Chapter 185
Chapter 185
“Imperial Brother!” Shengsheng Zhou rose and hurried to greet him.
Weiqing Song paused.
The last time she had been this enthusiastic to see him, it was because of that bird.
“What happened?” Weiqing asked mildly, glancing at the palace attendants kneeling inside.
Of course he already knew. He had come precisely because he received the news.
Cui’er explained the situation in a few concise sentences. She neither embellished nor exaggerated anything, merely stated the facts.
Weiqing accepted a cup of tea and looked at Shengsheng. “What does Sheng’er think?”
Shengsheng glanced at the five people trembling on the floor and said, “They refuse to admit they abused the Ninth Prince, but they are far from innocent. Cui’er–”
Cui’er stepped forward at once. “Your Highness, the people this servant sent to investigate have reported back. The Ninth Prince’s rooms were empty, picked as ‘clean’ as though thieves had ransacked the place.”
She glanced at the maids and eunuchs who had gone limp with fear, then continued, “It has been confirmed that these five deceived and manipulated the young Ninth Prince, privately selling items from his palace outside the imperial compound. The corresponding receipts and money have already been found in their rooms.”
“Then have them flogged to death.” After delivering the sentence with airy indifference, Weiqing took an unhurried sip of tea.
Before the five could even cry out, people covered their mouths and dragged them away, their eyes filled with terror and despair.
Not one person present felt any sympathy for them.
Selling palace property was a capital offense.
Once everyone had left except for a few of Shengsheng’s trusted attendants, she asked, “Imperial Brother, then the person who abused the Ninth Prince…”
“Consort Rong,” Weiqing said with certainty.
Shengsheng understood at once.
Consort Rong was the Ninth Prince’s mother in name.
His birth mother had held too low a rank to be entitled to raise a child.
After her death, the Ninth Prince was adopted under Consort Rong’s name.
But the Emperor’s loathing for the boy directly caused Consort Rong to disregard him. She dumped him in the Princes’ Quarters and left him to fend for himself.
Consort Rong was young, at an age when she should have been in full bloom, yet the Emperor fell ill. To put it bluntly, how was her life any different from widowhood? Resentment and hatred could easily fester.
But she could not display those emotions openly.
And so… she vented all that hatred upon the son who was hers in name.
“I know you cannot swallow your anger. But Consort Rong’s ancestors were meritorious ministers who followed our imperial forefather in founding the nation. Their house has declined in recent years because of its useless descendants, but out of respect for our forefather, you cannot move against her lightly.”
Shengsheng was just about to frown when Weiqing continued, “Of course, *you* cannot move against her lightly. I can.”
Shengsheng’s eyes lit up. “Imperial Brother…”
“But what benefit will I receive for helping Sheng’er? Besides, why bother with the Ninth Prince? He was born at an unfortunate time. His life is destined to be troubled…”
“Imperial Brother.” Shengsheng cut him off.
Weiqing looked at her. Her pretty face held a rare expression of solemn sincerity. “You were born the Crown Prince, a cloud in the heavens. He carries Imperial Father’s blood just as you do, yet he lives like mud beneath your feet. You cannot truly share his suffering. I understand that.”
“But we are blood relatives. If I do not reach out and pull him free, he will spend his entire life trapped in the shadow of humiliation and hunger.”
“Imperial Brother, we are the children of the Son of Heaven, but we are also family.”
No one noticed that the Ninth Prince, who should have been sleeping in the inner chamber, was curled up behind the screen. Tears as large as beans streamed down his narrow chin, yet he clenched his teeth and made not a sound.
Weiqing Song’s fingers curled, then relaxed. As though reminded of something, he reached out and stroked Shengsheng Zhou’s head. “You’re right.”
“But even close brothers settle their accounts clearly. What benefit does Sheng’er plan to offer Imperial Brother?”
Shengsheng: “…”
*I give up. I was trying to play the family card, and you still haven’t forgotten about your reward?!*
Weiqing straightened his back. As if he did not know this little brat inside and out.
Out of options, Shengsheng wilted and asked, “What does Imperial Brother want?”
Weiqing answered without a moment’s thought. “The Eighth Prince’s birthday is in a few days. You never attended before because of your… illness. This will be a good opportunity to show your face, and you can go in my place while you’re at it.”
Only one person from the Empress’s side needed to attend.
As long as Shengsheng went, he could finish handling court affairs and spend the evening reading storybooks.
Jian Zhang had brought back a new book a few days ago. Weiqing had been thinking about it ever since, but he had not found the time to read it.
“That’s all?” Shengsheng asked in surprise.
Weiqing nodded. “What did you expect?”
“I figured you’d make me climb a mountain of blades, dive into a vat of boiling oil, and leave half my skin behind,” she muttered under her breath.
Unfortunately, Weiqing was sitting close enough to hear every word.
“How could I possibly bear to send Xiaohong up a mountain of blades or into boiling oil?” he teased.
It had been so long since she heard the name Xiaohong that Shengsheng did not react at first.
By the time she came back to herself, Weiqing had already left.
Shengsheng did not know how Weiqing dealt with the situation, but after every one of those palace attendants was flogged to death, Consort Rong did not ask a single question. No one even cared that the Ninth Prince stayed with Shengsheng for several days.
“Imperial Sister, I finished writing it.” The Ninth Prince held up the large characters he had written like a treasure, presenting them to Shengsheng with anticipation glimmering in his eyes.
The Ninth Prince’s name was Weihe Song. When Shengsheng asked if there was anything he wanted, he said he wished to read and learn to write.
Though surprised by his maturity, Shengsheng granted his wish.
By rights, a child his age should already have been studying at the Imperial Academy. But he was an unfavored prince, so naturally no one had brought it up. While Shengsheng was chatting with Imperial Father, she casually mentioned it.
The Emperor knew that Shengsheng had recently brought the Ninth Prince into her palace.
He understood her little scheme as soon as she raised the subject. It was hardly a matter of great importance, so he agreed.
Delighted, Shengsheng told Imperial Father several more jokes to amuse him. Only after he grew tired and fell asleep did she return to her own palace.
“Oh, Xiaohe, this is excellent. Cui’er, look. Isn’t it even better than this princess’s handwriting?”
Cui’er leaned over for a look and thought that it truly was.
Compared with the princess’s somewhat horrifying calligraphy, the Ninth Prince’s writing was excellent.
Naturally, she could not say that aloud.
“This servant finds it excellent indeed. It has the same strength of character as Your Highness’s calligraphy.”
Welcome to *Language Is an Art*.
Shengsheng naturally knew Cui’er was spouting nonsense. If anyone insisted on finding strength of character in her awful handwriting, it would only be the sort Fusheng Duan once described: even a dog holding a brush in its mouth could write better than she did.
But who did not enjoy praise? Seeing how happy the Ninth Prince was to be told his writing resembled Imperial Sister’s, Shengsheng stroked his head.
After several days of Shengsheng’s careful feeding and care, the child already looked much healthier than before.
Most importantly, Shengsheng noticed that his brows and eyes actually resembled Imperial Father’s.
Put the two of them together, and anyone could tell they were father and son.
“Oh, Cui’er, go fasten his cloak.”
Shengsheng issued the instruction as she watched the delighted Ninth Prince run off, declaring that he would practice a little longer.