Accidentally Having a Baby with the Future Emperor - Chapter 69

As usual, Jiang Cheng followed Xi Rong over today.

Jiang Cheng, in truth, disliked such occasions. In gatherings where the scions of noble families clustered together, His Highness was seldom welcome and more often than not treated with cold indifference. All the worse that today’s hostess, the venerable Matriarch Wang, had long been bent on advancing the Prince of Jin’s cause. She was deeply hostile to His Highness and her conduct was always unbearably odious.

Yet, by seniority, His Highness was obliged to address Matriarch Wang as ‘Cousin.’ Even His Majesty usually accorded this elder cousin a measure of courtesy. Were His Highness not to attend, it would inevitably be seized upon as a fault, an opening for reproach.

“Your servant and his two sons pay respects to the Crown Prince and to the two Princes.” Wang Yanshou came forward with his sons, bowing to Xi Rong, the Prince of Wei, and the Prince of Jin.

“Rise.” Xi Rong gave a perfunctory word and then was the first to enter the residence.

Unlike his formidable mother, Matriarch Wang, Wang Yanshou was mild and timid by nature. Why else would he, at his age, have hardly ended up no higher than Vice Minister of Rites?

Wang Yanshou knew well enough that he was useless, a disgrace to his ancestral legacy.

Once, he and Prince Xiao Jingming had been companions of equal standing, feasting and traveling together. In those days, the Wang clan still basked in imperial favor and had not yet declined. He had taken a high seat, while Xiao Jingming had sat at the very end.

When the late emperor chose study companions for his sons, Wang Yanshou was assigned to the most promising Crown Prince Min Huai. Xiao Jingming, despite his brilliance, had been relegated to serving the least favored third prince, a son of a palace maid.

However, now, among the ruling peers of the realm, Xiao Jingming stood as Prince Xiao, second only to the Son of Heaven himself, wielding true power over court and country, while Wang Yanshou remained an insignificant Vice Minister of Rites, obliged not only to bow with trembling caution when they met, but to live at the mercy of the other’s breath.

In truth, the Wang clan’s lingering prestige and place among the Five Great Clans and Seven Noble Houses rested entirely upon Matriarch Wang’s shoulders. It had little to do with him as head of the household.

Even toward Xi Rong, the young Crown Prince infamous for his cruelty and bloodshed, Wang Yanshou was ever fearful. Thus, he quickly led the Prince of Wei and the Prince of Jin inside.

The banquet had not yet formally begun and most guests still lingered in the waterside pavilion, chatting idly.

Following behind His Highness, Jiang Cheng caught sight from afar of a figure at the very center of the throng, a familiar silhouette encircled like the moon among stars.

The Young Prince, robed in silver and crowned with silver, stood at the railing of the pavilion as if enjoying the view, a folded fan in hand, occasionally exchanging a word or a laugh. Merely by standing there, he drew all gazes to himself.

Jiang Cheng’s feelings grew heavy and conflicted. That young gentleman had transformed into the heir of Prince Xiao, clearly no longer of the same world as His Highness. If Jiang Cheng himself felt this way, how much harder must it be for His Highness?

“Your Highness, shall we still go over?” Jiang Cheng asked cautiously.

Xi Rong gave him a curious look. “Why should we not?”

Jiang Cheng dared not press further.

Xi Rong strode straight into the pavilion. At once, the lively murmur died into silence.

One by one, the guests rose to pay respects.

Just then, Matriarch Wang herself appeared, richly dressed, leaning on her staff and supported by two maidservants.

She cast Xi Rong a look of open disdain. “The Crown Prince makes quite the grand display.”

Xi Rong bowed with clasped fists and greeted her, “Cousin.” Lightly, he added, “It is but the etiquette due between ruler and subject. I do not know what Cousin’s remark means. Strictly speaking, when Cousin sees me, she too ought to salute.”

Matriarch Wang gave a sharp, cold snort. “I am well aware His Highness now commands the armies of the southwest, an extraordinary position. But this is the capital, not the frontier. Here, brute force carries no weight. Even His Majesty spares me the formality of kneeling. If Your Highness wishes me to bow, then wait until you are truly enthroned.

“Yet in all the history of the Da’an Dynasty, no unfilial or unrighteous man has ever been heir to the throne. In my view, if Your Highness has the leisure to flaunt authority before me, it would be better spent kneeling once more before the Thousand Autumns Palace to beg His Majesty’s pardon. With the Emperor gravely injured, Your Highness only hastened to line your coffers abroad, delaying your return to attend him. Such a Crown Prince! His Majesty is far too soft, only ordering three days’ kneeling as punishment. Were this my Wang clan, you would have been beaten to death with sticks!”

Jiang Cheng clenched his fists, seething with anger, and was about to speak, only to be silenced by Xi Rong’s glance.

Xi Rong’s tone remained calm, even touched with a faint smile. “In Songzhou, I confiscated the estates of certain clans because they had violated imperial law, enclosing common farmlands and oppressing the people. The evidence was clear, confirmed even by the Court of Judicial Review. Their trial and sentence are but a matter of time. The account books of those clans have already been submitted to the Court.

“Cousin says I enriched myself, where is the proof? If there is none, then it is slander. As a titled First Rank Lady ennobled by imperial decree, Cousin should know the law. And you should know what crime to slander the Crown Prince is. However unworthy I may be, I was appointed heir by the Imperial Emperor himself. To slander me is to slander him. Of course, if Cousin insists on admitting to such words, no matter. The Court of Judicial Review tries thousands of cases each year, what harm in adding one more?”

Matriarch Wang’s face blanched and then flushed dark in turn.

Under Xi Rong’s cold, oppressive gaze, the old matriarch could only force out through gritted teeth, her face dark with displeasure, “I merely repeated some idle gossip I had heard, nothing more. Your Highness need not take every word so seriously.”

“That is good, then.” Xi Rong smiled faintly. “Still, it is said since ancient times that disaster comes from the mouth. Cousin, you must guard your tongue in the future.” With that, he turned and strode away.

Matriarch Wang gripped her cane tightly, her eyes following Xi Rong’s departing figure with growing hatred.

Wang Yanshou came forward and said in a low voice, “Mother, that man is a mad dog who kills without blinking. Why bother crossing words with him and angering yourself for nothing?”

“I was careless,” she admitted coolly after a moment, having quickly regained her composure. “A half-breed with foreign blood in his veins dares to strut before me. I will see how long his arrogance lasts.”

With a smiling face, she soothed the guests, “Come now, everyone, enjoy yourselves. Don’t let this spoil the mood. I’ll have someone bring more fruit,” and then she gave her grandson Wang Hui special instructions, “You must entertain the heir on Grandmother’s behalf.” After that, she withdrew from the waterside pavilion with Wang Yanshou attending her.

The pavilion once again grew lively.

The Prince of Wei sat sharing a table with Cui Xie. He personally refilled Cui Xie’s cup with hot tea and said with a smirk, “Our Crown Prince is truly something. He even dares to offend Matriarch Wang. My elder cousin is notorious for cherishing her dignity. Being humiliated so openly by the Crown Prince, who knows how she will take her revenge?” His tone was laced with gloating, his expression that of a man eager to watch a spectacle.

Cui Xie rubbed the teacup in his hand without responding, his gaze drifting elsewhere.

Soon, the birthday feast began.

Matriarch Wang, now resplendently attired, took her place of honor.

Xi Rong entered with the Prince of Wei and the Prince of Jin to present their gifts.

She accepted the offerings of the Prince of Wei and the Prince of Jin with smiling courtesy, but when it came to Xi Rong, the Crown Prince, her disdain was visible to the naked eye.

Throughout the banquet, the one who received her greatest favor was none other than Xiao Rong, heir of Xiao Royal Residence. Not only did Matriarch Wang have rare delicacies from her own table sent to Xiao Rong, she also had her son Wang Yanshou and her two legitimate grandsons personally toast him.

When Xiao Rong himself approached to offer her birthday respects, she clasped his hand warmly, inquiring after his health with grandmotherly affection, a far cry from the stern matron who had just caused a scene at the pavilion.

“The heir is so learned,” she said earnestly. “You must take the trouble to guide my two useless grandsons more in the future. At Prince Xiao’s birthday last time, I had intended to let them make your acquaintance, to benefit from your brilliance. But alas, you were away studying abroad and I was disappointed for quite some time. At last, my wish is fulfilled today.”

Her voice brimmed with sincerity.

Xiao Rong, without making it obvious, gently withdrew his hand and replied with a mild smile,
“You flatter me, Matriarch. Your grandsons are both outstanding talents well-versed in the classics. The elder writes with elegance, his essays renowned; the younger’s calligraphy is unmatched, and his knowledge of the sages’ works throughout the dynasties is encyclopedic. Zhiwei himself feels ashamed in comparison and hopes to find a chance to seek their instruction.”

Because she had long despised her own son as weak and incompetent, Matriarch Wang had raised Wang Yang and Wang Hui herself, subjecting them to strict discipline. Hearing Xiao Rong praise them so highly, how could she not be pleased? She was equally gratified that Xiao Rong knew how to advance and retreat, giving her face, and not flaunting his status as Prince Xiao’s heir to suppress the Wang clan. At once she laughed, “Do not praise them further, else they’ll be too arrogant to bear.”

With Matriarch Wang setting the tone, Wang Yang and Wang Hui clung closely to Xiao Rong throughout the banquet. Their attentiveness could hardly be called mere courtesy. Other scions of noble houses likewise refused to miss the chance to befriend Prince Xiao’s heir, all vying to speak and toast him.

Xiao Rong, with his sleeves flowing, sat at ease. Claiming poor tolerance for wine, he mostly drank tea in place of liquor, chatting and laughing amiably with the crowd.

Even so, everyone was satisfied.

By contrast, Xi Rong spent nearly the entire banquet drinking alone.

Standing behind him, Jiang Cheng glanced at Xiao Rong, surrounded in a throng of admirers, then back at the solitary Crown Prince quietly refilling his own cup. His feelings were complicated, weighed down with concern for His Highness.

However, the Crown Prince’s expression remained utterly calm from beginning to end. He never once spared so much as a glance in Xiao Rong’s direction, as though he had already forgotten the matter altogether.

“Young Master,” whispered a confidant at Cui Xie’s side after watching the banquet closely, “it truly seems that Prince Xiao’s heir and the Crown Prince are not acquainted at all. All evening, the two had no interaction. Even just now, when the Crown Prince clashed with Matriarch Wang at the pavilion, Prince Xiao’s heir went on chatting with the Prince of Jin as if nothing had happened. And when the Crown Prince entered, he never once looked at the heir. Could it be that the fake Protector in Songzhou was really just someone who happened to resemble Prince Xiao’s heir?”

Cui Xie’s gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing in deep thought. “But can there truly be two people in this world whose faces are so alike?”

Although he had never observed that face up close, the features and bearing of it were ones he could never forget. The face of the heir to Prince Xiao bore an uncanny resemblance to that detestable visage lodged deep within his memory.

His trusted aide, well aware of the Eldest Young Master’s temper, cautiously said, “In this world, nothing is impossible. That said, there are many oddities in this matter. First, Prince Xiao commands countless masters under his banner. If he truly wished to assassinate Prince Yan, why would he send his heir to do it? Second, why would the heir of Prince Xiao, for no apparent reason, forsake his noble station to masquerade as some country boy in Songzhou? Third, if the Crown Prince truly had once risked his life to save the heir, then he ought to cling to him now, seeking to secure the Xiao clan’s backing. How could he possibly remain so indifferent? In my opinion, the one the Crown Prince met in Songzhou was most likely an impostor, hence his shock at the coming-of-age ceremony that day.”

Cui Xie had, of course, considered those strange inconsistencies. Yet that hateful face had stirred his loathing for so long. In the past, he had disdained to care, for the man’s lowly station was beneath his notice. But ever since he had seen Xiao Rong bearing that very same face at the coming-of-age ceremony, a rare and unaccountable irritation had taken root within him.

He had witnessed firsthand how that despicable country wretch could entangle others. If Xiao Rong were the same—No. Impossible. What kind of person was Prince Xiao? The Xiao clan was renowned for its strict upbringing. How could the heir of Prince Xiao lack even the most basic sense of propriety and shame? Absolutely impossible.

“If not, so much the better.”

Once more, Cui Xie forced down the unease provoked by that hateful countenance. After all, the likelihood was vanishingly small.

Halfway through the banquet, Xi Rong excused himself on the pretext of entering the palace to tend to his ill father. The others, Xiao Rong included, remained until the end.

Wang Yanshou personally escorted Xiao Rong to his carriage with both sons in tow.

Inside the carriage, Xiao Rong sat in silence for a time, then summoned Mo Dong and asked, “Why does the Matriarch of the Wang clan harbor such hostility toward the Crown Prince?”

Mo Dong froze, puzzled as to why the Young Prince suddenly raised the matter of the Crown Prince.

However, he reasoned that since the heir was now assisting the Prince of Jin, it was only natural for him to learn more of the imperial princes.

So he answered, “It is said that the Prince of Jin’s mother entered the palace thanks to Matriarch Wang’s recommendation. The Matriarch wholeheartedly wished for the Prince of Jin to ascend, so that his mother might become Empress. But His Majesty, cherishing the bond of hardship shared with the late Empress, long delayed her deposition. Later, when the northern tribes rebelled, the Crown Prince, to show his stance, personally led troops to exterminate the late Empress’s clan and even petitioned the throne requesting to depose her. His Majesty, however, rebuked him harshly. From then on, Matriarch Wang believed the foreign-born ‘enchantress’ had bewitched the Emperor and came to loathe the late Empress and, by extension, despised the Crown Prince as well.”

Xiao Rong frowned and then asked, “And the late Empress… how did she die? Was it truly of illness?”

“Officially, yes. But I heard she hanged herself to protect the Crown Prince.”

Xiao Rong was startled. He pressed on, “And what of the Crown Prince’s dealings with the Cui clan?”

Mo Dong replied, “I am not entirely certain. But I heard that, in his youth, the Crown Prince once sought to apprentice under Cui Daohuan, the Minister of State Affairs, to win the Cui clan’s support and secure his own position. He would visit the Cui household whenever he had leisure, serving Cui Daohuan with the deference of a disciple. Cui Daohuan scolded him without mercy. Once, when the Crown Prince came to visit, a Cui servant was disrespectful to him, which led to a clash with the Crown Prince’s attendants. When Cui Daohuan heard of it, he declared the Crown Prince need never visit again. To placate him, the Crown Prince not only severely punished his own attendants but even knelt before Cui Daohuan to plead for forgiveness. Yet, despite this… Cui Daohuan ultimately sided with the Prince of Wei.

“Not long after, the Crown Prince’s madness flared up. He slaughtered eleven palace servants. Rumors said the Cui clan’s eldest son was present and, in his delirium, the Crown Prince even attempted to commit indecent acts upon him when his efforts to win the Cui clan failed…”

Xiao Rong had long known the rumors of the Crown Prince’s madness. Back then, he had penned the ‘On Demon Yaksha’ partly because he deemed the Crown Prince heartless, attacking his mother’s clan to protect his own station, petitioning for the Empress’s deposition, and partly because of those very rumors. During his years in Songzhou, never once did he connect his Third Brother, ravaged by fire poison, with the deranged Crown Prince.

However, now it seemed clear that all of it was but a carefully wrought scheme by the Cui clan.

Hearing Mo Dong’s account, he sneered outright. “Utter nonsense.”

Mo Dong was taken aback, puzzled why the mention of the Crown Prince and the Cui clan suddenly provoked the Young Prince’s ire.

Having attended the banquet, Xiao Rong had, despite his best efforts to decline, consumed more wine than usual. By the time he returned to the Jade Dragon Terrace, heat and restlessness surged within him once more. He changed into plain robes and stepped outside to catch the breeze.

Ordinarily, such discomfort should have eased. But tonight it worsened. The more wind he took in, the hotter he grew, with nausea rising in his gut.

At last, Xiao Rong could only empty his stomach of wine and food before he felt slightly better.

But only slightly.

By supper time, he still had no appetite.

It had been happening often of late. Seeing the Young Prince’s pallor, Mo Dong said, “Why don’t I summon a physician to examine you, Young Prince?”

“No need.” Xiao Rong refused outright.

Yet Mo Dong’s words planted doubt. Perhaps his body truly was ailing.

He had some rudimentary knowledge of medicine, even knew a little pulse diagnosis. After a moment’s thought, he dismissed Mo Dong, set his own fingers upon his opposite wrist, and prepared to examine himself first, lest he alarm Xiao En, who would surely fuss with endless questions.

Xiao Rong had picked up the art of pulse-taking idly in the northern camps, learning from the old army doctor.

Gifted from childhood, he mastered whatever he studied with ease. Where medical apprentices struggled half a day to recall a single prescription, he could recite an entire list after one glance, word for word. The old doctor was utterly fond of him, praising him as a promising seedling for the medical path, and wholeheartedly wished to take him on as a disciple.

With this talent, he lived in the soldiers’ infirmary like a fish in water.

At first, he only helped sort herbs and tend to the wounded. Later, finding the art of pulse-taking amusing, he began imitating the old doctor’s techniques and fumbled his way through with surprising skill. For a time, he even grew obsessed with the practice, often pulling soldiers aside to examine them while observing, listening, questioning, and palpating, carelessly diagnosing as he pleased. Over time, he truly did grasp a few tricks.

For small ailments such as headaches or fevers, he could even prescribe a simple remedy.

Seeing that he truly possessed some spark of talent, the old doctor entrusted him with a precious handwritten notebook of pulse records, urging him to study well. But alas, his heart was never set on medicine and in the end, he disappointed the old doctor’s earnest hopes.

Later, after moving to the mountains, whenever he felt unwell, he would still refer to medical texts, diagnosing his own pulse.

Of course, complicated illnesses were beyond his ability, but simple ones he could detect. The pulse of a healthy person was generally calm and moderate, neither floating nor sinking, rhythmic and steady; it was called the ‘balanced pulse.’

As for pathological pulses, although there were many kinds, they all bore distinct traits, whether floating, sunken, sluggish, or rough, so long as one stilled the mind and felt carefully, some clue could always be discerned.

For example, his present stomach discomfort, caused by an improper diet, should normally show a pulse that was sunken and feeble, or slow and faint.

Xiao Rong placed his fingers on the cun, chi, guan points, concentrating closely. |17|

To his surprise, his pulse was not sunken nor weak, but rather… smooth and flowing.