The Loyal Dead Soldier Did Not Plan to Run with a Bun (Pregnant) - Chapter 19

The old Emperor was by nature suspicious; otherwise, he would not have falsely accused the highly decorated Dingguo Duke based on a single word from the Empress, leading to the extermination of all seventy-three members of the Xu household and causing Noble Consort Xu to suffer a miscarriage and hemorrhage, resulting in both mother and child dying.

Wei Zheng knew better than anyone how cold and heartless the old Emperor was. By choosing to reveal his recovery from his “brain illness” at this time, he had a ninety percent certainty of putting the old Emperor’s mind at ease.

He acted as if he had not noticed the change in the old Emperor’s expression, continuing to treat his father with the same deep trust and reverence he had always displayed.

“Father Emperor, during the many days I was in a coma, I kept dreaming of Mother Consort and my little sister. Mother Consort was just as she always was, unchanged. She personally cooked many of the dishes I loved, just as she did when I was a child, and she would teach me to read and write. But by last night, she kept urging me to leave, saying that I did not belong there and should return.”

He spun a tapestry of truth and lies about the visions in his coma. While the details were fabricated, the uncontrollable sorrow and longing he expressed when speaking of Noble Consort Xu were genuine.

As a young man, the old Emperor had truly cherished Noble Consort Xu, his childhood sweetheart. Hearing news of her after so many years, he could not help but be momentarily stunned.

He couldn’t resist asking, “Your Mother Consort… how has she been on the other side?”

In his heart, he knew better than anyone: how could a person who had been dead for ten years be doing well?

The old Emperor felt a bitter taste in his mouth, and a faint sense of regret began to stir. If not for the events of that year, the Noble Consort would certainly still be by his side. Their daughter would have grown into a beautiful young woman three parts like him, seven parts like her mother. He likely would have been reluctant to marry her off, wanting only to keep her by his side to spoil her.

It was just a pity…

As he pondered, he did not notice that Wei Zheng had been observing the subtle changes in his expression from beginning to end, capturing the flash of regret in his eyes.

Indeed, only the dead remain the unforgettable “vermilion cinnabar mole” in one’s heart, and only what is lost forever is worth remembering and mourning.

Late-blooming affection is worthless. Wei Zheng found it both ironic and ridiculous.

He did not answer the Emperor’s question, for both knew it was merely self-deception and empty consolation.

With Noble Consort Xu acting as a buffer, the old Emperor was no longer as suspicious of Wei Zheng as he had been at the start, though he was not quite as intimate as he had once been.

The Emperor offered his routine concerns and called for the head of the Imperial Medical Academy to check Wei Zheng’s pulse, focusing his questions on whether the brain illness would recur.

This questioning was quite telling. As the head physician, the old man was no simple person; he kept his head bowed, stealing glances at the royal father and son, and gradually began to understand the situation.

His brow twitched, and he spoke evasively: “The brain is the most complex and fragile part of the human body. My medical skills are mediocre, so I cannot confirm immediately if the Prince’s illness is truly cured. We must observe him for some time.”

Such a statement had no flaws and offended neither party.

The old Emperor pondered for a moment. Whether he believed the physician or not, he said nothing more on the subject.

The old Emperor did not linger. As usual, he stayed for half an hour before rising to leave.

“Father Emperor, let this son see you off.”

Wei Zheng struggled to rise, but was pressed back down by the old Emperor.

“You have just recovered from a serious illness; lie down and recuperate properly. Do not let any lasting ailments settle in.”

The palm the old Emperor used to press his shoulder held force, carrying an unquestionable dominance. Wei Zheng had not intended to see him off anyway, so he leaned back against the headboard, taking the opportunity to cough weakly several times.

Over the years, the old Emperor still held some paternal affection for him. Seeing him so frail, his heart softened slightly. Wei Zheng seized this moment to make a request.

He said, “Father Emperor, I wish to move my Mother Consort’s memorial tablet to the Prince Xian manor.”

According to the customs of the Yu Dynasty, concubines with rank were buried in the side tombs of the Imperial Mausoleum after death. Although the Xu family had committed the grave sin of treason, the old Emperor, mindful of his past feelings, had disregarded the criticism of court officials and buried Noble Consort Xu with the highest rites, and her memorial tablet was enshrined in the Royal Ancestral Hall.

It was nearly impossible for Wei Zheng to move the Noble Consort’s coffin out of the Imperial Mausoleum, so he had to settle for the next best thing: the memorial tablet.

The old Emperor’s expression flickered. After a moment of contemplation, he asked, “Seventh, why do you want the Noble Consort’s tablet?”

His words carried a probing tone, though it was not overt. Wei Zheng pretended not to notice. He explained with a lonely air: “For over ten years, my mind was clouded and I was unable to observe mourning for my mother, nor could I honor her for a single day. Feeling deep guilt and restlessness, I have come upon this idea.”

The old Emperor pursed his lips in silence, his cloudy eyes half-closed, leaving his inner thoughts unreadable.

Wei Zheng sat up on the bed and performed a formal kowtow, his tone firm: “I beg Father Emperor to fulfill this filial duty of mine.”

The old Emperor reached out to help him up and let out a long sigh: “Since it is your filial intention, I cannot refuse your request. I will grant it.”

Wei Zheng’s eyes lit up with pleasant surprise, and he couldn’t help but smile foolishly: “Thank you, Father Emperor, for your grace!”

There was not a trace of scheming in his smile. Seeing this, the old Emperor couldn’t help but feel that he had been overly cautious, having suspected his son just because his brain illness had cleared.

This son of his had been dim-witted for ten years, had no court officials backing him, no maternal family to aid him, and was merely a leisurely prince with an empty title—powerless, penniless, and under his constant surveillance and control. Besides relying on him as his only pillar of support, what kind of waves could he possibly stir up?

Having settled on this key point, the old Emperor set his mind at ease, and his attitude toward Wei Zheng became much warmer.

He patted Wei Zheng’s shoulder in reassurance, “Later, I will send Zhao Fu to have Noble Consort Xu’s tablet moved here. Until then, you must focus on recovering.”

Wei Zheng naturally nodded repeatedly, promising that he would certainly look after his health.

Pleased by his son’s obedience and docility, the old Emperor’s mood seemed much lighter as he and the head physician departed.

After he left, Wei Zheng immediately shed his “good son” facade, disdainfully stripping off the undergarment touched by the old Emperor and throwing it onto the floor.

Wei San walked in just then. Seeing the bundle of clothing on the ground, he didn’t ask a single unnecessary question. Instead, he bent down to pick it up and retrieved a fresh set from the wardrobe to help him change.

Wei Zheng spread his arms, lowering his gaze to look at the Death Soldier, who appeared to be performing a major life task with such seriousness. The stifling frustration in his heart gradually dissipated.

The Death Soldier, having unknowingly smoothed his master’s temper, sensed nothing. After securing his sash, he looked up: “Master, should I put on your outer robe?”

He thought quite simply that since the master was no longer pretending to be ill, perhaps there was no need to wear only the undergarment to maintain the appearance of being sick.

Wei Zheng did not answer; he treated his silence as assent. Just as Wei San turned half a step away to retrieve the robe, he saw Wei Zheng suddenly lean forward and wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him back.

“Master?”

Realizing he was trapped in Wei Zheng’s embrace, Wei San blinked in confusion.