Chapter 10
Chapter 10
And Zhao Ling?
Forget it.
Song Youshu had once been someone he cherished in the palm of his hand. She had been carrying his child, and still he had watched, unmoved, as she died.
What virtue or ability did I possess that could make such a coldhearted man stand up for me?
Hu Minrong was destined to die tonight.
I slowly closed my eyes, then opened them again with absolute resolve.
They had driven me to this point. If I had to die, then I would drag someone down with me.
Even if I could not kill Zhao Cui, I would use every last bit of strength I had to gouge out his eyes and tear open his throat with my teeth.
At Prince Liang’s Mansion.
When Zhao Cui pushed the door open and entered, I called him Uncle Prince Liang in a gentle voice.
The man, his face covered in coarse, heavy flesh, flashed a brief gleam of delight in his murky eyes before breaking into a lecherous grin. “Good girl. I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses. Zhao Ling is nothing but a useless wretch, a wet-behind-the-ears boy who can’t even protect his own woman. Why waste your life on him?”
“As long as you’re willing to follow me, I can give you anything. No matter how this empire changes hands, Minrong, your position of honor will remain unchanged.”
“Uncle Prince Liang, do you mean that?”
“Of course. My word is as good as gold. With beauty enough to shame the moon and flowers, Minrong, how could I possibly bear to let you go?”
Zhao Cui looked me up and down with lust in his eyes, one hand sliding to my waist.
I pushed him away at just the right moment. “Why the rush, Uncle Prince Liang? I am covered in dust and have yet to bathe and change.”
I had thought I would die that night.
But I had not expected Zhao Ling to personally lead the palace attendants and come in imperial procession to Prince Liang’s Mansion.
When the commotion sounded outside, I heard him say respectfully to Prince Liang:
“Thank you for entertaining the Empress, Royal Uncle. We have come to bring her back to the palace.”
When I walked out, my steps were still weak and unsteady.
The Empress of Great Wei had just bathed at Prince Liang’s Mansion. She had not even managed to put on her shoes, wearing only a thin inner robe, her long hair hanging wet and loose, her eyes rimmed red and her lips bloodless.
The solitary Empress, the utterly wretched Hu Minrong, was wrapped in Zhao Ling’s greatcloak and lifted into his arms.
Later, I asked him, “Your Majesty, why did you save me, even at the risk of making Prince Liang hate you?”
He lowered his eyes to look at me, laughter layered deep within them. “In Rong’er’s heart, what sort of man am I?”
He called me Rong’er. Later, he would even call me Little Rong’er.
A year later, I gave birth to his eldest imperial daughter-Princess Heqing.
Seas calm and rivers clear; seasons harmonious and harvests abundant.
A bright and open world, all things at peace.
That was the vision we both revered.
What sort of man was he?
He was Zhao Ling, Emperor Jingwen of Great Wei. He ascended the throne at sixteen, hid his strength and bided his time, endured humiliation and burdens in silence. After five years, at last, on the day of the altar sacrifice to Heaven, he rallied the former vice director of Prince Yi’s Residence and gathered a righteous army from among the common people to strike down an unrighteous ruler.
He won. But restoring imperial power was a long and arduous road.
With Prince Liang dead, the other imperial clan princes still refused to relinquish power.
As for that cousin-uncle Xu Xun, he swiftly transferred his allegiance to Prince Huai’an. My father was already the Duke of Jin, and my maternal Xu family had gathered power into their own hands. The man known as Xu Jinjun kept tens of thousands of private soldiers.
Though Prince Liang was dead, they still could not be touched.
Only Zhao Ling and I knew how perilous the plan to execute Prince Liang had truly been.
If Zhao Cui had not died, then Zhao Ling would have-sliced by a thousand cuts, his body torn to pieces.
That day, he had even made every preparation for defeat.
Before he left, he held Heqing, who had just turned one month old. All the sharpness in his brows and eyes had softened into tenderness.
He said to me, “If I lose, take her back to the Hu Family and beg your father for protection. Even a tiger does not eat its own cubs. He will leave a path of survival for you mother and daughter.”