Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen Let This Prince Hold You for a While

Chapter 13: Let This Prince Hold You for a While

Recently, the capital had been quiet. After the Zhang Xing case concluded, the common folk had little to discuss over tea and meals. Just as boredom began to set in, word spread that the simple-minded Virtuous Prince had drowned and nearly lost his life. He was said to be suffering from a persistent high fever, unconscious, and even the imperial physicians shook their heads, stating grimly that his chances of survival were slim.

Who was the Virtuous Prince? He was the emperor’s most beloved Seventh Son. Despite his simple-mindedness, the emperor never disdained him. According to the laws of the Yu Dynasty, royal offspring granted princely titles were typically dispatched to their fiefdoms, far from the emperor’s sight. Only the simple-minded Virtuous Prince was permitted to remain in the capital.

Those listening to the gossip grew curious and couldn't help but ask the initial bearer of the news, "Is this true? You're not just making things up, are you? Spreading rumors about a prince could land you in jail with your mouth sewn shut."

The accused rumor-monger, angered by the baseless accusation, slammed the table and rose, ready to argue his case. But just then, at the end of the street, two teams of light-armored imperial guards rushed past, clearing the road of pedestrians to make way for the imperial carriage following behind.

The imperial guards were the emperor’s personal troops, usually only seen when the emperor left the palace.

The man immediately recoiled like a turtle retreating into its shell, falling silent.

Not only him, but everyone present nervously minimized their presence.

After all, who could have imagined the emperor doted on the Virtuous Prince to such an extent that he would leave the palace to personally visit him the moment he heard of his drowning?

With the old emperor’s arrival, the imperial guards surrounded the Virtuous Prince’s manor. Everyone inside, except for Imperial Physician Liu and Young Master Sui Yun, knelt outside the room.

The old emperor did not spare them a glance, stepping anxiously over the threshold.

Inside, Imperial Physician Liu and Wei San knelt by the bedside. Upon seeing the old emperor, they kowtowed and greeted him, "Your Majesty, may you enjoy boundless peace."

The old emperor’s gaze lingered on Wei San for a moment, studying him meaningfully. Ultimately, he said nothing, merely waving his hand to signal them to rise.

The old emperor passed through the inner hall into the bedchamber. Though his expression was relatively composed, when he saw his son lying on the bed, breathing faintly and clearly in pain, he could no longer hold back, his eyes reddening with unshed tears.

Among all his sons, his favorite was this simple-minded and foolish Seventh Son, who bore a striking resemblance to Noble Consort Xu. No matter how much trouble this son caused, the emperor had never truly scolded or struck him. Seeing him in such agony now, the emperor’s heart ached with unbearable sorrow.

He sat by the bedside, gently stroking Wei Zheng’s hair. "My A Yun has suffered," he murmured, his voice hoarse and tinged with a choke.

No one in the room dared to interrupt. After a moment of grief and sorrow, the old emperor quickly reined in his outward emotions. He summoned the Senior Imperial Physician from his entourage and coldly scanned the room. "I demand that the Virtuous Prince recover. If anything untoward happens to him, all of you shall accompany my son to the grave!"

With those words, the old emperor placed a blade at the necks of everyone in the manor. If the Virtuous Prince awoke unharmed, all would rejoice. But if he did not…

With the weight of over a hundred lives, including his own, suddenly resting on his shoulders, the old Senior Imperial Physician’s hand trembled, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and he shakily bowed. "Your humble servant obeys your command."

The old Senior Imperial Physician was ordered to remain at the Virtuous Prince’s manor and was not permitted to leave until the prince had fully recovered.

After issuing his decree, the old emperor did not depart immediately. Instead, he waited until the old Senior Imperial Physician had taken the prince’s pulse, made a diagnosis, and prescribed medicine. Then, he directly summoned Butler Li.

He asked bluntly, "Was Seventh’s drowning truly an accident?"

Having witnessed countless schemes and deceptions in the palace, the old emperor refused to believe it was merely a simple accident.

Butler Li had already prepared his account. He recounted the events truthfully, without any embellishment, as if merely stating objective facts. Yet, the more dispassionate his tone, the more convinced the old emperor became that there was more to the story.

The old emperor thought of the Crown Prince, who had been absent since the incident, and recalled Butler Li’s words. Anger surged within him.

"Knowing full well that Seventh cannot swim, why did he wait for him by the lotus pond? What was he truly plotting?"

Butler Li dared not respond. He kept his eyes downcast, bowing respectfully, wanting to say something but fearing it would only further enrage the emperor.

The old emperor, though aged, was not foolish. Seeing Butler Li’s hesitant expression, he knew something was amiss. He said sternly, "Speak freely. I assure you, I will not hold it against you."

Granted permission, Butler Li tearfully voiced his master’s grievances.

"My master is in such a critical condition because he was rescued too late after drowning. If the Crown Prince had saved him immediately, he would not be in such a bad way. Unfortunately, the Crown Prince cannot swim either, so this humble servant had to seek help farther away, which delayed the rescue."

After speaking, he knelt and struck his own face. "This humble servant does not resent the Crown Prince; these are just foolish thoughts. Please, Your Majesty, do not take them seriously."

The old emperor neither agreed nor disagreed. After listening, he dismissed Butler Li.

His face grim with thought, he summoned Zhao Fu and asked, "Where is the Crown Prince?"

Zhao Fu had anticipated the question and immediately replied, "The Crown Prince, consumed by guilt over the Virtuous Prince’s drowning, left the manor and went to Lingtai Temple to recite sutras and pray for the prince’s recovery."

The old emperor snorted coldly. "Reciting sutras and praying? I doubt how much of that is sincere."

Zhao Fu naturally dared not respond, keeping his eyes downcast as if he understood nothing.

The old emperor could not stay away from the palace for long and soon prepared to return. Before leaving, he summoned Young Master Sui Yun alone to a pavilion in the courtyard.

He came straight to the point: "I know you were forced by Seventh. I can arrange for you to be sent away. Seventh will never bother you again. What do you think?"

A flicker of hope appeared in Young Master Sui Yun’s eyes, but it vanished almost instantly as if he remembered something. With a sorrowful and self-mocking smile, he said, "This commoner’s reputation is already ruined. Where could I go?"

A scholar who had been forcibly taken as a lowly male favorite—his future and reputation were both destroyed. Even if he left the manor, he would only live a life of scorn and ridicule.

The old emperor twisted his jade thumb ring, his gaze sharp as a knife.

Wei San felt tense, not daring to relax for a moment. He maintained the appearance of someone resigned to his fate, accepting his role as a caged bird.

Finding no flaws in his demeanor, the old emperor slowly withdrew his gaze. "In that case, I will say no more. Since you have chosen to stay, you must dutifully serve Seventh. If you entertain any improper thoughts…"

He left the sentence unfinished, but even a three-year-old could understand the implied threat.

After cautioning his son’s male favorite, the old emperor returned to the palace with his entourage, and the imperial guards who had surrounded the Virtuous Prince’s manor also withdrew.

With no outsiders present, Wei San returned to the bedchamber and closed the door. Turning around, he saw that his master, who should have been unconscious from the medicine, had woken up. Struggling in pain, Wei Zheng attempted to rise, but his legs were too weak, and he stumbled on the carpeted floor.

Seeing him sway unsteadily, Wei San instinctively darted forward and caught him.

The sick man’s body was weak and limp, difficult to support, but Wei San, trained in martial arts, steadied Wei Zheng firmly.

Just as he was about to help Wei Zheng back to the bed, Wei Zheng suddenly leaned into him, wrapping his arms around Wei San’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. Mumbling incoherently, he said, "This prince is unwell. Let me hold you for a while."

Perhaps due to his high fever, even his exhaled breath felt scorching. The heat sent a tingling numbness through Wei San’s waist, leaving him unable to refuse.

He stood rigidly, allowing Wei Zheng to hold him, unaware that the man resting on his shoulder was smirking in quiet amusement.