so close. How could this happen?”

"I don't know the details either," Shu Yan replied. "I only heard that recently, Princess Consort Cheng apparently quarreled with a concubine in the residence. In a rage, she pushed the concubine into the garden pond. The concubine took gravely ill because of it. Now word spreads that since the Princess Consort has long been unable to conceive and is so jealous, it has caused Prince Cheng to grow weary of her, hence the talk of divorce..."

Pei Yun listened in silence as it didn't ring true. If that were truly the case, how could they have made up so easily in their previous life and even gone on to have twins the following year? There must be more to the story.

She had no intention of getting involved in such trivial matters, but by the afternoon, the matter came knocking at her door.

At that time, Pei Yun had just put Chen'er to sleep and meant to catch some rest herself when a palace attendant announced that Noble Consort Gao had arrived.

Noticing Pei Yun was about to rest, Noble Consort Gao apologized, "I'm at my wit's end and couldn’t wait another moment."

Pei Yun helped Noble Consort Gao sit down and had Shu Mo serve tea. "Never mind my rest. What's troubling you so, Noble Consort, that you’ve come all this way to see me?"

"Ah, what else could it be but family matters? You must have heard, Crown Princess. I don’t know what sins I committed in my past life to have such a troublesome son. Of all things to say, he had to spout such nonsense, and now it’s been gossiped about by busybodies. Poor Siyuan has suffered terribly because of it."

Noble Consort Gao sighed deeply, her eyes reddening with anger.

Pei Yun felt a pang of envy. Princess Consort Cheng had such a supportive mother-in-law in Noble Consort Gao, which was why, even after the divorce turmoil in their previous life, no one dared to openly bully her.

"I initially thought it was just a trivial quarrel between a young couple—nothing serious that couldn’t be resolved with a good talk. But when I called them in one by one to question them, neither would tell me the truth. It’s truly infuriating." Noble Consort Gao took Pei Yun’s hand and looked at her hopefully. "After thinking it over for days, I realized Siyuan doesn’t know many people in the capital. You’re one of the few she’s slightly familiar with, and you’re close in age. I believe you could comfort her better than I can. I’d like to ask for your help in this matter."

Since Noble Consort Gao had come all the way to the Eastern Palace to make this request, Pei Yun couldn’t bring herself to refuse. After a brief pause, she nodded helplessly, agreeing to do her best.

The next day, shortly after Pei Yun finished breakfast, Princess Consort Cheng arrived—no doubt at Noble Consort Gao’s behest.

In the over two years since Cheng Siyuan had married Prince Cheng, the two sisters-in-law had only exchanged a few glances at various banquets and had barely spoken. They were near strangers.

Sitting across from each other now, an awkward silence fell.

Finally, Pei Yun broke the silence. "When we went to the summer palace to escape the heat, I wanted to thank you for helping me rescue that drowning girl."

At these words, Cheng Siyuan’s hand holding the teacup stilled, her fingers unconsciously scratching lightly at the rim. She bit her lip and murmured, "Actually... you’d already noticed, hadn’t you?"

Pei Yun played dumb. "Noticed what?"

Cheng Siyuan hesitated. "That... I’m not as delicate as I appear."

Pei Yun shrugged. "What of it? We all have our secrets."

Cheng Siyuan seemed moved by this. Her voice caught. "But he thinks I deceived him... I never meant to at first. But my parents said no one would like a girl like me, and this marriage was hard-won for the Cheng family—it couldn’t be ruined. They told me to learn to be the kind of gentle, delicate girl His Highness would like, just as the rumors described. So... I did."

"I’d heard Prince Cheng was a womanizer. I thought with my ordinary looks, he’d quickly grow tired of me. Then I could live freely as Princess Consort, doing as I pleased. But who knew His Highness would turn out to be such a good man..."

Pei Yun could somewhat understand Princess Consort Cheng’s predicament.

Before entering the palace, Pei Yun had also heard of Prince Cheng’s reputation as a wastrel. But upon meeting him, she found him merely immature—given to fun and mischief, but without the vices of womanizing or gambling. Otherwise, Noble Consort Gao would have long broken his legs. Yet capital rumors always exaggerated.

Princess Consort Cheng likely never expected her initial act would force her to maintain the charade.

"I’m curious—since you’ve kept it hidden so long, how did Prince Cheng discover your secret? Did you really push that concubine into the pond?" Pei Yun couldn’t help asking.

"I did, but I didn’t push her..." Cheng Siyuan averted her eyes guiltily. "But she kept provoking me, saying that night she climbed into His Highness’s bed and he almost gave in—that he didn’t really love me as much as I thought. In a rage, I..."

She trailed off, then shut her eyes and blurted, "I hoisted her up and tossed her into the pond..."