Concubine Wei struggled for breath as she stopped her maid.
“No need. If others find out, who knows what sort of gossip they’ll spread about me.”
“But you…” Qiushui’s tears fell.
“It’s fine. It’s an old problem. I’ll recover after resting a bit. Once Yuan’er returns later, put more rouge on my cheeks.”
“Yes,” Qiushui replied while biting her lip.
Why force yourself like this?
No matter how favored that child was by the prince, he was still an outsider. He could never compare to Third Young Master, nor could he ever inherit the title.
Her mistress was overthinking again and tormenting herself for nothing.
But Qiushui dared not say such words aloud. The more people tried to reason with Concubine Wei, the more stubbornly she trapped herself in her own thoughts.
Not long afterward, Third Young Master Gu Yuan and Eldest Young Lady Gu Qiqi returned from school.
The two were twins—a boy and a girl.
Yet their appearances and heights differed greatly.
Gu Qiqi was sweet-looking, already showing signs of becoming a beauty despite her young age.
Gu Yuan, however, was thin and frail, nearly a head shorter than his sister.
His features appeared dull, and his eyes lacked spirit, without any of the liveliness an eight-year-old child ought to possess.
Even so, both children entered together to greet their mother respectfully.
Yet Concubine Wei’s eyes held only her son.
She tightly gripped Gu Yuan’s hand and questioned him in detail about every aspect of life at school, terrified of missing even the smallest thing.
That still wasn’t enough.
After sending Gu Yuan away, she called over the servant boy who accompanied him and questioned him thoroughly as well.
As for her own daughter, from beginning to end she didn’t even spare her a glance.
Only when Gu Qiqi took her leave did Concubine Wei respond with a simple “Mm,” acknowledging her existence.
Gu Qiqi seemed long accustomed to this treatment. Calmly, she followed her nursemaid away.
Meanwhile, Gu Zhanzhen was currently being scolded by the old emperor inside the palace.
The lecture amounted to accusing him of no longer handling matters as reliably as before. After expending so much effort, he had captured only one corrupt official without uncovering the true mastermind behind the case.
The emperor slammed his dragon-carved desk loudly enough to shake the room and hurled a memorial to the floor at Gu Zhanzhen’s feet.
“Look at the absurd things you’ve done! Of all people to fancy, you had to choose a newly widowed woman. You even forged a divorce letter just to bring her into your manor!”
“Gu Zhanzhen! Gu Zhanzhen! I think you’re truly starving—you’ll swallow any sort of trash!”
Gu Zhanzhen bent down to pick up the memorial, his face calm and his heart utterly unmoved.
In truth, he had intentionally leaked the matter to the censors himself.
He wanted the emperor to seize upon a weakness and lower his guard against him.
For years, he had spared no effort in serving the emperor loyally.
But what had that earned him in the end?
Nothing but endless suspicion.
The emperor kept tossing him impossible problems and embarrassing messes to clean up, leaving him humiliated in the eyes of others.
Rather than exhausting himself without reward, he would rather hide his achievements and dull his own sharp edge.
And “lust” was the perfect excuse.
After venting his irritation, the old emperor walked over and patted Gu Zhanzhen’s shoulder.
Meaningfully, he said:
“You’ve worked tirelessly to ease my burdens. Very well—the duties of the Ministry of Revenue and Ministry of Works shall temporarily be managed by Prince Yi instead. It will also provide an explanation for the censors.
“You should use this time to rest properly and give me more grandnephews. Ah yes—during next year’s imperial selection, I’ll choose several good women for you as well.”
Though he clearly understood these were merely pretty words disguising the stripping of his power, Gu Zhanzhen still cupped his hands respectfully.
“Many thanks for Your Majesty’s consideration.”
For a brief instant, the old emperor’s pupils darkened.
Sharp, probing light shot from his sunken eyes as he scrutinized Gu Zhanzhen carefully.
Only after seeing no trace of dissatisfaction on his face did he resume speaking in the affectionate tone of an elder relative.
“It’s been half a month since this uncle and nephew last met. Prince Yi happens to be here as well. Why don’t the three of us drink until we’re thoroughly drunk?”
So Prince Yi was here too.
Truly willing to spare no effort just to gain attention before the emperor.
Gu Zhanzhen bowed slightly.
“This subject will naturally obey Your Majesty and elder cousin.”
Though it was called a drinking session among three men, the emperor and Prince Yi barely touched their cups.
Fully aware that Gu Zhanzhen had poor alcohol tolerance, they continuously forced wine upon him in hopes of drawing secrets from his mouth.
Gu Zhanzhen could only force himself to remain mentally alert, fearing that one careless sentence might provide them leverage against him.
It was well past midnight before the emperor finally released him.
The instant he saw Steward Qin again, the mental defenses he had maintained all evening collapsed.
Like a boneless lump of mud, he lost consciousness completely.
Since the master of the house was away in the palace, the servants on duty in the front courtyard had become somewhat lax.
Normally two servant boys guarded the entrance, but one had temporarily abandoned his post claiming stomach trouble, leaving only Shun’an alone.
Shun’an didn’t particularly mind.
With a blade of grass hanging from his mouth, he leaned lazily against the gate passage with folded arms, lost in thought.
The other day, while leaving the latrine, he had overheard two people plotting against Mingyu. And today, he learned she had indeed been punished.
But that affair had originated entirely from Mingyu’s own blindness and arrogance. No one else was truly responsible.
So did that mean the matter was over?
As he pondered this, he suddenly noticed someone approaching from the distance.
From the figure and walking posture alone, he immediately recognized Mingyu.
Wasn’t she supposed to be locked in the woodshed? Why had she been released again?
Then a thought struck him.
No—that couldn’t be right. Someone must have intentionally arranged this.
But who?
Before he could think further, Mingyu had already arrived before him.
Pretending not to recognize her, Shun’an questioned her according to routine:
“What are you here for?”
Mingyu’s heart skipped violently.
At first, after being locked in the woodshed, she had fallen into utter despair.
By the end, she no longer even hated Zhu Xinyan. She only hated herself for being blind—for failing to realize just how excessive Gu Zhanzhen’s favor toward Zhu Xinyan truly was.
Regret consumed her, but what use was regret now?
She had spent the entire day curled up hugging her knees, hoping only that Steward Qin might show mercy and sell her into a decent household.
Then later, Qing’er brought her food and deliberately mentioned that Gu Zhanzhen had entered the palace and been kept there drinking by the emperor.
At once, Mingyu’s thoughts revived.
After drinking, the prince would sleep heavily through the night.
Why shouldn’t she seize this opportunity… and climb into his bed?
Once matters were consummated, a man of Gu Zhanzhen’s character would surely take responsibility. Then she would rise to become an official bedchamber attendant.
Desperate to grasp this final chance, Mingyu knelt and kowtowed to Qing’er.
“Dear Qing’er, I know you’re kindhearted and compassionate. Please, leave me a path to survive!”
Then she stuffed every valuable item she possessed into Qing’er’s hands.
Seeing Mingyu fall perfectly into the trap, Qing’er still pretended reluctance to avoid suspicion.
“Well… for the sake of our sisterhood, I’ll help you this once. Later I’ll leave the door loosely shut and call away the servant guarding outside. The rest depends on your own fate.”
The two immediately reached an agreement.
Once the guards outside were gone, Mingyu quietly slipped out.
Now she stood only one step away from success.
Though panic churned inside her, she still forced herself to appear calm under Shun’an’s questioning.
Lowering her head and softening her voice, she said:
“I was sent from the kitchen to deliver hangover soup. Steward Qin passed word ahead for us to prepare it.”
To avoid exposure, she even lifted the tray slightly forward.
“Mm. Go in.”
The moment Mingyu entered, Gu Zhanzhen was carried into the courtyard right behind her.
Steward Qin was already advanced in years and utterly exhausted by this point.
Shun’an quickly stepped forward to help support the prince and escorted him into the room, gently laying him onto the bed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a shadow concealed behind the eastern window curtain, yet he said nothing.
Inside, he silently muttered:
You chose this road yourself. If you end up losing your life over it, you can’t blame anyone else.