Chapter 60: The Marquis of Jingbian Insists on Attending to the Emperor

Chapter 60: The Marquis of Jingbian Insists on Nursing Me

In the Zichen Palace, Xing Fang knelt on one knee, seeking forgiveness:

“That man is truly peculiar. There was no pulse at all in his wrist, and the imperial physician couldn’t make sense of it. When I questioned the physician later, he admitted he had never encountered such a case. After that, no matter how many times I interrogated the man, he refused to speak again, only uttering one final sentence: ‘Let the one who ordered my interrogation come see me in person.’ I have failed you.”

Xiao Chen reclined on the bed. Xing Fang had already revealed his identity, so the man should have known who commanded the Imperial Guard Commander, yet he demanded a personal audience. Xiao Chen’s gaze deepened slightly as he gently raised a hand:

“Rise. Were there any other unusual aspects about this man?”

Xing Fang hesitated, an expression rarely seen on his face before the emperor. Xiao Chen did not press him.

“Your Majesty, I… I feel there is a certain resemblance between that man’s countenance and Your Majesty’s.”

In truth, at first glance, the man bore little resemblance to the emperor. The emperor’s features were strong and handsome, naturally exuding the gravitas of a ruler, while the man, at first sight, possessed a mesmerizing, almost feminine beauty. The two were vastly different, yet only the man’s earlier mocking, half-smile, when he looked up, bore an uncanny similarity to the emperor’s.

Xiao Chen’s expression remained unreadable:

“How coincidental. I have a residence outside the palace. Find one near your own and arrange for him to stay there. Assign guards to watch him daily and report to me every day.”

“Yes.”

By the time Ling Yehan emerged, Xing Fang had already withdrawn. Xu Yuanli and a young attendant stood by the bed, holding medicine, while Xiao Chen had already lain down on his side. Ling Yehan quickly walked over and sat at the edge of the bed:

“Brother, are you unwell?”

Xiao Chen’s waist ached, and his body felt as if it had been disassembled, though this discomfort differed from the pain of past injury flare-ups. Meeting Ling Yehan’s bright, clear eyes, he felt a flicker of annoyance:

“Which of your eyes sees that I am unwell?”

Ling Yehan pointed to the medicine. Xu Yuanli quickly stepped forward:

“Marquis, this medicine is for you. After all, it is a toxin. You must take it for three days, during which you should maintain a light diet and avoid exertion.”

Ling Yehan looked a little embarrassed:

“Ah, it’s for me.”

He took the bowl and drank it in one gulp, with a rather bold flourish, as if it were wine. After rinsing his mouth, he waved off the physician and the palace attendants, who all discreetly withdrew. Ling Yehan then crawled to the inner side of the bed and, like a bear, embraced Xiao Chen, who was wrapped in blankets, from behind. His hand gently slipped under the covers and pressed against Xiao Chen’s waist. Xiao Chen stiffened:

“What are you doing now?”

As soon as he spoke, he felt someone pressing against his back:

“Brother, I heard your waist might ache later. Let me massage it for you. If you’re tired, just sleep.”

Xiao Chen thought the tone sounded a bit cheeky, but he was genuinely exhausted. He had been unwell in the afternoon, went out of the palace at night, and returned to all this commotion. He had no energy left to argue. However, the massage did ease the ache in his waist considerably. He closed his eyes and soon drifted off.

Ling Yehan watched his sleeping face, his eyes darkening. He recalled the Luo people he had seen at Qinghui Pavilion and the vile whispers he had overheard. Could there truly be other Luo people in this world? How many more? In the eyes of the world, a man becoming pregnant was shocking, unnatural. If Xiao Chen’s pregnancy were ever discovered, would the world’s prejudice and condemnation fall upon him? At this thought, Ling Yehan’s gaze turned cold. He would never allow such a thing to happen.

Where had Qinghui Pavilion found that Luo person? Early the next morning, he would go to the Dali Temple in person to get answers. With this thought, he curled up against Xiao Chen’s back and fell asleep.

The next morning, when Xiao Chen woke, he felt achy and tired, reluctant to get up. He reached out to the space beside him—it was empty. Turning over, he looked through the bed curtains and saw Ling Yehan already dressing, seemingly preparing to leave the palace. The ache in his waist made him irritable. Here he was, suffering, while that ungrateful wretch was at ease.

“Where are you planning to go so early in the morning?”

Ling Yehan turned abruptly to see the man on the bed already awake. He lifted the curtains and sat at the edge of the bed:

“Brother, you’re awake. The epidemic is almost over. I’m going out of the palace today to tie up loose ends. I’ll return early in the afternoon.”

“Have you forgotten what the physician said yesterday? Stay in the palace for the next two days.”

Ling Yehan recalled the physician’s words with a helpless sigh:

“I’m really fine. Besides, I’m just going out to give some instructions—it’s not strenuous work.”

Xiao Chen glanced at him. Normally, this man clung to him like a shadow, yet today he was so eager to leave? The look made Ling Yehan feel guilty. Xiao Chen withdrew his gaze and said nothing more, only lifting a hand to support his waist, frowning slightly with a pained expression.

Ling Yehan immediately placed his hand on Xiao Chen’s back:

“Is your waist hurting?”

Xiao Chen pressed his lips together, his voice hoarse:

“It’s nothing. I’ll endure it. Weren’t you planning to leave the palace? Go ahead.”

How could Ling Yehan leave when the other was unwell? He called for the physician to take Xiao Chen's pulse, then used medicated oil to massage his back. However, Xiao Chen still seemed out of sorts. Worried, Ling Yehan personally helped him dress and eat. By the time everything was settled, the sun was already high in the sky.

Just then, Zhang Chunlai entered to report:

“Your Majesty, Minister Zhao Mengxian is here and is waiting outside the hall.”

Ling Yehan had just helped Xiao Chen settle on the daybed. Hearing this, he looked up immediately:

“Zhao Mengxian is here?”

Given Xiao Chen’s current condition, he feared it was unwise for him to meet court officials. Just as he was thinking of an excuse to send Zhao Mengxian away, Xiao Chen spoke:

“Lower the inner hall curtains and invite Minister Zhao in.”

“Brother.”

Ignoring his protest, Xiao Chen took his hand and placed it on his waist. Ling Yehan had no choice but to obediently sit by his side and continue massaging.

Zhao Mengxian entered the bedchamber and paused at the sight of the closed curtains. He stood outside them and bowed:

“Your servant greets Your Majesty. Has Your Majesty not yet risen? I shall wait outside.”

“Rise. I have come down with a chill and should not be seen. Mengxian, have you come regarding last night’s assassin incident?”

Zhao Mengxian’s gaze fixed on the tightly drawn curtains, his concern evident. When the epidemic had broken out outside the palace, the emperor had seemed unwell. Had he not recovered even after all this time?

“Yes, Your Majesty. Were you injured yesterday? Was the assassin caught? Many officials from the previous court have come to apologize and are waiting outside.”

“I am fine. However, the assassin escaped. The Imperial Guard pursued them to Qinghui Pavilion but lost track of them.”

Zhao Mengxian seemed to relax slightly:

“Your Majesty, I see many court officials outside seeking to apologize. It seems most of those detained at Qinghui Pavilion yesterday were high-ranking officials and nobles. The Chief Justice of Dali Temple may find it difficult to handle the case alone. I volunteer to lead the investigation.”

Ling Yehan, who was massaging Xiao Chen’s waist, immediately looked up. Zhao Mengxian was cunning; if he took charge of the case, the Luo people wouldn't escape scrutiny, and who knew what else would come to light. He quickly interjected:

“Brother, Minister Zhao, as the Secretariat Director, is already swamped with official business. Let me handle the Qinghui Pavilion case.”

Ling Yehan’s voice suddenly emerged from behind the curtains. Zhao Mengxian, who was lifting his teacup, froze with his cup halfway to his lips. He raised his eyes to the curtains, his expression complicated:

“The Marquis is here too?”

Xiao Chen shot a glare at the man beside him.

"The Marquis of Jingbian insists on attending to me while I'm ill."

Zhao Mengxian's fingers tightened slightly.

"The Marquis has been tirelessly managing the epidemic in the capital these days and has inevitably been in close contact with sick citizens. It would be unwise for him to attend to Your Majesty’s illness at this time."

Ling Yehan stared intently at the curtain as if he could pin the person outside to the wall through it. Xiao Chen glanced sideways at the man beside him, who looked ready to breathe fire, with a faint, amused smile.

"Indeed, but he is quite persistent. I am too weakened by illness to drive him away. Mengxian, why don’t you help me kick him out later?"

Though the words sounded dismissive, they carried a tone of fond exasperation—a leniency the Emperor showed only to the Marquis of Jingbian in the entire court.

Zhao Mengxian knew full well that the Emperor did not mind at all.

"I am no match for the Marquis, I’m afraid Your Majesty will have to put up with him a little longer."

The discussion about the Dali judicial investigation was thus sidetracked. Realizing that the Emperor had no intention of entrusting the case to him, Zhao Mengxian did not press further and instead brought up another matter.

"Your Majesty, September is approaching soon, and the ceremonies for worshipping heaven and ancestors must be arranged in advance. I have already instructed the Ministry of Rites to prepare a schedule. With the rituals imminent, I urge Your Majesty to take good care of your health."

Every year, after the onset of autumn in September, it was customary for successive dynasties to hold worship ceremonies for heaven and ancestors. This tradition had been passed down for generations and had continued uninterrupted under Xiao Chen’s reign. In the first year of his rule, he even ordered the renovation of the altar. Ling Yehan had nearly forgotten about it until Zhao Mengxian suddenly mentioned the ceremony. He recalled that the altar was located at the foot of Qingyun Mountain, thirty li from the capital. Though the distance was not great, the road was unpaved, and the altar had forty-nine steps. How could Xiao Chen handle it in his current condition?

"Hmm, I am aware of this matter. Instruct the Ministry of Rites to proceed according to the agenda."

Zhao Mengxian then left. Only after watching him exit the Zichen Hall did Ling Yehan frown and speak.

"Brother, will your health hold up for the ceremony?"

His worries extended beyond Xiao Chen’s physical condition. On the day of the ceremony, all civil and military officials would be present. By September, Xiao Chen would be nearly seven months pregnant—how could such a condition be concealed? The thought of the ugly rumors made him both angry and fearful.

Xiao Chen gently stroked his belly.

"I will be fine. It’s just that our Little Lin will have to endure some discomfort then."

Ling Yehan suddenly remembered the past life. Though he had been away from the capital for five years, he had never heard of Xiao Chen canceling the worship ceremonies. After all, such an act would be a grave disrespect to the ancestors. If Xiao Chen had indeed missed the ceremony for some reason, the news would surely have reached the border.

"Brother, how did you manage it in your past life?"

Xiao Chen felt a kick in his palm, softening his heart but also stirring a hint of guilt.

"Little Lin was not very large. The ceremonial robes are loose, and with proper binding, the officials would not notice anything."

"Binding?"

Ling Yehan’s eyes widened in shock. He never imagined that in his past life, Xiao Chen had attended the ceremony with a bound stomach, despite his back injury.