[As everyone knows, Xie Boting and Empress Wen were a young married couple, deeply devoted to each other. When Xie Boting was away on campaigns, Empress Wen was responsible for guarding the city and stabilizing the morale of the army.]
[When the army was surrounded, Xie Boting and Empress Wen were separated. Even when his own life was in danger, he fought his way back to find Empress Wen before breaking through the encirclement.]
[The two had weathered the hardships of building their enterprise together and walked through the chaos of war side by side. They were no longer just husband and wife—they were more like comrades-in-arms who could trust each other with their backs. This was truly a mutual devotion.]
Speaking of the bond between the founding emperor and empress of Yan Guo, Mumu praised them lavishly, and even the Emperor's face rarely showed a trace of tenderness.
He and the Empress had weathered decades of storms together; their feelings for each other could no longer be simply described as that of husband and wife.
With both his parents gone, the Empress was his closest kin.
That a spirit creature could acknowledge the depth of his and the Empress's bond filled the Emperor with great pride.
He stroked his beard and said, "See? The Empress and I have such a good relationship that even a spirit creature is moved by it."
"Naturally," Second Prince flattered. "Father and Mother have shared decades of trials and tribulations together, yet their feelings remain as strong as ever. We children can only look on with envy. If I and my consort could be like Father and Mother, I would be content."
Second Prince's envious expression made the Emperor even more pleased, and he stroked his beard a little faster.
"Then don't even think about it. A virtuous wife like your mother is rare in this world."
The Emperor directly rebuffed Second Prince, giving him no chance to draw a comparison.
Otherwise, if he were to acknowledge that his second daughter-in-law resembled the Empress, word would soon spread through the court that he favored Second Prince as Crown Prince.
Second Prince's smile faltered for a moment before returning to normal. "Father speaks truly. But even if my consort could capture but a fraction of Mother's grace, it would still be a blessing to me."
The flattery was smooth, and the Emperor nodded. "Mm. Have your wife learn from the Empress. It will serve her well for a lifetime."
Second Prince: "Yes, yes. I shall instruct her to come to the palace often and listen to Mother's teachings."
Because the conversation centered on the Empress, the Emperor and Second Prince were chatting pleasantly. Eighth Prince, seated behind them, flickered his eyes and lowered his head, refusing to look at them.
[However, no matter how good their relationship was, one issue had always stood between them that could not be ignored: heirs.]
Mumu's voice sounded again, and this time the topic made the Emperor's smile freeze, the atmosphere in the hall solidifying along with it.
Yet the female voice on the other end of the video remained oblivious and continued.
[Xie Boting and Empress Wen had a daughter named Princess Anyang, their only legitimate daughter, born in the fifth year of Shouguang. At that time, the Liang Dynasty was on the verge of collapse, and Xie Boting was unwilling to remain loyal to such an incompetent and decadent court, so he simply led his men to join the rebel army. Thus, Princess Anyang was forced to wander from place to place with her parents from the moment she was born.]
[But compared to her ill-fated younger brother, wandering might not have been so bad.]
[In the four years after Princess Anyang's birth, Empress Wen had not conceived again. It wasn't until the second year of Tianbao that she became pregnant once more. The physician said it was a boy, and Xie Boting was overjoyed—he felt he would finally have an heir!]
Mumu's vivid narration almost instantly pulled Xie Boting's memories back to the second year of Tianbao, when he had just learned his wife was pregnant again and was so happy he forgot to eat.
Unfortunately, that joy was cut short three months later by a surprise enemy attack.
Xie Boting was away at the time. Empress Wen had to manage the overall situation, look after the concubines and illegitimate sons in the household, and lead people to evade the enemy's pursuit—all at once. She was forced to miscarry.
And because she did not rest properly after the miscarriage, her body was damaged, and she could never bear children again.
This became an eternal pain in the Emperor's heart. Even twenty years later, thinking back on it, he still could not forgive himself.
If only he hadn't fallen for the enemy's decoy tactic. If only he hadn't had concubines and illegitimate sons.
The recollection ended, and the Emperor's eyes carried a trace of pain. The harmonious atmosphere between him and Second Prince vanished without a trace.
Second Prince's smile also turned strained.
In the second year of Tianbao, he was only three years old. What fault was his?
[Some might say that by then, his eldest and second sons had already been born—he already had heirs.]
[That's different.]
[In Xie Boting's heart, only his first wife Empress Wen was his true wife, and only the legitimate son born of Empress Wen was the son he looked forward to. All others were born of concubines and had no right to be his successor.]
Mumu's narration remained light and cheerful, but upon hearing these words, the princes' hearts sank and their faces turned pale. Some of the younger ones, whose cultivation was not yet refined, even looked up to gauge the Emperor's reaction.
The Emperor showed no reaction.
But since he did not refute it, that meant it was true.
So even if they excelled in every way, in their father's heart, they could never measure up to the title of legitimate son.
The princes' feelings were complicated, and some even harbored the thought, "Thank goodness the Empress miscarried back then."
Otherwise, what business would they have today?
【Perhaps because of the regret of having no legitimate son, unable to establish his own child with Empress Wen as Crown Prince, Xie Boting had always felt uneasy at heart. He nitpicked at his dozen or so sons, feeling none of them were fit to be Crown Prince. He kept picking and choosing until his sons had all grown up, yet the Eastern Palace remained without an heir. Who could possibly remain indifferent to that?】
"Hmph, I think it's your own ambitions that have run wild," the Emperor said.
The princes lowered their heads and silently endured the scolding, none daring to defend themselves, lest they reveal whose ambitions were the wildest.
【The most active among them were naturally the eldest and second princes.】
The Emperor's sharp gaze shot toward the First Prince and Second Prince. The two named instantly tensed up, their faces flustered.
Surely they hadn't done something foolish?
The brothers instinctively exchanged a glance, then both turned their heads away in mutual disdain.
With this little distraction, their nervousness eased somewhat.
It didn't matter. Even if they'd been reckless, they couldn't outdo that Yanwudi. Even if their father wanted to punish someone, it would be him. What did they have to fear?
With someone else at the bottom, the two felt greatly reassured and no longer cared what Mumu might reveal about them next.
They were princes! Even if they'd made mistakes, so what?
Could their father possibly kill them?
As long as it wasn't the grave crime of colluding with the enemy or betraying the country, at worst they'd be confined to their mansions to reflect on their mistakes. When the new year festivals came around, they could send someone to the palace to plead for mercy, get released, and all would be well.
【The eldest and second princes, being the senior ones, both believed themselves more suited for the Crown Prince position than their younger brothers, so they made the most noise. But their younger brothers were no obedient little lambs—don't think that just because they had the advantage of age, they could make the others shut up and fall in line.】
To this, the First Prince responded with a smile, like the gentlest elder brother, indulging his younger brothers' naivety and willfulness.
The Second Prince was more direct. At an angle the Emperor couldn't see, he turned and glared at the younger brothers behind him.
But the princes were no longer children—a glare wasn't enough to intimidate them.
The Third Prince disdainfully looked away. A prince of the first rank, and yet so undignified—utterly lacking in propriety.
The Fourth Prince, smiling cheerfully, wasn't scared at all. Instead, he leaned in and asked, "What are you looking at, Second Brother? Your expression looks like you want to devour your brothers. Have you figured out who Yanwudi is?"
"Oh dear, then why don't you quickly tell Father and have the person dragged out? That would save everyone from being on edge."
"How would I know? That spirit creature didn't say!" the Second Prince hastily defended himself.
Seeing the Emperor's attention turn his way, he immediately sat up straight, not daring to make any more sneaky threatening gestures toward his younger brothers.
"Hmph!"
The Emperor glanced at the Second and Fourth Princes. He seemed to lack the mood to bother scolding them, yet also found their bickering too childish—especially in front of so many nobles and imperial relatives. It was an embarrassment to the family.
The Emperor narrowed his eyes and said, "Enough. Don't I know the two of you well enough?"
The Fourth Prince coughed and lowered his head guiltily.
"All of you, listen quietly. If you cause any more trouble, the two of you can go kneel at the gates and listen!"
Second Prince & Fourth Prince, lowering their heads, murmured: "Yes."
【The other princes felt that since they were all princes, all born of concubines, who was more noble than whom? Talk of primogeniture? Look from the Zhou Dynasty onward—how many eldest legitimate sons had smoothly inherited the throne? Didn't they all have to fight for it themselves? Whoever seized it, it was theirs.】
"Cough, cough, cough…"
After such a blunt speech, the hall was filled with a chorus of coughing.
The Duke of Lu, using his wine cup as cover, whispered to the Duke of Chen.
"This girl really dares to speak. Look how she's scared the First Prince and the others."
"Shh…" The Duke of Chen, cautious as always, raised his index finger to his lips, signaling the Duke of Lu to be quiet.
"Shut your mouth! If His Majesty hears you, I don't want to kneel in punishment with you."
At such a sensitive time, don't go joining the commotion!
The Duke of Lu, realizing belatedly, made a zipping gesture with his hand and sat back down.
Since ancient times, struggles for the throne had always been bloody affairs—brother against brother, father against son, swords drawn and turned into bitter enemies, were common occurrences.
Everyone born into the imperial family knew in their hearts that the throne had to be fought for.
Yet when they governed the realm, they had to advocate that gentlemen harbor benevolence in their hearts and propriety in their conduct, hoping to keep their subjects as docile as lambs. Naturally, they would never speak openly of contending for the throne.
Those who fought hardest for the throne, once they ascended it, would invariably speak of propriety and benevolence at every turn, fashioning themselves as pure as little white flowers.
This was what they were accustomed to doing.
Who could have imagined that one day, someone would recklessly tear away that fig leaf, exposing the brutal reality of fathers and sons, brothers and brothers, fighting each other to the open air? How could they adapt?
It was practically like streaking naked.
"What's all this coughing about? Isn't what she said correct? Isn't the throne something you seize? Even my throne—didn't I seize it from Emperor Tianbao?"
Of everyone in the room, the Emperor was the one who accepted this statement most readily. He even boldly spoke up, as if eager to raise both hands in support of Mumu's words.
The crowd was speechless.
Your Majesty, of course you can take it in stride—after all, you didn't seize this throne from your own kin. Contending for the realm is the act of a hero; who would dare criticize that?
But for them, it was different. Fighting their own blood brothers for the throne and losing—when future historians set down their brushes, they would be forever nailed to the pillar of shame as rebels. Just thinking about it was enough to sour one's spirits.
What was even more deadly was that the victor was a man called a tyrant.
If you lost a power struggle against someone else, the worst outcome was house arrest. But against this one, chances were the entire household would go meet their ancestors.
A shadow of gloom immediately settled over the princes' hearts.
Author's note:
None