Chapter 19: Chapter Nineteen Why Does My Master Always Hug Him So Suddenly?…

Chapter 19: Why Does My Lord Always Embrace Me So Suddenly?...

The old emperor was inherently suspicious; otherwise, he wouldn't have, based solely on a word from the empress, leveled baseless accusations against the Duke of Dingguo, a man of illustrious military achievements. This led to the execution of all seventy-three members of the Xu family and caused Noble Consort Xu to suffer a miscarriage and severe hemorrhage, resulting in the loss of both mother and child.

Wei Zheng knew better than anyone the old emperor’s cold-blooded and ruthless nature. Daring to reveal that his brain ailment had healed at this moment, he was ninety percent certain he could put the old emperor at ease.

He feigned ignorance of the old emperor’s strange expression, continuing to regard his imperial father with the same complete trust and reverence as before.

"Father, during the days I was unconscious, I kept dreaming of my mother and little sister. Mother was just as she used to be, unchanged—cooking all the dishes I loved as a child, teaching me to read and write. But last night, she kept urging me to leave, saying I didn’t belong there and it was time to return."

He wove a dream narrative from his unconscious state, a blend of three parts truth and seven parts fabrication. While the story itself was largely untrue, the sorrow and longing he expressed when speaking of Noble Consort Xu were entirely genuine.

In his youth, the old emperor had indeed cherished Noble Consort Xu, his childhood sweetheart. Hearing news of her after so many years, he couldn’t help but be momentarily stunned.

He couldn't help but press, "How... how is your mother doing over there?"

He knew better than anyone that someone who had been dead for ten years could hardly be spoken of as "doing" well.

The old emperor felt a pang of discomfort, a faint hint of regret stirring within him. If not for that incident back then, the noble consort would still be by his side, and their daughter would have grown into an elegant young woman, three parts resembling him and seven parts as beautiful as the noble consort. He would likely have been reluctant to marry her off, wanting only to keep her by his side and pamper her.

But alas...

Lost in thought, he failed to notice that Wei Zheng had been observing his changing expressions all along, catching the fleeting glimpse of regret in his eyes.

Indeed, only the dead remain an indelible mark on one’s heart, and only what is lost forever is truly worth reminiscing and mourning.

Belated affection is as cheap as grass—Wei Zheng found it utterly ironic and laughable.

He did not answer the old emperor’s question, for both of them knew it was nothing more than self-deception.

With Noble Consort Xu serving as a buffer, the old emperor was no longer as suspicious of Wei Zheng as before, though their relationship was not as close as it once had been.

The old emperor asked a few routine questions about his well-being and summoned the Director of the Imperial Medical Bureau to check his pulse and examine him, specifically inquiring whether his brain ailment might recur in the future.

This question carried a hidden meaning. The Senior Imperial Physician, who had reached his position through cunning, was far from naive. Keeping his head lowered, he secretly glanced at the imperial father and son, gradually discerning the underlying implications.

His brow twitched slightly as he skillfully sidestepped the core issue, saying, "The brain is inherently the most complex and fragile part of the human body. My medical skills are limited, and I cannot immediately confirm whether the Virtuous Prince’s brain ailment has truly healed. We need more time to observe."

Such a statement was flawless and offended neither side.

The old emperor pondered briefly, unsure whether he believed the physician’s words, but he didn't press further.

The old emperor did not stay long, leaving after just half an hour as usual.

"Father, allow me to see you off."

Wei Zheng struggled to rise but was gently pressed back down by the old emperor.

"You’ve just recovered from a serious illness. Rest well and focus on recuperating to avoid leaving any lasting health issues."

The old emperor’s hand on his shoulder exerted some force, carrying an air of undeniable authority. Wei Zheng, who had never truly intended to see him out, took the opportunity to lean back against the headboard, coughing weakly a few times.

Over the years, the old emperor had developed some parental affection for him. Seeing Wei Zheng unwell, he softened slightly. Seizing this opportunity, Wei Zheng made a request.

He said, "Father, I wish to move my mother’s spirit tablet to the Virtuous Prince’s residence."

According to the customs of the Yu Dynasty, consorts of rank were buried in the side tombs of the imperial mausoleum after death. Although Noble Consort Xu’s family had committed the serious crime of colluding with the enemy and treason, the old emperor, out of sentiment, had disregarded criticism from court officials and buried her with the highest honors in the imperial mausoleum, with her spirit tablet enshrined in the imperial ancestral hall.

It was nearly impossible for Wei Zheng to move Noble Consort Xu’s coffin out of the imperial mausoleum, so he could only settle for asking for her spirit tablet.

The old emperor’s expression shifted slightly. After a moment of contemplation, he asked, "Why does Seventh want the noble consort’s spirit tablet?"

His tone carried a hint of testing him, though not overtly. Wei Zheng pretended not to notice. With a somber expression, he explained, "For over ten years, my mind has been clouded. I have never observed mourning for my mother nor made offerings to her for even a day. I feel deeply ashamed and uneasy, which is why I conceived this idea."

The old emperor pressed his lips together, his cloudy eyes half-closed, making it impossible to discern his thoughts.

Wei Zheng knelt on the bed, bowed deeply, and said with determination, "I earnestly beg Father to grant me this act of filial piety."

The old emperor reached out to help him up, sighing deeply. "Since this is an expression of your filial devotion, I cannot refuse your request. Very well, I grant it."

Wei Zheng’s eyes lit up with joy, and he couldn’t help but grin foolishly. "Thank you, Father, for granting my wish!"

His smile held not a trace of cunning. Seeing this, the old emperor felt that his earlier suspicion and wariness toward Seventh upon learning of his recovered mental faculties had been overly cautious.

This son of his had been mentally impaired for ten years, with no court officials aligning themselves with him, no maternal family support, and the title of Virtuous Prince was merely an empty honorific—a prince without real power, influence, or wealth. Under his surveillance and control, aside from relying on him as his sole support, what turmoil could he possibly stir?

Having reasoned through this, the old emperor felt relieved and treated Wei Zheng with considerably more warmth.

He patted Wei Zheng’s shoulder reassuringly. "I will soon send Zhao Fu to move Noble Consort Xu’s spirit tablet here. Until then, focus on recuperating."

Wei Zheng naturally nodded quickly, promising to take good care of himself and recover fully.

Pleased with his son’s obedience and docility, the old emperor left in a noticeably lighter mood, taking the Senior Imperial Physician with him.

After his departure, Wei Zheng immediately shed his dutiful son act, disdainfully removing the inner garment the old emperor had touched and tossing it to the floor.

It was at this moment that Wei San entered. Seeing the inner garment crumpled on the floor, he refrained from asking unnecessary questions. Instead, he bent down to pick it up, fetched a fresh inner garment from the wardrobe, and helped Wei Zheng change into it.

Wei Zheng spread his arms, looking down at the assassin, whose serious expression made it seem as though he were handling a matter of grave importance. The built-up frustration in Wei Zheng’s heart gradually dissipated.

Unaware that he had inadvertently soothed his master’s temper, the assassin, after tying the inner garment securely, looked up and asked, "Master, should I fetch an outer robe?"

He thought simply: since the master was no longer pretending to be sick, perhaps he didn’t need to wear only inner garments to maintain a sickly appearance.

Wei Zheng did not respond, so the assassin took it as assent. He had barely taken half a step back to retrieve an outer robe when Wei Zheng suddenly closed the distance, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him back.

"Master?"

Realizing he was encircled in Wei Zheng’s embrace, Wei San blinked in confusion.

He found it strange—why did my lord always embrace him so suddenly?