Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Within the Weiyang Palace, all was silent, with only a few palace attendants moving back and forth, whispering among themselves. After the Sixth Prince regained consciousness, the imperial physician had visited only a few times. Later, as the Sixth Prince's condition stabilized, the physician stopped coming altogether.

"The physician has already left his instructions."

Gossip was shut out of the palace. Consort Ning sat before her mirror, merely nodding slightly upon hearing the maid's report, and thoroughly burned a secret letter from outside the palace.

It was a secret letter from the Ning family. In recent days, there had been new movements in the Court and Country, with good news from the border.

"It seems His Majesty has won a great victory," Consort Ning said.

Consort Ning, known for her virtue and gentleness, never vied for favor within the harem. Thus, during the preparations for the Empress Dowager's birthday banquet, several tasks were assigned to her, thus giving her the opportunity to learn the details of the Empress Dowager's birthday celebration. With the Ning family's updates, she learned first of the Emperor's triumphant return. This was great news for the Dayuan empire at that time. News had spread everywhere, and the Emperor intended to celebrate it nationwide—it was a major event.

A major event would naturally be grandly celebrated.

Bi Zhu, the palace maid, said, "The Sixth Prince has not left his chamber in recent days. According to the physician, he has not fully recovered, and it seems the fever was so high that his mind is somewhat unclear. There have been many complaints among the attendants serving him."

Consort Ning's hand, scalded by hot medicine a few days ago, still ached. Yet hearing Bi Zhu's words lifted her spirits. "If he's brain-damaged from the fever, isn't that better? Saves me the trouble of coaxing him. Did he take the medicine?"

Over the years, hindered by the strict surveillance within the palace and the Ning family's past transgressions, she had to humble herself and go along with things. She had never been attentive to this child, intending to raise him to be useless, barely managing to cultivate a cowardly personality... But after all, a cowardly personality is nowhere near as easy to control as a complete waste.

Especially that face—once he grows into it, it would be trouble... When necessary, that face need not be kept.

Bi Zhu thoughtfully attended to the lady's toilette, reporting in detail: "Your servant went to the pharmacy a few days ago, and they said the prince has been taking his medicine these days."

Hearing that Ying Fusheng had taken all the medicine, a hint of pleasure appeared in her expression.

The current Emperor had a fair number of children, and the harem was full of women scrambling to rise.

Consort Ning had maintained a persona of seclusion for over a decade, and Ying Fusheng was dull and inept, showing no signs of advancement. Consort Ning herself did not compete, so many other consorts sought to ally with her. Thanks to this, Consort Ning learned much that the Ning family could not control, secretly devising schemes for her own biological son.

Empress Xu sits high as the mistress of the harem, but what of it? For all her airs, in the end, her child is still held firmly in my palm.

Consort Ning listened to Bi Zhu's report, growing more and more pleased: "How is Kunming Palace lately?"

Bi Zhu replied, "The Empress has gone to the temple to pray for blessings these past few days, and the Crown Prince has accompanied her."

The Crown Prince was young, yet his reputation for filial piety had already spread far.

As Bi Zhu spoke of the Crown Prince's reputation, Consort Ning grew increasingly at ease. The Crown Prince, as the heir apparent, had the backing of the Empress and the Xu family. The Xu family produced many civil officials and held a distinguished position, having assisted the current Emperor in ascending the throne. Empress Xu was deeply favored by the Emperor. With such excellent conditions, without any scheming on her part, her son could enjoy the utmost favor.

"Another piece of news: there has been movement from the Qi family. General Qi's trusted aide has entered the residence," Bi Zhu said quietly.

Consort Ning was slightly startled upon hearing this.

The Qi family were the Emperor's trusted right-hand aides in his campaigns, military officials who had assisted him since his youth.

The Qi family were pillars of the state, generations of military officials guarding the northern border of Dayuan, deeply trusted by the imperial family.

The current Emperor valued martial prowess, and the Qi family were a solitary loyal clan in the court, constantly guarding the frontier for the Emperor, resolving troubles, rarely returning to the capital.

Even General Qi is coming back...

"If the Qi family is returning, it must be the Emperor's will. With court officials and princes returning to the capital, the opportunity to stand out can only go to my son." It was the induced labor drug used to synchronize her birth with the Empress that had damaged her constitution. Fortunately, years of good medicine had restored her health. Consort Ning looked at herself in the mirror and ordered coldly, "As for that little bastard, when necessary, tell the pharmacy to use stronger medicine."

Bi Zhu said, "Your servant understands."

-

On the other side of Weiyang Palace, Consort Ning had ordered that due to the severe cold, making it easy for pathogenic wind to invade the body, the prince's chambers had been kept tightly sealed for days. Other princes in the palace were held in high regard, but the Sixth Prince never interacted with them and was not favored by the Emperor or Empress Dowager. Since his illness, other palaces had only sent a few gifts of consolation; few had actually visited.

In recent days, since the Sixth Prince had awakened, his mind was drastically different from before. Previously, the Sixth Prince was a man of few words, somewhat cowardly. Since falling into the water and waking up, he could not recall the attendants who served him closely, and his reactions to people and questions were slow. He used to just say little; now he was completely silent, as if under some dark spell.

In the small kitchen, the smell of medicine hung thick in the air. Several palace attendants stood outside whispering—

"Isn't he possessed? When I went to see him this morning, he just sat there without speaking. It's eerie."

"Who can say? He had such a high fever... Shh, don't you want to live? Stop talking!"

"Song An, take the medicine to the prince."

Song An silently carried the medicine out. Catching the disdainful glances of the other attendants, he hunched over and walked past them.

"They always make him do it." "He's willing, always pushing forward for any task." "Enough!"

Song An lowered his eyes, his hand tightening on the tray. Opportunities to serve before the prince were rare. In the past, the other attendants would flock to the prince's side, eager to curry favor. But now that the prince was ill, they feared responsibility and shoved the work onto him.

The voices gradually faded. When Bi Zhu appeared, the attendants' chatter stopped.

Song An had barely taken a few steps when he saw Bi Zhu. The attendants gossiped not just once or twice. When Bi Zhu overheard them, she would only scold them a few words, rarely punishing them. Outsiders said Consort Ning was kind and never strictly disciplined servants, a reincarnated bodhisattva.

Bi Zhu glanced at the medicine and said briefly, "Take it in."

Knowing Bi Zhu would not reprimand them, Song An said nothing more and carried the medicine inside.

The attendants gossiped about the prince, but Song An disagreed. He was a young eunuch whom the prince had saved one winter. Without the prince, he would have died long ago, let alone have a place to live and a purpose in Weiyang Palace.

Although the prince was not eloquent, he treated the palace staff well.

But in others' eyes, the prince's rewards were not enough; they would compare him to other favored princes who gave more silver.

A bunch of ingrates, Song An thought resentfully.

Outside the palace walls, the wind howled for days on end, the chill deepening.

Inside the bedchamber, the charcoal fire blazed, warmth seeping into the bones.

Song An carefully entered with the medicine, looking at the small figure already sitting up on the bed.

The Sixth Prince was sitting up in his robe, his gaze seeming to drift toward the window, where several attendants passed by. Song An's heart tightened at the sight, unsure how long the prince had been watching, whether he had heard the gossip outside.

The room was heavy with the smell of charcoal, but the prince had felt the cold more than usual lately, moving the brazier even closer.

He said softly, "Your Highness, it's very windy outside."

Hearing his call, Ying Fusheng turned around. Seeing Song An, he said hoarsely, "Did you run into her?"

Song An saw the prince's gaze fixed on him. In recent days, the prince had instructed him to avoid others and leave out several ingredients from the physician's prescription. He said, "Just as you ordered. Sister Bi Zhu asked, and I only said I had warmed the medicine. I also followed your instructions about the bitterness and got some licorice root from the Imperial Hospital. Sister Bi Zhu said nothing."

Ying Fusheng looked at him.

Song An lowered his head, his face faintly gloomy, giving him a somewhat sharp and mean look. He knew his looks were not pleasing, often arousing disgust, so he always kept his head down, minimizing his presence.

Ying Fusheng could vaguely see his own future self reflected in Song An's face. The only person he could trust by his side was Song An.

Song An noticed the prince's reticence. "Did Your Highness hear something?"

Gossip—Ying Fusheng had heard plenty. Some people would deliberately come to the cold palace to badmouth him, several times a day, more entertaining than the performers hired by the consorts. Once, he called them in front of him to repeat their words. Those palace attendants stammered, begging forgiveness. Even though he was already a deposed prince, they still cowered before power and wealth, lacking even a shred of the courage they had when whispering in corners.

He found it boring—not loud enough, not exciting enough.

He asked: "What did they say?"

Song An was slightly startled, then replied, "Nothing."

Ying Fusheng saw Song An standing far away and beckoned him over.

Song An moved closer, feeling the warmth of the stove dispelling the outdoor chill. He looked at the prince cautiously, sensing that His Highness had been a bit off lately. He had been rescued by the prince a few winters ago, when the prince was still young—after saving his life, the prince let him stay safely in Weiyang Palace. Even the name "Song An" was something the prince came up with excitedly when he first started learning.

Ying Fusheng took the medicine bowl from Song An's hands, the warmth slowly bringing life back to his cold fingers.

The steam from the medicine curled upward, mirroring his reflection and slowly hiding the chill in his eyes.

These past few days, he had been pretending his fever hadn't subsided. Song An was clever, and Consort Ning and Bi Zhu remained unaware.

After so many years, Consort Ning's vigilance had long eroded—who would be overly wary of a ten-year-old child? But to be safe, Ying Fusheng still had Song An secretly decoct the medicine and mix the new dregs with the old ones. Fortunately, the room was thick with the smell of medicine, and even when Bi Zhu entered several times, she didn't notice the dregs that had been burned to ash along with the stove ashes.

But after being fed secret drugs for ten years, Ying Fusheng's body had long been weakened by maltreatment. This time, though it was only a fall into the water, the fever drained him of several days' vitality. Even after the fever broke, his bones ached faintly, and the slightest thought caused a splitting headache.

He knew the residual poison in his body wasn't fully purged, and simply stopping the drugs wouldn't solve it. Over time, it might make Consort Ning suspect something. Seeking new medicine on his own would arouse suspicion. Fortunately, in his previous life, he had been chronically ill for a long time and still had some understanding of those secret drugs, so he could remove certain medicinal adjuvants. But this was not a long-term solution.

If someone could administer secret drugs right under the imperial physician's nose, the physician who came to the palace often was probably in on it too. If he exposed these things, not only would no one believe him, but with Consort Ning covering for him, they'd say the fever made him lose his mind—then he would truly be trapped in a desperate situation.

The chill in his bones just wouldn't let up, and even two charcoal stoves could not relieve the cold in his body. After finishing the bowl of medicine, Ying Fusheng couldn't help coughing a few times.

Hearing this, Song An grew tense. "Your Highness?"

Song An had no choice but to move the charcoal stove closer.

Ying Fusheng stretched out his hands to warm them by the fire, feeling the warmth right in front of him, and murmured, "It's a pity it's not silver-chip charcoal—that's the real deal."

Song An glanced slightly at the prince. Since waking after the fall into the water, His Highness had been particularly mindful of such things. A couple of days ago, when he woke up, he had even scolded Song An for not being thrifty. Lately, he occasionally said a few hard-to-understand words. In the past, the prince would never have cared about what kind of charcoal was burned.

Ying Fusheng wrapped himself tighter. In the cold palace, where could such things be found? The charcoal that was distributed had to be fought for. But now, these small items could be obtained casually... This is why everyone wants to be above others.

Seeing the prince's silence, Song An glanced sideways at the small objects that had been sent over. "Sister Bi Zhu said the Consort has sent some things."

The prince longed for Consort Ning's affection, but during his many days of illness, she had only come once, mostly sending things to fob him off... Even though His Highness was her only child, Song An didn't understand why the Consort was so indifferent. Worried that the prince would feel hurt, he whispered, "Shall your servant arrange them for Your Highness?"

Ying Fusheng's illness hadn't fully recovered, and there were faint signs of worsening. He was burning with fever all day. When the news reached Consort Ning, she knew that the little extra dose Bi Zhu had slipped in was taking effect. She came over a few times, faking concern, and it was obvious she had been in a good mood recently. Sometimes she would even bring Ying Fusheng a few small trinkets.

Little paper trinkets, casually placed by Ying Fusheng's couch, with a few words of concern woven into her conversation. This had been the norm for many years. She would always show a bit of concern at the right moments, which would have made his foolish former self utterly devoted.

In the bedchamber, the items Consort Ning had sent were all displayed in plain sight, free of dust, but few in number.

The things that belonged to him were very few. There were no Four Books or Five Classics—only random histories and odd books that Consort Ning casually gave him. In the past, he knew Consort Ning liked him to avoid conflict and be obedient, so he always went along. But in his previous life, in the cold palace, a single jade pendant could only get him by for half a month, and a bit of silver wasn't enough to bribe the eunuchs. He and Song An barely survived the first winter.

"If she sends more, say that these things make me so happy I drink a few extra bowls of medicine," Ying Fusheng said. "Take them if they're given, and put them in my private stash. Anything we can pawn, sell it off for something practical."

Song An let out a surprised gasp. Didn't His Highness used to treasure the Consort's gifts?

He quickly said, "Your servant understands."

"Aren't you going to ask anything?" Ying Fusheng looked at him with deep, dark eyes.

Song An shook his head and simply said, "Whatever you command, I'll do."

Ying Fusheng gave him a deep look. In his past life, when he told Song An to run, the boy hadn't listened.

He pushed aside his thoughts and looked down to notice his hands trembling uncontrollably, hiding his hands under the quilt as he calmed himself.

The hall was silent, his gaze fixed on the door.

Outside the hall, thick snow covered the palace walls, with only a few scattered palace attendants moving about—these days had been unusually quiet.

It took Ying Fusheng several days to adjust to being a child again. He asked, “Has anything happened in the palace lately? There are fewer people.”

From his childhood memories, Ying Fusheng had forgotten too much. Later, after years of confinement, he lost track of time. By the end, his mental state was so deteriorated that even recognizing a eunuch took him a long while—or he had simply forgotten many irrelevant people.

Song An was taken aback, then explained, “Your Highness, have you forgotten? The Empress Dowager’s birthday is approaching.”

Those words cleared Ying Fusheng’s foggy mind. He recalled that a few days ago, while he was delirious with fever, Consort Ning had casually mentioned the Empress Dowager’s birthday to comfort him. The Empress Dowager’s birthday was always hosted by the Empress. In her previous life, Consort Ning had always maintained an aloof demeanor; her most common tactic was to play the innocent and pull strings from behind the scenes, rarely taking action on her own.

The Empress Dowager’s birthday happened every year, but there was one particular occasion that was extremely important to Consort Ning.

“Is Father about to return in triumph…?” Ying Fusheng asked hesitantly.

Song An paused, slightly puzzled. “His Majesty is still at the front lines, but I’ve heard from the palace attendants that good news has come from the court these past few days.”

So it was this period…

Ying Fusheng’s eyes sharpened. The details of his fall into the icy river that winter night were blurry in his memory. He had been burning with fever for days, nearly dying. Afterward, he could hardly recall what happened during his illness, let alone events from his childhood.

He knew about this birthday because it was a major event praised in later generations.

This was the time when his father, the Emperor, personally led the campaign to conquer the border tribes. Coinciding with the Empress Dowager’s birthday, the Emperor returned victorious, and the entire nation rejoiced as a general amnesty was declared. All the princes and princesses vied for the Emperor and Empress Dowager’s favor at the banquet. Only he, because of a lingering severe illness, was left with chronic health problems and became a neglected and dispensable prince.

But most importantly, at this banquet, all civil and military officials, even regional princes, were summoned back. The general amnesty was declared nationwide. In his previous life, at this very moment, the Emperor returned in triumph, and at the banquet, Consort Ning’s biological son—the False Crown Prince—stole the spotlight. He not only presented a gift that delighted the Empress Dowager but also won the Emperor’s praise with clever words. At the age of ten, he became famous throughout the land, laying the foundation for his future reputation as a virtuous prince, inspiring countless poor scholars.

“So I fell into the water at this time…” Ying Fusheng’s eyes flickered.

He suspected that his fall into the water had been deliberately orchestrated by Consort Ning.

The life-saving medicine laced with hidden ingredients—young as he was, he had no way to confront Consort Ning directly. Under the guise of care, she had confined and deliberately weakened him. If he continued like this, he would only be trapped within the walls of a single palace, reliving the same fate.

Being trapped in Weiyang Palace was an inescapable cycle, Ying Fusheng could not accept it. To be used, imprisoned for years, living like a dog, and finally watching those who climbed over his corpse gain power—he and Song An were nothing but mere ants that could be crushed with a single word from those in high positions.

Like now—even a life-saving dose of medicine had to be administered in secret.

But why should it be like this?

The birthday banquet was his only chance. He not only had to go, but he also had to find a way to escape Consort Ning’s control.

Over the past few days, he had taken the chance to observe the palace grounds. Although few people seemed to be around, there were still attendants moving back and forth—likely Consort Ning’s spies. The moment he stepped out of the palace, they would report to her immediately.

Attending the banquet was no easy task. Given his current situation, if he acted rashly, Consort Ning could find any excuse to keep him confined in Weiyang Palace. So before the banquet, he could not afford to alert her.

To lull Consort Ning into complacency, he could not let his illness improve. He could not leave here.

That was when he needed an external force—a legitimate reason to attend the banquet. Otherwise, he and Song An would end up with the same fate.

Song An quietly watched his prince, his eyes betraying concern. Ever since the prince had regained consciousness after falling into the water, he would often stare blankly out of the hall, speaking not a word, as if his soul had been taken away.

Ying Fusheng’s eyelids drooped slightly. He rubbed the fabric of his clothes with his fingers, and after a long moment, he came back to himself and asked, “Has Mother been going to Wangyue Pavilion every day recently?”

Almost all the attendants of Weiyang Palace went outside daily. Consort Ning was entrusted with the important task of organizing the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet. According to Ying Fusheng’s memory, the banquet in his previous life had been held at Wangyue Pavilion.

Song An had also been frequently dispatched by other attendants in recent days, so he naturally knew something about it. He said, “The banquet is near, and Her Ladyship is very devoted. I’ve been there recently, and Wangyue Pavilion looks quite different from usual.”

Ying Fusheng confirmed that this matched his memory.

In his memory, to avoid arousing the Empress's suspicion, Consort Ning rarely took the initiative to approach the Empress in the past, and she had earned a good reputation within the palace.

Such a non-confrontational person would not attract the attention and jealousy of other concubines, and many things could be easily handled with just a bit of initiative.

When the Crown Prince was young, it could be ignored, but now that his wings were growing, Consort Ning could no longer hold back.

Ying Fusheng pondered silently—the more Consort Ning wanted to stay low-key and hide in the shadows, the more he needed to push her, to push his mother, Consort Ning, into the spotlight. The place to exploit was Wangyue Pavilion.

"Song An, there's something I need you to do."

Ying Fusheng suddenly spoke: "In a few days, it will be the Imperial Pharmacy's procurement time. I need you to handle a task for me."

Recently, because of his lord, Song An had been sneaking to the Imperial Hospital every time, and luckily, the hospital had many visitors, so no one remembered him. He was puzzled about what medicine his lord wanted this time, but then he saw his lord take a few taels of silver and a token from his private treasury. He froze and heard Ying Fusheng say, "No, this time you can't go to the pharmacy boy at the Imperial Hospital. The Imperial Hospital has a procurement from the Imperial Pharmacy every ten days. The procurement eunuch will inspect and verify the medicinal herbs. You go to the Imperial Pharmacy at that time and find a eunuch named Fu'an."

Song An immediately became cautious. "What should this servant do?"

There were too many people in the palace who couldn't afford medicine, and the Imperial Pharmacy wasn't accessible to just any eunuch. When medicine merchants delivered herbs to the imperial city, amid the crowd and chaos, private transactions would occur. In his previous life, when Ying Fusheng was confined to the cold palace, he barely survived many times thanks to a female physician who treated him and informed him of this little backdoor to buy some medicine to stay alive.

And the eunuch Fu'an was the one who opened this path. Money could make the devil turn the millstone, especially in this palace, where such people were adept at reading the wind.

When the female physician told him, she said that Eunuch Fu'an had worked in the Imperial Pharmacy for many years, had saved many palace servants who couldn't afford medicine, and had also handled many shady matters.

This life-saving route was unknown to the palace nobles and hard to trace.

Ying Fusheng gave a few simple instructions. Song An was taken aback at first; he didn't know what his lord intended, but he still remembered everything: "This servant understands."

He then took the order and left.

After he was gone, Ying Fusheng looked out through the crack in the window. The palace servants outside Weiyang Palace were still busy. When Song An first went out, one or two servants glanced up at him, but seeing it was just a young eunuch, they lowered their heads and continued their sweeping, and no one noticed that Song An had changed direction after leaving.

Ying Fusheng watched those servants for a few moments, only turning back into the inner chamber after Song An disappeared from sight. He then pulled out a simple acupuncture needle pack from behind the bedding, took out a needle, and pricked acupoints to stimulate his meridians and maintain his body temperature.

Feeling the warmth rising inside, he cautiously disposed of everything else.

When he lowered his eyes, they were filled with coldness.

As the warmth inside him gradually rose, persistent fever was fatal for a young child. Ying Fusheng had no intention of courting death. The needling technique he used now was taught by a female physician in his previous life to stimulate blood flow. Back then, it was used to keep him alive through harsh winters; now, it would overstimulate his body, raising his temperature enough to deceive others.

Only by being sick to the point of unconsciousness would he avoid arousing suspicion.

Ying Fusheng lowered his eyes and casually tossed aside the paper cricket he had treasured from his past life. The firelight flickered, and the residue of medicinal herbs left from the charcoal fire still remained.

He sat fully clothed, wide awake, his gaze piercing the solid walls toward the distant Wangyue Pavilion.

There was still time; he needed to plan slowly and carefully.

Since Consort Ning was so fond of drugging people, he would return the favor this time.