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...He had once desired her.
On an ordinary night, she was by his side as usual, helping him review memorials. The Guanfeng Hall was warm year-round, and her thin clothing easily outlined her graceful figure.
He was momentarily distracted. Even though he was sure he didn’t love her and they had indeed spent years together in the palace, he thought they should be companions in misery, perhaps comforting each other in fleeting moments. He grabbed her hand; the delicate softness ignited desires long dormant. He pushed her onto the couch forcefully, tearing at her clothes like a greedy thief. But she struggled desperately, even daring to push him to the ground.
“Does Your Majesty forget what you promised me—”
Her eyes were filled with anger and caution, tinged with fear and disgust—disgust? How dare she feel disgust? She was already his empress. Did she still hope to reunite with another man?
Suddenly, he became angry too. His frail body made it impossible for him to subdue even a weak woman. Overcome with dizziness, he felt more hatred for his own helplessness than ever before.
—He was the Son of Heaven!
The most exalted person on earth!
He should rule over all seas and command all people! Not be rejected by his own empress whom he had married lawfully!
The profound humiliation made him blush. At that moment, he clearly realized she was comparing him to Yizhi—he was utterly defeated, reduced to nothing. Despite bearing the name of sovereign, he paled in comparison to his own minister. Perhaps at that time, he hated Yizhi, but what he hated most was himself, forced to live under the shadow of others day after day.
“I remember... I promised to treat you with the respect due to a minister.”
Thus, he could only awkwardly salvage his shattered dignity, apologizing unreasonably to his rightful “wife.”
“...I lost my composure.”
She left hurriedly, as if he were some monstrous flood beast. The last bit of warmth in his heart was thus extinguished—he truly had no luck in life. Every person he met was cold and ungrateful, every event bleak and merciless. In the end, he was always alone, with only endless illness and humiliation for company.
He gradually fell silent, his once-living heart turning cold and hard like stone. He watched his vitality drain away daily without feeling pain from his helplessness. Perhaps death would be a release for him—no longer struggling daily to prove to the world that he was a divinely ordained sage emperor, but simply meeting his foolish and dissolute father again in the underworld after death.
But...
...he still had Xi’er.
The Fang family’s current loyalty to Zhou stemmed partly from their reputation constraints and partly from Yizhi’s friendship with him. However, Xi’er had no ties to the Fangs. Who could ensure that Fang Xianting would remain loyal to his orphaned heir after his death? Moreover, he had a private affair with the Empress... If they engaged in illicit acts and had children after his demise...
...Would they harbor evil intentions, seize the throne, and humiliate or even kill his Xi’er?
He was a doomed man, indifferent to imperial ambitions, but his Xi’er was innocent. So young, how could he be controlled by a pair of adulterers and lose his life because of them?
He must plan for him!
Calculate for him!
Fight for him!
...But who could he rely on?
The Fang family of Yingchuan stood out uniquely; no one in the court could rival them. He couldn’t deny Fang Yizhi a regent position. The only way to balance power was through numbers—Prince Wei Bi, known for his overbearing nature and close ties with Zhongshu Ling Fan Yu Cheng, strongly opposed the southern relocation of the capital. Appointing them as regents would counterbalance the Song family’s influence as external relatives. Even Yizhi would have to consider the royal family’s face and yield to Prince Wei.
The real contingency plan for Xi’er, however... was Chen Meng.
Initially, the humble origins of the Crown Prince’s tutor seemed inconspicuous, yet he was the most trusted person by his side. He trusted him not because of superior character compared to the Fangs but because his poverty left him without support. Reality and circumstances were more reliable than anything else. With no one behind him, Chen Meng owed everything to the sovereign’s patronage. Life or death rested in his hands, ensuring loyalty to Xi’er and willingness to sacrifice for him.
He quietly supported Chen Meng for a long time. Tales of scholarly success amidst hardship were easily celebrated, spreading quickly among scholars. He wanted Chen Meng to gradually replace the Song family in the hearts of the common folk, even creating a near-mythical persona to overshadow the Fang family’s fame.
“You will do many things on my behalf…”
Only when critically ill did he secretly summon Chen Meng to his bedside, revealing the unspeakable secrets between Fang Xianting and the Empress.
“I want you to protect the Crown Prince… protect… Zhou…”
Chen Meng was extremely alarmed, never expecting such shocking secrets between the Emperor and Empress, and the Fang family’s power terrified him. Even willing to risk his life to protect the Crown Prince...
“Success and failure both come from Xiao He. Yizhi has his fatal flaw…”
The long-ailing emperor’s appearance was gaunt, his eyes behind the dragon curtain both lucid and confused.
“Remember, the Fang family of Yingchuan’s terror doesn’t stem from their military power… nor from half the purple robes…”
“…It’s the hearts of the people.”
“The reverence of the whole world for the name ‘Fang’.”
His voice was low and profound.
“To destroy him… you must destroy these hearts.”
Some words needn’t be fully spoken. By this point, Chen Meng understood the Emperor’s true intent—since ancient times, winning the people meant gaining the world. Since Taqing, years of warfare had made Fang Xianting appear as the savior surpassing the emperor. Public sentiment could sway mountains and seas. If Fang Xianting rebelled, no one could stop him.
Destroying these sentiments… was not an overnight task.
His tyranny, arrogance, and autocracy might be heavy accusations, but they wouldn’t necessarily shake the disdainful masses. Scandals involving men and women, though not major offenses, were particularly relished by common folk. Fang Xianting and the Empress’s affair was ironclad evidence of his disloyalty, a weapon to tarnish the Fang family’s spotless image. He just needed to choose the right moment to reveal it, reviving past accusations against Fang, crucially setting him against public sentiment, the only way to topple this unshakeable mountain.
“But… don’t rush…”
The emperor’s voice grew softer, his emaciated hand reaching out from the decaying dragon curtain, as if trying to grasp something tightly.
“The court still needs someone to fend off external threats...”
“If he can sincerely assist Xi’er in reviving the dynasty, then... keep him...”
Even today, Chen Meng couldn’t discern whether the late emperor’s tone was cold or wistful—did he mean to “keep him” merely for Fang’s contributions to the state, or... was there a trace of nostalgia for decades of youthful camaraderie?
Fortunately, these didn’t matter. The so-called “imperial family’s lack of affection” wasn’t because emperors were born with hearts of stone, but because the stakes were too high, often involving life and death affecting the entire realm. He had to be ruthless, and as his minister, his mission was simply to serve the sovereign wholeheartedly.
“...Your Highness need not panic. The late emperor indeed entrusted this matter long ago.”
In Jixian Hall, eerie and chilling, only the faint flicker of firelight brought some life. Perhaps all deep palaces were the same—the remnants of former Liang, as desolate and hollow as the Guanfeng Hall where the late emperor entrusted his orphan.
Wei Bi was more shocked, and just then, he heard light footsteps behind him. Turning, he faced Wang Mu, half-hidden in shadows, startling him into a gasp, hair standing on end.
“You... you...”
He pointed at Wang Mu, speechless. The latter remained calm, leisurely stepping past him to Chen Meng’s side. Their shadows merged seamlessly.
“The late emperor worried incessantly before his death, fearing the young emperor would be harmed and the state endangered...”
Wang Mu’s smile vanished, no longer the affable figure he usually presented.
“This servant was ordered to stay close to the Emperor, vigilantly watching Fuqing Hall without negligence... Now that Your Highness is aware of these secrets, I needn’t conceal them further.”
Wei Bi’s heart raced faster, unable to believe that Chen Meng and Wang Mu, usually the most silent figures, bore the most perilous responsibilities in the court. Shocked and fearful, he wondered if he had unknowingly violated any taboos. Regaining composure, he asked, “Are there also eunuchs’ eyes and ears in Fuqing Hall? What about the Empress Dowager…”
Chaohua Xixiu, originally selected by the late emperor to serve the empress, now obeyed Wang Mu, reporting every detail of the Empress Dowager’s words and actions. The Empress Dowager might be aware, especially retreating alone to the plum grove pavilion at night, guarded by soldiers, making it difficult to approach or spy.
“The Empress Dowager and the Marquis may have overstepped... That’s all I’ll say. The rest is unspeakable.”
Wang Mu hinted enough, his meaning causing Wei Bi’s complexion to change—he feared Fang Xianting and the Song woman colluding to seize his Wei family’s throne. Anxiously, he urged, “Then what are we waiting for! We must find a way to eliminate them soon!—The Emperor is in danger! They will harm him!”
Echoes reverberated through Jixian Hall, like thunderclouds suppressing lightning bolts. Chen Meng sighed deeply; the candle in his hand was nearly burned out. Faint dust floated beneath the bookshelves, which he could choose to brush away or ignore. Minor matters were decided by him, just as some people’s lives... rested in his seemingly feeble, powerless hands.
“Let’s wait a little longer…”
He spoke softly, his expression aged and contemplative.
“Heaven’s timing, geographical advantage, and human harmony—all three are indispensable for great undertakings.”
“Moreover, the northern campaign is imminent. The Emperor still needs someone to reclaim lost territories... He’s useful, and internal reforms require the Empress Dowager’s full efforts.”
“Once these matters are resolved... it won’t be too late to act.”
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