The yellowed letter was spread out under the candlelight, the dried ink carrying a faint smell of sweat. Yunwan could tell that he had practiced with weapons for a while before he could calm down and write this farewell letter.
Her fingertips delicately traced the features of the handsome young man with striking eyebrows and sharp features, unlike De Xuan who possessed a delicate, jade-like quality, but rather a masculine and intense presence like the midday sun. She slowly murmured, "Yunwan, wait for my return! If General Fucha still refuses to let me marry you, I will take you away and travel across the vast landscapes of the Qing Dynasty!"
After Dexuan left, Yan Ning's longing for her son intensified. She also gained a deeper understanding of her mother's feelings when she missed her. Originally, it was just missing her family, but now there was a strong desire to go back.
Led by Heshen, she carefully toured the entire residence of Princess Guren Hexiao. Yan Ning stopped at the entrance of Qinxian Garden, the mysterious courtyard she had visited during her time in the Qing Dynasty, where she had once lived. Inside, lilies bloomed in Qinxin Garden, surrounded by verdant vines.
Heshen vaguely knew what she was looking for, but he still looked at her with feigned confusion. "My mansion is quite inferior to the Fuzhai Residence, isn't it?"
Yan Ning regained her composure. In her thirties, she possessed a mature and alluring charm. She smiled gently, her beauty reminiscent of a peony, yet with a delicate, lily-like elegance. "You flatter me, sir. My humble abode pales in comparison to your residence!"
Heshen looked at Yan Ning's crescent-shaped eyes, calm as still water, and sighed, "You're actually willing to say a few flattering words now, but do you know that the Fu Mansion oversteps the bounds of imperial authority far more than my own residence? General Fucha almost moved the Yuanmingyuan to the Fu Mansion just to please his wife!" Heshen smiled faintly, but with much helplessness, "If it weren't for that, do you think He Lin and I would have implicated Fukang'an in Li Yuanpei's corruption! Well, the Qichun Garden was originally General Fuheng's imperial garden, and now Fukang'an is building the Fu Mansion in the style of the Yuanmingyuan because he is also receiving the favor of his ancestors!"
Amidst her sighs, carrying a yearning for the continuation of power across generations, Yan Ning knew that Heshen's greatest fear was not being able to pass on his current fortune to his son. Therefore, after Fengshen Yinde married the princess, he amassed wealth with unbridled abandon. In this climate where money and official positions could be traded, he left Fengshen Yinde ample wealth, and with the honor of being a prince consort, he no longer worried about his son's future career. This was also why he willingly allowed himself to be controlled by the emperor time and again.
In September, when chrysanthemums were in full bloom, the Emperor, accompanied by scholars from the Imperial Academy, admired the flowers in the Imperial Garden, listening to them compose poems about the autumn scenery and cultivating a captivating state of mind. During this time, one of the scholars casually mentioned that Yongxing had copied Wang Xizhi's "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion," capturing the essence of Wang Xizhi's running script. Upon hearing this, the Emperor, who greatly admired Wang Xizhi's running script, ordered Yongxing to bring his calligraphy to see.
Upon receiving the imperial edict, Yongxing rushed over. The emperor, clad in his bright yellow dragon robe, stood amidst clusters of chrysanthemums. Despite his white hair, he showed no signs of the sickly appearance of an eighty-year-old, and still exuded the awe-inspiring majesty of an emperor.
After paying his respects, Yongxing received the framed calligraphy and painting from his personal eunuch, Su Guangmu. The painting, as elongated as his figure, was held above his head by him as a sign of respect for the Emperor. A scholar from the Hanlin Academy exclaimed, "Is Prince Cheng using this poem to compare himself to the frustrated and unfulfilled Cao Zhi?"
Upon hearing this, the Emperor's expression changed, and he ordered everyone to disperse. Although Yongxing did not understand the man's meaning, he immediately knelt down, looking at the poem in his hand.
"Beans are boiled with beanstalks as fuel, the beans weep in the pot. We are born of the same root, why must we be so cruel to each other?"
Several large characters were boldly written on the Xuan paper. If Yongxing wanted to deny knowing why he had chosen this calligraphy, no one would believe him. He had seen it many times along the way. However, Su Guangmu had always held the calligraphy in his hands, and he couldn't help but glance at Su Guangmu, who had followed him with bowed head for decades. Today must have been a trap deliberately set for him, yet he didn't know when Su Guangmu had been bribed. Harboring malicious intentions for so many years, Yongxing smiled bitterly; no wonder he had lost so easily.
The Emperor glanced at him only once before turning away. The palace servants who followed closely behind scattered the swaying chrysanthemum petals, which drifted across Yongxing's dark blue robe.
Yongxing knelt in the Imperial Garden all night, the petals on his robe withering. At dawn, he heard whispers among the palace servants that Yongyan had been made Crown Prince. As the sun rose, Wu Shu came to deliver an imperial edict ordering him to return to his palace. When he arrived, Su Guangmu had already committed suicide in his room.
In the Hall of Mental Cultivation, the Emperor sat before his dragon throne, his silver hair in the candlelight revealing the age of an octogenarian. He pondered the successes and failures of his sixty years on the throne. His two initially chosen crown princes had died young, and of the remaining sons, none were entirely to his liking. He looked at Wu Shulai, the servant who had been with him throughout his life, and sighed, "I feel I have failed Kang'er. He has rendered great service to our Great Qing Dynasty!" Wu Shulai, his back hunched, his face wrinkled with sorrow, shared the Emperor's grief, "General Fucha truly respected Your Majesty as his father. For decades, he fought in the north and south, half of his heart was set on sharing your burdens and relieving your troubles!"
The Emperor nodded, his guilt towards Fukang'an growing even stronger. He stopped looking at Wu Shulai and murmured, "Go and summon Yongyan!"
The following day, the Emperor, citing Fukang'an's meritorious service in suppressing the Miao bandits, bestowed upon him the title of Jiayong Zhongrui Beizi, a hereditary title for members of the imperial clan. Delin was also granted the honorary title of Deputy Commander-in-Chief and appointed to serve as a member of the Imperial Guard.
Since the crown prince had already been chosen, the emperor's bestowal of honors upon Fukang'an did not cause a major uproar in the court. However, the emperor's conversation with Wu Shulai that night was all recorded in the residence of the crown prince Yongyan. He looked at the crown prince's crown on the table, his hands clenched so tightly that the veins bulged.
That night, when Yongxing was summoned to the palace by the Emperor, there was no warmth between father and son. The Emperor coldly tossed the edict, now written in full force, to him, but his expression softened considerably as he slowly said, "Your name was written on this edict more than a decade ago. I feared that you would be taken away by Heaven like your two older brothers, which is why I have not yet announced your identity to the world!"
After finishing his sentence, the Emperor changed his tone and said coldly, "Why are you so anxious, repeatedly putting Yongxing in dire straits! He has long since lost interest in the position of Crown Prince. Do you really think I don't know what you've done all these years? Tomorrow I will issue an edict to the world, establishing you as the Crown Prince! In this way, you can put your mind at ease and give Yongxing and Kang'er some breathing room!"
A chance to catch one's breath? Yongyan chuckled, his gentle demeanor masked by a murderous intent. Yongxing was now secluded in his residence, diligently practicing calligraphy, while Fukang'an was still out there winning over the hearts of his troops. Though residing in the Crown Prince's residence, how could he possibly sleep peacefully!
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