Chapter 156: Mountain Rain (3)

Xiao Ziyu continued to cry, her sorrow profound and heart-wrenching. “Brother, please don’t kill him… You know it yourself—I love him… I love him so much…”

She wept as though her heart were breaking into pieces, but Xiao Ziteng, watching her anguish, felt only a deep discomfort that fueled his irritation. In a cold voice, he snapped, “You may love him, but does he love you? Xiao Ziyu, wake up! How long do you intend to deceive yourself like this? Qi Jingchen doesn’t love you! He’s never even looked at you as a woman!”

These words were brutally direct, piercing Xiao Ziyu’s heart like a dagger. Her pain intensified, and she abruptly raised her head to stare at her brother, shouting in defiance, “That’s impossible! I grew up with him—he’s always treated me well! He must have feelings for me!”

She paused mid-sentence, memories of his evasions and rejections flashing through her mind, causing her resolve to falter slightly. Her voice softened, but she stubbornly pressed on, “…Even if he doesn’t feel that way now, water can carve through stone, and ropes can saw through wood. His heart isn’t made of iron! As long as I persist—just keep trying—I’m sure I’ll…”

Before she could finish, her brother cut her off sharply.

Xiao Ziteng was both pained and furious, his eyes blazing with anger as he barked, “Xiao Ziyu, you’re a princess! Not some stray cat or dog begging for scraps. How far are you willing to degrade yourself before you’ve had enough?”

Xiao Ziyu was sobbing uncontrollably now, unable to respond for a long while.

The emperor seemed utterly exhausted, falling silent for an extended moment. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he gazed at his weeping sister, his expression softening slightly. Taking a steadying breath, he said, “There are more men in this world than just Qi Jingchen. I promise you, I’ll find you a good husband—a man who will cherish you wholeheartedly. He…”

But the emperor’s attempt at persuasion was abruptly interrupted by his distraught sister. Princess Liuyu, still crying bitterly, suddenly shouted, her voice shrill and defiant, “Never! I don’t want anyone else—I only want Brother Jingchen! If Your Majesty insists on killing him, then kill me too! Just remember, if he dies, it will be by your own hand that I am driven to my death!”

This declaration, so irrational and emotionally charged, left the new emperor thoroughly exasperated. Yet before he could vent his frustration, his lovesick younger sister turned and fled, tears streaming down her face. She passed the palace attendants in a state of utter disarray. Su Ping quickly ordered everyone to lower their heads and avoid looking directly at her.

Even Su Ping himself dared not glance at the unpredictable new emperor, unsure of what kind of expression might now grace his face.

Thanks to Princess Liuyu’s outburst, the emperor’s mood that night deteriorated significantly. He paced angrily around the imperial garden twice before finally calming down enough to retire to his chambers.

Meanwhile, just outside the gates of the Tai Ping Palace, Empress Consort Fu stood waiting, personally holding a bowl of soup, seemingly having waited for quite some time.

As Su Ping greeted the empress with respect, he overheard the emperor ask, his tone tinged with impatience, “Why have you come at such a late hour?”

It wasn’t surprising that the emperor sounded short-tempered—it was bad timing for the empress to arrive, coinciding with a moment when the emperor was both physically weary and mentally troubled. She was likely to face rejection.

However, Empress Consort Fu was known for her gentle understanding. Even during moments when the emperor’s temper flared, she always managed to greet him with a smile. Now, she replied, “I thought that tonight, after drinking so much during the banquet, Your Majesty would surely suffer from a headache tomorrow. That’s why I prepared this hangover remedy. If Your Majesty doesn’t wish to drink it, I shall take my leave.”

With that, she bowed respectfully to the emperor, making it clear that she intended to depart.

“Wait,” the emperor called out, his tone softening slightly. “Since you’ve come, stay here tonight.”

With those words, he stepped into the Tai Ping Palace.

From the side, Su Ping caught a glimpse of the empress smiling faintly before following the emperor inside the chamber. He couldn’t help but silently admire her: This empress truly understands the emperor.

The Tai Ping Palace remained as ornate and opulent as ever, its golden splendor unchanged from the days of the previous emperor. The only difference was that the air no longer carried the scent of medicine or the aura of death—it felt brighter, somehow.

The emperor drank the hangover remedy personally prepared by the empress and leaned back against the dragon bed, his eyes closed. It was unclear whether he had fallen asleep or not.

Meanwhile, his empress nestled close to him, beautiful and tender.

Setting aside everything else, Fu Rong was undeniably lovely. Though she lacked the striking allure of Shen Xiling, she possessed a softer, more understated beauty. Now pregnant, her figure had grown fuller, enhancing her mature charm and making her all the more captivating.

She rested against Xiao Ziteng, her delicate fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest. Her voice was soft, her breath warm like orchids. “Your Majesty…”

Xiao Ziteng didn’t respond, seemingly asleep.

But Fu Rong paid no heed to whether he answered or not. She knew full well that he was listening.

Propping herself up, she kissed the side of his face and whispered into his ear, “Your Majesty knows how hard you work—it’s lonely at the top, and that’s simply how it is. But Your Majesty should know that I will always be here…”

“I will never burden Your Majesty with worry…”

On the surface, these words might have seemed like ordinary sweet nothings, something any concubine might whisper to the sovereign. But when spoken by Fu Rong, they carried a deeper meaning.

This woman was exceptionally clever. She had already keenly detected something.

For instance… the emperor’s attitude toward the aristocratic families.

Tonight’s banquet with the Han family hadn’t pleased him.

Though the Hans shared his bloodline, they were still part of the nobility—and their status as maternal relatives made them even more dangerous than the Qis, especially since they held military power. Destroying the Qi family didn’t mean elevating other clans. He wanted to consolidate all power firmly in his own hands, for only then could he feel secure.

The Hans…

Currently, Lord Han Shousong was a rule-abiding man who showed no signs of overstepping. However, General Han Shouye’s behavior during the banquet—beating cups and singing—had irritated him. The empress dowager’s indulgence of the Hans only added to his displeasure, making him feel disrespected and threatened.

His empress, astute as ever, had immediately sensed his thoughts. Her earlier words were a clear signal of the Fu family’s stance: they were willing to remain his loyal blade, promising never to betray him.

How intriguing.

Xiao Ziteng smiled, slowly opening his eyes.

Those peach-blossom eyes, once mischievous and carefree in his youth, now radiated luxury and authority. Having ascended the throne, he was now the most exalted man in Jiangzuo—and power, the finest aphrodisiac, made him all the more intoxicating.

Under the gaze of those familiar eyes, Fu Rong momentarily melted.

Ah, how exquisite.

The emperor raised his noble hand, gently tilting her chin to study her face. His smile was deep, and he murmured into her ear, “Rong’er, perhaps you alone will never disappoint me…”

The emperor’s praise was the highest reward for any courtier. Fu Rong felt her heart swell with satisfaction, her joy boundless. She gazed at him, intoxicated, her pregnant body sensitive and easily aroused. Soon, she surrendered to the waves of passion he deliberately stirred within her.

They were so contradictory—seemingly distant yet intimately close.

Fu Rong sighed softly under Xiao Ziteng’s touch.

Enough for now… Things would proceed as planned. She would gain more and more, and once she personally severed that person’s head, no matter how exalted the dragon bed, she would be its sole occupant.

Six days later marked the first seven-day memorial for Madam Qi.

Given her esteemed status, the funeral rites were conducted with proper solemnity. As she had been a devout Buddhist during her lifetime, the seven-day rituals were essential.

The “seven-day” tradition involved performing Buddhist ceremonies every seven days after a person’s death, culminating in forty-nine days. This practice was believed to accumulate merit for the deceased, ensuring their soul avoided hell. The first seven-day ritual was the most significant, featuring an altar, offerings, incense, prostrations, burning paper effigies, and inviting monks to chant sutras.

In the past, whenever the Qi family hosted weddings or funerals, their threshold would be overrun with visitors. But now, with their fortunes uncertain and their downfall looming larger than their recovery, their gates stood deserted. Gone were the days of illustrious guests crowding their halls.

Though the Qi household was quieter now, the situation remained unresolved. To prevent alienating them entirely in case they regained influence, no one dared to offend them outright. Thus, while the heads of the great families refrained from attending personally, they sent members of their collateral branches to pay respects. Consequently, the first seven-day memorial for Madam Qi wasn’t entirely desolate—there was still some activity.

Among the mourners, three individuals stood out.

First was Young Master Han Feichi of the Han family.

Everyone in court knew of the longstanding animosity between General Han and the prime minister, stemming from conflicts over the Battle of Shicheng years ago. With the Qi family’s decline, the general’s smugness was almost palpable, as if he no longer bothered to conceal it. Although Lord Han Shousong led the family, General Han’s influence dominated, and his stance shaped the family’s actions. Recently, the Han family’s descendants had distanced themselves from the Qi clan—except for this young master. Not only did he boldly attend the memorial, but he also knelt alongside the Qi family in mourning attire, offering comfort to Qi Ying’s tearful sister, Han Ruohui.

Second was Princess Liuyu, Xiao Ziyu.

With the Qi family’s fall from grace, her marriage to Qi Ying had become uncertain. According to court speculation, the emperor likely no longer wished for his sister to marry Qi Ying. Yet, the princess’s devotion was unwavering. Defying convention, she publicly came to the Qi residence to pay her respects, her tear-filled eyes fixed unapologetically on Qi Ying. A true example of boldness.

Third was Xu Zhengning, recently returned from the Northern Wei.

This official’s position was particularly delicate. By rights, his covert mission to the north had earned him great merit, especially given the sacrifice of his leg. Logically, he should have been rewarded with promotions and imperial favor, rising swiftly among the court’s elite. However, his close association with Qi Ying had always been evident, and despite the Qi family’s current misfortune, he made no effort to distance himself. Instead, still recovering from severe injuries, he personally attended the memorial. This act was akin to digging his own grave, rendering all his previous achievements meaningless.

The onlookers, having fulfilled their obligations and maintained appearances, quickly took their leave. Lingering too long risked being suspected of aligning with the Qi family—an undesirable outcome.