Mostly Heartless Spring (Part 8)
"I came to see you." Zhiwei walked over quickly, reached out and touched her forehead; her temperature was normal. "How are you feeling? Is anything bothering you?"
"I'm alright, just a little weak." Cheng Yuzhi coughed twice. "I came here to help you relax, but instead I've made you worry."
Cheng Yuzhi had heard more or less about Zhiwei and Zhu Mingyu's affair.
Zhiwei shook her head, indicating that Cheng Yuzhi was alright. She took out a small cloth bag from her bosom, inside which were some calming incense she had burned.
“I used mugwort and mimosa flowers to make the incense. You can light it when you sleep to make yourself feel more at ease.” Zhiwei then handed Jiang Mama a few sheets of paper. “This is a recipe for postpartum care. It’s chicken soup made with angelica and astragalus, with some red dates added. It’s good for replenishing qi and blood. You can make it for the princess.”
Granny Jiang quickly accepted it and said gratefully, "Thank you for your trouble, Miss Yan."
Cheng Yuzhi looked at Zhiwei's busy appearance, and a warm feeling welled up in her eyes.
Wan Zhen'er took the calming incense from Zhiwei's hand and smelled it carefully: "It's strange, mugwort and mimosa aren't things pregnant women should be in contact with too much, but right now they're excellent for the Crown Princess to dispel cold and calm her nerves. Sigh, the food is the same, isn't my Ashou the same..."
Wan Zhen'er's original intention was to express her feelings about the multiple effects of the same thing, which evoked her sadness, but she had no malicious intent.
Cheng Yuzhi couldn't help but lower her eyes. She stroked her lower abdomen: "Yes, what was a banned drug not long ago has now become a good medicine."
Ah, life, Cheng Yuzhi laughed self-deprecatingly.
"What are you saying?" Zhiwei tucked the blanket around Cheng Yuzhi. "Perhaps the timing is wrong, and the connection with the child is yet to come. The East Palace has only recently been renovated, and the smells are mixed. Sister's health is already weak, so the timing is simply not right."
Mentioning this, Cheng Yuzhi's eyes softened: "My husband comforted me in the same way. Indeed, now is not a good time. There are many things to do in the Crown Prince's Palace. I am his wife, and it would be wrong to distract him further."
Zhiwei was stunned. She did want to comfort Cheng Yuzhi, but Cheng Yuzhi's thoughts were so humble that she had lowered herself to the dust.
“What do you mean by being distracted? As a husband, it’s his duty to comfort you and think more about you,” Zhiwei couldn’t help but say frankly.
“It’s not that he doesn’t think about me, it’s just that he has too much on his shoulders.” Cheng Yuzhi smiled. “My husband has carried too much since birth. I knew I would have to bear these burdens when I married him.”
Cheng Yuzhi looked at Zhiwei and teased, "If Mingyu ever has his own difficulties, you might be just like me, willing to stay by his side."
Cheng Yuzhi wore an expression that said, "This is the truth," leaving Zhiwei speechless for a moment. In her opinion, the Crown Princess was good in every way, except for her way of thinking, which was really a bit... Looking at the gentleness and determination in Cheng Yuzhi's eyes, Zhiwei swallowed the words that were on the tip of her tongue, her heart filled with mixed feelings.
She couldn't do that, nor could she imagine herself being like Cheng Yuzhi, devoting her entire being to a man, even if he was as cold as ice.
But all couples in the world are different. One is willing to give, and the other is willing to receive; Zhiwei couldn't really say anything.
"Who knows what will happen in the future?" Zhiwei felt a little uneasy.
Suddenly, Wan Zhen'er muttered softly, "I can't be like my sister. I get annoyed just seeing that icy face."
She peeled an orange that she'd somehow gotten her hands on, without even lifting her eyelids.
Cheng Yuzhi smiled and looked at the "younger sister" in front of her with gentle eyes. Sometimes she would sigh that it was fortunate that Zhu Liji had married a naive person like Wan Zhen'er as his concubine. She had heard too much about the power struggles in and out of the palace. Fortunately, she was lucky and did not have such worries.
Cheng Yuzhi called Jiang Mama forward, who brought the sweet porridge from the bedroom table to Wan Zhen'er and lovingly patted Wan Zhen'er's head.
The oppressive atmosphere in the side room finally dissipated somewhat.
As Cheng Yuzhi touched him, she seemed to suddenly remember something and sighed, "Speaking of which, Mingyu really cares about you."
"You wouldn't believe it, the day before he was to go on a mission to Siam, you two had a fight, but he still secretly came to ask me if the wedding headdress I had prepared for you was fashionable enough. Afraid that you wouldn't like it, he went to Jin Yu Lou and bought two more kingfisher feather hairpins..."
As Zhiwei listened, she felt as if something had struck her heart.
“He only knows how to do these formalities,” Zhiwei retorted stubbornly. “If he really wanted me to calm down, he should have apologized to me sooner.”
"Didn't he already write to you? In the letter, he said that you hadn't replied to him before, and he knew you were angry, so he had formally apologized to you in the following letters."
"You didn't open these letters, did you?" Cheng Yuzhi frowned slightly. "That's right. You've become like this because of me and my husband. I should have called you earlier. Maybe you could have resolved your issues sooner."
Cheng Yuzhi pursed her lips, looking apologetic. Zhiwei couldn't bear her bodhisattva-like repentant expression and quickly stopped Cheng Yuzhi.
Cheng Yuzhi's desire to express herself remained unchanged, as if she genuinely felt obligated to repair the relationship between Zhiwei and Cheng Yuzhi.
"And that time you went to the drill ground to ask him about the mission to Siam and Ying, he didn't mean to ignore you," Cheng Yuzhi continued, "he just felt that you criticized him directly in front of so many subordinates, and he lost face."
“You know his temper. He was so embarrassed, but he didn’t dare to say anything to annoy you, so he just kept a cold face and didn’t say anything. In fact, he regretted it that night and couldn’t sleep all night. He developed a high fever the next day. Several days passed after he recovered, but you wouldn’t even let him touch the door of Jingfang Garden.”
"Did you know that before he left, he specially took the veil that you were supposed to wear on your wedding day with him, saying that he would continue to sew it for you on the way?"
“So,” Cheng Yuzhi gently patted Zhiwei’s hand, speaking earnestly, “don’t hold a grudge against him. Mingyu’s heart is full of you, completely full of you. As a couple, there are bound to be conflicts, and there can be no lasting happiness. He cares about you, is considerate of you, and loves you—isn’t that enough?”
The amount of information in Cheng Yuzhi's words was so great that Zhiwei was completely stunned.
She remembered that veil; Zhu Mingyu had injured his hands several times while sewing it. Once, it was so bad that blood stained the veil, and she tried to reassure him that it was all red anyway, so it didn't matter. But Zhu Mingyu got so anxious that he said it was bad luck and it had to be sewn back on.
His tanned face flashed through her mind, and the resentment she had harbored for his sudden departure deflated like a punctured balloon, leaving only a sour and soft feeling.
Zhiwei's fingers unconsciously traced the delicate texture of her cuffs. After a long while, she let out a soft hum, tinged with a lingering stubbornness and a barely perceptible softening: "Who's going to hold a grudge against him... Let's wait until he comes back and see how he admits his mistake."
She stood up, made an excuse to go to the small kitchen to check on the stew, and practically fled.
——
Life in the Eastern Palace passed quickly. Zhiwei only took half a month off, spending her days eating and drinking, occasionally strolling with friends to admire flowers, and the days flowed by like water.
She soon returned to the capital. Autumn passed and winter came. Zhu Mingyu remained in Siam. Political struggles were ever-changing, and Zhiwei had long been prepared for his late return, so it was not unexpected.
Zhu Mingyu initially sent letters to Zhiwei, but Zhiwei didn't reply. Later, for some reason, he gradually stopped.
In the winter of her third year as a lady-in-waiting in the palace, Zhiwei was busy preparing for the year-end banquet as always.
The end of each year is the busiest time for the Imperial Food Bureau, with numerous preparations for banquets of all sizes in the palace and family dinners on New Year's Eve. In the past two years, Zhiwei has gradually taken over the main work, keeping her extremely busy.
Starting at the hour of Yin (3-5 AM) and resting at the hour of Zi (11 PM-1 AM) becomes the norm
Sometimes, when Zhiwei looked at the pile of documents on the table, she often felt overwhelmed. Fortunately, Shaozhao and Shaoyang were considerate and able to manage Jingfangyuan well, so she could concentrate on her work.
That day, Zhiwei was preparing a banquet again. Unlike usual, this banquet brought together most of the high-ranking officials in the capital. It was a high-level event, and Zhiwei was afraid that others would not do a good job, so she had to take charge of many things herself.
"Have you heard? His Majesty summoned his ministers this time to resolve the matter between Siam and Ying as soon as possible, so that the envoy can return quickly."
"It's time for them to return. What started as a minor internal conflict has escalated into a major one, with Siam and Ying locked in fierce fighting, which has delayed the envoy's return."
"So, after the Second Prince returns, Master's marriage will have to be put on the agenda soon." Afu, standing among a few chatting palace maids, caught up on this important information.
Zhiwei did not stop the gossips.
These days she keeps having nightmares for no reason, and she's so listless that she doesn't even have the energy to listen.
With each rise and fall of the sharp cleaver in her hand, the radish chunks were sliced into thin shreds, white like threads. Zhiwei's eyelids drooped, and she accidentally used the wrong force, turning the white shreds into red lines.
"Master!" Afu noticed Zhiwei first, then threw away his knife and rushed forward, grabbing Zhiwei's hand to examine her carefully.
The sharp pain lasted only a moment, then blood gushed out, likely from a damaged blood vessel, turning into a crimson torrent.
I washed my fingers with water, but they felt cold and numb.
It wasn't a serious injury, and Zhiwei was used to it, but she still felt a slight discomfort.
——
"Father, this cup of wine is offered to you. May you live a long and prosperous life." Zhu Liji rarely changed into brightly colored clothes. The bright yellow clothes swayed with the cup. He parted his teeth slightly and smiled, which made him look less cold.
Zhiwei stood beside the emperor, serving him tea. The emperor had only been on the throne for three years, yet his hair had already turned completely white. Some time ago, he showed signs of a stroke, and after being diagnosed by the imperial physician, he lost his right to drink alcohol.
Perhaps due to good recuperation, the emperor's complexion was unusually rosy, and his voice was also more vibrant.
The emperor offered tea instead of wine to his officials, who responded in unison, their voices echoing throughout the hall.
Zhiwei struggled to stay awake, but the wound on her hand started to itch inexplicably, as if tiny insects had crawled into it.
A gust of wind rushed in; it was Li Mingjing, who was stationed at the city wall today and had come in a hurry.
"Your Majesty, something terrible has happened! News has come from the front lines: Siam... Siam has rebelled! Right now, they are leading a large army towards our border." Li Mingjing gasped for breath as he knelt down in the main hall.
The voices of the officials gradually faded.
The emperor hurriedly stood up: "Where are the Second Prince and the others? Is the mission sent to Siam and Ying safe and sound?"
The emperor's answer was silence.
Li Mingjing's eyes were vacant, and his head felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
"Second Prince, Mingyu, he..." Li Mingjing's voice grew weaker and weaker, his whole body trembling.
"His remains are currently on their way back to the capital."
Upon hearing this, the emperor suddenly dropped the cup in his hand.
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