Zhen Huan closed her eyes, unwilling to look at the bargain-bin son standing before her.
Feeling guilty, Hongli hurriedly offered her a cup of tea.
He was genuinely afraid that, after finally managing to repair their relationship somewhat, he might anger his mother into an illness.
Zhen Huan couldn’t very well leave him hanging.
With a sigh, she accepted the tea and took a sip.
“The Emperor is grown now. I can no longer control you.”
Hongli immediately admitted fault.
“No matter how grown I become, I will always be your son. This time I truly failed to think things through. I acted too hastily.”
What was Zhen Huan supposed to do?
The girl had already slept with the Emperor.
And the Emperor had already declared his intention to make her an Attendant.
Could Zhen Huan realistically oppose it?
If she did, what future would that girl have in this era?
Destroying a young woman’s life for the sake of preserving her adopted son’s reputation was not something Zhen Huan could bring herself to do.
“Forget it. What’s done is done.
Since she is only being made an Attendant, there will be no formal investiture ceremony. In theory, news shouldn’t reach the court officials.
Tell her to keep a low profile. Don’t let this turn into a spectacle.
The others as well. Treat this Attendant as though she had always been here. No gossiping and no spreading rumors.
This is hardly something worth celebrating.”
Hongli quickly nodded.
“Your son will inform the Empress immediately and have her keep the harem under control.”
“The person most in need of control is you. They can only gossip if you give them something to gossip about.”
Though Hongli felt somewhat embarrassed to be scolded like this, he had never been particularly bold when facing the Empress Dowager.
So he merely lowered his head.
“Your son accepts the lesson.”
Zhen Huan didn’t bother saying more.
She could tell perfectly well that everything she said was entering one ear and leaving through the other.
He was the Emperor now.
Why would he willingly restrain himself?
Honestly, Zhen Huan felt Hongli was incredibly fortunate.
He wasn’t born into the real Qing Dynasty.
He had been born into this watered-down television-drama version of palace intrigue.
Otherwise, based on some of the things he’d done, he’d owe the realm a hundred self-criticism edicts by now.
“The Emperor must be tired. Go back and rest.”
The moment Hongli realized he would no longer have to endure another lecture, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
He immediately prepared to make his escape.
Yet just as he reached the doorway, inspiration suddenly struck Zhen Huan.
“You aren’t planning to give me any grandchildren during the mourning period, are you?”
Hongli froze.
An awkward expression appeared on his face.
The truth was that he had never even considered the issue.
Zhen Huan could practically feel her blood pressure rising.
He actually dared?!
He wasn’t even pretending to care?
The late Emperor must be rolling in his grave.
“I don’t care whether you summon consorts in private.
But under absolutely no circumstances are you to produce a child during the mourning period.
Even if you don’t care about your reputation, think of the child.
If a child is born during the mourning period, how will they ever hold their head high in the future?”
Hongli had the distinct impression that the Empress Dowager was angrier about this than she had been when she learned he had taken a new woman during mourning.
He hurriedly promised that nothing of the sort would happen.
Then, while Fuga was helping calm the Empress Dowager and she clearly no longer wished to speak to him, he seized the opportunity and fled.
Truthfully, when Hongli and Ruyi had attended opera performances during mourning and even invited imperial clanswomen to watch, nearly causing a scandal, Zhen Huan had not truly been angry.
At most, she had felt irritated.
Those two simply seemed incapable of avoiding trouble.
The reason was simple.
Everything they had done had been voluntary.
Given the nature of their relationship, if Ruyi had said she didn’t want to go, Hongli would never have forced her.
If disaster resulted, then they had only themselves to blame.
This situation was different.
A performer from the Southern Manor troupe occupied one of the lowest positions imaginable.
If the Emperor wished to take her as a concubine, could she realistically refuse?
Because of that, even though Zhen Huan still didn’t know whether the girl had consented willingly, the simple fact remained that she occupied a position where refusal was nearly impossible.
And Hongli had never even considered whether her wishes mattered.
That was what made Zhen Huan angry.
What if an Empress Dowager, concerned only with appearances, had secretly ordered the girl executed?
Would that have been impossible?
Not at all.
Historically, even princes who got their secondary consorts pregnant during mourning periods often forced abortions despite the significant danger involved, back when medical techniques were primitive.
And those women were secondary consorts.
They usually had powerful families and influential relatives behind them.
What did a Southern Manor performer have?
Nothing.
So this was hardly some unimaginable possibility.
Zhen Huan wasn’t angry because Hongli lacked filial piety.
As far as she was concerned, if he could handle the consequences properly, he could dance on his father’s grave for all she cared.
What angered her was that he had made the girl an Attendant and brought her into the harem, yet seemed utterly unconcerned about her reputation, her future, or even her life.
And beneath the anger was something sadder.
Because Zhen Huan knew there was very little she could truly change.
All she could do was protect whatever lives happened to fall within her reach.
She let out a long sigh.
For the first time that day, she felt genuinely tired.