103. Alas, how easily the hearts of old friends change.

The Retired Emperor had long suspected that it was my mother who had corresponded with Great Xiang back then, intending to betray the sovereign and the nation. But look at this letter—it is a secret dispatch from the Great Xiang Mingrui Emperor to General Lin Songhe, clearly mentioning two names: my mother, Pei Xuewei, and Duke Cheng Jingyun of Chengguo.

Emperor Yongyi stared motionless at the unfurled silk in his hands, as if petrified.

“Your Majesty, have you read carefully? It states that on the fourth month of the sixth year of the Yonghe era, the Mingrui Emperor ordered General Lin Songhe to secretly conspire against Cheng Jingyun, aiming to block the northern army within Lingtang Pass and decisively strike General Feihong’s forces,” she said clearly, each word falling before Emperor Yongyi’s eyes like a solemn decree.

“Why? I have treated Cheng Jingyun well! Why would he betray me? Betray the Great Yi!” Emperor Yongyi murmured, as if pleading, tears welling up.

“Because as long as my mother held the northern border, the Great Xiang army could never pass Lingtang Pass. The Mingrui Emperor wanted his forces to advance, while Cheng Jingyun… wanted the life of Prince Mu. Cheng Jingyun never intended to betray the nation; he merely struck a deal with the Great Xiang Emperor, leaking my mother’s defensive plans to Lin Songhe. The Great Xiang Emperor promised that once the northern command changed hands, he would immediately execute Prince Mu Baili Xi. If my mother fell, Cheng Jingyun could, with Your Majesty’s support, seize control of the northern army.”

Emperor Yongyi shuddered violently. He had never imagined this. How many things was Cheng Jingyun hiding from him?

“Do you think Cheng Jingyun is truly loyal? You wholeheartedly supported him as commander of the northern army—what do you think he thought? When my mother was brutally slain in Chelan City, do you think he didn’t know why? Do you think he didn’t hate you all these years? He wanted Prince Mu dead to win my mother’s favor, but he never expected you had poisoned her, causing her to die suddenly on the battlefield. Both of you hid the truth from each other. Yes, neither of you wanted my mother to die, but she was indeed killed by your schemes! You—the Retired Emperor, Cheng Jingyun, the Great Xiang Mingrui Emperor, Lin Songhe, Zhang Wei—you are all murderers!” Pei Jinghong’s eyes were bloodshot; the hatred buried deep within her heart for years finally erupted before her greatest enemy, her rage unabated.

The Emperor slumped in his chair, vacant-eyed, clutching the piece of silk tightly, a single clear tear streaming down his cheek.

“It’s too soon for Your Majesty to cry now. As far as I know, the Southern Frontier army has been pacified. The King of Shunan not only captured the entire Baiyue royal clan but also took a fugitive from Great Xiang—Lin Songhe. Your Majesty must have heard his name.” After the sudden death of the Great Xiang Mingrui Emperor, Prince Mu supported the young heir’s ascension and began regency. Fearing exposure, Lin Songhe used a clever ruse to escape. Prince Mu searched for years and finally caught wind of Lin Songhe’s whereabouts in the south.

During this southern uprising, Fu Lanchen decreed the King of Shunan to bring Lin Songhe north with him.

“What exactly do you intend, Pei Zhaojin? Will you leave me no way out?” Emperor Yongyi, having heard Lin Songhe’s impending return north, roughly guessed their plan.

Pei Jinghong gave a cold smile and exhaled deeply. “What do I want? Naturally, I want justice to be served and the Pei family’s name restored.” She fixed her gaze on the Emperor’s clouded eyes, gritting her teeth. “I want Your Majesty to personally write an edict of self-accusation, detailing the causes and consequences of how the Pei family was persecuted, and proclaim it to the world.”

“How dare you! Pei Zhaojin, you threaten me?!” Emperor Yongyi roared, leaping from his seat, coughing violently from his erratic breath, utterly disheveled.

Pei Jinghong smiled faintly. “Your Majesty prides yourself as a wise ruler, but during your decades ruling Great Yi, what have you done besides scheming and persecuting the loyal? Any minister loyal but slandered, trusted but doubted—you sit in your hall, covering your ears like a thief, unable to distinguish friend from foe. The self-accusation you must write would fill countless scrolls!”

Emperor Yongyi glared at her, unwilling to yield. “If I refuse, what will you do? What of the Emperor? Does he still care for the royal dignity? Making his own father write a self-accusation—does he not fear the annals will brand him unfilial and disloyal?” He stood to command his men to summon Fu Lanchen.

“Father fears not, so why should I?” Fu Lanchen’s voice cut through, finishing the Emperor’s sentence.

“Fu Zhan, you dare?” the Emperor shouted his name in fury. “I am your father! Do you not fear the ancestors’ wrath for such impiety?”

Fu Lanchen entered the hall, clad in a black dragon robe, his gaze captivating, dimming the very candlelight.

“Father, the Fu ancestors would first reprimand you, then me. Who among us can escape? One unjustly killed loyal ministers, the other commits great treason. Father unkind, son unfilial—we have long strayed from the founding ideals of our great-grand Emperor.”

If anyone could silence Emperor Yongyi, it was Fu Lanchen.

“Traitor! Traitor!” The Emperor’s voice cracked as he repeated the curse, but Fu Lanchen’s gaze remained ironclad.

“I advise you, Father, to write the edict. Do not wait until Cheng Jingyun stands before the court, accusing you openly—then the imperial reputation will truly be torn to shreds.” Fu Lanchen spoke, then left the hall, immediately ordering palace eunuchs to summon several imperial physicians to Mingguang Palace, fearing the Retired Emperor’s health might fail before the edict was completed.

“Rebel! All rebels! Cheng Jingyun is a rebel, Pei Xuewei was too. No—your entire Pei family are rebels!” Emperor Yongyi, unable to confront his son, vented his rage on Pei Jinghong.

“Your Majesty, without the so-called rebels you speak of, you might never have ascended the throne of Deqing Hall. Even those rebels were your consorts for years and bore the Prince of Chu. When you wrongfully killed my mother, you were not at ease—you even changed the Prince’s name from ‘Hong’ to ‘Xun.’ All these years, have you never dreamed of my aunt, Consort Shu Fei, even a little?”

“She was summoned into the palace in her prime by your edict, bore your child, and died just past thirty. How could your heart be at peace? You protected Consort Nangong despite her many faults—what did Consort Shu Fei do wrong? What sins has my Pei family committed?”

Emperor Yongyi lifted his eyes coldly. “Is your Pei family truly blameless? Pei Zhaojin is a woman posing as a man—is that not deceit against the sovereign? Treason is the equivalent of rebellion. Have I wronged your family?”

Pei Jinghong smiled coldly. “Your Majesty is mistaken. Pei Jinghong, second daughter of the Marquis Wujing’s Pei household, was acknowledged by your own mouth.”

When Pei Jinghong left Mingguang Palace, she saw Fu Lanchen’s solitary figure and was momentarily captivated, forgetting to speak.

Fu Lanchen glanced back and smiled faintly. “Why so silent?”

She stared at his face, the smile three parts brightness, seven parts sorrow. Emperor Yongyi’s last words echoed in her mind: “Pei Zhaojin, I may write the self-accusation, but can you and he return to what once was? He is my son—no matter how harsh, unkind, or unworthy I am, he is still my flesh and blood.” A sudden sadness overwhelmed her, though she could not say why.

Only she and Fu Xun remained of the Pei family. After their exoneration, Fu Xun could continue as Prince of Chu. But what of her? Where would she go?

She had once considered going to Chelan City, where her mother had guarded all her life and died. There, she could live out her days in peace, far from court intrigue.

She also thought of retiring to one of the many water towns in Jiangdong, to care for the Xu family’s grandmother and father, watch Xu Xiao Wu and Xu Xiao Qi’s children grow.

And Fu Lanchen? Would he remain alone in this cold palace, ruling vast lands but enduring endless solitude?

Fu Lanchen came to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist. She panicked. “I…” Before she could finish, two palace maids hurried over, kneeling and weeping. “Your Majesty, Madam, please come quickly! Our lady is dying.” They were from Rouyi Palace. What had happened to Lu Zhirou?

“What happened to Consort Xian? She was well this morning. How could she be dying now?” Pei Jinghong panicked, rushing toward Rouyi Palace, Fu Lanchen bewildered and following, unaware of the circumstances.

When they arrived, several imperial physicians were gathered, desperately treating Lu Zhirou. Pei Jinghong dared not disturb them, clutching Lu Zhirou’s personal maid Jin Xiu and asking, “Consort Xian was well this morning. What happened?”

Jin Xiu sobbed, nearly breathless. “Madam, I don’t know. Half an hour ago, I accompanied Consort Xian to Jinghong Hall to find you. Sister Xi Yue said you had gone to see the Retired Emperor, so we waited. After a while, palace servants brought a food box—your medicinal meal—with a bottle of rose honey beside it. Our lady saw the rose honey, found it novel, and on a whim had me dilute and serve a small bowl. But… soon after returning to the hall, she suffered unbearable abdominal pain, blood dripping from her mouth and nostrils. The physicians are still trying to save her.” Jin Xiu trembled on the ground.

Pei Jinghong looked up at Fu Lanchen, stunned, nearly falling, saved by his quick hands.

“Azhao!” She steadied herself by his wrist, then called for Qingyu. “You must investigate thoroughly. What happened? Was the rose honey tampered with?” Qingyu hesitated, but said nothing, walking out.

Jin Xiu did not know, but Qingyu did—the rose honey was personally brewed by Cheng Hewei. Because the medicinal meal was bitter, she had specially brewed rose honey and regularly sent it to Jinghong Hall.

Lu Zhirou’s accidental drinking of Pei Jinghong’s rose honey meant the poisoner’s target was Pei Jinghong.

Cheng Hewei personally brewed the honey and was close to Pei Jinghong, so palace staff rarely tested it for poison. Many had drunk it before without incident.

Why this day, why did Lu Zhirou drink a bowl and fall ill?

Pei Jinghong dared not think further. A chill ran through her. She instinctively clung to Fu Lanchen, seeking warmth.

On May 13th, the King of Shunan led his army north to join Shen Yu’s thirty thousand troops, successfully quelling the Huai rebellion. News of victory came, but Fu Lanchen’s heart remained heavy, devoid of joy.

Lu Zhirou had died despite the physicians’ efforts, leaving no final words. Pei Jinghong held her cold body through the night, unwilling to let go.

Fu Lanchen did not know how to comfort her.