Exhausting his remaining strength to knock the two nannies unconscious, Wenchuzhu rested for quite a while before he finally mustered the energy to walk over to Yu’er’s bed.
Yu’er was still taking his afternoon nap. Wenchuzhu affectionately rubbed his forehead gently against Yu’er’s and called out softly, “Yu’er, wake up. Stop sleeping.”
As if the little fellow was already close to waking up, at his gentle call, he opened his clear and bright eyes. “Father Emperor?” With that, he reached out two small hands to wrap around Wenchuzhu’s neck. “Yu’er dreamed that Father Emperor didn’t want Yu’er anymore.”
Wenchuzhu gently patted Yu’er and soothed him in a soft voice, “That won’t happen. Father Emperor will never abandon Yu’er.”
He didn’t have much time left. Wenchuzhu picked up Yu’er and twisted the mechanism at the head of the bed. The next moment, the pearwood wardrobe in the chamber slowly slid aside, revealing a hidden room behind it.
The secret chamber had been built in secret by the late Emperor. To guard against palace coups, Wenchuzhu could hide there to save his life in times of crisis.
Wenchuzhu was the late Emperor’s treasure, and Yu’er was Wenchuzhu’s treasure.
“Be a good boy, Yu’er, and wait obediently here for Father Emperor to come pick you up. No matter who calls out to Yu’er from outside later on, Yu’er must not make a sound. Stay hidden safely.”
Yu’er nodded: “Father Emperor, don’t worry. Yu’er will only listen to Father Emperor.”
“Yu’er truly is a good child of mine.” Wenchuzhu carried Yu’er to the daybed inside the secret chamber. Once the secret chamber door closed, Wenchuzhu hurriedly put on his pearl crown again and left the Eastern Palace.
Outside the Mingguang Hall, Xie Huai stood before the vermilion palace doors, watching as Wenchuzhu was supported by a eunuch stepping down from the sedan chair.
“Why did it take so long?”
Wenchuzhu walked closer to Xie Huai: “I went to check on Yu’er midway.”
As he spoke, he made to walk past Xie Huai, but his wrist suddenly tightened.
Wenchuzhu lowered his gaze to look at the wrist held in Xie Huai’s grasp, then raised his eyes to look at the man. Before he could ask, his slender, thin frame was turned by Xie Huai to face him directly: “The pearl crown on the Emperor’s head is crooked.”
Raising his hand, he earnestly straightened the pearl crown for Wenchuzhu. “To think the Imperial Household Department could be so careless as to give a damaged pearl crown for the Emperor to wear.”
The crown was broken, and Wenchuzhu knew very well how that had come to be; he simply hadn’t expected that the crown would end up crooked, nor that Xie Huai would personally straighten it for him again.
“Better not wear it at all. If the envoys from the Longshu Kingdom discovered this, they would assume our Great Zhou is so impoverished that the Emperor has to receive guests wearing a dilapidated pearl crown.”
Xie Huai tossed the removed pearl crown down beside the internal official’s feet. “Give the palace servant in charge of the pearl crown one hundred strokes of the heavy staff, strip them of their position, and drive them out of the imperial palace.”
Wenchuzhu’s expression remained calm and tranquil, betraying not the slightest emotion, though his hands hidden within his cloud sleeves clenched tightly into fists.
At the same time, he analyzed that since Xie Huai acted thus, he had not grown suspicious of him.
With the pearl crown removed, Wenchuzhu’s hair bun lacked any adornment, looking excessively plain. Xie Huai drew a red coral hairpin from his sleeve pocket and pinned it into Wenchuzhu’s hair.
It was like the finishing touch on a painting, exuding a charming, regal elegance without losing its poise.
Wenchuzhu raised a hand to touch the hairpin in his hair and asked, “Why does the Prince Regent carry a hairpin with him?”
Xie Huai said nonchalantly, “In my memory, this hairpin has always been with me.”
The implication was that this hairpin had been by his side since his early childhood. Wenchuzhu frowned slightly; he remembered that Xie Huai came from a humble, impoverished background, so how could he possess such a precious object?
Today’s matters of state took precedence; Wenchuzhu stopped pondering and stepped forward into the Mingguang Hall.
The interior of the Mingguang Hall was lavishly decorated: golden ceilings, sandalwood beams, night-shining pearl palace lamps, floors paved with the finest white jade, and banquet tables laden with all sorts of mountain delicacies and seafood.
The officials who had been chatting fell silent the moment Wenchuzhu and Xie Huai entered, bowing in unison to greet Wenchuzhu.
Wenchuzhu was well aware that most of the officials were bowing to the person beside him.
Yet the polite formalities on the surface still had to be observed: “Today is the Prince Regent’s birthday, so my beloved subjects need not stand on ceremony with me.”
With these words, he defined himself: a puppet emperor devoid of real power, yielding entirely to Xie Huai’s will.
Xie Huai scrutinized Wenchuzhu’s face for a fleeting moment before turning his gaze to the civil and military officials: “Today is this prince’s birthday, everyone please make yourselves at home.”
With that, Xie Huai stepped up and took his seat in the primary position.
Hearing Xie Huai’s words, the crowd dared to disperse, watching the performers on the stage.
Wenchuzhu raised his eyes to look at the sky outside the window lattice, the Marquis of Anding’s troops should be arriving soon, shouldn’t they?
Just as Wenchuzhu was deep in thought, a pair of dark, unfathomable eyes were fixed steadily upon him, scrutinizing him closely.