Since that was the case…
“Husband.” Song Yao knew how to seize the opportunity, calling out to him again.
Nangong Yi: “Hmm?”
His smile deepened, radiating extreme pleasure without concealing his likes and dislikes. Holding the beauty by her waist, his eyes were filled with tenderness:
“Whatever requests Furen has, feel free to state them.”
Song Yao clicked her tongue inwardly, marveling at how easily the Crown Prince could be appeased. Of course, she understood the reason behind his pliability.
Genuine feelings exchanged for genuine feelings, she reached out to touch the man’s stomach: “This humble servant wishes to say that husband should go have his meal.”
From the Emperor to his officials, everyone in Da Yuan attended Zaochao on an empty stomach. Nangong Yi had come straight to her after court, and by now he must be starving.
“Will Furen accompany me?” Nangong Yi was indeed hungry. Although he had visited his mother, his heart had been yearning to return like an arrow shot from a bowstring, so he hadn’t eaten at his mother’s palace.
Song Yao naturally agreed.
Time flew swiftly. Three days later, Nangong Zhe died.
He was assassinated while returning to the city during the early Shen hour, struck by multiple arrows. The death of a prince by assassins’ hands in broad daylight enraged the Emperor, who ordered a thorough investigation.
The court was immediately thrown into panic. The entire Wangdu City was placed under strict martial law, with heavily armed patrols visible everywhere. A curfew was imposed for several consecutive days.
When the news reached the Eastern Palace, Song Yao was playing chess with Nangong Yi under the shade of the Crape Myrtle Tree. The messenger was none other than Eunuch Liu from the Emperor’s side.
After informing the couple of Nangong Zhe’s death, Eunuch Liu’s wrinkled old face showed complex emotions, as if he wanted to say more but hesitated.
Not daring to speak further, he merely relayed the Emperor’s words: “Your Highness, His Majesty’s intention is to request Your Highness accompany this old servant to the palace. The other princes have also been summoned by His Majesty.”
Early Shen hour, struck by multiple arrows.
Combined with what Nangong Yi had told her when they returned from hunting to the Imperial Villa that day, Song Yao understood better than anyone whose hand was behind Nangong Zhe’s death.
After all, this involved the Emperor, and Song Yao felt somewhat worried.
As Nangong Yi was about to leave with Eunuch Liu, she subtly grasped the man’s hand, inquiring with concern as if completely unaware of the situation.
“This humble servant wonders when Your Highness might return to the residence, so I can prepare some refreshments while waiting.”
Nangong Yi drew her into his embrace, gently patting Song Yao’s slender back. His warm embrace provided all the security his wife desired.
Separating, his stern face showed composure, his voice calm and no different from usual:
“The matter concerning our sixth brother is of great importance. I’m afraid I’ll return late. Yao Yao shouldn’t wait for me, rest early.”
Soon, Song Yao and all the household staff watched as Nangong Yi departed in the palace carriage sent to fetch him.
The carriage gradually disappeared into the distance.
Inside the carriage, Nangong Yi opened his hand, looking at the half-piece of white incense resting in his palm as his lips curved into a smile, his heart softening.
He recognized this incense, named Cloud Dissipates and Mist Scatters – something priceless and rarely available. Whether ignited by fire or soaked in water, it could kill without leaving traces.
People say anxiety leads to confusion, but her having this intention made him very happy.
The Emperor had indeed summoned all the princes and princesses. Nangong Yi was the last to arrive. Upon seeing him, everyone’s expressions varied.
“Greetings to the Crown Prince.”
Regardless of their inner thoughts, they all paid respectful homage on the surface. What remained unchanged was that everyone held awe and fear toward Nangong Yi, their eldest royal brother.
And for most, fear outweighed respect.
After today, such awe would become even more profound.
Having entered the palace in haste, Nangong Yi was wearing casual attire. Though not dressed in the python-patterned robe symbolizing the Crown Prince, the intimidating pressure he exuded had not diminished but rather increased.
After all, a nation’s Crown Prince must possess a benevolent heart, while no one would demand as much from a prince who had guarded the frontier for years and led armies to slay countless enemies—naturally, he would carry fewer shackles and constraints.
A short while later, the Emperor arrived.
His expression was one the princes and princesses had never seen before—unmistakably grim. He did not immediately demand answers nor speak, merely sitting high upon the Dragon Throne, his gaze sweeping over each of his children’s faces one by one, finally settling on Nangong Yi. In his eyes, it was impossible to tell whether it was anger, disappointment, or the grief of a father who had lost a child.
One hour later.
All the princes and princesses gradually left the palace, leaving only Nangong Yi, the Crown Prince, behind. The Emperor dismissed the palace maids, eunuchs, and guards, leaving the vast hall occupied solely by father and son.
There was no need to conceal what was already clear. The Emperor could not hide his anguish: “Why did you resort to such cruelty against Zhe’er? He is also your brother!”
After the others had departed, the Emperor had a palace maid bring tea. Nangong Yi sat upright in his seat, holding the teacup but making no move to drink.
“I avoided Sixth Brother’s schemes—that was my capability. Sixth Brother failed to evade mine—that was his incompetence. Victory to the king, defeat to the bandit—such is the way.”
“Merely repaying him in his own coin, Father. Why must you be so angered?”
The Emperor, having once led troops to conquer the realm, could not bring himself to urge his son to repay kindness for malice: “Haven’t you already killed the woman by Zhe’er’s side? Was that not enough to quell your anger?”
Nangong Yi did not answer the question, nor did he deny his involvement in the matter. Setting down the still-warm teacup on the table, he deployed his pre-prepared rhetoric to parry with his father.
It was common knowledge throughout Da Yuan that the Emperor and Empress doted on their eldest son, and this was no empty statement.
The Emperor and Empress had been a young couple deeply in love, and the Emperor had even pledged to the Empress a lifetime of mutual devotion. Though he later failed to keep that promise, it was enough to show the depth of their affection at the time.
Nangong Yi was born at the peak of their love, their first child.
Moreover, Nangong Yi had been exceptionally gifted since childhood, adept in court affairs as an adult, and had achieved illustrious military exploits at the frontier, expanding territories and enhancing Da Yuan’s prestige while intimidating the border regions.
What parent would not show some favoritism toward such a child?
But fratricide had ultimately struck the Emperor’s sore spot. He could turn a blind eye to his sons’ minor squabbles and petty conflicts in private—after all, such things were unavoidable in an imperial family.
However, when lives were at stake, he could not let it pass.
Yet he did not impose severe punishment. The Emperor knew full well where the drugged Black Bear at the hunting grounds that day had come from, but afterward, he did not hold anyone accountable.
If he were to investigate thoroughly, regardless of the scale, Nangong Zhe would not escape the grave charge of plotting against the Crown Prince. The Emperor, feeling at fault himself, had to weigh the matter of Nangong Zhe’s death carefully, both publicly and privately.
By the time Nangong Yi left the palace, the sky had turned completely dark. Dark clouds obscured the moon, casting a heavy, somber gloom.
The bluestone path out of the palace was wide, and though palace lanterns lined both sides, the view remained oppressive and chilling.
Yet, it did not affect Nangong Yi in the slightest.
He boarded the carriage he had arrived in to return to his residence, his expression indifferent. He remained this way until the carriage arrived at the Eastern Palace and came to a stop at its entrance.
“Your Highness, we have arrived,” the coachman announced. Upon receiving a response, he approached the carriage, bowed respectfully, and lifted the curtain.
Nangong Yi opened his eyes that had been closed in restful meditation throughout the journey. When he saw the figure standing at the mansion’s entrance, his expression finally shifted.
“Husband.”
Song Yao stood holding a bright, delicate lantern, with Ru Shuang and Granny Rong following behind her. As she called out, she descended the steps, her radiant and captivating face unable to conceal her joy.
Nangong Yi stepped down from the carriage and strode forward, opening his arms to firmly catch and embrace the person rushing toward him.