Chapter 77: Various Matters

Chapter 77 Assorted Affairs

When Pei Yun woke from her dream, she raised her hand to touch her cheek, only to find it damp with tears.

Li Changye was a naturally light sleeper and usually slept lightly at night. Moreover, the small couch in the study of Chenghua Palace was extremely narrow, so he had been holding Pei Yun close as they slept. Thus, the moment she stirred, he awoke.

A small palace lantern sat on the flower stand nearby, its candlelight faint and flickering. Seeing her in such a state, Li Changye frowned and asked softly, "What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

Though Li Changye still struggled with lingering nightmares, they had lessened recently, no longer plaguing him every night.

Pei Yun shook her head.

"It was a good dream. I wept for joy."

In her past life, after losing that child, she had dreamed about her before—but never clearly enough to see her face. This was the first time the child had appeared in her dream with a distinct, tangible form.

A six-month-old fetus had already taken shape, but Pei Yun had never seen her. Yet the Crown Prince likely held her in his arms.

In the past, she hadn’t cared about the Crown Prince’s feelings. But now, with the child’s face vivid in her mind, the heartache felt more acute and visceral.

The Crown Prince wasn’t truly a heartless or unfeeling man. What must he have thought when he held that tiny, lifeless body—one that should have been born alive months later—and felt it turn cold in his grasp?

"If it was a good dream, then dreaming it more often is fine. Just don’t cry." Li Changye gently wiped away her tears.

"Mmm."

Pei Yun responded, though she knew it wasn’t something she could control.

Just like that child—she didn’t know if, in this life, she would be willing to return to this world and let her be her mother. After all, many things had changed. Perhaps the arrival of this child would also bring unexpected changes.

So be it.

Pei Yun sighed. She would leave it to fate.

As the end of late spring approached, the weather grew warmer. After several days of overcast rain, the skies cleared, and the sunlight was bright and radiant. On this very day, Jiang Lanqing’s water suddenly broke, and after seven or eight hours, she safely gave birth to a son. Both mother and child were well.

The Duke’s household sent someone to the palace to deliver the joyous news. Overjoyed, Pei Yun asked for the child’s name. The messenger replied, "The firstborn son’s name was chosen personally by the Duke. The Duke said that this generation follows the 'Zhong' character, so he named the young master Zhongxi."

Zhongxi—Pei Zhongxi.

Hearing this, Pei Yun was stunned. She had thought that, with her elder brother naming the child this time, the name would likely be different from the one in her past life.

Yet, as if fated, her brother had given the child the very name she had chosen before.

Xi—the morning light, the beginning of a new day, symbolizing a bright future.

Pei Yun thought that her brother’s reason for choosing this name must have been the same as hers. He was the hope of the Pei family, and surely, in the future, the family would flourish just like the meaning of his name.

On the fifth day of the fifth month, the Dragon Boat Festival, Emperor Qingzhen was in good cheer. After offering prayers to the gods and ancestors, he led the Crown Prince, the princes, and several officials to the Golden Dragon Pond in the Western Garden for a dragon boat race.

On the viewing platform nearby sat many imperial concubines and ladies of noble households.

The dragon boat teams were divided into five groups. Emperor Qingzhen, who had only watched in previous years, personally participated this time, joining a team with several military officers, Prince Yu, and Prince Cheng.

Meanwhile, the Crown Prince, Prince Yong, and others were placed in another team.

Pei Yun hung a protective sachet around Chen’er’s waist and fed him some zongzi and rice cakes before letting him dash off to find his brothers. The children had all gathered by the Golden Dragon Pond, jostling for the best views to watch the race up close.

When Pei Yun wasn’t paying attention, at the sound of the starting signal, amidst thunderous drumbeats and cheers, the five dragon boats leapt forward like loosed arrows. The rowers moved their arms in perfect unison to the rhythm of the drums, paddling with all their might. Water splashed on both sides, soaking their thin silk robes as the boats seemed to skim the waves.

At the forefront was naturally Emperor Qingzhen’s dragon boat. The civil and military officials saw right through it—the outcome was decided the moment Emperor Qingzhen joined; it was merely a formality, for who would dare surpass the reigning sovereign?

But a few dared anyway. By the halfway point, the dragon boats of the Crown Prince and Prince Yong had nearly caught up to Emperor Qingzhen’s.

Emperor Qingzhen wasn’t one to hold grudges. He could see the others were spineless cowards, making the race dull—until the Crown Prince's boat surged forward, rekindling his fighting spirit.

He turned slightly and shouted, "Row harder, all of you!"

Prince Yu and Prince Cheng were ready to cry. By some cruel twist of fate, they were stuck on the same boat as their father. With the emperor’s order hanging over them, they could only grit their teeth and row with all their might.

Prince Cheng, exhausted, missed his wife Yu'an’s presence. But recently, the imperial physician had diagnosed her with twins, and his grandmother and mother were so overprotective they wouldn’t even let her feet touch the ground.

Before leaving, Yu'an had joked about lending him her strength for victory. Thinking of his pregnant wife and unborn children, Prince Cheng found renewed vigor—only to stare in disbelief when he glanced sideways.

His third brother and sixteenth uncle were rowing so fast their arms moved like lightning, tireless, while the other man on their boat—likely Chief Magistrate Du of the Dali Temple—was also straining to catch up.

As their boat drew level with Emperor Qingzhen's, Prince Yong laughed, "Big Brother, age catches up to us all."

The onlookers gasped. Only Prince Yong had the guts to say something so brazen. Emperor Qingzhen scowled but merely snorted, "Young Sixteen, don’t speak too soon. Today, I’ll show you what ‘old but still sharp’ means."

Onshore, the kids started rivaling each other too as the two leading boats left the others far behind. Li Jin, holding Chen'er, cheered loudly for his father, while Li Qian, not to be outdone, rallied Rong Jie'er and the nearly one-and-a-half-year-old Fourth Imperial Grandson Li Yan. But Rong Jie'er's voice was soft, and Li Yan could barely speak, so they couldn’t match Li Jin and Li Qian’s volume. Frustrated, Li Qian pouted, "What’s the use of shouting? We... we have more people."

Li Jin ignored him. Soon, a spirited girl pushed her way into the crowd, also shouting encouragement. Li Jin recognized his aunt Pei Wei.

But wasn’t she supposed to be elsewhere with his second aunt, playing games for zongzi and tangyuan?

"Aunt, who are you cheering for?" Li Jin asked.

Pei Wei hesitated. "I... I’m cheering for His Highness the Crown Prince, of course."

Though she said so, her eyes kept flickering to the figure seated behind Prince Yong.

Hearing this, Li Jin smirked at Li Qian. "See? Now we have three too..."

Li Qian huffed and turned away. On the Golden Dragon Pond, drums thundered and banners fluttered as the race reached its climax, the Crown Prince's and Emperor Qingzhen's boats locked in a dead heat.

At the final sprint, everyone held their breath—but Emperor Qingzhen's boat crossed the finish line by a nose.

Soaked but grinning as he climbed out of the pond, Emperor Qingzhen beamed, looking a decade younger. He waved and rewarded all participants.

After receiving their rewards and thanking the emperor, the Crown Prince and Prince Yong walked together, chatting. Both were tall, handsome, and broad-shouldered, though the Crown Prince carried an air of refined gentleness, while Prince Yong, a military man, exuded stern authority.

Their soaked robes clung to their frames, accentuating their broad shoulders, narrow waists, and muscular builds, drawing covert glances from many noblewomen.

Wu Lan, scanning the crowd, grumbled, "What are they staring at? They never spared a glance for His Highness before."

Pei Yun bit back a laugh at her jealousy. Since Prince Yong's leg healed, he had gone from being shunned to highly sought-after. With his military achievements and control of the Ministry of War, he was now a pillar of the court. Rumors said many had sent dancers and concubines to his mansion, only for Princess Wulan to shoo them off with a broom—while Prince Yong watched amusedly, letting her vent. Eventually, no one dared send women anymore.

When the Crown Prince returned to his seat, Pei Yun had Shu Mo fetch a towel to wipe his sweat. Noticing Shu Yan was missing, she asked, and Shu Mo smiled meaningfully, saying she’d gone to deliver a sachet.

Pei Yun understood. Earlier, she’d arranged for Shu Yan to meet her past-life husband. Though unaware of her identity, the man seemed taken with her.

His name was Yang Zhuo, a low-ranking official in the Ministry of Rites. Though only seventh-rank, he was diligent. An only child with a deceased mother and an elderly father, he was filial and honest, free of vices. At twenty-two, a year younger than Shu Yan, he’d delayed marriage to focus on his career, leaving his household free of concubines. Shu Yan would likely find happiness with him.

Though Shu Yan hadn’t confessed, Pei Yun sensed her interest. She wasn’t a domineering mistress and never believed women shouldn’t marry. A solid marriage to a reliable man meant companionship in old age—nothing wrong with that.

She thought that in a few more days, she would summon Shu Yan and ask her directly. If she was willing, she would prepare a dowry for her and send her off in a grand wedding.

After wiping the sweat from his head, the Crown Prince handed the towel to Shu Mo, then turned to look in Emperor Qingzhen's direction. Pei Yun followed his gaze and saw a graceful young woman, about seventeen or eighteen, tenderly dabbing the emperor's sweat. This was the newly promoted Meng Zhao Yi.

Meng Zhao Yi had originally been a palace maid. Three months ago, she had accidentally bumped into the emperor, but instead of being punished, she was favored that very night. In just a short time, she rose from a low-ranking *cai ren* to *zhao yi*, a clear sign of the emperor’s unprecedented favor.

Emperor Qingzhen was already fifty-three this year. Though he had over twenty imperial concubines in his harem, since his ascension to the throne, he had always shared his affections equally—never before had he shown such partiality to one concubine. It was truly unusual. If it was merely Meng Zhao Yi's beauty that captivated him, there were many in the palace far more beautiful than her. At best, she could only be described as modestly pretty.

If things followed the previous life, Pei Yun knew even more absurd developments lay ahead. Soon after Meng Zhao Yi gave birth to a child, she would be promoted straight to Noble Consort, rivaling Noble Consort Gao in rank.

For now, Meng Zhao Yi appeared obedient, but later, emboldened by bearing a prince and her elevated status, she would grow arrogant and domineering.

Emperor Qingzhen also pampered the Sixth Prince she bore, granting him privileges unheard of for other princes. Eventually, rumors even spread in the court that the emperor might depose the Crown Prince and appoint a new heir. After all, Emperor Qingzhen was exceptionally robust and healthy—he could easily live another two decades. By then, the Sixth Prince would have grown up, his power secured, and he would no longer need to fear his elder brother, the Crown Prince.

But that was all for the future.

Pei Yun didn’t know what had happened later in her past life—when Emperor Qingzhen had passed away, whether there had been a struggle for the throne. But since the Crown Prince had ascended in that life, there should be no issues this time either.

Pei Yun casually picked up a honeyed date zongzi to eat, but after just a few bites, she frowned slightly and tapped her chest in discomfort.

"What’s wrong?" Li Zhangye noticed her unease and asked with concern.

Pei Yun smiled and shook her head. "Nothing serious—just went down the wrong way."

Strange. She had never had this problem with honeyed date zongzi before. She couldn’t explain why today was different. The Crown Prince poured her a cup of tea, and though she drank it, she still felt slightly unwell, so she looked around to distract herself.

This glance unexpectedly landed her on a familiar face—a woman seated demurely in a corner, chatting and laughing gracefully with the noblewomen beside her.

Pei Yun calculated in her heart. It seemed this was about the time she had entered the Liu family in her past life.

That woman’s surname was Zhao. She was the recently married second wife of Liu Sanlang, the third son of the Liu family. Liu Sanlang was the younger brother of Princess Consort Yu, Liu Meier, and the eldest legitimate son of the Liu family. His character and scholarship were outstanding, making him the future head of the Liu family in his father’s eyes.

Yet, a year later—in the twenty-seventh year of Qingzhen’s reign—this Third Young Madam Zhao would plot with her lover to murder her own husband.