Chapter 20: Chapter Twenty This Setup, Isn’t It a Hongmen Banquet?

Chapter Twenty: A Banquet or a Trap?

The Virtuous Prince had been ill for days, showing no signs of recovery. The outside world speculated that this foolish prince was surely beyond cure, merely awaiting his last breath. Yet, what they witnessed instead was the grand procession of Noble Consort Xu’s spirit tablet—the daughter of a disgraced official—into the Virtuous Prince’s residence, accompanied by a continuous stream of imperial gifts.

Treasure chests, carried by porters, stretched along an entire street, elevating public perception of the Virtuous Prince’s favor to unprecedented heights.

"Your Highness, our spies in the prince’s residence report that the Virtuous Prince has not only awakened but has also miraculously recovered from his mental affliction."

At Lingtai Temple, Cheng Lan could no longer sit still. Pacing anxiously back and forth, he racked his brains but failed to devise a countermeasure.

The Crown Prince, who had been idly toying with a caged bird whose wings were clipped and spirit broken, paused. "Recovered? More likely, there was never any mental affliction to begin with. We’ve all been deceived by him."

Ten years—what profound cunning must one possess to maintain such a deception for a full decade?

If this speculation proved true, then Wei Zheng, no longer feigning madness, would undoubtedly be a far more troublesome adversary than that blockhead Wei Heng.

"Your Highness," Cheng Lan halted, a flash of venom in his eyes, "why not take advantage of the Virtuous Prince’s incomplete recovery and poison him? We could dispose of him without a trace, making it appear natural."

The Crown Prince remained noncommittal. His fingertips gently teased the caged bird, but the creature refused to even chirp obsequiously, pressing itself against the far side of the cage to avoid him.

Finding this uninteresting, he covered the birdcage with a black cloth. The sudden darkness sent the bird into a panicked squawking, but he acted as though he heard nothing, waving for an attendant to take the cage away.

"Your Highness?"

Cheng Lan was still awaiting his response. The Crown Prince clasped his hands together and said in an even tone, "If you were to poison the Virtuous Prince now, do you think I could escape unscathed?"

"This subordinate could frame the Fifth Prince for it. No one would ever detect a thing."

Cheng Lan brimmed with confidence, but Wei Heng snorted coldly, "Fool! Haven’t you seen how much Father values Seventh now? He’s even had Noble Consort Xu’s spirit tablet delivered to him. If anything were to happen to Seventh at this critical juncture, whether I’m involved or not, I’d be skinned alive."

"Not only must Seventh remain unharmed, he must make a full and vigorous recovery."

Chastised, Cheng Lan lowered his head, not daring to offer any more reckless suggestions. Yet, he knew well in his heart that if they didn’t eliminate the Virtuous Prince now, he would inevitably become the greatest obstacle to the Crown Prince’s ascension to the throne.

"Are we truly to do nothing at all?"

Since the Virtuous Prince’s fall into the water, the Crown Prince’s faction had lain low, forced to watch events unfold without intervention. Though Cheng Lan understood this was part of the Crown Prince’s long-term strategy, he couldn’t help feeling resentful.

The Fifth Prince was rash, hot-tempered, and brave but foolish—hardly a threat. The Old Emperor’s health had deteriorated significantly, his life sustained daily by herbal tonics. Just when it seemed the Crown Prince would wait out the Old Emperor’s death and smoothly inherit the throne, the Virtuous Prince had emerged halfway, throwing the nearly settled situation into disarray. How could this be acceptable?

He slammed his fist against the wall, blood streaming from the impact.

"Cheng Lan, you’re thinking too narrowly. We cannot move against the Virtuous Prince, but if he brings about his own destruction, who could save him then?"

The Crown Prince’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he pulled a secret missive from the stack of sutras on his desk, pressing a corner with his fingertip and sliding it forward.

"The drought in Quanzhou has persisted for over half a year. The prefect has been suppressing the news, reporting only positive developments while concealing the distress. Within ten days, those fleeing refugees will reach Yucheng, and then the news of the drought will be impossible to suppress."

When that happened, the Emperor would inevitably fly into a rage, ordering a thorough investigation while also dispatching an imperial commissioner to pacify the people and address the drought. If the Virtuous Prince wished to expand his influence, he would not pass up this opportunity to gain merit and showcase his abilities.

Yet Quanzhou’s situation was complex. What capabilities did a prince who had never left the ivory tower of the capital possess to handle it properly? Even if he could manage it, dying unexpectedly at the hands of rebellious peasants would seem perfectly reasonable.

Cheng Lan understood immediately, sharing a knowing smile with him: "Your Highness’s move is brilliant."

The Crown Prince retrieved the secret missive and gave a slight nod: "See to it."

Wei Zheng’s illness couldn’t be fully recovered in a short time. He remained bedridden for a few more days before gradually beginning to venture out of his bedroom.

Having been cooped up in the side hall for nearly half a month, Wei Zheng felt as if his bones had grown rusty from lying around.

The prince’s residence was located in the outskirts of the capital, backing onto a vast lake surrounded by several mountains—a scenic spot perfect for leisure.

In the early morning, the lake surface was shrouded in a layer of mist, stirred by the wind and stretching toward the distant peaks, the swirling clouds and smoke creating a dreamlike, ethereal scene.

The sun had not yet risen, but beams of golden light already pierced through the clouds, scattering over the thick fog and tingeing it with layers of golden scales.

"Master, the morning air is chilly. You should wear a cloak."

Wei Zheng had dragged Wei San here before dawn. Wei San followed behind him, holding a black cloak, his complete attention on Wei Zheng, unaware that the dew had soaked his trousers as his boots trod on the grass.

Wei Zheng stopped and turned around. Meeting those peach-blossom eyes filled with concern, he found himself unable to voice any refusal.

Although his illness was feigned, he had still consumed many days of medicinal soups with considerable side effects. It was only natural that Wei San would want him to take better care of his health, and he didn’t wish to disappoint him.

He could only helplessly extend his hand: "Give it here."

Those beautiful peach-blossom eyes instantly came to life. As if fearing he might change his mind, Wei San directly stepped forward to drape the cloak over him.

Meticulously smoothing out the wrinkles of the cloak, Wei San seemed completely unaware that his actions had overstepped the boundaries of their master-servant relationship.

Wei Zheng secretly curved his lips into a smile but didn’t point it out.

Though unconscious, wasn’t this indeed a positive change?

Wei San was exceedingly proper. Once he had adjusted the cloak, he immediately retreated two steps, as though staying near Wei Zheng for even a few more breaths would suffocate him. If Wei Zheng weren’t familiar with his character, he might have thought himself so frightening as to make people avoid him like the plague.

Wei Zheng felt disgruntled, but before he could find a reason to vent his irritation, he noticed the Court Lady—whom the Old Emperor had sent back to the palace for punishment after his illness—approaching from afar.

Having his private moment with his companion disrupted, Wei Zheng’s smile vanished instantly.

The Court Lady stopped before the two, first bowing to Wei Zheng. When it came to Wei San, she hesitated but still performed a proper curtsey.

As a Court Lady with official rank, she shouldn’t need to bow to a commoner, but she did so out of respect for the Virtuous Prince.

Wei Zheng saw it clearly—beneath her respectful exterior lay contempt and arrogance toward Wei San.

"What are you doing here?"

His tone was cold and abrupt. No longer needing to feign foolishness as before, he naturally saw no reason to show the Court Lady any courtesy.

The Court Lady’s expression stiffened, but she forced a smile and stated her purpose.

"Your Highness, tomorrow the palace will host a banquet to welcome fortune and dispel misfortune. His Majesty has sent me to inform you to enter the palace at the hour of Wei tomorrow."

She paused mid-sentence, her gaze sweeping over Wei San before adding, "His Majesty also said that Young Master Sui Yun should accompany you into the palace."

Have him enter the palace too? Wei San, who had thought he had nothing to do with this, was stunned.

He couldn’t help but think: This banquet, a Hongmen feast, isn’t it?