I Really Like the Male Supporting Character (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 21
Gu Xiuyan knelt inside the emperor’s bedchamber, but his head wasn’t lowered in repentance. Instead, he looked up defiantly and stared coldly at the emperor seated above him.
His expression was one of haughty disdain. Despite his upward gaze, his demeanor made him seem as if he was looking down on the emperor, and the ambition and rebellion in his eyes were nearly palpable.
“You… you… you rebellious child!” the emperor sputtered while pointing at him and struggling to catch his breath.
He clutched his chest. His greying hair fell against his forehead, and his face was lined with new wrinkles. In a single night, he looked as if he had aged ten years.
“Imperial Father, are you angry, or are you afraid?” Gu Xiuyan taunted. A cold smirk appeared on his lips. “Are you scared now, after everything you’ve done? If it hadn’t been for my uncle telling me, I would never have known the real cause of my mother’s death!”
When Song Renzhou returned to the capital, he shared a dark secret, which had been hidden for decades, with Gu Xiuyan.
Why couldn’t the emperor tolerate the Song family? Why had the Song family been so reluctant to relinquish its military power?
It was all because of Empress Song Muning. She hadn’t died from illness, as everyone believed, but had instead been murdered by the emperor in conspiracy with his favored concubine!
Before her death, Song Muning wrote a letter to her brother, explaining that she had been poisoned with a slow-acting toxin over the years.
Song Renzhou eventually learned of her death. The emperor realized that Song Renzhou held a lot of military power and dared not act against the Song family. However, he still severed all ties with them.
In the years that followed, Song Renzhou held onto control of the Northwest Army, not only to protect his family but also to exact revenge for his sister’s murder. His military strength became the thorn in the emperor’s side, a persistent threat that kept him in constant fear and restlessness.
Song Renzhou knew that if he gave up his military power, the emperor would spare no mercy for his family.
Most importantly, right now, the crown prince needed the Song family’s support. Without it, he would be swiftly deposed, and the emperor would make his favored seventh prince the heir.
Song Renzhou had recounted all of this to Gu Xiuyan. He, the brave and heroic general of the Northwest Army, even broke down in tears as he described his sister’s tragic death.
Gu Xiuyan believed him—how could he not, when this uncle had always treated him like a son? As for the emperor, he had never embraced him—he’d never shown him an ounce of fatherly affection.
Besides, he had no choice but to trust the Song family, as it was his only support. With the ambitious seventh prince as his rival, he had no other option but to forsake his father and turn to his maternal family.
Many claimed that Gu Xiuyan was reckless and foolish, and that he was unable to see the political landscape. However, Gu Xiuyan knew exactly what his objective was. To win over the Song family, he married his cousin, abandoned Su Baiwei, and sent his son to be raised by his cousin. Every sacrifice had been in service of his goal.
Right now, to fulfill that goal, he had no options but to believe what his uncle had told him and stand with the Song family until the bitter end.
In the past few years, the emperor’s disappointment in him had only grown, while the seventh prince had only risen in popularity. He’d won praise not only in the court but also among the people, who lauded him as wise and heroic.
In their battle for influence against the seventh prince’s faction, the crown prince’s faction had already lost completely.
If it had not been for the Song family’s officials and the military power that had kept the emperor at bay, Gu Xiuyan would likely have been stripped of his title by now.
However, now that his ally had returned to the capital, Gu Xiuyan felt the confidence to strike back.
He stood and approached the emperor, who glared at him in fury. In a low voice, he said, “Imperial Father, you must be eager to depose me. I know you prepared the edict two weeks ago. I wonder whose name is on it—mine or my dear seventh brother’s?”
The emperor’s breaths came in shallow gasps. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and he could no longer respond to Gu Xiuyan.
“Not that it matters,” Gu Xiuyan continued. “I wonder why you changed your mind today, why you held back from issuing the order to depose me. Perhaps someone reminded you that there are 10,000 troops from the Northwest Army stationed just outside the capital. Are you afraid, Father? Are you afraid they’ll storm the palace? My uncle brought them back with him, and I’ve waited in patience for this day.”
A trace of smug satisfaction crept onto Gu Xiuyan’s face. “The Imperial Guard is only 5,000 troops strong. If those 10,000 troops approach the capital, who could stop me? Not even you, Imperial Father—no, especially you.”
Earlier, Gu Xiuyan had ordered the emperor’s attendants out of the chamber, so only the two of them remained in the vast hall.
Watching the emperor’s helpless struggle, Gu Xiuyan felt a dark satisfaction rising within him.
He took a scroll from his sleeve—a decree in the emperor’s handwriting, authorizing the crown prince to oversee state affairs in his stead. He moved closer and took the imperial seal from the emperor’s waist before pressing it onto the decree with meticulous calm.
The emperor felt a tightness in his chest that made it hard for him to breathe. He helplessly watched what Gu Xiuyan was doing but had no strength to stop him.
That ultimate power was almost within his grasp, Gu Xiuyan thought contentedly.
After stamping the decree, Gu Xiuyan turned on his heel and strode out. His sleeves swept through the air as he left the feeble emperor behind without looking back.
The political climate shifted overnight. Ah Luo had just heard that the emperor was about to depose the crown prince, only to learn the next day that the emperor had fallen gravely ill and appointed the crown prince as his regent.
Even someone as politically inexperienced as Ah Luo could sense that something was off.
How could the emperor’s attitude change so suddenly? And how had he become so ill overnight? Rumors claimed he was now bedridden and was seemingly waiting for death.
No one knew exactly what had happened, but one thing was clear: the crown prince was highly suspect.
However, without any concrete evidence and with the decree being in the emperor’s handwriting and stamped with the emperor’s personal seal, no one dared question it.
In a single day, the political landscape had changed, and the capital was thrown into turmoil.
The crown prince became the de facto ruler of the empire. He openly wielded the emperor’s power and handled official matters. His first order as regent was to confine the seventh prince.
The reason he gave was that the Seventh Prince had been disrespectful and caused the emperor’s illness—a flimsy excuse that no one really believed.
However, perhaps because he saw his position as secure, Gu Xiuyan didn’t care about others’ opinions. He confined the seventh prince, then placed other princes under house arrest, and finally went after officials who had previously opposed him.
One by one, officials loyal to the seventh prince were dismissed or imprisoned. The capital was gripped with fear and tension.
Gu Xiuyan was a ruthless and domineering ruler. He spared no mercy for those who opposed him.
In one instance, an elderly official tried to remonstrate with him in the throne room; the official accused him of cruelty and suggested that he was responsible for the emperor’s sudden illness. In response, Gu Xiuyan personally beheaded the man on the spot.
Such a cruel action silenced everyone else in the court that day.
Yet his critics were far from giving in, and despite his current authority, Gu Xiuyan was still only the regent. He could not fully consolidate his power, which emboldened his opponents to begin plotting in secret.
The seventh prince discovered that Song Renzhou had brought a contingent of 10,000 troops to the outskirts of the capital and gathered his own forces to discuss his plans forward.
The marquis and Wenren Jin were also invited to the gathering. While Ah Luo was playing with Suisui in the garden, her daughter’s kite flew over the garden wall. Suisui had told Qing Yuan to fetch it, but then a strange maid approached Ah Luo and said, “My lady, someone is here to see you.”
In confusion, Ah Luo asked, “Who is it?”
The maid lowered her head and said, “I believe it’s someone from the Zhao residence.”
The Zhao family? Zhao Qiuchen’s family? If Zhao Qiuchen wanted to see her, shouldn’t she have sent someone from the seventh prince’s residence? Or perhaps she wanted to avoid drawing attention?
As Ah Luo considered this possibility, she lightly told the maid, “Find out what they want.”
But no sooner had she spoken than the maid, who had been keeping her head down, swiftly stepped forward and struck her on the side of her neck.
The world went dark. As she lost consciousness, Ah Luo’s last thought was, ‘Oh, no. Ah Yu will lose his mind when he finds out!’
When she awoke, the first face she saw was a familiar one. As she feared, it was none other than that deluded man, Gu Xiuyan.
His first words to her were, “Yan’er, rest here well. From this moment forward, I am your husband.”
Ah Luo could no longer hold back her fury. Images of Wenren Jin’s devastation at her disappearance filled her mind. Last time, it had taken her days to reassure him. Now, to put him through this again—how heartbroken and despairing he must be right now.
Driven by frustration, she shouted, “Do you not understand human speech? I already have a husband. My husband’s name is Wenren Jin, and I love him! I’ll only ever love him! Why are you pursuing me when there are countless other women who would gladly accept you!?”
She genuinely couldn’t understand why he clung to her when they had had so little contact. In the past, Su Luoyan had always adhered strictly to court etiquette in his presence and had never openly shown affection to him. Why could he not seem to forget her, even after all these times?
Or was this simply the nature of men? Was it that men only wanted what they couldn’t have?
Hearing her words, Gu Xiuyan’s expression darkened, but he softened his tone and replied patiently, “Yan’er, stop being difficult. I know your personality—you only love him because he is your husband. However, we were meant to be together. Once I ascend to the throne, I’ll make you a noble consort, and we’ll be a family. You’ll bear my children, and you’ll love me again.”
He didn’t wait for Ah Luo to respond, perhaps because he knew that her response would displease him. He just stood up and left the room without saying anything else or listening to her response.
Ah Luo was left in stunned silence. She was baffled by his twisted logic. She stared at his back in shock, and it took her a long time to finally return to her senses.
As she processed her shock, she heard a small, familiar voice calling, and upon turning, she saw that Suisui had also been brought there.
Despite her anxiety, Ah Luo forced herself to remain calm.
“Mommy, was that strange man the one who brought us here?” Suisui asked while clinging to her mother in fear.
“Suisui, don’t be afraid. Mommy will protect you,” Ah Luo reassured her daughter while formulating an escape plan. She couldn’t just wait here helplessly; she had to find a way out.
They were kept in an isolated palace within the imperial compound called the Luoxian Palace. Judging by the sound of the water clock and other noises, she deduced that they were in the northeastern corner of the palace, far from the throne hall.
That day, two silent maids attended her, and they were apparently forbidden from speaking with her. They didn’t watch her very strictly, perhaps because they felt that a woman and a small child couldn’t possibly escape the heavily guarded palace, anyway.
After two days of observing, Ah Luo realized that escaping with Suisui would be no easy task.
The palace had two maids who managed their daily needs, two others who handled cleaning, and another who emptied the night pots each day. It also had four tall guards posted at the outer gate.
Inside the palace, she could move freely, and no one followed her closely, but the moment she approached the main gate, the guards would approach her and prevent her from leaving.