The Deposed Crown Prince had Three Lifelong Regrets - Chapter 48

Chapter 48

Foreword: After more than half a month, the Supreme Sovereign, amidst the earnest hopes of everyone, saw his dragon body return to great health. Li Qinghuai initially appeared in court twice, but she had not returned to her residence, only sending letters to the residence sporadically.

Afterword: Footsteps were disorderly in the guest hall. Lu Fengmian sat cross-legged on the pillar, clinging to the roof beam.

“Mao Hongbo, the Emperor asks you, given the vacant Crown Prince position, to recommend a candidate for the Crown Prince. Discuss who is suitable?” The Chief Eunuch stood nearby, awaiting good news.

“It’s very good that His Majesty wishes to establish the Crown Prince early. Very good. Establishing the Crown Prince early can focus on cultivating the heir’s governing ability. Laying a solid foundation for the Crown Prince after succession.” The Minister of Justice lowered his eyes, slowly uttering a sentence after holding it in for more than ten seconds.

“I am asking you for a recommendation for the Crown Prince candidate.” The Chief Eunuch still wore a smile.

“His Majesty is blessed with a long life. If it weren’t for His Majesty’s concern for the nation and his people, and his willingness to deal with affairs in advance, there would be no rush to establish anyone.”

The Chief Eunuch sighed secretly, laughing at his overly smooth demeanor. “Aiya, just speak frankly. Don’t beat around the bush. Our family still needs to report back.”

Mao Hongbo was as dull as before, directly replying, “How dare I? How dare I?”

“You really are…” The eunuch who came to inquire was helpless to see the man dodge the important questions and feign ignorance. The laughter in his voice was somewhat choked.

“Oh, why is there someone squatting up there?” The Chief Eunuch’s gaze followed the supporting pillar upwards. A noble young lady was perched on the beam, her hair neatly bound, with all her jade hairpins and tassels intact.

Her fingernails were painted a bright red Lancôme, and she wore a purple, smoky-colored thin gauze dress.

“Come down quickly. Our family won’t blame you. Why are you still so shy when you’ve grown up? You are a married person, yet still so fidgety. But this saves our family the trouble of going to the Zhao Residence to find you.”

A light blush rose on Lu Fengmian’s face. She pinched her loose sleeve and cautiously slid down the beam.

“Concubine Duan wishes to invite you to the palace to see Princess Xingling. Princess Xingling misses you very much. Miss Lu, if you are not busy, you might as well go to the palace to see her.”

The invitations she had sent a few days ago had all gone unanswered. It was a time when everyone was on guard, so why would Concubine Duan, with whom she had only a superficial acquaintance, invite her?

A voice vaguely surfaced in her mind.

Concubine Duan is all show and no substance, outwardly fierce but inwardly weak, either stupid or evil.

It was probably that person who said it.

She politely offered her thanks, bowed repeatedly, and left as if fleeing.

She ran through the corridors and gates, rolling all the way back to the Zhao Residence.

The way she was dressed was like a female ghost. She had only dreamed of this outfit and had deliberately sought out similar clothes, hoping to recall something more.

Just as she was about to step over the threshold, her foot hovered in the air, reluctant to fall. Red lacquer, rouge flower petals—the attire of a wedding night.

Her foot stepped on air, and she suddenly lurched downward.

“Don’t disgust me.” A voice emerged from her heart.

It was much clearer than the last time, but she was too lazy or too reluctant to discern the details.

Lingwei’s voice had a quality of pain—a torn wound soaked in hot water, allowing itself to be quietly chaotic. It was like a very bland tone used when one’s heart was breaking, buried deep in thick dirt.

It was her—smiling and offering blessings at her own wedding to Yan’er. It was her—knocking on the palace gates late at night, begging for a divorce, working tirelessly.

It was the rupture after the Empress hanged herself. It was that final word: “disgust.”

It was a necessary measure. The Empress was ruthless. Though she treated her well, she utilized her mother more.

Footsteps clattered. She walked decisively.

To punish her for having left the residence without permission, the family rules and family law were brought out in turn: first, for disregarding the ancestral tablets; second, for making her family worry; third, for not knowing what was good for her…

In the middle of summer, in June, everyone was still shaken, believing the matter would conclude, but what followed was Lu Fengmian falling into the water.

It was said that she had a conflict with her cousin and voluntarily jumped into the lotus pond.

This child had always loved finding fault with Lu Fengmian. Now that they had grown up, they were still the same as before, neither willing to yield to the other.

Since she was five years older, she should yield somewhat. After all, as the dependent young lady of the Zhao Residence, knowing when to stop and being sensible was the right path, showing more forgiveness to the frail and sickly young Miss Cousin.

How was it that she was forcibly pulled out during her confinement and then fell into the water?

The atmosphere in the residence was very oppressive for a time. Everyone was on guard, afraid of causing trouble for themselves.

There were rumors that Lu Fengmian jumped in herself to frame her cousin. Gossip is a fearsome thing. If she hadn’t always handled matters smoothly and offended no one inside or out, she would have been drowned in spit.

And she was simply unwilling. Unwilling to spend the rest of her life living according to the stories told by others.

She jumped into the lake herself. When the servant jumped in to rescue her, she was still desperately pushing herself further down. As for why the rumors appeared, one would have to ask if others had a clear conscience.

Lu Fengmian didn’t offer much explanation. Whenever she found an opportunity in her spare time, she would walk by the lotus pond.

In just one month, she had jumped in more than eight times.

The weather turned cooler, and the pond water became increasingly bone-chilling. But this was far less than the cold in her heart. Being completely ignorant and being manipulated was what was most devastating.

If the pond water could awaken the buried memories, her efforts would not be in vain.

She knew the direction of the plague case, but she was still completely ignorant of other matters. She knew she was vain and could share bliss but not hardship, but she had at least known the person for a long time.

It truly didn’t make sense to sever ties with the person when her Imperial Mother committed suicide.

What exactly happened during that time?

The more tightly she held the sand in her palm, the faster it slipped away. She didn’t wait for her memory to return, but she waited for the concern of her father.

Lu Enzhuo probably felt that his daughter harbored resentment toward the marriage with Her Highness Li. He offered roundabout guidance, talking at length about her childhood.

Although she didn’t remember any of those things.

“You can’t entirely blame her. After all, you were married before, and although you later divorced. It probably broke the other person’s heart. Now that person has chosen to let go, it’s best for you to move on quickly.”

Lu Fengmian felt even more confused about her marriage to Young Master Shang. They were once husband and wife sharing a pillow.

She never thought she loved Zhu Lingwei. No one around her thought so either, except for this father she had acquired.

He must have drawn this absurd conclusion from fragmented details.

The emotions during her unconscious state were tumultuous, allowing her to clearly discern subtle emotional changes. In every inch, every fraction of the affection, there was a friendship formed since childhood, a trust rooted in mutual reliance.

But there was no romantic love between a man and a woman.

Furthermore, they were both women, so there naturally couldn’t be romantic love.

“If you can’t sleep soundly, use some sandalwood brought from the Western Regions. It has the effect of calming the mind and soothing the nerves.”

This flesh-and-blood relationship was awkward to navigate. The closer the kinship, the harder it was for Lu Fengmian to put on a polite facade.

Father—he was her biological father, her father in name.

He was also a father unattainable in her heart.

She somehow managed to send the guest away, hastily covered herself with the quilt, burying her head. Sandalwood lingered at her nose, richly fragrant. Soon, the entire room was permeated with the scent.

Her mind was a thousand knots of worry, and she couldn’t help but let her imagination run wild. Her heart was a jumble of mixed feelings, extraordinarily sour.

Although she was a dependent, the feeling of wandering and rootlessness was exceptionally strong at this moment. Even the insecurity of her many years of amnesia now poured out.

The capital was prosperous, and many people secretly laughed at her for being divorced. Now, at thirty-seven, she was engaged but the marriage was delayed. It was no wonder people gossiped.

The birthday banquet she spent in confinement half a month ago marked her twenty-second year.

It was acceptable that her future was inscrutable. But why was her past also so unclear?

The dream was vivid, outlining the colors of the past stroke by stroke. Rows of red lanterns, full of the festive atmosphere of the Spring Festival.

Zhu Lingwei’s spring clothes made her look charming and innocent, smiling sweetly at the banquet. And she was by her side at the royal banquet, with the identity of the Empress’s adopted daughter.

“Hoo—” She leaned against the wall, waiting for her mind to slowly return. After a long time, she finally decided that she must go to the palace again to see the little Princess Xingling.