The Loyal Dead Soldier Did Not Plan to Run with a Bun (Pregnant) - Chapter 13

Recently, there have been no major events in the capital. After the Zhang Xing case was announced as closed, the common people lost their usual topics of gossip and were feeling bored. Just then, news spread that the foolish Virtuous Prince (Xian Wang) had fallen into the water. It was said he had nearly lost his life, and now he was running a high fever, unconscious and unable to wake. Even the imperial physicians had shaken their heads, bluntly stating that his chances of survival were slim.

Who was the Virtuous Prince? He was the Emperor’s most favored seventh son; the Emperor had never shown disdain for him, even despite his foolishness. According to the laws of the Yu Dynasty, royal family members granted the title of Prince were sent to their fiefs, far from the Emperor’s sight. Only the foolish Virtuous Prince had been allowed to remain in the capital.

The gossip-hungry listeners were instantly intrigued, unable to resist asking the first person who spread the news: “Is this report true? You aren’t just spouting nonsense, are you? Spreading rumors about a Prince—that’s punishable by having your mouth sewn shut in prison.”

The man, unjustly accused of spreading rumors, was instantly enraged. Just as he was about to stand up and argue his case, he saw two teams of soldiers in light armor rushing toward the end of the street, driving away the commoners and clearing the road to make way for the imperial carriage following behind them.

The Imperial Guards were the Emperor’s personal troops; one usually only saw them when the Emperor left the palace.

The man instantly shrank back like a turtle withdrawing into its shell, like a clam closing its lid tight.

Not only did he shut his mouth, but everyone present also fearfully minimized their presence.

After all, who would have imagined that the Emperor’s doting on the Virtuous Prince had reached such a degree that he would leave the palace to visit in person the very first moment he learned of the Prince’s accident?

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The old Emperor arrived in person, and the Imperial Guards surrounded the Virtuous Prince’s estate. Inside the estate, apart from Physician Liu and Master Sui Yun, everyone from top to bottom was kneeling outside the chamber.

The old Emperor did not spare them a glance, crossing the threshold with an anxious expression.

Inside the room, Physician Liu and Wei San were kneeling by the bedside. Seeing the old Emperor, they kowtowed in salute: “May Your Majesty live in peace.”

The old Emperor paused when his gaze touched upon Wei San. He scrutinized him with significant meaning for a moment, but ultimately said nothing, beckoning for them to rise.

The old Emperor passed through the inner hall into the sleeping chamber. His expression had been relatively composed, but when he saw his son lying on the bed—breathing as thin as a thread, his brows knit in suppressed agony—he finally couldn’t hold back and his eyes reddened.

Among all his sons, he loved this foolish, dull-witted Seventh son, who resembled Consort Xu in his features, the most. Even if this son had caused huge trouble, he had never truly berated or beaten him. Seeing him in such agony now, he could not bear the sorrow in his heart.

He sat by the bed and gently stroked Wei Zheng’s hair whorl: “My A-Yun has suffered.”

His voice was hoarse, carrying a trace of stifled sobs.

No one in the room dared to speak up and disturb him. After the old Emperor had expressed his sorrow, he quickly restrained his outward emotions. He summoned the Head Physician of the Imperial Hospital and scanned the people in the room with cold eyes. “I want the Virtuous Prince to be unharmed. If any mistake befalls the Virtuous Prince, all of you will be buried with my son!”

With a single sentence, the old Emperor laid a blade across the necks of everyone in the Prince’s estate. If the Virtuous Prince woke up unharmed, all would be well and joyful; but if he did not wake up…

Suddenly burdened with the weight of hundreds of lives, including his own, the old Head Physician’s hands trembled, beads of cold sweat popping out on his forehead. He kowtowed tremblingly: “This subject obeys the decree.”

The old Head Physician was ordered to stay in the Prince’s estate and could not leave until the Virtuous Prince had recovered.

After giving his imperial decree, the old Emperor did not leave. Instead, he guarded the old Head Physician as he took Wei Zheng’s pulse and prescribed medicine, then directly summoned Steward Li.

He asked bluntly: “Old Seven falling into the water—was it truly an accident?”

Accustomed to the duplicity and machinations of the palace, the old Emperor did not believe for a second that this was a simple accident.

Steward Li had already prepared his story in his heart. He recounted the situation at the time word for word, without adding any embellishment, appearing as if he were merely stating objective facts. Yet, the more indifferent his attitude, the more the old Emperor became convinced there must be something behind it.

He thought of the Crown Prince, who hadn’t appeared since the accident, and recalled what Steward Li had just said, and his anger surged from his heart.

“Knowing Old Seven doesn’t know how to swim, he waited by the lotus pond—what exactly was his intention?”

Steward Li dared not respond. He kept his head bowed and his waist bent, wanting to say something but fearing that doing so would only make the old Emperor more furious.

The old Emperor was old but not senile; the moment he saw Steward Li’s hesitant, word-swallowing manner, he knew there was a problem. He said in a deep voice: “Speak freely if you have something to say; I guarantee I will not blame you.”

Having received the grace, Steward Li tearfully voiced the grievance for his Prince.

“The Master is in such a critical condition now because the time from falling into the water to being rescued was too long. If the Crown Prince had saved the Prince immediately, it would not have been so serious. It is only a pity that the Crown Prince does not know how to swim either, and this old servant had to go far to seek help, which delayed the time.”

After finishing, he knelt and slapped his own face: “This old servant does not harbor resentment toward the Crown Prince; I am merely letting my imagination run wild. I beg the Emperor not to take it to heart.”

The old Emperor did not comment. After hearing this, he ordered Steward Li to withdraw.

With a gloomy face, he pondered for a moment, then summoned Zhao Fu and asked: “Where is the Crown Prince?”

Zhao Fu had long guessed that the old Emperor would ask about the Crown Prince’s whereabouts. He answered immediately: “The Virtuous Prince fell into the water, and the Crown Prince is full of self-reproach. After leaving the Prince’s estate, he went to Lingtai Temple to chant sutras and pray for the Virtuous Prince.”

The old Emperor sneered: “Chanting sutras and praying? I wonder how much sincerity is in that.”

Zhao Fu naturally dared not answer, looking at his nose and observing his heart, pretending to understand nothing.

The old Emperor could not be out of the palace for too long and had to return soon. Before leaving, he called Master Sui Yun alone to a pavilion outside the courtyard.

He went straight to the point: “I know you were coerced by Old Seven. I can order you to be sent away, and Old Seven will never harass you again. What is your intention?”

A hint of joy flashed in Master Sui Yun’s eyes, but then, as if remembering something, the light in his eyes vanished instantly. He looked sorrowful, laughing at himself as he said: “My reputation has been destroyed, where could I go?”

A scholar whose body had been forcibly taken to be a lowly male concubine—his future and reputation were both ruined. Even if he left the Prince’s estate, he would only be living a life of being poked in the spine by others.

The old Emperor turned his jade thumb ring, his gaze as sharp as a blade as he stared at him.

Wei San felt nervous in his heart, not daring to relax for a moment, striving to maintain the appearance of someone who had given up on life and accepted becoming a bird in a cage.

The old Emperor could not see through his disguise, slowly retracting his gaze: “Since this is the case, I have nothing more to say. Since you have chosen to stay, you should serve Old Seven dutifully. If you harbor any thoughts you shouldn’t have…”

He cut off his words here. Although he didn’t state it explicitly, a three-year-old child could understand what he meant.

After admonishing the Prince’s male concubine, the old Emperor left the palace with his entourage, and the Imperial Guards surrounding the Virtuous Prince’s estate also withdrew.

With no outsiders left, Wei San returned to the bedchamber and closed the door. Upon turning around, he saw the Master, who had been drugged into unconsciousness, had woken up at some point. He was struggling to get up, suppressing the pain, and as he stood up from the bed, he stumbled over the carpet spread on the floor because his legs lacked strength.

Seeing him stagger and about to fall, Wei San rushed forward without a second thought and caught him in his arms.

The sick man’s body was weak and limp; carrying him would have been very strenuous, but fortunately, Wei San was skilled in martial arts and held Wei Zheng steadily.

He was just about to help Wei Zheng sit back on the bed when, unexpectedly, Wei Zheng suddenly pressed against his body, his arms circling his waist, his chin resting on his shoulder, murmuring vaguely: “I am uncomfortable; let this Prince hold you for a while to recover.”

Perhaps because of the high fever, even the breath he exhaled was burning hot. Wei San felt his waist go numb from the heat, and he found he could not say a word of refusal.

He stood there stiffly, letting Wei Zheng hold him, unaware that the person resting on his shoulder was curling his lips in a pleased, sneaky laugh.