Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Be careful, sister," someone called out.

Consort Ning's fingers slipped, knocking over her wine goblet. The liquid splashed across the floor. The Crown Prince had already left his seat, only his retreating figure remaining. Many eyes turned toward her, and Consort Ning caught the Empress Dowager's warning glance from the high seat. Seeing the Crown Prince approach the Empress to offer tea, she panicked, her fingers turning icy.

The Crown Prince paid no heed to Consort Ning behind him. As he drew near the Empress, he sensed her reproachful gaze and softened his voice: "Mother."

Empress Xu's slender fingers paused on the cup. Seeing the Crown Prince's hesitant expression, she set the cup down. "You shouldn't have acted on your own with the birthday gift for the Emperor."

Noticing his troubled expression with no sign of remorse, Empress Xu sighed and shook her head. The Crown Prince's gaze repeatedly drifted toward the banquet hall, where the highly visible Sixth Prince sat, already eclipsing him in attention. Her initial appreciation for Ying Fusheng gradually faded. Looking at her son, who was at a loss before her, she said softly: "I've told you before—no one will become an obstacle for you."

The Crown Prince was startled. "Mother..."

"Be that as it may." Empress Xu placed her hand on his. "If your maternal grandfather says anything, don't take it too seriously."

At the mention of his maternal grandfather, the Crown Prince tensed and followed Empress Xu's gaze.

Among the civil officials' seats, an elderly man stirred the wine before him and cast a distant glance in his direction.

The Crown Prince knew well that tonight's affair might have already sparked his grandfather's displeasure. Even without his mother saying so, he sensed her disappointment.

He unconsciously tightened his grip on his sleeves, the scene of Ying Fusheng presenting the painting and earning the hall's admiration replaying in his mind.

The sounds of music filled the Wangyue Pavilion. Ying Fusheng silently averted his gaze from Empress Xu.

He didn't need to guess. The moment he saw the Jade Beast Statue, he knew the Crown Prince had swapped the gifts on his own.

In his former life, the Crown Prince had shone at the birthday banquet, mainly due to two gifts.

Without the swap, the Ten Thousand Horses painting would have become a tool for the Xu family—praising Emperor Wu and the generals, with the young Crown Prince using it to honor them before the entire court. If he recalled correctly, Empress Xu had prepared another painting for the Crown Prince, complementing the Ten Thousand Horses, leaving a deep impression on the military officials.

That was her way—always preparing everything perfectly for the Crown Prince.

The Crown Prince had no need to scheme, yet he had managed to ruin such a perfect opportunity.

Ying Fusheng suddenly found the tender scene a bit dazzling.

"Your Highness, has the hand warmer gone cold?" Song An, the attendant beside him, asked.

Ying Fusheng came back to himself, realizing the hand warmer Empress Xu had given him had turned cold. He still held it, tracing the patterns on its surface, but said nothing. He simply withdrew his now-chilled hand into his sleeve, clenching it tightly, the sharp sting of coldness pulling him back to his thoughts.

Amid the music and dance of the pavilion, the civil and military officials exchanged toasts. One corner of the banquet was unusually quiet.

No civil officials approached, and the military men were at ease.

One military official said, "I never thought the Ning family could be so patient." Vice Minister Ning's moment of glory caught many eyes. Another added, "The Xu family hasn't made a move yet, but the Nings have already stepped up."

"That's just how court banquets are. Why bother with them? The Shrine of Generals is a good thing. As for the rest, better to give us more military pay."

"Quiet." A light reprimand was heard.

The military officials withdrew their probing gazes and looked toward General Qi, who sat at the head. General Qi remained unruffled, paying no mind to his subordinates' chatter. The Emperor's decisions were not theirs to speculate.

At the Qi family's table, Qi Shen's voice silenced any dissent among the military officials.

Beside the general, a young man who had barely spoken all evening slightly narrowed his eyes, looking toward the lively banquet hall.

"The Nings are indeed peculiar," he said.

The young man was about fourteen years old. He stood out amid the magnificence, his back straight as a ramrod. He sat beside General Qi, as if an invisible line separated him from the rest, yet none of the military officials underestimated him. His gaze differed from the others—not lingering on Vice Minister Ning but fixed on the prince, a hint of scrutiny and curiosity in his eyes, as if observing something.

"Han Zhou," Qi Shen said.

But the young man replied, "Father, he's a clever man."

Qi Shen said, "The imperial family does not raise the weak."

The young man sat upright, his gaze shifting to the self-possessed Empress Xu and the Crown Prince. The contrast between the Ning and Xu families was stark. Yet even so, he warily glanced at the restless Noble Consort Ning, sensing something was off.

The Ning family had bided their time for years before striking. But more than that, there was something different about the distant figure. Though his gift earned thunderous applause and imperial favor, with rewards already bestowed, that shy, quiet face betrayed no joy, as still as stagnant water.

It was as if all this acclaim could never fill the ambition hidden in his eyes.

Sensing a faint, persistent gaze, Ying Fusheng suddenly paused.

When he looked up, his gaze landed on the Qi family's quiet table. He swept his gaze across the seats and met someone's eyes.

The young man's gaze was sharp as a knife, his youthful face already devoid of any childishness. The fierce aura around his brow seemed to overlap with a pair of eyes from a later era, reminding Ying Fusheng of a falcon's eyes.

After about three heartbeats, the young man withdrew his gaze, the chill about him dissipated, his piercing stare vanishing as if it had never been.

"He noticed me," Ying Fusheng said.

Song An tensed, following his gaze to the imposing, burly figure in the distance. "You mean the General of the Northern Garrison?"

Ying Fusheng didn't answer. He simply brushed some dust off his court robes, his eyes dark and inscrutable as he looked down.

When he snapped out of it, his thoughts pulled away from distant memories, his expression returning to normal.

"It's nothing."

-*

Late into the night, the banquet concluded, and the consorts returned to their palaces.

Consort Ning, who had been holding back all evening, almost lost control and sent someone to fetch Ying Fusheng immediately. Too many eyes had been on her from start to finish—one wrong move and the Empress Dowager would warn her. She dared not act rashly. But now that it was over, things were different. Too much had happened tonight. She needed to know who had given that bastard Ying Fusheng the idea for such a gift.

"You can't find him?!" Consort Ning's voice nearly cracked when she heard Bi Zhu's report.

Bi Zhu had searched for him as soon as the banquet ended, but the Sixth Prince was already gone. "Perhaps he went somewhere else. I'll look again!"

As the banquet dispersed, people came and went.

Ying Fusheng deliberately took a detour.

The night wind was biting. Even before the banquet ended, Consort Ning had been eager to send someone to bring him back. True to her nature, she had held back until the end, but now that the Crown Prince hadn't shone, she must be anxious as his birth mother.

Further away, Empress Xu's carriage had already departed.

Ying Fusheng was still watching when another figure appeared before him.

Lady Yu, the Empress Dowager's attendant, waited outside the Wangyue Pavilion, two palace maids beside her. Spotting Ying Fusheng, she approached and said, "Her Majesty noticed during the banquet that you looked unwell."

Ying Fusheng noticed Song An's worried look and realized his body was drenched in cold sweat, a wave of chills and heat surging from within. Despite his careful nursing over the past period, his long-depleted constitution had crumbled after half a night of wind in the pavilion.

"The imperial physician is already waiting at Cining Palace," Lady Yu said.

By the time Ying Fusheng arrived at Cining Palace, the Empress Dowager's personal physician was waiting.

Ying Fusheng moved to bow, but the Empress Dowager asked, "Why didn't you tell the attendants when the fever started?"

Ying Fusheng was taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected the Empress Dowager to ask this question, and for a moment, he didn’t react.

The Empress Dowager glanced at him slightly and waved for the imperial physician to come over.

He had been putting on a show throughout the palace banquet, knowing exactly what facade to put on to lull the wary into complacency. Wearing a false mask for so long, by the time Ying Fusheng came back to his senses, the imperial physician was already checking his pulse.

The main hall of Cining Palace was filled with the lingering scent of sandalwood. As the physician checked his pulse, the Empress Dowager sat nearby. Fresh from the banquet, her regal aura had yet to dissipate, and her usually expressionless face bore an added layer of calm. Only when the physician spoke with Lady Yu did she tilt her ear to listen a few times, her hand pausing and resuming its motion as she turned the prayer beads.

"The night wind is strong. You should have worn more clothes," the Empress Dowager said, lifting her eyelids slightly.

Ying Fusheng paused, then admitted his fault directly: "I, your grandson, will be more careful next time."

The Empress Dowager said nothing more.

He watched her sit beside him, her carefully maintained face showing signs of age. Even as the physician spoke, she merely listened to a few words indifferently, as if her earlier scolding had been nothing but an illusion.

"Your Highness’s constitution is depleted; even minor drafts and chills pose a hidden danger," the physician said. Over this period, he had taken Ying Fusheng’s pulse many times and had long anticipated the near-exhausted state of his foundation. "This will require careful recuperation."

"Prescribe a few nourishing formulas for him," the Empress Dowager finally nodded, addressing Lady Yu. "Light a few more braziers in the side hall to keep him from catching cold. It’s getting late; escort the Sixth Prince to rest."

Before Ying Fusheng could speak, the Empress Dowager had already arranged everything. She was always decisive in her actions, and once she finished her instructions, she raised her hand in a gesture. Lady Yu approached from beside her to support her arm, signaling that it was time for her to retire.

"Your Highness," a palace attendant prompted.

Only then did Ying Fusheng bow, following the attendant as he departed.

Watching Ying Fusheng disappear into the distance, Lady Yu helped the Empress Dowager close the window and said quietly, "Consort Ning has sent someone to inquire. I have turned them away as per your orders. Should I explain the matter to Consort Ning?"

The Empress Dowager closed her eyes, resting, her hand stilling slowly as she turned the prayer beads. "You noticed his complexion turning worse, but Consort Ning did not. A perfectly good prince—look what she's turned him into."

Lady Yu paused briefly at this. Having served the Empress Dowager for many years, she understood the implication of her words. The Empress Dowager valued tranquility and had always treated the princes and princesses of the harem uniformly, without favoritism. The Sixth Prince’s overnight stay at Cining Palace might seem like a special case, but if it had been any other prince, the Empress Dowager would have similarly let him rest and recover.

Recently, the Sixth Prince had been making his morning and evening visits with proper formality. The Empress Dowager seemed indifferent, but she noticed everything—especially the birthday gift he had prepared. With Cining Palace filled with her eyes and ears, sincerity or lack thereof was something she could judge most clearly.

Consort Ning’s inability to raise a proper prince had become a settled conclusion in the Empress Dowager’s mind.

"Your servant understands," Lady Yu replied.

-

The night in Cining Palace was extremely quiet. When Ying Fusheng returned to the side hall, he felt the warmth within.

Following the Empress Dowager’s instructions, the attendants had already prepared everything.

Song An had been accompanying His Highness during his stay at Cining Palace, and he had noticed—not just the Empress Dowager, but also how attentive the palace staff were—so different from Weiyang Palace. He was about to speak when he looked up and saw His Highness staring at the charcoal brazier.

"Lady Yu told them to bring all this silver-thread charcoal," a palace attendant said.

Ying Fusheng turned his head. On a side table in the distance were several inkstones, newly delivered by the Empress Dowager. The precious inkstones were left uncovered. Ying Fusheng lowered his gaze; when his fingers touched the bed mat, it was warm—clearly preheated with a stove, the heat lingering and constant.

"Your Highness, the Empress Dowager is very good to you," Song An said.

Very well... Ying Fusheng didn’t quite understand.

The attendants carried out the Empress Dowager’s orders, but with her nature, she wouldn’t show favoritism toward any prince. Yet the arrangements tonight clearly showed her favor. She could have sent the imperial physician to Weiyang Palace instead of keeping him here.

Had she discovered something?

He had been so conspicuous during the banquet that many people had taken notice.

This move at the birthday feast was indeed rash, but he had no other opportunity. Only this could bring the Ning family and himself—a marginal prince—to the attention of those in power. If he were to return to Weiyang Palace, the incident at Wangyue Court would surely leave Consort Ning with a lasting impression. Given her ruthlessness, who knew if he’d ever get another chance?

Young and limited in every way, the only person who could rein in Consort Ning was the Empress Dowager. Ying Fusheng had considered other plans and thought of using the Empress Dowager. He had planned to shamelessly stay on at Cining Palace after the feast—dignity and formality were things to show when needed and discard when not. But before he could act, the Empress Dowager herself chose to keep him.

The more he thought, the more his head ached. The Empress Dowager’s unusual behavior bewildered him. Having been schemed against too often in his past life, now any small kindness made him suspect hidden motives.

Ying Fusheng, breaking his habit, pushed open the window.

Outside, the palace attendants had withdrawn, leaving only two night guards.

Ying Fusheng stopped mid-gesture.

"Your Highness, it’s cold outside," Song An said, confused. "Is something wrong?"

Ying Fusheng closed the window, his thoughts fading like smoke. "Nothing."

The warmth of the palace gradually enveloped him, and the lingering chill in his bones eased slightly.

The Empress Dowager had left no other spies behind. It was more free of surveillance than even Weiyang Palace.

It was as though all these arrangements were simply... for his sake.