96. A Favor for the Dazzling Swan in the Palm

“In that case, whatever crime His Majesty once assigned to the Pei family must now be assigned to the Nangong family,” Xu Chengzhen murmured quietly before the Jiuhua Gate, accompanied by Nian Shaoqing. Xu Chengzhen let out a barely audible chuckle. “The emperor’s favor is inscrutable.” The subtle implication was clear—partiality.

Nian Shaoqing raised an eyebrow in admiration. “The Crown Prince truly has great strategy. To think he devised a way to bind the Pei and Nangong families to the same fate. This way, His Majesty cannot allow the Song clan, the queen’s maternal family, to dominate alone; he must keep the Nangong family, even if only as a hollow shell, as a warning.”

Previously, Nian Shaoqing had harbored many grievances against the Crown Prince’s actions, but now he barely grasped the depth of the Crown Prince’s cunning—no less profound than that of the emperor or empress. Truly, a family of their own blood.

Xu Chengzhen gave a faint, cold laugh without confirming or denying. “Moreover, even if His Majesty were resolute enough to abandon the Nangong family rather than overturn the verdict against the Pei family, the Crown Prince would still have won. After all, the foundation that the Prince of Qi built over many years at court was originally accumulated with the support of the Nangong family.” The centuries-old Nangong family, head of the northern aristocracy, was not to be dismissed lightly.

Should the emperor refuse to topple the Nangong family, he would inevitably have to pull the Pei family out of the dark abyss of treason. If he wished the Crown Prince to grant the Princes of Qi and Wei a path to survival, he would tacitly accept Pei Jinghong as the legitimate daughter of the Pei family.

What Nian Shaoqing and Xu Chengzhen did not know was that this move—beneficial in every way without harm—was exactly the strategy proposed by Nangong Mingchen, the future head of the Nangong family, on behalf of Fu Lancheng.

Meanwhile, in a suburban villa outside the capital, when news of the emperor’s execution order reached them, Wen Zhi cursed fiercely in front of Qingyu and Pei Zhun, “That damned emperor is so biased.” Qingyu lowered her head silently.

“The way he treated our Pei family back then and now has an entirely different approach to the Nangong family—I simply cannot bear it,” Wen Zhi ranted, raising his long sword as if to strike down the so-called dog emperor. But then he remembered his “little master” and abruptly threw the sword aside.

The emperor’s recognition of Pei Jinghong’s identity was clearly meant to safeguard both the Nangong family and the Prince of Qi.

On the last day of March, the emperor issued two clear imperial edicts: the ban on the Marquis Wu Jing’s residence was lifted, and Pei Jinghong, as a female member of the Pei clan, was permitted to move into the marquisate.

After a decade away from the capital, the Marquis Wu Jing’s residence was finally restored, and with full legitimacy.

The emperor remained reticent about the events of years past, unwilling to speak further, but the edict explicitly stated that the Pei clan remained loyal and protective of the nation, and their noble title remained intact.

Such a simple sentence, decided in a moment of imperial thought, finally wiped away the Pei family’s decade-long stain of treason—a hard-won result achieved through the efforts of the Pei family’s old members, Fu Lancheng, and the distant Mu King.

Another edict declared: the respectful and diligent Marquis Nangong Mingchen would succeed to the title of Prince of Ningdu, taking charge of the Nangong family.

With Nangong Ping dead, and Nangong Cheng living quietly with Princess Roujia in the villa, indifferent to worldly affairs, only Nangong Mingchen remained capable of managing the clan. After this, the Nangong family retained only an empty title with no real power.

The day after the Prince of Qi returned to his fief, the emperor, attending morning court as usual, suddenly collapsed without warning upon hearing a minister’s report.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” the officials shouted anxiously, while the eunuch Yuan He wept and called out in alarm.

“Father!” Fu Lancheng hurried forward, steadying the emperor firmly. “Summon the imperial physicians at once!”

The imperial doctors knelt quickly, each taking the emperor’s pulse. They knew his frailty was grave and shrank back in fear, trembling.

From their demeanor, Fu Lancheng understood the emperor’s condition. Days of anxiety and sorrow had taken their toll. Yet the emperor was stubborn, refusing to reveal his weakness to the outside world.

The palace of Tai Ning, resplendent with gold and jade, seemed especially cold and heavy with gloom due to the emperor’s illness on that spring night.

“Yuan He, how many years have you served me?” the emperor asked weakly, propped against a golden dragon-embroidered silk pillow, his voice faint.

“Your Majesty, thirty-one years,” Yuan He replied cautiously, suppressing any hint of emotion.

“Do you remember how many years I have reigned?” The emperor’s mind was foggy; much had slipped from his memory.

Yuan He paused, counting carefully. “Your Majesty, twenty-five years.”

“Twenty-five years...” Time had aged him.

A full quarter-century had passed. He had sat upon the Dragon Throne for so long. His own father had ruled barely over a decade.

The youthful vigor of those early days was dead and gone. The moonlit rendezvous had faded. The fervent loyalty and passion had cooled in the lonely northern deserts. Even the oaths once sworn had been worn away by time, forgotten... Only this imperial power remained, cold and iron-like, dragging one down into its depths, impossible to escape.

The emperor coughed several more times. At that moment, a young eunuch entered to report that the Crown Prince had arrived. Coughing, the emperor propped himself up, the incense smoke drifting faintly in the chamber, blurring the spring sunlight.

Soon, the emperor saw the Crown Prince standing before him, expressionless, silent.

He raised a hand, intending to stroke the Crown Prince’s glossy black hair by his temple. Lying ill in bed, he deeply missed his son, yet Fu Lancheng remained unmoved.

So be it: he would pass the throne he had held all his life to his legitimate heir.

In the nineteenth year of Chengxiao, June, upon the imperial physicians’ advice, the emperor relocated to the northern gardens to recuperate. The Crown Prince assumed regency, managing military and state affairs.

As midsummer approached, the world’s fiercest prosperity could not compare to the passing of an era of imperial power.

Though the emperor lifted the ban on the Marquis Wu Jing’s residence, Pei Jinghong still lived within the Eastern Palace under Fu Lancheng’s protection. The emperor and empress sent envoys to inquire about her condition. Now, she had no memory of past events.

Several esteemed imperial doctors were powerless against her spiritless affliction. Though the emperor and empress bore heavy hearts, they were inwardly relieved.

What threat could a helpless, vacant girl pose to the imperial family and court? She was merely to be cared for in her remaining years.

The emperor found this arrangement satisfactory. Fu Lancheng had led troops, fought battles, and reconquered three northern prefectures. With military merit and prestige, he would not, like the emperor himself, be shackled by military power all his life.

Fu Lancheng was the legitimate prince, born of impeccable status, backed by the noble Changping Marquisate of a family of generals, and the influential Cao clan with disciples throughout the realm. He had both military and civil support.

As for minor flaws, the emperor trusted Fu Lancheng to handle them. The bloodline of the Fu family, once seated in that position, would naturally comprehend matters without guidance.

The emperor pondered: as long as Fu Lancheng did not act recklessly or neglect state affairs, reigning as a conservative monarch would suffice. If he applied himself diligently, he might even leave a respectable mark in history.

One day, when Grand Tutor Cao went to the northern gardens to pay respects, they conversed at length. Cao praised the Crown Prince’s regency as upright, resolute, and decisive—far surpassing his past self.

The emperor smiled faintly, though the news should have pleased him. Instead, he felt a pang of sorrow. He could not explain why, but it seemed that aside from reports on state matters, Fu Lancheng no longer shared anything of family with him.

Their once fraught father-son relationship had dwindled into a distant, proper sovereign-subject rapport. He had gained a worthy heir but ultimately lost a son.

Within Jiaxu Palace, the bustling preparations for the palace relocation were underway. The emperor wished for the Crown Prince to move back to Chenghua Palace.

To date, Fu Lancheng had no objections and entrusted Cheng Hewei and Lu Zhirou with the logistics. Everyone was busy, save for Pei Jinghong, who sat quietly in the Cold Spring Garden before a seven-string guqin, unearthed by palace attendants tidying the storage.

Though she could not yet play, Granny Wu noticed her interest and gave it to her to pass the time. When Fu Lancheng found Pei Jinghong in the rear hall, she was lost in thought, staring at the strings. Upon seeing him, she remained silent.

He had come straight from court, still clad in his bright yellow, gold-woven court robe, embroidered with dragons soaring to the heavens, mountains, rivers, sun and moon, rare beasts, and flowing waters. This heavy, intricate robe made the young heir appear even more tall, handsome, dignified, and resplendent.

Perhaps never having seen Fu Lancheng like this before, Pei Jinghong found herself momentarily captivated.

Fu Lancheng approached and gently took her hand, chiding, “It rained lightly this morning. Why are you dressed so lightly?”

Pei Jinghong disliked being touched by anyone except Fu Lancheng.

“I won’t wear more,” she pouted, knowing she had been scolded, turning her head stubbornly like a child sulking.

Fu Lancheng smiled and coaxed her, “Alright, alright, I was wrong. Don’t be angry.” Glancing at the guqin, he softly said, “Would you like to hear me play? I’ll play for you.”

At these words, Pei Jinghong immediately turned to him and nodded, obediently sitting on a small stool nearby. Fu Lancheng then removed his heavy robe and wrapped her in it.

Though Pei Jinghong’s memories were gone, her love of music endured.

Fu Lancheng tuned the strings and began to play softly. Pei Jinghong listened intently, unable to judge the quality, only feeling a rare sense of wonder.

Outside, the peach blossoms in Cold Spring Garden were just budding. The gentle notes flowing forth evoked a strange yet familiar image in her mind, as if it had once been hers.

On some year, some month, beneath a peach blossom tree, a handsome young master lightly plucked the strings, and the hall was filled with radiant splendor.

Gradually, overlapping scenes began to emerge in her mind.

As the Eastern Palace busied itself with the palace relocation, a clear, melodious guqin song drifted from Cold Spring Garden—bright, soothing, and delightful, compelling passersby to pause and savor it.

Lu Zhirou in Zhongnan Garden stopped her work and listened quietly. A palace maid beside her whispered, “Such beautiful music—aside from Lady Liang, only the Crown Prince himself could play like this.”

Lu Zhirou smiled softly. “Naturally, it is His Highness playing. The famed ‘Phoenix Seeks the Phoenix’ is no ordinary piece to perform.” Then she resumed tidying.

That same month, Fu Lancheng sent Wen Zhi on a mission to Lianzhou, thwarting Xu Yan’s intention to visit Guangling personally.

Thus, the Xu family in Lianzhou only knew that the Marquis Wu Jing’s residence had been reinstated after ten years, and a second young lady had been found—but they did not know that Pei Jinghong was actually Xu Guiyi.

However, the Prince Cheng’en’s mansion could not be kept in the dark. Yet Fu Lancheng had no intention of hiding the truth from them. Both Xu Da and Xu Chengzhen were intelligent and insightful, knowing what to reveal and what to avoid, always acting with prudence.