Who Cares About Being the Matriarch? My Rebellious Husband Secured Me a Noble Rank! - Chapter 69

On the eighth day of the eighth month, the Crown Prince returned to Yanjing in triumph.

It should have been a day of nationwide celebration, yet the capital’s atmosphere was heavy and grim.

Just a few days earlier, alarming news had spread—on his way back, the Crown Prince had been ambushed, suffering grave injuries, his life hanging by a thread.

Thus, the grand welcome ceremony the people had prepared was hastily cancelled.

Shen Tangning stood by the railing, gazing at Zhuque Avenue where armored soldiers marched like a mighty dragon, stretching far into the distance. But the Crown Prince was not among them.

Her heart loosened ever so slightly. Her cousin was intelligent since childhood—surely, he had understood her warning and acted swiftly.

…

“Where is the Crown Prince?”

A man in a dragon robe strode into the hall, his voice sharp, his presence commanding.

“Your Majesty,” the eunuchs knelt to greet him. “The imperial physicians are tending to His Highness inside.”

Emperor Chongde narrowed his eyes, a shadow flickering in their depths. “I heard his injuries are severe? I will see for myself.”

He entered the inner hall. Attendants dropped to their knees, the physicians scrambled up. Only then did the Emperor catch sight of the frail youth lying upon the couch.

Yan Huai, his eldest son, resembled his mother. His face was as gentle as jade, his conduct beyond reproach. Even his strict tutor, known for sparing no one, praised him unstintingly.

The world lauded him as flawless as fine jade—born, it seemed, to belong to the imperial clan.

But now, his complexion was deathly pale, his cheeks sunken, his figure wan and feeble, like a man already half a step into the grave.

Yan Huai struggled to rise and pay his respects. His voice was faint, barely a breath. “This son greets Father Emperor…”

He nearly toppled over. Startled, Emperor Chongde rushed forward to steady him. His brows furrowed. “With such wounds, forget the formalities. How could you be injured so heavily?”

Yan Huai lowered his head, shame clouding his gentle gaze. “It is this son’s incompetence…”

The Emperor’s suspicion lingered. His tone sharpened as he turned on the physicians. “Why are his wounds so dire? What use is the Imperial Infirmary if this is all you can do?”

The physicians dropped to their knees, trembling. “Your Majesty, His Highness has been poisoned! The toxin is rare and vicious. This humble servant has yet to identify the cure…”

“Poisoned?” The Emperor stiffened, shock flashing across his face.

Crown Prince’s deputy general, Cheng Ce, stepped forward and bowed. “Reporting to Your Majesty: eager to reach the capital sooner, His Highness traveled ahead with a small guard, leaving the heavy cavalry behind. Who would have thought an ambush awaited?

“The enemy fought with reckless abandon, resolved to die with us. His Highness had not yet recovered from his old wounds. In the melee, he was struck by a poisoned arrow.”

Yan Huai coughed weakly, cutting him off. “Enough, Cheng Ce! It was my negligence…”

His voice broke. Violent coughing wracked him, his body trembling. He covered his mouth with a handkerchief, but not quickly enough—Emperor Chongde glimpsed a flash of crimson.

His heart jolted. He laid his son down gently, voice heavy. “Rest and recover. Once you heal, I will see your merits rewarded.”

But Yan Huai’s brows knit. Struggling as though with himself, he blurted out, resolute: “Father, your son is guilty. I cannot accept rewards.”

The Emperor froze, eyes narrowing. “And what do you mean by that?”

Yan Huai let out a bitter smile. “During the battle of Pingcheng, the enemy held the civilians hostage. General Wei proposed fire attack to wipe them all out. Because of my weakness, I refused.”

Wei Mingyuan was a ruthless man, unscrupulous in pursuit of victory. His plan was to slaughter the city, swift and efficient.

But Yan Huai had opposed him.

Pingcheng, once Daqing’s territory, had been seized by the southern barbarians over a decade ago.

Wei Mingyuan believed its people had long since been assimilated, no longer subjects of Daqing. But Yan Huai had disagreed.

He rejected Wei’s proposal, choosing another path. It cost him two extra months, but in the end, he retook the city.

The Emperor’s eyes dimmed, shadows flickering within.

He had already received memorials about this matter—reports lying on his desk. But to hear the Crown Prince confess it himself…

His face remained stony, though at length he sighed. “As heir, the gravest fault is misplaced mercy. You… what should I do with you?”

Yan Huai’s gaze was steadfast, unrepentant. “Father Emperor, had we chosen such cruelty, it would strip us of our humanity. Even if we had won the war, how would the people see us then?”

He lowered his eyes. “But I did err. Please punish me.”

The Emperor’s face grew solemn. “This matter I will discuss with my ministers. You focus on healing. Leave the rest.”

Yan Huai lifted his eyes, boyish devotion in his gaze. “You will not punish me?”

The Emperor snorted coldly. “Punishment there will be. This time, merit and fault will cancel out. Let this be your lesson!”

For the heir to be merciful—in some ways, it was a blessing.

If he were truly ruthless… that would be the true cause for fear.

The Emperor turned on the physicians. “Use every means at your disposal to heal him. If not, bring me your heads!”

The physicians trembled and kowtowed.

“Your son bids Father Emperor farewell.” When the Emperor departed, Yan Huai closed his eyes, the faint smile slipping away from his face.

Not long after, a eunuch came to announce:

“Your Highness, Her Majesty the Empress is here.”

A smile returned to Yan Huai’s lips. He coughed softly. “Quickly, invite Mother in.”

The phoenix carriage had just stopped. A regal woman stepped down, her beauty still resplendent, her bearing noble, though her phoenix eyes held a trace of icy majesty. Normally serene, her steps quickened in urgency.

“Xingjian, what have the physicians said?”

But when she saw her son’s condition, her breath caught. Her fingers clenched. “All of you, leave us!”

Once the attendants withdrew, the Empress’s eyes reddened. She approached, hand trembling in midair. “My son… how could this be?”

Yan Huai suppressed his coughs, speaking softly. “Mother, do not grieve. Listen—let me explain.”

“This… was all thanks to Cousin Tangning.”

The Empress’s expression shifted sharply. Her brows knit. “You mean… it was Tangning who warned you?”

Yan Huai nodded. “She did not say it outright. She only told me a story.”

A story of two tigers—father and son—locked in a battle over territory, fighting until one lay dead.

When he heard it, a chill had run down his back.

For Tangning to send word across such a distance, it could not have been only to tell a tale.

At first, he had refused to believe his father would harbor resentment toward him. But Tangning was never one to speak without purpose.

So he had weighed, and he had prepared.

And today, his father’s probing look had confirmed the truth he least wished to face.

His father… was no longer satisfied with him.

His father had even begun to wish him dead.