Chapter 270: Old Tales (II)

Chapter 270: Old Tales (II)

The water on the tea stove had been boiling for some time, white steam surging from the spout and twisting into crane-like shapes in the air.

Xiang Zhi gazed at the curling tea smoke, but his eyes pierced through the mist, settling on memories further away.

Xiang Zhizheng coughed once, took a sip of tea, and guiltily let his gaze drift elsewhere.

He had lied.

In truth, back then, in his childish frankness, what he had said was, "Then Father Emperor and Consort Zhuang are really too wicked."

Otherwise, his mother wouldn't have clamped her hand over his mouth so hard that she nearly stopped his breath.

Xiang Zhizheng had kept this old matter bottled up inside for years. Had his mother not already passed away, he would likely have carried this secret into his grave.

Xiang Zhi murmured to himself: "...Why?"

Following Imperial Consort Zhuang, Xiang Zhijie couldn't enjoy any blessings—that was one thing—but why should his very life be in danger?

His expression at this moment was exactly like that of the inquisitive Xiang Zhizheng from years past.

...

Having finally escaped Lady Deng's grip, Xiang Zhizheng stubbornly pressed on: "Why? Xiaoliu is barely over a year old—he's not even old enough to get into any real trouble."

As the second brother, he had held quite a few younger siblings in his arms.

Xiaoliu could be counted among the best-behaved of them—rarely cried, rarely fussed. When hungry, he'd let out a couple of grunts; when awake, he'd lie there playing with his rattan ball.

Before asking his question, Xiang Zhizheng had already prepared himself for his mother's silence.

Whenever she couldn't answer his questions, she would often choose silence.

But perhaps because she had been so shaken that day, the usually taciturn Lady Deng was unusually chatty: "Your Father Emperor is very fond of your Consort Zhuang, do you know that?"

Xiang Zhizheng nodded.

Who didn't know that the Emperor favored Consort Zhuang?

Because of the late Emperor's influence, the Emperor held Huang-Lao Daoist philosophy in great contempt.

Yet, such an Emperor actually allowed Consort Zhuang to rename Fengyi Palace as Qingxi Palace, allowed her to dress herself as a Daoist nun.

If his mother had done something so against the Emperor's will, she would surely receive a harsh scolding and have half a year's palace allowance deducted.

"Consort Zhuang's temperament wasn't always like this," Lady Deng said, her tone carrying a smile—the joy of remembering happier days. "...Everyone liked her."

Hearing these words, both the young Xiang Zhizheng in the past memory and the present Xiang Zhi couldn't help but twitch their lips.

...Liked whom?

Imperial Consort Zhuang?

Liked what about her? Were they hoping she'd succeed in her cultivation and take them along when she flew up to the heavens?

Seeing the bewildered look on young Xiang Zhizheng's face, Lady Deng revealed a faint, wan smile: "She was a wonderful person... The youngest daughter of the Zhuang family. She was skilled at polo and horseback archery, loved wearing red, was generous and open with everyone, smiled at everyone she met, never gave us 'chamber maids' a hard time, and would even join us in badmouthing the Emperor..."

Upon hearing this, Xiang Zhizheng, who had just secretly read a book of strange tales, felt a chill run down his spine and even began to let his imagination run wild:

Had his mother been hexed or something when she went to the imperial garden earlier?

She was talking crazy now!

It's not like he'd never seen Consort Zhuang before!

Unaware of the terror on her son's face, Lady Deng wore a dreamy, far-off expression: "On the Double Ninth Festival the year I first came to the prince's household, I hid away and cried because I was homesick, and Consort Zhuang discovered me."

"She asked me what I was crying about..."

Lady Deng's father was a low-ranking sixth-grade official who had recently been reprimanded by the Crown Prince for failing at his duties.

She was genuinely worried, but didn't dare say she was homesick, so she made up a flimsy excuse about wanting to see the lantern festival that night but being unable to leave, and that was why she was crying.

Zhuang Lantai pursed her lips in disdain: "Crying over that! How spineless!"

Lady Deng hadn't quite figured out what a young woman like her was supposed to amount to, when a handkerchief smelling of orchids was handed to her.

Zhuang Lantai strode off. Lady Deng clutched the handkerchief, blankly wiped her tears, then went back to serving the Crown Prince at his desk, planning to wash it and sneak it back to Consort Zhuang later.

But before long, Zhuang Lantai stormed into the study: "I'm going out!"

"What are you kicking up a fuss about now?" The young Crown Prince was always especially good-natured with Zhuang Lantai. Even his scoldings were full of obvious indulgence. "Weren't you raising a ruckus about playing polo the other day? Didn't I let you go? Where else do you want to go gallivanting off to?"

Zhuang Lantai was acting tough: "There's a lantern festival for the Double Ninth tonight. I'm going."

Xiang Zheng flat-out refused: "No. Tonight the Crown Princess and I are going to the palace for a family dinner. You stay home and be good—you're not going anywhere."

"Then I'll just climb the wall and sneak out," Zhuang Lantai said, not scared of him in the least. "Having Awan keep you company is boring enough already. I'll buy her a flower pin to brighten her day. Don't take my kindness for granted!"

Xiang Zheng ribbed her: "And what about me? Do I get anything?"

Zhuang Lantai answered readily: "What do you want? Write me a list."

"I haven't agreed to let you go yet."

"Why are you being so wishy-washy?" Zhuang Lantai frowned. "If you're not agreeing, then why ask if there's anything for you?"

Lady Deng, who had witnessed the entire exchange: "..."

Her hand grinding the inkstick was trembling.

She wouldn't dare say even half a sentence like that to the Crown Prince even if given a hundred times the courage.

At the time, she thought Zhuang Lantai was simply taking advantage of being the favored one.

Later, she came to understand that Zhuang Lantai truly didn't take Xiang Zheng seriously at all.

Zhuang Lantai looked down on Xiang Zheng's roundabout personality—never speaking directly, always making people guess, utterly unsatisfying.

On the contrary, it was Xiang Zheng who craved the vibrant, fiery vitality she carried.

It was something he had never possessed in his entire life, and he couldn't help but yearn for it.

Precisely because she didn't care, and because she could see that he did, Zhuang Lantai acted as she pleased.

This way, she could secure more benefits for herself, for others, and for her family.

Sure enough, after being needled by her, Xiang Zheng laughed instead of getting angry: "I say one thing, and you always have ten waiting for me. Can't I just be worried about your safety?"

Zhuang Lantai pointed at Deng Shi as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "If you're worried I might run off, have her accompany me. She's loyal to you, isn't she?"

That night, Deng Shi disguised herself as a palace lady and accompanied her on her outing.

Zhuang Lantai wandered about, carefully selecting a chrysanthemum-patterned pearl hairpin for Consort Rong, and casually bought a box of five-colored Double Ninth Festival cakes to bring back and palm off on Xiang Zheng.

She came across a small shop selling sachets and took a liking to a pale pink silk sachet (kesi weave) adorned with dogwood patterns, embroidered at the bottom in a repeating stitch with the phrase, "A parent's sole concern is a child's health."

Zhuang Lantai picked up the sachet and held it up to Deng Shi's waist.

Deng Shi panicked and whispered, "Milady, no, I'm not worthy..."

Zhuang Lantai rolled her eyes. "Even lambs and crows yearn for their kin. Why wouldn't a fine girl like you be worthy of such a gift?"

Deng Shi was stunned.

Zhuang Lantai tied it on for her and said softly, "Your father made a small mistake. The Crown Prince scolded him to teach him a lesson—no need to worry. If you're doing well, they'll be happy, right?"

With that, she stepped back, examined her for a moment, and looked at her approvingly.

"Beautiful!" She beamed like a rosy sunset. "Now that it's on, no more tears!"

But Deng Shi still couldn't help but cry.

As she wept, she thought, Consort Zhuang is truly kind, truly wonderful.

...

Xiang Zhizheng, at four or five years old, was already bigger than other children his age. He nestled into his frail mother's arms and gently wiped her face with his small hand. "Mother, why are you crying again?"

You still haven't told me why Father threw Xiaoliu into the water.

Deng Shi wiped her tears with the palm of her hand and grabbed his arm.

"Your father..." Deng Shi's hand was ice-cold, and she spoke slowly, word by word. "Zheng'er, you must be extremely careful around your father. He's the emperor first, and only then a father to you and your brothers and sisters. Even if he comes to like you in the future, you must never truly offend him, or he'll grind you down without mercy..."

Xiang Zhizheng was scatterbrained his whole life—he'd read a sentence and forget the one before it—but this one, he remembered with crystal clarity.

—Perhaps because, when his mother said it, her eyes held hot tears, and with each word, one fell, so hot it made him shiver.

Because his mother kept changing the subject, to this day, Xiang Zhizheng still didn't know why Xiang Zhijie had been thrown into the water.

But Xiang Zhishi had already figured it out.

His father... Xiang Zheng, had taken from his mother not a son, but a bargaining chip.

A chip to use against Imperial Consort Zhuang.

He'd wait until Consort Zhuang had grown attached to the child, then make his move.

For instance, once Xiang Zhijie was over a year old, already crawling, walking, and babbling "Mama" in a sweet voice, he'd bring him to the water's edge to force Consort Zhuang to obey him.

If Consort Zhuang yielded, then Xiang Zhijie would from then on be placed on the gambling table, becoming a handy pawn.

Consort Zhuang refused to save him precisely to keep Xiang Zhijie off that table, to spare him endless unnecessary suffering later on.

—If you have the nerve, then truly drown your own child.

Even if the Historiographer weren't present, and the annals recorded that the Sixth Prince died from accidental drowning, at least the world would be spared one father-son tragedy, one more child dying of a broken heart.

Xiang Zhishi suppressed the chilling dread and took a different tack, thinking of another matter: "Consort Zhuang just watched, and Father never gave the order—so who dared to rescue him?"

If Father could do such a thing, he must have only trusted confidants around him.

Though his mother and Lady Deng had witnessed the scene, in Second Brother's account, neither lady had fallen into the water.

So who was the first to yield?

Xiang Zhizheng took a warm sip of tea, his mouth turning down in a complicated expression.

Xiang Zhishi: "?" What does that mean?

Soon, Xiang Zhizheng gave the answer: "In those days, wasn't the third son of General Zhaoyi quite favored by Father?"

"Father intended to pick a good companion for Eldest Brother, so he summoned him for a test. Finding that, though the same age as Eldest Brother, he was even more refined in policy essays and scholarship, Father promised in his golden words that if he continued to learn well and didn't squander his talent like that Fang Zhongyong, he could even become a tutor to the princes."

"That day he entered the palace, originally to express gratitude..."

Xiang Zhishi: "..." Alright, he didn't want to hear any more.

Author's note:

Why Yaya was nicknamed "water monkey" by Second Brother—callback √

The backstory of Xiaoliu's fear of water—callback √

Xiaoqi's passive skill buff for digging up sweetness—callback √