Chapter 35

Chapter 35

In the carriage on the way back to the mansion from the palace, Chen Yingchou remained silent throughout the journey, his brow furrowed, so Jiang Mo dared not speak much either.

As soon as they got off the carriage, Chen Yingchou immediately instructed the young eunuch beside him to summon Imperial Physician Xu to the main courtyard. He then ordered Qiao Yun to check on An Zeyou's condition, instructed He Ji to lead a squad of the Flying Cavalry to coordinate with the Yulin Army in investigating the assassination, and finally said to Xingchun, "Prepare a bowl of calming herbal tea for the princess. Report anything from Zhaomu Courtyard immediately."

With that, he turned and softly called, "Lan'er."

Jiang Mo stepped forward and took Chen Yingchou's hand. "Your Highness, I am here."

"I cannot accompany you tonight. I will go to the palace myself early tomorrow morning. You should sleep in a little longer and wait for my return at the mansion."

"Tomorrow is the first day of the new year. Don't I need to attend the ancestral temple sacrifice?" As Princess Yu, she was expected to attend.

"The family banquet was so chaotic. If the culprits have further schemes, the sacrifice tomorrow may also be dangerous." Chen Yingchou gripped Jiang Mo's hand tightly, his face full of concern.

Jiang Mo thought to herself that in truth, there would be no more assassins. An Zeyou had already achieved his goal.

But she could not tell Prince Yu this, so she simply curtsied and said, "I will do as you command, Your Highness."

Jiang Mo entered the mansion with Xingchun, while Chen Yingchou gave a few more instructions to the commanders of the Flying Cavalry Camp before following her in.

Once inside the main hall of the main courtyard, Chen Yingchou immediately dismissed all attendants, keeping only Imperial Physician Xu with him.

Imperial Physician Xu was somewhat uneasy. Usually, when attending to the prince, either He Ji or Qiao Yun was present; he had never been left alone with the prince before.

"Your Highness, do you have something to discuss with me in private?"

Chen Yingchou felt his way to a chair and sat down. "Xu Ping, have you had your New Year's Eve dinner?"

Xu Ping was startled. Since entering the Imperial Medical Institute, hardly anyone had called him by his given name. He had assumed the prince forgot it long ago.

Xu Ping was widowed early and was childless. Since coming to Prince Yu's mansion, he had regarded it as his home. On New Year's Eve, Qiao Yun had let those with families outside the mansion go home to their families. For those whose families were within the mansion or were alone, the kitchen had prepared a New Year's Eve dinner.

"I have."

Chen Yingchou was silent for a moment, then asked, "In your opinion, how much longer until I regain my sight?"

Xu Ping did not answer immediately. He had already stated this prognosis more than once; the prince must already know it in his heart. To ask again today, something must have happened that made the prince urgently wish to regain his sight.

"Your Highness, I can't say for sure. Your eyesight could return within a few days, a few months, a few years, or perhaps never again."

He could only tell the truth. The prince's injury involved the meridians around the eyes and those connected in the brain. Though he had practiced medicine for many years, the meridians are internal and he couldn't see them directly. With his level of skill, he truly could not determine the outcome.

"I recall you once mentioned a senior disciple of yours, many years ago. He was said to have restored the sight of someone blind for many years. Can you find him?"

Xu Ping was startled. "Since Your Highness remembers me mentioning that senior disciple, you must also recall that I said he is a mad doctor who travels the land in search of rare and difficult illnesses. His treatments are so reckless and daring that six or seven out of ten patients he treats either die or end up crippled. That man's recovery was a stroke of luck."

"I remember." Chen Yingchou's voice was low. He had once thought of inviting Xu Ping's senior but decided against it due to the man's unorthodox methods. At that time, he had thought that even blind, he was at least alive, and as long as there was life, there was hope.

But what had happened today had changed his mind.

He was a highly skilled martial artist, and he had been so close to the Emperor. Had he not been blind, he could have deflected the arrow. His friend would not have taken the arrow for him, now clinging to life. Perhaps he could have detected something amiss before the banquet, so that Lan'er would not have been frightened. He wouldn't have been reduced to being unable to even carry her down a step.

No wonder Second Prince had remarked on Lan'er's beauty, calling it a pity she married him.

Since the marriage, when they were together, she had to lead him when walking, feed him when eating, and blow out the candles when sleeping. He couldn't help her pick out dresses and jewelry, could not praise her appearance, and even in intimacy, he could only fumble in the dark.

Even if these things were not important, what about her safety? She had come through this time unharmed, but what about next time? Could it always be fine? As a husband, if he could not protect his wife, what right did he have to call himself her husband?

Was he going to be powerless every time danger struck, able only to protect himself and worry?

Instead, it was better to take a gamble and risk it all.

If fate didn't favor him, then so be it.

He would write a letter of divorce in advance, so that Lan'er would not have to remain chaste in widowhood. On the road to the Yellow Springs, he would wish her to meet a better man and have a better life.

"Xu Ping, tomorrow I will dispatch a squad of guards to accompany you in search of your senior disciple." Chen Yingchou seemed very tired. He pressed against the square table and slowly rose. "Remember, no third person must know of this."

Xu Ping understood the prince's temperament; further persuasion would be useless. He also understood why the prince did not want others to know—it was to spare his close attendants from worry and dissuasion.

In truth, Xu Ping himself also harbored some hope. Since things had come to this, he could not dwell only on the six or seven out of ten failures. There were still three or four successes. Who could not say the prince might be fortunate?

Moreover, after all these years of his senior roaming as a traveling physician, perhaps he had cured someone with a condition like the prince's. If so, then the odds were not three or four in ten, but eight or nine in ten.

"Yes, Your Highness. I will surely find my senior disciple."

On the morning of New Year's Day, Imperial Physician Xu and a team of guards set off westward.

Chen Yingchou, accompanied by Qiao Yun, entered the palace, heading eastward.

The court audience and the ancestral temple sacrifice both proceeded smoothly.

After the ceremonies, the Emperor, the Empress, and several princes arrived at the side hall of Kunning Palace, where An Zeyou was staying.

Seeing the Emperor, Empress, and princes approaching, Imperial Medical Institute Director Lin hurried out from An Zeyou's room to greet them.

"How is Zeyou?"

Director Lin bowed and reported, "The arrow missed the heart by only half an inch; otherwise, it would have been hopeless. Even so, the situation is extremely critical. It depends on whether he can survive tonight."

Prince Kang immediately said, "Second Royal Brother gave me a thousand-year-old ginseng at the feast yesterday. Let it be used for Master An." The young eunuch behind him promptly handed over the long box from last night.

Prince Rui added, "Yes, Master An saved the Emperor. I will find another thousand-year ginseng for Sixth Brother."

The Emperor said, "Director Lin, take it. Save the man first."

Director Lin accepted the ginseng. "I will do my utmost to heal him."

Tenth Prince said, "Father, I am worried about Master An. I wish to go in and see him."

"You won't be of any help in there." The Emperor sighed and looked at the assembled company. "You all know his condition now. There is no use staying here. You may all leave."

In truth, these people had not come out of genuine concern for An Zeyou. It was simply that An Zeyou had performed a meritorious deed in saving the Emperor, and since the Emperor attached great importance to him, they had to show the same importance.

Now that the necessary words had been spoken and the necessary gestures made, there was no need to linger.

As everyone withdrew, the Emperor called out to Chen Yingchou to stay. When the others had left, he said to him, "Old Nine, Zeyou entered the palace at the age of twelve. You have shared poetry, wine, music, flutes, and zithers—a deep friendship. The others' concern is but pretense; I fear only your worry is genuine. Come, let us go in and see him together."

Entering the room, the Emperor sat by An Zeyou's bed, looking at the man's pale face, and could not help sighing. "What a lovable, pitiable child."

After a moment, he rose and said to the eunuch beside him, "Until he wakes, this matter must not be leaked outside the palace."

If An Zeyou died, none could predict what An Shengwu might do. Perhaps he already harbored rebellious intentions, and this incident would provide him with an opportunity.

The Emperor walked over to Chen Yingchou and patted his shoulder. "If he hasn't woken by tomorrow morning, come to the Imperial Study with the Minister of War."

Chen Yingchou understood. His father was preparing for the worst.

Ten years ago, An Zeyou entered the palace as a hostage. The Emperor housed him in a side hall of the Kunning Palace and ordered the Empress to oversee his upbringing. His food, clothing, and daily expenses were no different from the princes'. Even his coming-of-age ceremony was conducted just like the princes' ceremonies, as if the Emperor regarded him as his own son. Yet he was not allowed to study literary or martial studies alongside the princes.

An Zeyou was a sensible fellow, claiming he had no interest in literary or martial studies and only enjoyed music and song.

Gradually, An Zeyou began to frequent brothels, taverns, and teahouses, indulging in wine and women. Not only did he entertain himself, but he also often presented the Emperor with odd trinkets. When he learned new tunes, he would personally play them at banquets to please the Emperor. Hearing of novel acrobatics, he would beg the Emperor to leave the palace and watch them together with him. Within a few years, he became a notorious playboy in the capital who no one dared to offend.

Even though the princes were unwilling to admit it, he was the Emperor's most beloved "son," second only to Chen Yingchou.

Over the ten years, his obedience and flattery brought the Emperor real joy.

Chen Yingchou understood his father. Through so many years together, the Emperor had already developed a soft spot for An Zeyou.

As long as An Shengwu remained loyal and harbored no rebellious intentions, An Zeyou could continue to live as a playboy in the capital.

"Father, you have been tired all day. Return to the Zichen Hall to rest. Your son will stay here tonight and send word as soon as there is news," Chen Yingchou said, worried about the Emperor's health. "Qufei has your protection, Father; he will surely be safe."

Director Lin chimed in, "Prince Yu speaks sense. Master An will surely pull through. Your Majesty need not worry."

The Emperor frowned. "Let us hope so."

After seeing the Emperor off, Chen Yingchou sent Qiao Yun to deliver a message to his residence, saying he would be staying the night to watch over An Zeyou and would not return home.

He paused, then added, "Tell the Princess that Master An is blessed by heaven; the arrow did not strike his heart. Let her rest assured."

He thought that An Zeyou was struck by an arrow in front of Lan'er, and Lan'er, being such a kind-hearted person, would surely be worried.

Qiao Yun left. Chen Yingchou sat at the square table, listening to the hurried footsteps of physicians and eunuchs coming and going, feeling extremely anxious, praying he would awaken soon.

After an unknown amount of time, Director Lin cried out joyfully, "Your Highness, Master An is awake."

A young eunuch helped Chen Yingchou to An Zeyou's bedside. He leaned over and sat down, fumbled to grasp An Zeyou's hand, and called out, "Qufei, Qufei."

"Father, Mother, I don't want to go... Mother, Mother..."

An Zeyou cried out repeatedly, "Father, Father... Mother, Mother..."

Not knowing how to comfort him, Chen Yingchou could only hold An Zeyou's hand tightly.

After many calls, An Zeyou quieted down.

Chen Yingchou immediately stood up. "Director Lin, quickly, check if he has fainted again!"

Director Lin felt An Zeyou's forehead and felt his pulse before saying, "Rest assured, Your Highness. The fever has already subsided. He has pulled through."

Chen Yingchou finally breathed a sigh of relief. He was about to send someone to the Zichen Hall to report when he heard a strange name cried out by An Zeyou: "Jiang Mo, Jiang Mo..."

Ginger powder? Ink? Silence?

Chen Yingchou wondered, what was he shouting?