Three days later, Cui Jinyi, the Minister of Dali Si, personally delivered the case regarding Yichun Lefang to the residence of the Grand Princess.

It turned out that the son of Minister Liu was notoriously indulgent.

Before visiting the pleasure house, he had already entertained two favored concubines at home, and upon seeing the alluring performers at the Lefang, he lost control.

The cause of death was “sudden illness,” colloquially known as “sudden misfortune” in the marketplace.

Such sordid words could never be written in the official documents that might tarnish the Grand Princess’s eyes.

Xuan Mingzhu only needed to know that the life taken had nothing to do with Yichun Lefang, and she could finally rest easy.

Before leaving, Minister Cui made a point to say that this case was resolved within three days entirely due to the efforts of Mei Shaoqing(Heting).

Xuan Mingzhu’s reaction was rather muted; she simply acknowledged it as expected.

As soon as the Minister departed, the emperor’s second decree arrived.

Not only had Xuan Mingzhu failed to heed the imperial command to “reflect in solitude,” but she had also taken a public carriage and interfered with official investigations.

In the emperor’s eyes, this was akin to openly defying imperial authority.

The young emperor, evidently furious, used the term “arrogant and presumptuous” in the edict, punishing her with a year’s salary reduction and banning her from public outings.

Xuan Mingzhu calmly received the decree.

Huang Fuquan, delivering the emperor’s words, added, “His Majesty also mentioned that the Empress Dowager is ill. If the Grand princess still has any conscience, it would be good for her to spare some time to visit her.”

The Empress Dowager in question was Xuan Mingzhu’s own maternal aunt, and the emperor’s great-aunt.

Xu Mingzhu took the veiled sarcasm in the message in stride, nodding in acceptance before preparing to enter the palace.

“Princess,” Cheng’er asked cautiously, “since the emperor has limited your public outings, what carriage will you prepare?”

“Just use the oil-green carriage.”

Xu Mingzhu was not flustered at all; on the contrary, her complexion was rosy, highlighted by the red birthmark between her brows.

A playful smile graced her lips. “Let him save face.”

By the time Mei Heting returned to the residence upon hearing of the emperor’s anger, Xuan Mingzhu had already left for the palace.

He stood in the empty sleeping chamber, the only scent lingering in the air was the faint fragrance left by her.

It felt as though Xuan Mingzhu had said something that night, something that made him doubt whether it had truly happened or if it had merely been a dream.

He still suspected that he had misunderstood her that night.

In reality, Xuan Mingzhu could not possibly regard him with such detachment, nor would she absurdly mention the phrase “let it go.”

She had been the one to insist on marrying him, and she had spent years trying to bind him to her; how could they possibly “let it go” after all this time?

Yet, the inner turmoil he felt could fool others, but it could not deceive himself.

Xuan Mingzhu had indeed changed in ways he couldn’t ignore.

Mei Heting furrowed his brows in confusion, pausing in silence for a moment before turning to the stables to grab a swift horse, racing toward the imperial city.

Xuan Mingzhu did not first go to Zhongyu Palace but instead arrived at the side hall of the Tai Chi Palace in the West Inner Court, where the emperor handled affairs after court.

At the foot of the red stairs stood the Silver Armored Guards.

Upon seeing the Grand Princess, adorned in splendid red palace attire and accompanied by four handmaidens, they felt her back was clearly stiff.

— Regardless of the emperor’s attitude, they could not afford to offend either side, so they dared not report or stop her.

Xuan Mingzhu, understanding their hesitation, said, “I have come to plead for forgiveness from His Majesty. You may go and announce my arrival. If His Majesty is too busy, I will not impose.”

The inner attendant complied and soon returned, inviting the Grand Princess into the hall.

Xuan Mingzhu ascended the stairs calmly, her hairpin adorned with eight treasures shimmering in the bright sunlight, and the tassels of gold glittered like scattered diamonds.

Her skirt billowed like a blooming red lotus, adding a vivid splash of color to the solemn palace.

Elders among the inner attendants spoke of how during the reign of Emperor Jinming, he doted on Princess Zhao Le, often bestowing her with red gold garments and fine horses, making the palace and court open to her whims.

At that time, this favored daughter of heaven was proud and beautiful, unmatched in the harem.

There was a saying in the palace: if you were walking through the gardens and suddenly saw a flash of red, it was neither blooming peonies nor brilliant clouds in the sky, but Princess Zhao Le riding out for a stroll!

After the Grand Princess married into the Mei family, no other princess dared to ride past the Dragon Wall dressed in red.

Not long after, Emperor Jinming passed away, and the solemn palace returned to its usual oppressive state.

In the side hall, the young eunuchs attending felt the emperor’s mood darken noticeably upon hearing that the Grand Princess had come to see him.

Everyone held their breath, trembling as the emperor waved them away.

On the Huangli table outside, incense was burning in a golden basin.

Xuan Mingzhu entered the hall, stood still, and performed a shallow bow.

As she straightened and was about to speak, the young emperor quickly walked a few steps forward, greeting her with the respect due to an elder: “Auntie, you’ve finally come!”

Xuan Mingzhu looked at the not-yet-adult Xuan Changci, her eyes dancing with amusement, trying not to smile.

“The birthday banquet was too extravagant, hmm? A year’s salary was deducted from my jade carriage, hmm? His Majesty has grown quite bold.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” the emperor replied, his face full of grievance, instantly losing the imposing demeanor of a decisive ruler.

“It’s because my aunt taught me to perform fully, fearing that the old ministers would suspect something. I felt so pained while issuing the decree…”

Xuan Mingzhu wanted to tease him a bit more, but upon seeing the redness in the emperor’s eyes, she scolded, “A ruler of a nation should not act like a woman crying and whining; what kind of demeanor is that!”

The emperor sniffled, his eyes growing even redder. “Auntie’s illness… I heard from Yingxiao early this morning and was worried sick, regretting that I couldn’t see you to offer some warmth. Rest assured, even if I gather all the strength from across the seas and the nine provinces, I will surely cure you!”

The late empress dowager had passed away early.

Xuan Changci, during his time in the Eastern Palace, was closest to this unrestrained aunt, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he was raised by her.

How could he possibly become estranged from his aunt over a fourth imperial uncle related only by blood?

The rebellion of the fourth imperial uncle had been real, and the aunt’s desire to protect him was also real; their discord was false.

The old ministers of the three provinces had been entrenched for many years, their power solid, and as the late emperor lay dying, he had grasped Xuan Changci’s hand and warned him that the old ministers might not have treacherous intentions but could have designs to control the young ruler, advising him to be cautious.

His aunt had also advised him that, being young and inexperienced, he might be deceived by power-hungry schemers.

Thus, they devised this “suspicious edict scheme,” with the aunt taking on the role of the villain, pretending to be somewhat distant from him.

This way, if any royal officials harbored dissent against the new emperor, they could unite with the Grand Princess in secret and expose them; additionally, they could observe the court’s movements more keenly, adjusting their responses as needed.

It was only a pity for his aunt.

“Your Highness, His Majesty’s intentions are truly sincere; he is worried about you.”

Hong’er spoke softly, “I heard from Sister Yingxiao that upon learning of this matter, His Majesty couldn’t eat or sleep well, using the illness of the empress dowager as an excuse to post a royal edict outside the palace to summon renowned physicians from across the land. Your Highness, please be at ease; with His Majesty’s blessings, you will surely recover.”

Xuan Mingzhu had come for this very reason.

Those doctors summoned to the palace were not there to attend to the empress dowager but to her.

Grateful for the emperor’s sincere concern, Xuan Mingzhu felt comforted and skipped further pleasantries, heading toward Zhongyu Palace.

As she left, she didn’t forget to wear an angry expression.

Meanwhile, the emperor, in the hall, smashed a few teacups, before taking a moment and then visiting the empress dowager in Zhongyu Palace.

After all, they had to maintain appearances.

Few knew of their true relationship; besides the emperor and the Grand Princess’s trusted aides, the empress dowager was one of them.

Later, there was one more person who knew about it: Mei Heting.

Had it not been for the fact that he was present when the empress dowager was scheming, the emperor would have thought that this plot, veiled in secrecy, was devised by Mei Heting himself.

After all, Mei Heting had served as a mentor to the emperor for a year during his time in the Hanlin Academy, teaching him the first treatise of Han Feizi, “The Seven Strategies of Internal Storage.”

In his youth, the emperor had often accompanied his grandfather to palace banquets, mingling with many talented youths.

Among them, only Mei Heting, with his refined demeanor, seemed worthy of possessing the world’s most precious gem.

“How did it come to this?” the young emperor sighed with worry.

Not to mention, it seemed that the prince consort was still unaware of the princess’s illness; if it were him, he would feel heartbroken.

The emperor arrived at the Chongyu Palace, where dozens of physicians awaited outside.

Upon seeing his majesty, they knelt in reverence.

The emperor, in a very approachable manner, allowed everyone to rise, promising that whoever could cure the empress dowager’s ailment would receive a reward of a thousand gold.

Inside the hall, layers of gauzy blue curtains hung down, obscuring the figure within.

A delicate wrist wrapped in white silk could be seen extending from the drapery.

At the front of the curtain sat a high-backed chair, where a middle-aged doctor with a square cap and a fair complexion was earnestly feeling the pulse of the noblewoman.

The emperor took quiet steps, signaling the physician to continue without rising for greeting.

After a moment of waiting, he couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer and asked, “Can my… empress dowager recover from this ‘blood deficiency’?”

“What? Blood deficiency?!”

The esteemed physician from Fanyang was taken aback.

The noblewoman’s pulse clearly indicated a deficiency of blood and a surge of liver yang, which could be regulated with a couple of doses of medicine—how could there be talk of blood deficiency?

The physician, surnamed Yu, thought quickly: if the court physicians diagnosed it as such, then it was likely he had missed something in his assessment.

To ensure his own safety, he bravely inquired about the medication the noblewoman was currently taking.

Upon reviewing it, he discovered it was indeed a formula intended to alleviate blood deficiency.

If this prescription were taken by someone without the illness, it could lead to vomiting blood and, in the long run, no remedy would suffice.

Thus, it was evident that the noblewoman was indeed seriously ill.

Blood deficiency and blood deficiency syndrome were somewhat similar, but cases of the latter were rare, and he had not encountered many, so it was understandable he hadn’t diagnosed it at first.

Physician nnYu, now covered in a cold sweat, was relieved that he had kept silent earlier; otherwise, he would have faced severe consequences.

He bowed deeply to the emperor and the draped figure, humbly shaking his head, “I am incompetent; please forgive me, Your Majesty.”

The emperor’s heart sank.

Unwilling to accept defeat, he summoned another physician.

This doctor recognized the esteemed Physician Yu Qingming and thought to himself, if even the renowned Yu cannot cure this illness, how can I?

After nervously examining the pulse, he concluded that it was merely a case of insufficient qi and blood, easily treated with a standard prescription.

However, if it were that simple, why would Yu not take action?

The more he thought about it, the more suspicious he became.

He feigned a troubled expression, shook his head, and withdrew.

One after another, these physicians were either intimidated by the imperial authority, misled by their peers, or thought that the noblewoman’s delicate hand, peeking from the curtain, appeared far too youthful to belong to the empress dowager, leading them to speculate about palace intrigues, causing them to withdraw.

The emperor’s expression grew darker with each physician’s exit.

Finally, when the last physician made his excuses and left, the emperor could no longer restrain himself and kicked over the high-backed chair.

“All that answered the summons are quacks! Find someone else! I refuse to believe that there is no one in this realm who can cure her!”

“Your Majesty,” Xuan Mingzhu said as she parted the blue silk curtains, looking at him gently, “Auntie has known all along.”

The grand gestures of past years, when the late emperor sought miraculous treatments for the empress, brought little solace; she had seen her mother leave her side.

The reason she had consented to put up the public notice, gathering so many doctors, was twofold: to express the emperor’s filial piety and, equally, to harbor her own last flicker of hope.

If she could survive, who would choose death?

She was most reluctant to part with little Baoya.

Now, she no longer needed to cling to unrealistic expectations.

“Remember what the Empress said? She stated that I sought treatment to restore my health for the purpose of bearing more children. It would be embarrassing to borrow her name. Please do not let this leak, for her sake.”

The emperor could not remain as calm as she; his aunt had cared for him since childhood and was like a second mother to him.

He watched as Hong’er brought over a bowl of prepared medicine, personally taking it in hand, serving it to his aunt one spoonful at a time, his throat tightening ever so slightly.

“Are you truly not going to inform the prince consort?”

Xuan Mingzhu used a handkerchief to dab at the corner of her lips. “He will soon no longer be the prince consort.”

The words were like thunder on a clear day, and the emperor stared blankly for a moment. “Auntie, could it be that you want to… divorce?”

“Ha,” Xuan Mingzhu chuckled lightly, “how could that be?”

The emperor thought for a moment and realized she was right.

His aunt had deep feelings for Prince Mei, and with her cousin Baoya in the picture, how could she bear to leave him?

However, this prince was too inattentive and unreasonable toward her; he would have to find an opportunity to give him a good talking-to.

Just as he felt some relief, he heard Xuan Mingzhu continue with a leisurely tone:

“Historically, when royal princesses have unsatisfactory marriages, they only seek divorce, never separation.”