That night, Yuzhen, the National Preceptor, only left the palace after being examined by the Imperial Physician.
The Tianyou Emperor hardly slept well all night, pondering what excuse he could use to send the child away without hurting him.
This contemplation lasted until afternoon, with both breakfast and lunch barely touched.
A young eunuch guarding outside the Imperial Bedchamber hurried in to report that the Empress was waiting outside.
The Tianyou Emperor's face wasn't presentable at the moment, and coupled with his genuine irritation, he had Feng Lu directly refuse her. But within less than half an hour, Wen Guifei arrived with several other consorts from various palaces, gathering outside the Sweet Spring Palace.
They clamored to see His Majesty.
The Emperor had missed the morning court session for two days, hadn't received any ministers, and hadn't set foot in the rear palace at all. Combined with his busy schedule for the better part of the previous month, His Majesty hadn't visited the rear palace or favored any consorts for a full month.
With the recent frequent summons of Imperial Physicians, how could the consorts not be anxious?
Hearing this morning that His Majesty had again summoned the Imperial Physician last night, they feared being a step too slow in expressing their urgent concern for the Dragon Body.
Thus, they gathered and came together.
The Tianyou Emperor was already suffering from a headache. Showing face to the Empress didn't mean he would tolerate other consorts causing a disturbance. He directly sent Feng Zongguan out to reprimand everyone and deduct half a month's stipend.
This move further fueled speculation among the consorts, and the evening's events quickly reached the ministers' ears.
Many ministers also found the situation suspicious. The Emperor was diligent—it was impossible for him to skip court for several days without reason. Adding to Wen Guifei's recent complaints, the hot-tempered Duke Wen couldn't hold back. The next day, he led a group of Western Path generals directly into the palace to request an audience with His Majesty.
Upon hearing the news, Chancellor Jiang quickly arrived with his own men and confronted Duke Wen right at the entrance of the Sweet Spring Palace.
Chancellor Jiang angrily scolded Duke Wen: "Since His Majesty ascended the throne, he has been diligent day after day. Now that he's merely resting for a few days, is it not excessive for Duke Wen to make such a grand scene, bringing a large crowd to the Sweet Spring Palace to demand an audience?"
"Excessive, my foot!" Duke Wen showed him no respect at all, bellowing in his loud voice: "Haven't you spent time in the Western Path grasslands before? In the past, we used to go straight into the King's tent to find His Majesty! What's wrong with having a few more people and being a bit louder? We're concerned about His Majesty!" Though he spoke the official language, his voice carried a distinct Western Path accent.
It was terribly awkward.
The Western Path nobles behind Duke Wen chimed in: "Exactly! His Majesty is diligent every day. Suddenly skipping the morning court session for two days in a row is what's abnormal! You Han civil officials, stop dawdling and delaying our visit to see His Majesty!"
The Han ministers, furious, retorted: "You… you barbarians! The Son of Heaven's dignity cannot be violated! This is within the Central Plains. Great Chu has been established for years and is a land that upholds ritual and education. As ministers of Great Chu, you must follow the rules! Without His Majesty's summons, you cannot rashly enter the palace!"
"You foul-mouthed turtle spawn! Who are you calling barbarians?!" Duke Wen's eyes widened like a tiger's, and he shoved the official who had stepped forward: "If it weren't for us 'barbarians,' you'd probably all be dead in the Three Kings' Rebellion! Our King is benevolent, letting you keep your official posts, and now you dare bark like dogs and lecture us?!"
It was their Western Path forces who had fought their way into the Central Plains, and now they had to tuck their tails and follow Han systems—already frustrating enough.
Now, seizing this pretext, Duke Wen just wanted to vent his anger by thoroughly beating someone up!
"What do you mean by letting us continue serving as officials!" The Han minister retorted indignantly: "His Majesty is originally Princess Roushan's flesh and blood, a descendant of the previous dynasty's imperial lineage. Allowing you barbarians to remain in Yujing is already an extraordinary act of grace!"
And yet you still presume to call yourselves nobles of the Western Path all day long. Have you no shame?
The long-standing conflict between the two ethnic groups erupted again in the exchange of insults.
As the situation threatened to spiral out of control, Chancellor Jiang sternly called out Duke Wen by his full name: "Balang Temur Wentusu, that's enough!"
"Enough of your damned nonsense!" Duke Wen punched Chancellor Jiang in the face.
Chancellor Jiang staggered back several steps, colliding with his companions. Furious, he pointed at Duke Wen and scolded: "You… you're utterly unreasonable…"
Duke Wen and his faction had never seen anyone curse so elegantly, and they burst into collective laughter.
Even cultured officials will bite when pushed to desperation.
Just as both sides were about to come to blows, the door to the Imperial Bedchamber of Sweet Spring Palace suddenly opened. Feng Zongguan approached, swept his gaze over the crowd, and said calmly: "His Majesty requests your presence inside."
The crowd fell silent for a moment, immediately releasing each other's sleeves they had grabbed. They straightened their expressions and adjusted their attire before following behind Feng Zongguan into Sweet Spring Palace in orderly fashion.
Upon entering, the pungent smell of medicine assailed their nostrils. A massive semi-transparent screen stood before them all.
Behind the screen, shadowy figures could be clearly discerned. The imposing figure of Tianyou Emperor reclined in a soft chair, glancing sideways toward their direction.
Though his gaze held no physical substance, they were sufficiently intimidated to remain silent and speechless, bowing their heads respectfully to await imperial instruction.
Tianyou Emperor rubbed his temples and asked sternly: "Causing such disturbance at Sweet Spring Palace early in the morning? Have you all grown tired of living?"
These seasoned officials were no five-year-old children requiring delicate handling.
Hearing his voice, the Western Path nobles collectively stiffened: Their Emperor was not one to be trifled with – brave in battle, skilled in warfare, and firm in his methods. Just seeing how he had eliminated several of his half-brothers proved he was no benign ruler.
His Majesty didn't appear seriously ill. Would they be punished for requesting an audience without proper cause?
The military officials all looked worriedly toward Duke Wen.
Chancellor Jiang endured the pain on his face, adopting an attitude of watching a spectacle. The civil officials immediately gained confidence, standing several degrees straighter.
Duke Wen stepped forward to explain: "Your Majesty, we were merely concerned about you." He went straight to the point: "Would Your Majesty tell us what has been troubling you recently? So we may set our minds at ease!" With such strong medicinal smells, they couldn't believe nothing was wrong.
Tianyou Emperor covered his mouth and coughed twice, and the bedchamber fell completely silent again. He said calmly: "There's no need for speculation. We have indeed been feeling unwell recently."
Both civil and military officials immediately grew anxious.
Duke Wen promptly asked: "What did the Imperial Physician say is the problem? How may we be of service?"
Tianyou Emperor said coldly: "You'd do well to vex Us less."
Everyone bowed their heads again. Tianyou Emperor continued: "It's no serious matter, merely some qi deficiency making Us vulnerable to wind exposure. The Imperial Physician found no specific cause after examination. Last night We had the National Preceptor cast divination. The National Preceptor declared that during this critical year of Our destiny, fortune has been unfavorable. We must pray for blessings at Tianquan Temple for ten months to ward off evil, avoid disaster, and turn misfortune into blessing."
"This won't do!" Duke Wen advanced two steps: "With Your Majesty gone, we'd be like dragons without a head!"
Chancellor Jiang also objected: "The state cannot go a single day without its ruler. The Crown Prince has not yet matured. How can Your Majesty leave for ten months? There must be another way."
Civil and military officials broke into animated discussion.
The Tianyou Emperor continued to cough lightly. "There is another way. Since I cannot leave Yujing, the National Preceptor suggested sending a dragon son to Tianquan Temple to pray on my behalf, but it requires ten years." He rested his head on his hand, looking quite troubled. "I am considering which prince to send…"
At these words, the court officials fell silent. Chancellor Jiang and Duke Wen were rendered speechless.
Which prince should be sent?
At this moment, any comment would be inappropriate.
Volunteering oneself meant not returning for ten years.
Remaining silent would appear unfilial.
Among the seven princes, several factions existed, all mutually antagonistic (Zhao Yan's faction excluded).
The civil and military officials had entered the court chattering noisily but departed in dead silence.
That very day, news spread throughout the court that His Majesty intended to select a prince to pray at Tianquan Temple on his behalf.
Empress Jiang and Noble Consort Wen were the first to receive the news. Empress Jiang told the Crown Prince, "Do not worry, my son. As the Crown Prince, you are the foundation of the state. Moreover, your Father Emperor has always valued you—he would never send you."
The Crown Prince expressed concern, "If it would cure Father Emperor's illness, your son is willing to go."
His gaze was so sincere that Empress Jiang frowned. "Do not speak such words again. You have six younger brothers—this matter should not fall to you!"
Even for the Crown Prince, returning after ten years would mean missing his chance—what would become of the Jiang family's claim to the throne?
The Crown Prince pressed his lips together and fell silent.
Empress Jiang thought: If the Second Prince were chosen, that would be perfect.
The Second Prince shared this worry. He had barely eaten his morning meal and had grown so thin he seemed likely to be blown over by a gust of wind.
That day, he summoned an Imperial Physician and did not even attend the Imperial Study.
Noble Consort Wen served him a bowl of soup and said with a smile, "Qi'er, do not worry unduly. The entire palace knows of your poor health—how could you be chosen?"
Stung by her words yet unable to refute them, the Second Prince gritted his teeth and asked, "Then will Father Emperor send the Crown Prince?"
Noble Consort Wen handed him the soup bowl. "Unlikely."
Who in the palace did not know how highly the Emperor valued the Crown Prince?
Anyone might be chosen except him.
The Third Prince, however, was a possibility.
The Third Prince's mother was Consort Chen, whose father had once been a Grand Academician of the Hanlin Academy in the previous dynasty—a close minister to the former emperor. After the Three Kings' Rebellion, he had opened the city gates to welcome the Emperor into Yujing.
Although the Emperor had declared that former dynasty officials should be treated like Western Path soldiers, he still held a grudge against the Duke of Lu, Consort Chen's father.
The Third Prince was tacitly understood to be ineligible for the throne.
Consort Chen knew this well, but to placate the former dynasty officials, the Emperor would not explicitly choose her son. The four younger princes were the most likely candidates to pray on the Emperor's behalf.
Consort Yun naturally considered this as well: although her family was considered the Emperor's maternal relatives, he had always resented past events and remained distant from the Zhou family. Consequently, she relied on attaching herself to Noble Consort Wen to share some favor.
Would the Emperor send her Little Fifth for this reason?
But upon reflection, were there not four others?
The entire palace knew the Emperor had never favored the Seventh Prince—he was the most likely candidate.
If anyone should worry, it ought to be that wretched Li Meiren first.