Chapter 78 Childhood Sweethearts

Chapter 78 Childhood Companions

A Wu gazed at Ye Han, her heart churned with turmoil, and memories rushed back.

She recalled the methods the Jingxi Emperor had used against Nie San—tortured, then castrated and forced into eunuch service, assigned to grueling tasks with no hope of ever rising again.

And those Taoist nuns from the former Yanxiang Temple—none met a kind fate.

She wasn’t sure how the Jingxi Emperor would treat Ye Han.

But she desperately wanted to speak with him, so she lingered beneath the prayer banners as if engrossed in the recitation, though her eyes kept drifting toward Ye Han.

Compared to the other Taoist priests, Ye Han’s skin was darkened by years of wind and sun, his pupils stained with ink.

He had grown much taller, his shoulders broad—clearly, he had endured much.

Occasionally, he would glance at A Wu as if by accident, his firm lips mouthing a warning.

He was signaling her not to draw attention.

After lingering for a while, the Jingxi Emperor approached with several court officials in tow. Wary of suspicion, she slipped away.

Yet, having seen Ye Han, she clutched hope and deliberately sought opportunities to seize. Fortunately, in this grand ceremony with nearly a thousand Taoist priests, there were many chances, and she found her moment.

At the time, the Jingxi Emperor happened to be accompanying the Empress Dowager as they conversed. Seizing the moment, A Wu pretended to discuss scripture—deliberately yet casually summoning Ye Han.

The winter wind hissed past, swelling his wide Taoist robes before they settled slowly back down.

As an imperial consort, A Wu sat high within the draped pavilion, surrounded by silk curtains, lotus lanterns, and female palace officials. No one noticed their exchange amid the curling incense smoke.

In the distance, the chanting and the music from the Imperial Music Office masked their conversation.

A Wu first pretended to discuss scripture before quickly whispering, "Elder Brother, have you heard any news of Father and our brother?"

Ye Han’s sharp eyes darted around before he lowered his voice. "Merchants passing through said they encountered them in Malacca last year, but there’s no recent news."

A Wu’s heart leaped—overjoyed yet shocked.

Overjoyed that her father and brother were alive! Shocked that they had faced danger.

Alive! As long as they lived, there was hope!

She almost gasped in excitement, but Ye Han’s calm, restrained gaze made her rein in her emotions.

Digging nails into her palms, she stared at him urgently.

Ye Han scanned their surroundings before speaking in a hushed rush. "That day we boarded the ship, we were attacked by pirates—cannons, the sea ran red with blood. The villagers died. I escaped by a hair’s breadth. Later, I received word from your father and brother. While searching for you, I also tracked the pirates. By chance, I entered the Taoist order."

His face remained expressionless, but deep within his ink-black eyes flickered suppressed pain.

Gritting his teeth, he rasped, "I caught wind that you had entered the palace. I fought for this chance to confirm it was truly you."

He spoke in one breath, as if he had rehearsed the words, desperate to say them before the chance slipped away.

Once finished, his shoulders loosened slightly.

Then, silently, he gazed at A Wu—only then did tears fall.

The young man’s resolute, gaunt face remained stoic. He had fought free from a bloodied tide, cold and restrained.

But now, facing the one he loved, remembering the past, tears slid down his tightly clenched jaw.

His voice was hoarse and bitter, almost a whisper: "A Wu, the pirates are from the imperial court. I must take revenge—for them—otherwise, I won’t be at peace."

A Wu’s head spun upon hearing so much at once.

The pirates were from the imperial court? How is that possible?

She blurted out, "Is it the Lu family? The Lu family?"

Ye Han spat through clenched teeth: "Yes, it's the Lu family of Zhen'an Marquisate—"

Just then, a palace maid approached. Afraid of drawing attention, A Wu made small talk about the scriptures before dismissing Ye Han.

Ye Han shot her a lingering look before lowering his head and resolutely walking away.

After this incident, A Wu’s thoughts raced. She hesitated—should she tell the Jingxi Emperor about this?

He had promised to help find her father and brother, but so far, there had been no news. If she told him, perhaps he could assist in the search.

But Ye Han said the ones who killed the villagers were from the imperial court. This couldn’t involve the Jingxi Emperor—it must be Lu Yunjian’s doing. She’d always thought Lu Yunjian was shady!

The Lu family must have been double-dealing—acting as law enforcers while secretly profiting from both ends!

Yet, she was deeply worried the Jingxi Emperor might harm Ye Han.

Wrestling with her doubts, A Wu rose and followed the palace maid to pay respects to the Empress Dowager, who was resting in the inner chamber of the Qin Tian Hall.

Outside, it was bitterly cold, but the underfloor heating kept the chamber toasty—so much so that A Wu barely stifled a sneeze upon entering.

She covered her nose with a handkerchief and suppressed it.

A maid beside her hushed her, indicating the emperor was present in the chamber.

A Wu signaled for her to withdraw, planning to go in alone.

Lately, the Empress Dowager had grown fond of her, and her relationship with the Jingxi Emperor was so close that she didn’t need to stand on ceremony in daily matters.

As she passed the corridor gate outside the bedchamber, the lanterns swayed. A Wu’s sight blurred, then cleared again, followed by the faint scent of ambergris.

Hiking up her skirts, she rushed ahead.

But just as she stepped onto the soft carpet, she caught the Jingxi Emperor and Empress Dowager in a heated debate—mentioning the crown prince and even her.

She strained to listen but caught only fragments: "...If I were to pass away, then she must join me in the grave..."

A Wu's heart lurched.

That was the Jingxi Emperor's voice!

Who—who was to join him in the grave?

She desperately perked up her ears. The Empress Dowager seemed to say something, then the Jingxi Emperor's cold, unyielding voice reached her: "...If she joins me in the grave, the crown prince will be devastated. In his grief, he will abandon all improper thoughts, avoiding scandal, and treat his younger siblings well..."

This... was he talking about her being buried alive with him?

A Wu felt a thunderous explosion in her head, as if something had shattered. Her vision went blank.

Her hands shook violently, her knees buckling, and she could barely stand.

At this moment, the mother and son seemed to be arguing again. Unwilling to hear more, she hastily lifted her skirt and slipped out.

Feigning composure, she walked to a nearby tent accompanied by her attendants and eunuchs, pleaded exhaustion, dismissed everyone, and lay down on the couch.

Now, the deliberately suppressed fear seeped from the marrow of her bones, nearly choking A Wu.

She thought, she had heard it clearly just now—this was exactly what the Jingxi Emperor had said to the Empress Dowager. His intent was plain: if one day he were gone, she too must die, to join him in death.

He feared leaving her behind would benefit the Crown Prince, and worried the Crown Prince might mistreat her children. So, he would simply kill the mother and spare the children, ensuring the Crown Prince would only grow more affectionate and protective of them.

What cold calculation!

He had always doted on her, and just two days ago, he had been tender and loving, his eyes overflowing with tenderness.

A man of his steady, stern nature, once moved by love, was naturally irresistible. How could she not adore him?

Yet, even as they lay entwined, this man had harbored such calculations!

She understood, of course—the Emperor was in the prime of his life, far from needing to plan for such a time. It was merely talk of the future.

But she still felt ice in her veins, terrified.

Even as their passion burned brightest, he had already coldly marked her for death.

Some thoughts, when kept in the heart, are one thing; spoken aloud, they become another. And when heard by the person concerned, they become something else entirely.

A Wu shuddered. Yet, upon reflection, she realized this was entirely in keeping with his true nature!

Once, he had taken his pleasure with her one moment, only to cast her out to Nanqiongzi the next.

A Wu recalled the thumb ring the Jingxi Emperor always wore. That ring had once pressed against her neck, threatening to strangle her, and had also known her most intimately, bringing her pleasure.

For nineteen years, he had ruled the realm, his schemes far beyond her imagination. He could effortlessly balance mercy and might, manipulating all like chess pieces.

He wanted the Crown Prince to submit, to protect his children, and to ensure she kept herself for him alone. Killing the mother and sparing the children—this was the best solution.

This was the man, the man who sat upon the dragon throne—cold-hearted, ruthless in his methods. Even if he lowered himself for you, smiled sunlit and tender, he could just as easily turn around and run you through.

A Wu couldn’t help but laugh, a mocking laugh.

She nearly gave in to madness. Those children were hers—she might as well strangle them all, leaving none alive.

With this thought, she gripped her golden hairpin and strode to the chambers of the young prince and princess, who happened to be sleeping in the side hall at the time.

She dismissed the wet nurses and stood by the couch, gazing down.

Two perfect babes, so fair and tender, soft and delicate—who could resist them?

Staring at them, she thought wildly: she should kill them, then follow them to the grave.

Let him suffer, let him hate, let his joy crumble to dust.

His love for his children was unmistakable; he was drunk on paternal pride. If he lost them suddenly, he would surely go mad!

His harem bore no heirs. At his age, he could never have other children.

This old man would be grief-stricken enough to crave death.

The image of him cradling their lifeless bodies in agony filled A Wu with vicious pleasure.

Even if he was heartless, he would surely be overwhelmed with grief and regret for the rest of his life.

A Wu stared blankly, trembling as she clenched the golden hairpin, about to stab down. (Note: Postpartum abnormal behavior, not representing the author's views. The author condemns such actions. Do not imitate.)

The baby shifted slightly.

A Wu froze.

Then, the child smacked its lips sweetly in sleep, a tender smile crossing its face before drifting back into slumber.

Gazing at the child, A Wu suddenly shuddered, as if snapping out of a trance.

What was she doing?!

She stared at the pair of children in disbelief, her back drenched in cold sweat, appalled by the dark thoughts that had possessed her moments ago.

Even a tiger wouldn’t harm its own cubs—yet she had nearly harmed her own child!

Trembling, she staggered back, her legs weak, barely able to stand.

She didn’t realize that having given birth only months ago, the shock and turmoil had left her physically and mentally fragile, her mind fogged by exhaustion and turmoil, leading to delusions and extreme impulses.

With a trembling hand, she caressed the child’s cheek, consumed by guilt and self-hatred, unable to fathom how she could have entertained such thoughts.

Dazed, her thoughts in disarray, she returned to her chambers, wondering how she had sunk so low.

None of this mattered. What was the Jingxi Emperor but an old man? Why should she care?

If she wanted men, there were plenty—she could snap her fingers, and men would grovel for her.

As for the children, since they had been born, they had their own fate. She had given them life; now they should live well and enjoy the privileges meant for them.

She still had her father, her elder brother, and Ye Han—they’d always dote on her.

Hadn’t she heard word of her father and brother? Of course, she wouldn’t tell the Jingxi Emperor. She didn’t need his help. Once she found them, she would leave this place, escape overseas, where he could never reach her.

If he died one day, she wouldn’t be buried with him—instead, she’d celebrate with a dance on the deck!

A cruel, heartless old man like him wasn’t worth clinging to.

As these thoughts swirled in her mind, A Wu suddenly felt utterly exhausted and collapsed onto the bed.

She let out a bitter laugh, though deep down, she knew the harsh reality—as the Imperial Noble Consort, escaping would be no easy feat.

For now, the most pressing matter was hoping this man lived a long life.

So what if he wanted to drag her into death with him? If he lived to sixty, she’d be in her forties—a life well-lived. If he reached seventy or even eighty, she’d make it to her fifties or sixties.

That… might not be so bad.

Scowling, she calculated: If the Jingxi Emperor lived to eighty, she’d be sixty-three. By then, the crown prince would also be sixty-three—would the crown prince even become emperor at sixty-three?

At that age, what could an old man like him worry about? The Jingxi Emperor wouldn’t have to fear her reigniting an old flame with the prince.

In truth, if the Jingxi Emperor lived to sixty, she and the prince would be forty-three—too old to be a concern.

At that age, the prince would likely be too worn out.

Or perhaps she could persuade the Jingxi Emperor to have the prince gelded before his death. That’d do the trick.

As she pondered this, A Wu suddenly had a lightbulb moment and realized something.

The Crown Prince was the eldest son and had been the Jingxi Emperor's only son for over a decade, so he naturally claimed the position of heir apparent. However, his seniority also posed a problem—the age difference between him and the Jingxi Emperor seemed uncomfortably small.

The Jingxi Emperor had fathered this son at the age of sixteen or seventeen, and now that the son was seventeen, the father was not yet thirty-four, making the age difference seem substantial.

But by the time the Jingxi Emperor reached his fifties or sixties, the Crown Prince would already be in his forties, and the gap would seem much smaller.

If the Jingxi Emperor lived long, the Crown Prince would be stuck waiting until his forties, fifties, or even sixties?

A man like the Jingxi Emperor, who had always held absolute power, would never hand over power willingly to the Crown Prince too early. Wouldn’t he fear that once the young Crown Prince seized power, he might overthrow him outright?

So—

A Wu’s heart stirred. She began to understand something.

There was another path before her—to help her own son seize the position of Crown Prince.

She was no longer the helpless A Wu of the past. She had two children, children of imperial bloodline.

The Jingxi Emperor had only two sons and two daughters, and her children already represented half the imperial offspring.

For the her of the past, this would have been beyond imagination, so much so that now, just considering it made her heart race wildly.

It seemed too treasonous, too outrageous.

But... it wasn't completely impossible.

But if that were the case, she'd be going up against the Crown Prince.

The image of that fiery young man from the past flashed before her eyes—how he had once gazed at her with burning, intense eyes, so eager, like he wanted to consume her completely.

If one day, her own children were to fight him to the death, what would happen then?