Everyone Wants To Harm Me - Chapter 80

The two of us returned to the side chamber next to the secret room to discuss matters. We removed a few officials whom Prince Xin considered useless but whom I believed still had potential, and drafted a list of eleven names.

Prince Xin’s mobility had proven much stronger than I had expected. In just one and a half months, despite being suppressed and besieged by the Emperor, his power had expanded several times over. He had lost Minister Pei and Li Minghai, but had drawn in Commander Fang, the Deputy Director of the Secretariat, the General of the Right Valiant Guard, and others. He had also planted new personnel within the palace. Given time, he might even have stood toe to toe with the Third Prince’s faction.

“It’s all your credit, Sister Yao,” Prince Xin looked at me and said, “You are truly a lucky star sent to me by the heavens.”

This compliment made me feel a bit awkward. I looked down at the list on the table and asked, “Do you want to kill someone with a borrowed knife—add a few of their people to the list?”

“No,” Prince Xin immediately rejected the idea. “If there is someone among them whom the Emperor trusts, he will suspect you.”

“But we could choose ones who are already at odds with the Emperor…”

“I said no, and I mean it.” His tone suddenly hardened. “I can afford to abandon or sacrifice anyone else—but not you. Not even the slightest risk.”

I was briefly stunned. “Then I’ll follow Your Highness’s lead.”

Prince Xin placed his hand on my shoulder and reminded me, “I won’t be able to keep you updated regularly in the future. Do not act on your own in front of the Emperor or disobey him. You’re no match for him. He may forgive you once, but he won’t necessarily do it again. Do you understand?”

This felt eerily similar to what Yu Chongrui had said.

I wasn’t used to being touched, so I took a half step back to avoid it, and Prince Xin’s hand fell away.

Still feeling uneasy, I took two more steps to the side and said, “Your Highness is now married and has a household of your own. There’s something I must remind you of.”

Prince Xin withdrew his hand and replied, “Please, go on.”

“The Emperor plans to kill you after you’ve sired an heir, once the imperial bloodline has been secured.”

Prince Xin was silent for a moment before suddenly smiling and saying, “Sister Yao, why are you telling me this now? If I don’t get married, I won’t have an heir?”

His comment was somewhat frivolous, which made me frown. “Your Highness, please be more careful.”

Prince Xin lowered his voice, looked at me, and said, “Sister Yao, don’t worry. I know my limits, and I won’t disappoint you.”

But this was a matter of life and death—if he handled it poorly, it wouldn’t be a matter of letting me down, but of losing everything: power, life, and even his head.

The noise outside gradually died down, signaling it was time to dismiss the guests. I asked Prince Xin, “Isn’t it a problem for Your Highness to hide here and not go out to see off the guests?”

Prince Xin replied, “It is reasonable for me to enter the bridal chamber early to accompany the princess. The steward will take care of seeing off the guests.”

If the princess didn’t see the groom for a long time, wouldn’t she become suspicious and send someone to inquire? If she found him outside but didn’t see him, wouldn’t it raise questions?

However, this was their private matter, so I didn’t ask further. Prince Xin would handle it himself.

I thought of the Third Prince and was uncertain whether to tell him what I had seen. But I feared that if I did, he would associate me with Yu Chongrui, so I simply reminded him, “Just now, among the guests, I think I saw relatives of the Sixth Prince. They had ill intentions and were trying to provoke Your Highness and the Third Prince into fighting. Be careful, Your Highness.”

Prince Xin wasn’t concerned. “I could guess that without you saying it. If they didn’t try to provoke us, how could they have a chance? I know everyone in his family, they can’t cause any real trouble. Let them stir things up—it’ll just provide me with a shield against open attacks.”

Prince Xin didn’t want to touch the Sixth Prince’s relatives, and the Third Prince had Yu Chongrui and Princess Yongjia to cover for him.

I thought this matter would pass quietly. But the next day, after returning to the palace, it was revealed by the imperial physician.

The imperial physician, an ordinary doctor in the Imperial Medical Bureau, had been going through his routine check on the Third Prince. The Third Prince had complained of discomfort after a night of drunkenness. The doctor, ever cautious, found it unusual that an eleven-year-old child had been drunk. He examined the Third Prince carefully and discovered that his pulse was unstable, his skin had numerous scratches, and there were traces of poison in his feces and urine. He concluded that the Third Prince had been given Jinshi medicine and immediately reported it to the Emperor.

The Emperor, naturally furious, ordered a full investigation. The incident had occurred in Prince Xin’s mansion, and Prince Xin was the first to be blamed. He went to the palace to ask for forgiveness.

After the Third Prince had fallen asleep, it had been Yu Chongrui who sent him back. He, too, was summoned to the palace for questioning. However, Princess Yongjia testified that she and Yu Chongrui had met at the riverside during the banquet. Seeing the Third Prince acting oddly and alone, she had sent him to the backyard to rest.

The case was quickly solved. Although the Third Prince couldn’t recall what had happened after the drug took effect, he had a good memory when sober. He recalled everything he had eaten and drunk and listed them in detail, including the sugar pill, which raised suspicions.

Following the Third Prince’s description, the boy who had delivered the sugar pills was quickly found. The Emperor sent people to check his home, but the boy had taken too many sugar pills himself and was still unconscious. This was irrefutable evidence of the crime.

In an effort to save his family, the Sixth Prince’s grandfather handed over this cousin, the mastermind, and executed his own relative for the greater good. The cousin was convicted of attempting to murder the heir to the throne and was exiled three thousand miles away. All members of the grandfather’s family in the court were implicated, fined, demoted, and the Sixth Prince’s only remaining support was destroyed.

By the time I learned about it, the case had already been tried. The Third Prince came to Yanning Palace and told me everything.

The Sixth Prince’s relatives had plotted to murder the Third Prince and frame Prince Xin. The entire story was clear and obvious. It should have ended there, but for some reason, the Third Prince’s faction, led by Grand Tutor Lin, pointed the finger at Yu Chongrui. They accused him of knowing that the Third Prince had been poisoned but concealing the evidence and covering up the crime. They claimed he deserved death.

What were they thinking? Shouldn’t they have been grateful to him for protecting the Third Prince? If they insisted that his concealment of the truth was motivated by ulterior motives, then wouldn’t that have implicated Princess Chang as well?

I had seen many of these people direct their swords at Yu Chongrui at the Zhongyuan Banquet, but I hadn’t expected that the struggle for political power could cause them to ignore right and wrong.

After recounting everything, the Third Prince smugly added, “Actually, I remember the last person I saw before I passed out—it was you. But I don’t know why Prime Minister Yu said he found me by the river, so I just kept quiet.”

I asked him, “Why didn’t you speak up? Honestly, I regret saving you last time. Should’ve thrown you back in the river to feed the fish.”

“You wouldn’t,” he replied, raising his chin like a little adult. “I grew up in the palace, and power struggles are common. This is a matter between us men, and I didn’t want to involve you.”

When the little brat said this, he truly did resemble a future crown prince. Unfortunately, no matter how he pretended, I could only think of how ridiculous he had looked when he lost his mind under the drug’s effects.

—Is this what Yu Chongrui sees every time he looks at me?

That really complicated things for him.

Three days later was Lan Yue’s return banquet. I didn’t attend.

It seemed that my family had tacitly agreed that, like my aunt, I would be a member of the palace from then on. They no longer invited me to trivial matters but sent someone to inform me and bring me wedding cakes.

The person who brought the gifts was Brother Zhongshu, which made me happier than the gifts themselves. He was on duty at the Guanglu Temple, and since the Emperor held banquets during major festivals, we might have had the chance to see each other more often.

Brother Zhongshu told me that my grandfather was in good health, and the fall hadn’t been serious. Instead, he had gotten drunk, sat in the cool breeze by the river, and caught a cold, resulting in a headache the next day. He had only briefly attended the banquet and had been bedridden ever since.

“Don’t worry, the Duke will be fine,” he comforted me. “I know that the Duke is the closest to you in the family, and you’re most worried about him.”

Brother Zhongshu still didn’t know about the grudge between my grandfather and me. To him, we were still the kind and filial grandparents and grandchildren with deep feelings. He had no idea that my grandfather had hit me, nor did he know the hidden evils our family had concealed.

He was already of marriageable age. What would happen if he married and had a daughter in the future?

I asked him, “What do you think of the young lady you met at Prince Xin’s mansion, Brother Zhongshu?”

He immediately blushed and said awkwardly, “You mean Miss Bian? She didn’t say a word, but she looked like a gentle and quiet good girl. I… I’d better not delay her.”

I didn’t think I’d seen the surname “Bian” among court officials. “Are they from Luoyang?”

“No, they’re from Yanzhou, and they’re related to my stepmother’s family. They happened to come to Beijing this time and heard about our family’s happy event, so they came to congratulate us.”

Yanzhou was far away, their family was mediocre, and they likely intended to get close to the Duke’s Mansion. The daughter was introverted and docile. Our family’s standard for choosing a daughter-in-law hadn’t changed.

I said politely to Brother Zhongshu, “This young lady may not be suitable to marry into our family.”

He nodded and said, “Yes, yes, I think so too. I still prefer… lively and active girls with independent ideas.” He glanced at me, lowered his head, and silently added, “Like you.”

I couldn’t say the rest of the words.

Like me, Brother Zhongshu had lost his mother early. His stepmother mostly ignored him and probably never taught him those twisted ideas about sacrificing daughters for family gain. He had always been close to me, one of the rare few in our family who didn’t look down on girls. I had to find a chance to tell him the truth. I hadn’t forgotten the search for Ningning either. Now that I was in the palace, it was harder to act—I needed someone in the family to help from outside.

Brother Zhongshu was an outsider, after all. After delivering the gifts and saying a few words, he left. Before leaving, he said to me, “Yaoyao, I know you’re a little bored staying in the palace alone, but don’t worry. Next month is the Qianqiu Festival, the Emperor will definitely host a banquet for all the ministers, and I’ll come to the palace to see you again. The Duke, uncles, brothers, the wives of the family, and Lan Yuee… the princess too. You’ll get to see everyone again. And after that there’s Laba, New Year, Lantern Festival—plenty of chances to reunite.”

I smiled and nodded. “Alright.”

I couldn’t tell him that, among all the people in the family, he was the only one I truly wanted to see. For his own good, I should probably see him less often.

The Qianqiu Festival—the Emperor’s birthday. A reminder that he had grown another year older. Probably not a happy day.