Four Seasons Brocade – CH 264

Chapter 264 ☆、

Chu Mao waved his hand, signaling He Nianfang to stop talking. “I know a way to extract heart’s blood without harming the patient.”

“I beg Your Majesty, you must not risk your sacred body! This old minister has practiced medicine for many years and has never heard of heart’s blood being able to save a life. I implore Your Majesty to execute this sorcerer, lest he mislead Your Majesty and allow treacherous people to profit.” He Nianfang kowtowed to the ground.

Lu Ruoxing and the other servants around him knelt and kowtowed, saying, “Your Majesty, please take care of your health. The millions of people under Heaven still rely on Your Majesty’s care. Your Majesty must not disregard your sacred body. We beg Your Majesty to rescind your decree.”

Ah Wu gazed at Chu Mao from afar, her eyes welling up with tears. She and Chu Mao had been husband and wife for so many years; there were some things she could not understand, but she still knew some of his habits. For him to say such things meant he had already made up his mind.

Ah Wu shook her head violently at Chu Mao, but he could not see her. Ah Wu reached out to pull Chu Mao, but her hand passed right through his body.

Chu Mao stood up and walked towards the inner palace, seemingly considering He Nianfang’s and the others’ words. But when he reached the inner room, Ah Wu saw him grab a sheathed knife from beside the kang table, pull open his robe, and stab himself.

Upon seeing Chu Mao’s blood, Ah Wu only managed a scream before fainting.

Whether it was truly the divine intervention of the dragon’s blood or just pure luck, Ah Wu certainly regained her senses.

“Your Majesty, you are awake! You are finally awake!” Ming-Xin and her four maids wept with joy, immediately sending someone to report to Qian Yuan Palace.

“Quickly, go tell Eunuch Lu that Her Majesty the Empress has awakened,” Ming-Xin said.

Ah Wu, still weak from just waking, drank some soup to soothe her aching stomach. She sat silently on the bed, her mind preoccupied with Chu Mao’s situation, unable to ask.

Ah Wu had never seriously managed Chang Le Palace; it was probably all Chu Mao’s spies. Ah Wu could not soften her stance even slightly; she could not give Chu Mao even the slightest hope when she knew it was hopeless.

The only thing Ah Wu could do for him was to eat and drink well, hoping to live a couple more years.

Therefore, since waking up, Ah Wu had forced herself to eat every day. Besides managing palace affairs so Chu Mao could leave the inner palace unattended, she even copied scriptures for the Princess to burn. She dared not beg for repayment in the next life, only hoping her mother would never again encounter such an unfilial daughter.

In the Qian Yuan Hall, Chu Mao, despite his injuries, was already receiving ministers and reviewing memorials.

Lu Ruoxing was both anxious and heartbroken, but he understood that what the Emperor needed was not his concern and anxiety but rather the person far away in Chang Le Palace.

But that person’s heart was too cruel. The Emperor risked his life to save her, yet she was so heartless and cold-blooded that she did not even offer a word of concern. She ate and slept well every day, utterly heartless.

As for Ah Wu, even the maids serving her could not bear it anymore. “Your Majesty, I heard that His Majesty had a high fever again last night. Would you like to go to Qian Yuan Palace to see him?” Ming-Xin asked timidly.

Ah Wu stopped writing and glanced at Ming-Xin. “Who gave you the audacity to inquire about the Emperor’s whereabouts?”

“This servant…” Ming-Xin quickly knelt.

“Does your mistress have the right to decide what she wants to do? If you cannot stay in Chang Le Palace, I will have Lu Ruoxing come and take you away,” Ah Wu said coldly.

“This servant deserves to die; this servant deserves to die,” Ming-Xin kowtowed repeatedly, her heart filled with anger and coldness at her mistress’s indifference.

“Considering this is your first offense, kneel outside the palace gates for an hour,” Ah Wu said, picking up her pen again.

Ming-Xin thanked her and withdrew.

Ah Wu then slumped weakly onto the prayer mat. During the years at the Prince Qi’s mansion, Chu Mao had never been ill, but ever since he had his heart’s blood drawn, his injury had never fully healed, and this was his second fever.

Ah Wu only hoped that Chu Mao would finally wake up from this fever, see clearly what a despicable person she was, and sever their entanglement.

As for whether Chu Mao truly could not see Ah Wu’s character, he probably saw it more clearly than anyone else. He had tasted all the flavors of life with Ah Wu—sour, sweet, bitter, spicy—but the sweetness was exceptionally rare and fleeting. Looking back, it seemed to be mixed with deception and trickery.

Yet Chu Mao still found it sweet, unable to let go, unable to sever ties. Even with the bitterness, spiciness, sourness, and saltiness, there was still flavor in his heart, something more precious than cold indifference and numbness.

For Chu Mao, Ah Wu was the one who gave his days their vibrant colors. She might be ruthless enough to make one grit their teeth, but only she could move his heart.

What kind of ill-fated relationship was this? Chu Mao himself could not explain it, but at least for now, he did not want to let go.

Chu Mao knew Ah Wu’s temper. He had forced her to do such a thing; if she did not hold a grudge for three to five years, would she still be Ah Wu? He remembered how he had endured the early days of their marriage.

Ah Wu was naturally a bit slow to warm up.

Emperor Jiahe comforted himself with these thoughts.

Inside the Qian Yuan Palace, Chu Mao, feverish and slightly dizzy, coughed a few times to wake up and called out, “Lu Ruoxing.”

“Your Majesty,” Lu Ruoxing knelt before the bed, “Grand Secretaries Tang and Rong have both submitted petitions, wishing to come and comfort Your Majesty.” Lu Ruoxing felt a deep pang of heartache for Chu Mao. The Emperor was ill, and only his ministers thought to visit him. He was now an orphan; even his only aunt, Nanny Hao, had passed away. His wife and brothers had not even offered to come, perhaps even wishing he were gone.

Thinking of this, Lu Ruoxing began to wipe away tears.

“Why are you crying?” Chu Mao leaned weakly against the bed. “Who else has come?”

Lu Ruoxing naturally knew who the Emperor was asking about. But even the Empress had not come on the day the Emperor had his heart cut out; why would she come now? Yet Lu Ruoxing dared not utter a sound, only kneeling with his head bowed. “Your Majesty, it’s time for the medicine.”

“Bring it in,” Chu Mao’s voice was weak.

Chu Mao’s illness fueled the rumors of discord between the Emperor and Empress. For over two months, Chu Mao had not set foot in Chang Le Palace, and Ah Wu had not visited Emperor Jiahe either.

However, Emperor Jiahe still postponed the imperial concubine selection for the second year of his reign, citing an “empty treasury.”

As for whether the treasury was truly empty, Rong Jichang, the Emperor’s father-in-law and Minister of Revenue, knew best. Upon seeing the imperial edict, he could only sigh. His daughter was incredibly stubborn; Lady Cui had tried to persuade her many times to no avail. Finally, pushed to the limit, Lady Cui revealed that Ah Wu had witnessed his affair with Concubine Wang.

Master Rong was utterly ashamed, pacing back and forth in deep regret. He had been too impetuous in his youth, never imagining he would sow such a bitter seed.

Master Rong was torn between worrying about the Emperor’s lack of children and being immensely pleased with Emperor Jiahe’s affections for his daughter. It was a sweet burden.

As for Ah Wu, when Chu Mao returned to Chang Le Palace, reporting for duty every evening at dinner time, she could not help but admire his persistence. If it were her, she would want to slap herself twice and throw herself into the Cold Palace to vent her anger.

Even though Ah Wu had warned herself not to show any interest in Chu Mao, she still could not help but secretly observe his complexion. His face was thinner, lacking its usual vigor, appearing somewhat pale with a slight bluish tinge—his health must not have fully recovered.

Ah Wu shoveled a mouthful of white rice into her mouth and told herself that this was not something she should worry about; she had already committed acts of filial impiety, for which death could not atone.

After the meal, the two moved to a side room. Chu Mao, unlike usual, did not chat with Ah Wu about court affairs; he only sat for a short while before getting up and leaving.

Ah Wu breathed a sigh of relief, holding her teacup and slumping on the couch, lost in thought.

A little while later, Lu Ruoxing arrived with his men, carrying things into Chang Le Palace.

Several pure white water lilies were kept in a blue-and-white porcelain jar with a lotus scroll design, beneath which sat two red jade ornaments. At the bottom of the jar were Yuhua stones, tributes from the south. A large, famille rose, gilded plate depicting a hundred sons and a thousand grandsons was also there, filled with fresh fruit for fragrance. Shang dynasty bronze vessels, Xia dynasty artifacts, jade mountain ornaments, and coral bonsai were also brought in.

With this arrangement, the previously empty main hall and bedrooms of Chang Le Palace suddenly felt more human, more alive; it finally felt like a place where someone lived.

Lu Ruoxing, observing the eunuchs setting the items away, bowed to Ah Wu and said, “Your Majesty, the Emperor said that if Your Majesty does not like them, he will send over something else that Your Majesty prefers.”

The implication was that the items were personally selected by the Emperor, and if Ah Wu had them thrown away, he would send something else.

“Understood,” Ah Wu replied.

Two days later, Lu Ruoxing sent over a snow-white Persian cat and a pug with a wagging tail. Both little creatures were incredibly cute, and the palace servants adored them.

Only Ah Wu, unable to bear the flying fur, sneezed twice, and the two little creatures disappeared from Chang Le Palace.

But Chang Le Palace was never short of liveliness. Lady Cui had entered the palace again, bringing Dong Cangyue and Tang Yin with her, along with Huan’er and Rui’er. Tang Yin’s son, Le’er, was also there, but being too young, he was left at home in case he would not understand palace etiquette.

Ah Wu was overjoyed to see Tang Yin. “Sister Yin, why are you back?”

Tang Yin was seething with anger. What did the Emperor’s and Empress’s quarrel have to do with her? Did the Emperor really need to send such a roundabout imperial edict, summoning her all the way back from Luoning, effectively separating them?

Now that Rong Yin had been promoted to Commander of the Luoning Guard, his status had risen, and with a younger sister who was now the Empress, there were countless people eager to curry favor with him. And the means of currying favor were nothing more than money and sex. Tang Yin and Rong Yin had been married for many years, and the passionate love of their youth was long gone. Although their affection remained deep, Rong Yin could not help but be tempted by newer women.

However, hearing Ah Wu’s question, Tang Yin dared not show it. After all, Ah Wu was now the Empress, and she felt sorry for Ah Wu, wondering why things had come to this. Her best friend and Empress was truly the luckiest person in the world.

Not only was she born into a prominent family, but she was also the Empress. What made her the most object of envy and criticism was that even a figure like Emperor Jiahe had dismissed all his concubines for her sake. Now, she was the only Empress in the harem, and yet she still caused such a ruckus; she probably would not be satisfied without creating chaos.

Because of this, although Tang Yin was extremely unwilling, she still set off from Luoning back to the capital as soon as she received the news.

“I heard some time ago that Your Majesty was unwell, and I was worried about you. After discussing it with my husband, he sent someone to bring me back and to convey his regards to Your Majesty,” Tang Yin said.

Hearing Tang Yin say this, Ah Wu realized that this was a special trip back for her. She wondered whose idea it was, but it certainly was not Tang Yin herself; she could not bear to leave her second brother even for a moment.

Ah Wu ordered someone to take Lady Cui, Dong Cangyue, and the two children to the Imperial Garden to admire the flowers, leaving Tang Yin alone and leading her into a side room for conversation.