Four Seasons Brocade – CH 228

Chapter 228 ☆、

“But…” Ah Wu still could not believe that the late Empress would be willing to commit suicide at the last moment; after all, she was a woman too. But Ah Wu herself had never had a child in either of her lives, so she was somewhat uncertain.

Chu Mao gently kissed Ah Wu’s forehead, remaining silent, looking into her eyes, and wondering if a woman did not love a man, would she be so cold-blooded and heartless?

Ah Wu felt somewhat at a loss under Chu Mao’s gaze, as if his eyes had become two ancient wells, eerily sinister.

“Your Highness,” Ah Wu said, crossing her arms over her shoulders. Her skin, exposed above the water’s surface, felt a chill run down her spine under Chu Mao’s gaze.

Ah Wu watched Chu Mao raise his hand, feeling his fingers gently caress her face, from her eyebrows to her nose, to her lips, chin, and finally her neck. Chu Mao’s palm was broad, his fingers strong. Ah Wu trembled slightly, feeling that if Chu Mao’s hand on her neck were to squeeze even lightly, she could hear the sound of her throat bursting.

Chu Mao lowered his head and gently brushed his lips against Ah Wu’s, then said with a sigh, “Ah Wu, if you were the late Empress, would you have done what she did?”

Ah Wu had never considered this question before, but Chu Mao’s question made her think in that direction, and the answer was naturally no. In Ah Wu’s heart, the late Empress Yuan Yiwei was incredibly foolish. Not only did she suffer a pointless death, but she also ruined her family, and it was very likely that her beloved would not have a good ending either.

It must be said that Ah Wu had some insight, and more importantly, she was a pragmatist. In her view, her uncle, the Longqing Emperor, and Chu Mao were both innocent in this matter. If the late Empress could not forget her beloved, why did she enter the palace? Why did she not just commit suicide at home to preserve her innocence and avoid hurting so many people? But since she entered the palace, she was willing to sacrifice for her family, yet she wavered between love and kinship, ultimately suffering a complete defeat.

No wonder her princess mother from her previous life looked down on the late Empress, always snorting at her name.

“I would not do that. If I were her, having entered the palace and made my move, I would naturally strive for a complete victory.” The palace had no place for such ridiculous sentimentality and love.

“How would you win?” Chu Mao seemed somewhat interested in hearing what Ah Wu had to say.

“Naturally, first, secure the Emperor’s favor, bear a son, and protect her family. Although difficult, given the Emperor’s high regard for her, protecting her beloved should not be too difficult. And one day, when she becomes Empress Dowager, if she truly misses that person, it’s not impossible…” Ah Wu’s voice trailed off in Chu Mao’s eyes.

Chu Mao chuckled sarcastically, “You really dare to think that way.”

Ah Wu did not think she was wrong. Many empress dowagers throughout history had male favorites. Her mistake was simply speaking out. Ah Wu pouted, “Of course I would not do that. I was just going along with Your Highness’s suggestion, imagining things for the late Empress.” Ah Wu felt no guilt whatsoever. She was disgusted by matters of the flesh, and the idea of ​​keeping male favorites was something she would not even consider.

But Chu Mao was not a mind reader; how could he truly see into her heart? And even if he did, he might not believe it.

Ah Wu felt uneasy under Chu Mao’s silent gaze and could not help but ask, “Your Highness, if you were the Emperor, what would you have done to the late Empress?”

Chu Mao gently stroked Ah Wu’s back. What would he have done?

“I will force you to have a child too,” Chu Mao said, looking at Ah Wu. He could not tolerate other women, yet he needed a son. “However, I will not have other concubines, and I will not let them have a chance to harm you. I absolutely cannot let you die, Ah Wu.”

Ah Wu was terrified by Chu Mao’s words, a chill running down her spine. Although his words sounded affectionate, his gaze and tone were terrifying, filling her with a fear that while she might escape death, she was doomed. “Your Highness, what are you doing? I am not talking about me; I am asking you to imagine the Emperor and the late Empress’s affair.”

“Hmm.” Chu Mao raised his hand to brush the damp hair clinging to Ah Wu’s forehead.

Ah Wu guiltily recalled her feelings for Tang Xiujin from years ago. She secretly rejoiced that she had not fallen too deeply in love and that Tang Xiujin had married Gu Xihui instead.

“But Your Highness, I do not think you would act like the Emperor. Even if something like that happened, you would not treat your child like that,” Ah Wu tried a different approach to appease Chu Mao.

Chu Mao looked into Ah Wu’s large, watery eyes, shimmering with light. Just seeing her every day was enough for him. But the thought of losing her because of that child was something he could not even bear to imagine.

“It did not happen. I cannot say what I would do then.” Chu Mao’s voice was slightly hoarse.

“Alright, alright,” Ah Wu said, seemingly trying to avoid discussing the matter further with Chu Mao. She felt it was pointless to be playing this “putting yourself in someone else’s shoes” game with Chu Mao when there were so many other things to think about. “Your Highness, will the Emperor believe that Consort Xiang killed the late Empress?”

Chu Mao did not speak, but Ah Wu understood. He must be confident; otherwise, he would not have waited until now to act, waiting for Yuan Rongmeng to become pregnant so that Consort Xiang could be provoked and the sheguocao could be arranged. Ah Wu believed Consort Xiang on this point; the sheguocao this time was probably not her doing.

Yuan Rongmeng had indeed crossed Chu Mao’s line, so he showed no mercy. Ah Wu suddenly felt a chill down her spine. If she were to make a mistake one day, would Chu Mao act just as swiftly and decisively?

“Who will the Emperor send to investigate?” Ah Wu asked curiously again; she had this habit.

“The Emperor naturally has trustworthy people around him,” Chu Mao said.

“But if they could not find anything back then, how could they find out now that so much time has passed…” Ah Wu was puzzled.

“Back then, he had already decided in his heart that the late Empress had committed suicide, so naturally, he was not genuinely investigating. His subordinates, being the most astute, would not dare interfere. But now it’s different. Wang Xiaohu and Nanny She are the missing links from the beginning; one of them will reveal the whole story.” Chu Mao squeezed Ah Wu’s hand. “We should not interfere in this matter anymore; let’s wait for news.”

As Chu Mao predicted, less than ten days later, an imperial decree arrived from Qingxi Study. Consort Xiang was sentenced to death with a white silk ribbon for plotting against Pure Consort, and the Earl of Huating’s Xiang family was stripped of their title and had their property confiscated for abusing power, accepting bribes, and being arrogant and domineering. The men of the Xiang family were exiled, while the women and children were sold off.

This was all on the surface. In reality, shortly after the Xiang family was exiled, it was said that they encountered bandits on the road, and none survived. This excuse was rather lame; who would rob exiled people?

The Xiang family, which had dominated the capital for over twenty years, vanished in an instant.

Meanwhile, the Sixth Prince, Chu Yu, remained under house arrest in the Prince Wei’s residence, having instantly transformed from a highly sought-after heir apparent into an unwanted figurehead.

In the seventh month, the capital experienced several days of rain, and today a fierce wind blew, the raindrops splashing up white sprays a foot high, wave after wave.

Not a single pedestrian was on the road; everyone was grateful to be able to stay home that day.

At the foot of Qingliang Mountain, the teahouse owner bustled back and forth in his small shed, carrying wooden basins and pouring out rainwater leaking from the cracks in the roof.

A cool breeze was blowing outside, but the innkeeper was still drenched in sweat. He took a basin of water to pour it out and saw a group of people approaching on the road. They were all wearing straw hats, raincoats, and oiled boots. Judging from their gait—not in a hurry to get out of the rain, but walking with their heads held high as if it were sunny—the innkeeper knew they were no ordinary people.

Seeing that they walked with their right hands on their hips, based on the innkeeper’s experience of over a decade at the foot of Qingliang Mountain, only palace guards had that kind of air. This group surrounded a small sedan chair, obscuring its entrance.

There was only one nunnery on the mountainside in this direction of Qingliang Mountain. What were these people doing going to a nunnery in such heavy rain? Ma Xiao’er muttered but dared not follow them to see.

The front of Qingliang Mountain was dotted with the villas of princes and ministers, but in the hearts of the locals, the most beautiful scenery lay in the back mountain. So, Ma Xiao’er set up a small teahouse there to earn a meager living.

Although people had flocked to the back mountain of Qingliang Mountain since the beginning of spring, Ma Xiao’er had never seen such a large and imposing group of people in over a decade.

The tightly closed gates of the nunnery halfway up the back mountain slowly opened. If Ma Xiao’er had seen it, he would have been astonished. Although the nunnery was built beside the most scenic Yuquan Waterfall, its gates were always tightly shut, refusing to receive even worshippers.

After the gates opened, the group of men in straw raincoats carried a sedan chair inside and placed it in the main hall.

If others had seen it, they would have been even more puzzled: instead of Buddha or Bodhisattva statues, the nunnery’s main hall contained a crystal coffin in the center. A red silk ribbon draped over the crystal coffin. The person in the sedan chair stepped out, and though it was only three steps away, the person took a full incense stick’s time to approach.

The person slowly raised their hand from beneath their sleeve and placed it on the coffin. The hand was as thin as skin and bones, the back of which was covered in wrinkles and brown spots.

When the red silk was lifted, the person inside the crystal coffin was revealed. The person in the coffin was lifelike; even with their eyes closed, their face was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Ah Wei,” the person softly called to the person in the coffin, lowering their head to rest against the coffin, facing the person within. “For so many years, I have not dared to come to see you. I thought you would not want to see me; I did not even dare to die.”

Hot tears fell onto the coffin, making soft “pat-pat” sounds. “I misunderstood you, Ah Wei. I will be with you soon, but look how old I’ve become, while you are still so young. When you see me again, you certainly will not recognize me. Will you forgive me?”

The old man murmured as if in a dream, “Do not blame me. You have not found Dong Hao down there all these years, have you? I did not kill him, Ah Wei. I was afraid that if I killed him, you would not forgive me in the next life. I also have a selfish wish: in the next life, I want to know you before him, so I did not let him go down.”

The old man became unsteady and slid down against the crystal coffin, still muttering, but what he was saying could no longer be understood.

Inside the Western Garden, Ah Wu looked out the window. All she saw was a vast expanse of white. Chu Mao rushed in and said to Ah Wu, “Sixth Prince committed suicide at Prince Wei’s residence.”