Father and son of the Heavenly Family
On the official road leading to Yongzhou, dust was raised by the heavy wheels and then blown away by the bleak autumn wind.
The motorcade of Prince Yong's Mansion moved forward silently under the strict escort of the Jinwu Guards. The once magnificent prince's ceremonial guard was gone, and only a few regulated carriages remained. Everyone knew that they had been expelled.
The atmosphere in the most spacious carriage was suffocating.
Prince Yong was leaning against the wall, his dark brocade robe making his expression even gloomier.
The young prince Ning Chengze snuggled in the arms of his mother, Princess Yong, his face pale and tired from the long bumpy journey.
He raised his head and timidly tugged at the corner of his father's clothes: "Father, Grandpa Huang, why doesn't Grandpa Huang want us anymore? Why did you drive us out of the capital? Did Ze'er do anything wrong?"
The child's voice was crying, and it was particularly clear and harsh in the silent carriage.
Prince Yong's Adam's apple rolled, as if there were thousands of words stuck in his chest, but in the end it only turned into a deeper silence.
"Be good, Ze'er," Princess Yong hugged her son tighter in her arms, rubbing her cheek against the top of his head.
"Grandpa Emperor, Grandpa Emperor thinks Ze'er has grown up, and wants Ze'er to go to the fiefdom to help Grandpa Emperor. It's not Ze'er's fault, Ze'er is not wrong." Princess Yong used the most gentle voice to patiently coax the child in her arms.
She looked up at her husband. His once high-spirited figure now looked desolate. Her heart ached as she looked out the window at the desolate scenery rapidly receding, which was a vast expanse of emptiness.
As night fell, the caravan finally stopped at a simple and dilapidated post station. The lanterns hanging at the entrance of the post station swayed dimly, reflecting the vague words "Ping'an Post Station".
The Jinwu Guards were dismounting and commanding the postmaster who had come to greet them, "Clean up the most remote courtyard on the west side! Hurry! Accommodate our distinguished guests!"
The postmaster was a lean middle-aged man. Upon hearing this, he put on a flattering smile and bowed repeatedly: "Yes, yes, yes, don't worry, General. The West Courtyard, uh, is quieter and more spacious. I'll do it right away!"
He glanced at the heavily guarded carriages, then quickly lowered his eyes, not daring to look any further.
The so-called "West Courtyard" was nothing more than a few dilapidated adobe houses. The Jinwu Guard soldiers led them here with an expressionless face, and then stood guard at the gate of the courtyard like door gods, monitoring every move in the courtyard.
A family member, carrying a small bundle, tried to approach the princess' carriage to help, but was rudely stopped by a Jinwu Guard soldier guarding the gate with a scabbard: "Stand back! No approaching the main courtyard without orders! Return to where you belong!"
The family member staggered back in fear, tears in their eyes, but dared not speak.
Ning Chengze shrank back in shock at the sudden scolding, his little hands tightly grasping the hem of his mother's skirt. Princess Yong pursed her lips, protected her son to her side, straightened her back, and walked step by step towards the dilapidated courtyard.
It was late at night and everything was silent except for the barking of wild dogs in the distance and the whimpering of the wind blowing through the torn window paper.
Princess Yong finally coaxed the crying prince to sleep. Under the dim oil lamp, Prince Yong still maintained the same posture as during the day, sitting stiffly at the table, like a stone sculpture.
The water in the rough teacup on the table had already turned cold.
At this time, a burst of intermittent and suppressed sobbing came from the next room. It was the close family members of Prince Yong's mansion.
Princess Yong paused and looked at her husband.
He had opened his eyes, which were bloodshot, filled with humiliation and a hint of vulnerability that he himself was not even aware of.
He raised his head and looked at his wife standing in the shadow of the lamp.
Princess Yong could no longer bear it. She quickly walked to her husband, squatted down, and held his cold hand tightly.
"Yan Li..." Princess Yong's voice was choked with sobs as she called her husband's name softly.
Ning Yanli grabbed his wife's hand tightly with his backhand, with such force that Princess Yong felt a little pain, but she bit her lip and said nothing.
The couple looked at each other, silently shedding tears, in this simple inn on a cold night in a foreign land.
Under the same night sky, in the majestic bedroom of Zichen Palace.
The emperor suddenly sat up from the dragon bed in shock, gasping for breath, cold sweat soaking his bright yellow inner garment.
The howling wind and snow in the dream seemed to still be in his ears. He saw Prince Ning running in fear and calling for help in the snow, but was eventually swallowed up by the ice and snow, leaving only a pair of frightened eyes staring at him.
“…” The emperor opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
The eunuch Fu'an and the imperial physician hurried forward: "Your Majesty! Your Majesty, what's wrong with you?"
The emperor waved away the hand of the imperial physician who was taking his pulse and stared at the intricate dragon pattern on the ceiling of the tent with empty eyes. The nightmare scene could not be shaken off.
He waved everyone away, leaving only Fu'an standing in the corner.
That night, the candlelight in the Zichen Palace never went out again.
The emperor sat on the couch like a clay sculpture or wooden carving, until the sky outside the window turned pale, and the fatigue in his eyes was so deep that it could not be dispelled.
*
Early in the morning, the queen walked into the Zichen Palace holding a young child.
The child was none other than the crown prince's eldest son, the emperor's eldest grandson, Ning Chengji. With a look of confusion and uneasiness on his little face, he held his grandmother's hand tightly.
"Your Majesty," the Queen released her grandson's hand, motioning him to stand quietly aside. She then walked to the dragon bed and bowed deeply. "I, along with Chengji, pay my respects to Your Majesty."
The emperor's gaze slowly withdrew from the window and fell on the queen and grandson. He saw the fear deep in the queen's eyes, and also saw the timid look in little Chengji's eyes.
"The Queen is here." The Emperor's voice was hoarse. "How is the Crown Prince?"
The Queen did not answer immediately. She pulled little Chengji to kneel again. This time, her posture was even lower, with her forehead almost touching the ground. "Your Majesty, I am guilty and I have come to apologize."
The emperor looked at her silently without calling out, and the air in the hall was stagnant.
The Queen took a deep breath and raised her head. "Prince Ning Yanqing, as the crown prince, you are not concerned about your father's illness, but instead you are filled with fear. This is a serious act of unfilial piety! As their legal mother, I failed to teach them well and failed to notice and advise them sooner. I cannot escape the blame. Please, Your Majesty, punish me!"
The emperor's weary gaze fell on the empress's drooping bun. After a moment's silence, he slowly said, "Stand up and talk. The prince is my son."
The Queen didn't stand up, but instead lowered her head even lower. Her voice was choked with sobs, but every word was clear: "Your Majesty, the Crown Prince's crime is not just the medicine. His crime is cowardice and incompetence, his crime is a lack of determination. However, the root of the problem lies not with the Crown Prince alone!"
Upon hearing this, the emperor seemed to sneer, yet also to lament, "Is it my fault? I shouldn't have made him the crown prince, shouldn't I have made him regent?"
The Empress raised her head, tears in her eyes, and looked directly at the Emperor: "The fault lies with me. As the Empress, I only knew how to teach him to follow the rules and uphold the reputation of being kind and benevolent, but I didn't let him understand that beneath this throne lies a sea of fire and swords."
"The fault lies with Your Majesty. You placed high hopes on him, yet you only allowed him to see the dignity of the crown prince. You never let him experience the pain of power struggles, and you didn't teach him that indecision is a death warrant!"
The Queen's voice grew increasingly sorrowful. "The blame lies even more with the courtiers who surrounded him, flattered him, and placed him on a pedestal! What they needed was not a wise and decisive monarch? What they needed was a docile, weak, and easily controlled prince, a puppet who fulfilled their ideal image of a sage monarch."
"Your Majesty, the Crown Prince wasn't born this way. He was disciplined by all of us in this palace and court into being what he is today!"
"Your Majesty, was our child born to harm his parents? The Crown Prince is your first prince. Don't you even want to give him a chance to live now?" The Queen cried with tears in her eyes, her eyes filled with grief.
The emperor closed his eyes and remained silent for a long time.
Fuan stood aside with his hands hanging down, even his breathing became lighter.
Little Chengji seemed to feel the heavy atmosphere. His little hands tightly grasped his grandmother's sleeves. His little face was tense and his eyes were full of fear. He knew that they were talking about his father. He hadn't seen his father for a long time. He wanted to cry, but he didn't dare.
After a while, the emperor opened his eyes and his gaze fell on little Chengji: "Chengji, come to Grandpa Huang."
Little Chengji looked at his grandmother. The queen wiped away her tears and pushed him forward. Only then did he let go of his grandmother's sleeve and walked to the dragon bed with small steps and some hesitation.
The emperor extended his hand, the hand that once held sway over the world, now frail and worn from illness, and gently stroked his grandson's tender cheek: "Are you afraid of Grandpa Emperor?"
Little Chengji looked into Grandpa Huang's deep, unfathomable eyes, then turned back to look at his grandmother who was kneeling on the ground. He pursed his lips, and finally nodded honestly, saying softly, "I'm afraid of Grandpa Huang. What happened to my father? Grandma said that my father did something wrong..."
There was a cry in the child's voice, but he tried hard to hold it back.
The emperor's hand paused.
"Your father..." The emperor's voice was unusually hoarse. "He is ill. Very ill."
He didn't say what the disease was, but the heavy tone made little Chengji's small body tremble slightly. He seemed to understand that it was a very terrible disease that was difficult to cure.
The emperor withdrew his hand and turned his gaze to the still kneeling empress. "The empress is right. The prince's fault is not his own fault. The people around him are useless. He is timid and indecisive. He has long been overwhelmed by the heavy burden. Now..."
He paused, a trace of pain flashing in his eyes, "I have completely lost my mind."
He stopped looking at the Queen and his gaze returned to little Chengji, with a complex scrutiny: "Chengji, from now on, stay in Zichen Palace and stay with Grandpa Huang."
The Queen raised her head, then forced it down, and kowtowed deeply: "Your Majesty, I thank you for your grace. It is a great blessing for Chengji to be personally taught by Your Majesty."
The emperor waved his hand and said, "Prince, let him move to the Western Garden to recuperate. Take good care of his illness. No one is allowed to disturb him without my order. The Eastern Palace is temporarily empty..."
After these words were spoken, both the emperor and the empress fell silent.
The prince was their first child, and had been designated as the crown prince since birth. He was his eldest legitimate son, but now...
"Fu'an, go and convey the imperial decree." The emperor's voice restored his imperial majesty.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Fu'an bowed and accepted the order.
Little Chengji listened to the words of the emperor's grandfather and then looked at his grandmother's reaction. He did not understand the complicated instructions, but he understood that "father is sick", "move to the West Garden", and "stay with the emperor's grandfather".
He had a vague feeling that his life and his father's life seemed to be about to undergo earth-shaking changes, and he subconsciously took another step closer to the dragon bed.
The queen kowtowed again, pulled up her confused grandson, and walked out.
She knew that this storm of power was far from over, and had even just begun, but at least she had fought for a future for her grandson and for the crumbling Eastern Palace lineage.
The emperor leaned alone on the dragon couch, watching the queen leave with her grandson. The palace door slowly closed, blocking out the light from outside.
He closed his eyes tiredly, drove away the tiger, imprisoned the lion cub, and now, he dragged an even smaller fledgling into the eye of the storm of power.
Personal instruction? A blessing or a curse? His heart was filled with confusion. The hall returned to dead silence, with only the ticking of the night watchman.
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