Chapter 72#
Imperial Physician Chu looked up and saw the emperor gazing in his direction, toward the rash on Empress Xu’s hand.#
As he spoke, he suddenly realized something.
In the third year of Taiyuan, Empress Xu and Consort Ning gave birth on the same day. The Deposed Crown Prince suffered a difficult labor, while the Sixth Prince arrived prematurely.
Both princes were born with health issues. The Deposed Crown Prince had been constitutionally weak since birth, his body frail until age three, painstakingly nurtured back to health by the Empress, who even made annual pilgrimages to Huguo Temple to pray for his well-being. The Sixth Prince, born prematurely and weak, was poisoned by Consort Ning, who was suffering from hysteria. As a child, he rarely left his bed, constantly accompanied by medicine. His frailty and frequent illnesses were known throughout the palace.
Both being sickly in childhood was enough to mask most obvious signs.
Chen Xujiū’s expression shifted slightly. She walked over directly: “Your Majesty, forgive my impertinence.”
She drew blood with a needle. When a drop fell into the bowl, it reacted faintly upon contact with the lure.
But only faintly; it soon calmed.
The surrounding imperial physicians dared not speak at this sight.
The rash. The fetal toxicity.
The fetal toxicity in the Sixth Prince could only have been inherited from the womb. Now, simply testing the lure on Consort Ning would suffice… no, testing might not even be necessary.
Everyone in the tent watched Chen Xujiū. Yet they didn’t need her diagnosis; all the eerie signs pointed to one absurd and audacious truth: the two princes born that day had been swapped by someone with ulterior motives. This was the imperial palace! With so many eunuchs and physicians surrounding Empress Xu during childbirth, who could have pulled off such a feat under everyone’s eyes!
The surroundings fell silent. Qi Hánzhōu ordered the tent sealed off, ensuring no news leaked out.
No matter how shocking this revelation, it was a secret of the imperial family that must not be divulged.
The moment Qi Hánzhōu realized this, he knew that Ying Fúshēng’s true identity would be difficult to bring to light. Appearance alone couldn’t confirm it, and bloodletting tests were absurd… He hadn’t expected that the very fetal toxicity meant to kill him would become the key to revealing his identity. Had he considered this possibility?
The boy lay quietly in a coma, unaware of the turmoil this spring hunt was about to unleash.
The emperor remained silent. The atmosphere in the tent was almost suffocatingly oppressive.
“What do you mean?” Empress Xu suddenly asked.
Her voice trembled slightly. She involuntarily looked at others: “What do you mean?”
The Dowager Empress watched the dazed Empress Xu, then turned her gaze to the child on the bed.
The Ning family or the Xu family—how could they be so bold as to do such a thing! A child swap, right in the imperial palace, without anyone in the entire palace noticing! If it hadn’t been for Ying Fúshēng being pursued and triggering the fetal toxicity today, who would ever have discovered this!
Empress Xu stared blankly at the bowl where the reaction had calmed. Only when a voice sounded nearby did she snap out of her stupor. Her mind raced with thoughts—first the wandering physician’s mention of fetal toxicity, then the sudden rash on her hand… Suddenly, her hands and feet turned cold, and a belated fear surged within her.
“No, impossible, it can’t be. This is my child?” Empress Xu murmured, an immense sense of panic enveloping her. She jerked her head up toward the sickbed, where the boy on the verge of death lay silently, his breath so faint it was barely audible, his chest showing no obvious rise and fall, as if he might pass at any moment.
She staggered over. The imperial physicians dared not stop her, and they watched as Empress Xu stumbled and halted before Ying Fúshēng’s bed.
Empress Xu’s memories of this child were pitifully few. In his early years, he had been bedridden and rarely left Weiyang Palace. Her limited memories painted a picture of a weak, almost invisible presence. The only vague memories she had were of him pleading for his mother at Cining Palace during the Wangyue Pavilion incident, and later at a palace banquet…
Those memories were sparse. For this child, she had even allowed Shuāngyuè to carry out the witchcraft frame-up, intending to drag both him and the eldest prince down with it. She recalled that at Cining Palace, if not for the Dowager Empress, this child would not have escaped the witchcraft affair.
The burning pain on the back of her hand brought her back to reality.
Empress Xu grew flustered and looked sharply at the bed.
Could this be her child…?
A child swap? Was heaven playing a joke on her?
The person on the bed gave no response. Empress Xu seemed to be looking at this child for the first time. Though he was nearly fourteen, his build was no larger than the much younger Eighth Prince. His face was pallid with illness, as if he had looked this way for years… The boy’s complexion was ashen; years of poisoning had nearly drained him of his vitality. The little color that imperial physicians had painstakingly restored over years of treatment was now completely gone.
He might be dying.
The moment this thought surfaced in Empress Xu’s mind, she lost control of her emotions. “Save him! Save him! Find a way to save him!”
Her frantic, unhinged demeanor was a far cry from her usual serene composure. Hysterical, she grabbed Chen Xujiū as if clutching at a lifeline.
Chen Xujiū looked away. “Your Majesty, please rise.”
“The Sixth Prince’s condition has temporarily stabilized. Whether he can survive this ordeal depends on his fate.”
Empress Xu froze.
Chen Xujiū had said all she could. Such poison would be hard even for an adult to endure, let alone a sickly child.
Chen Xujiū had done her best to keep him alive, but the next few days would be perilous. He could only pull through if he weathered the crisis.
The Dowager Empress looked at the emperor, her heart clenched tight. Since this child had come to her side at age ten, he had been obedient and sensible, subtly ingratiating himself, filial to his poisoner mother and attentive to her in every way. A normal prince wouldn’t instinctively try to please or comply with others. This obedience was merely a habit formed through subtle influence.
Had there been no swap, he would have been appointed crown prince in his childhood, the heir to the Great Yuan Dynasty.
He would never have had to endure humiliation in the palace, nor suffered poisoning from his birth mother. Instead, he would have grown up healthy and carefree.
Inside the tent, the emperor stared at Ying Fúshēng for a long time. When he finally turned to Qi Hánzhōu, Qi knew there was no stopping matters now. To swap a child in broad daylight within the imperial palace, and now to be so eager to eliminate the witness—whether it was the assassins in the northern mountains or the Xu clan officials who had attempted murder earlier, they all had one goal: to kill the Sixth Prince.
Now that the swap had been exposed, the grand scheme to murder a prince in the northern mountains finally made sense. Why specifically lure the Sixth Prince into the mountains via the Eighth Prince, and deliberately trigger the poison? The schemer knew all about the Sixth Prince’s fetal toxicity and used it to plot murder. They could only be the true culprits behind the swapped royal bloodline… And now, they wanted to kill Empress Xu’s biological child.
“The assassination case. The murder case.”
The emperor said coldly, “Do you know about these?”
Empress Xu’s face turned ashen. The eunuch’s words from earlier rang in her ears like tinnitus—the Deposed Crown Prince’s guards, the Eighth Prince in danger… and now Ying Fúshēng’s life hanging by a thread.
Just then, a voice came from outside the tent. The order for a thorough investigation had been issued, and the Brocade Guard sent to the Deposed Crown Prince’s secluded palace had returned.
The northern mountains were not far from the detached palace. When the Deposed Crown Prince was dragged over, his face was full of terror.
The Brocade Guard pulled him to the side tent. He knelt on the ground still wearing his nightclothes. The moment he met the emperor’s gaze, fear rose in him. His eyes darted around nervously as he surveyed his surroundings, his unease growing: “Father, what… what happened?”
“Where are your guards?” the emperor asked.
Only then did the Deposed Crown Prince realize: “In the secluded palace…”
Before he could finish, a token stripped from a dead body was flung into his face by the emperor. Only then did terror finally dawn on his face. He jerked his head up, looking around, but there were no Xu clan officials anywhere. Only the emperor and the Brocade Guard were present in the side tent.
He denied any involvement: “I don’t know, Father. I know nothing.”
The emperor said grimly, “The evidence is right before you, and you say you know nothing?”
The Deposed Crown Prince wondered where things had gone wrong. The person had clearly arranged everything; he had only inserted one of his own people. He had no idea what was happening with the Xu family and that person now. In desperation, he looked around for help, and through the side tent’s opening, he saw Empress Xu standing inside.
“Mother! Mother, save me!” the Deposed Crown Prince turned to her. But as he looked, he saw the tent filled with imperial physicians, Empress Xu standing beside a sickbed, and the Dowager Empress nearby… A bad feeling crept over him. Through the gap, he saw that the person lying on the bed was none other than Ying Fúshēng.
The Deposed Crown Prince froze. His earlier pleading expression turned to shock and uncertainty. He stared fixedly, confirming that Empress Xu was indeed standing by Ying Fúshēng’s bed.
No… Why was she beside him!?
The Deposed Crown Prince’s face twisted momentarily, but soon was overtaken by fear. In that instant, he thought of everything that had happened recently. He stood frozen, staring straight in that direction.
What did she know? Had she realized Ying Fúshēng was her biological son? Impossible; that person had assured him it would never come to light. He had been told that he, the Deposed Crown Prince, was the one destined to ascend the throne.
Why hadn’t Ying Fúshēng died? That person had set a trap to kill him—why was he still alive?
What were those Xu clan officials good for? They couldn’t even handle this! How could Ying Fúshēng still be alive!
The silence in the tent jolted him back to his senses. A sudden realization struck him. Forgetting everything else, he rushed toward Empress Xu: “Mother! Mother!”
Empress Xu was helped out by eunuchs. She looked at the Deposed Crown Prince, who had lost all composure, crying. She had seen the flash of malevolence on his face a moment ago.
She thought: Was this the child she had cherished for over a decade? Was this her child? Her gaze wavered. One was the child she had lovingly raised for years; the other was the one who had been swapped at birth and struggled to survive in the palace. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she looked at this stranger before her, someone she no longer recognized.
The Deposed Crown Prince paused. Words of explanation tumbled out: “I only sent someone to protect Eighth Brother. I never imagined he would be so audacious as to harm Eighth Brother. He must have been hiding near me for a long time. We need to investigate this thoroughly, thoroughly…”
As he finished, everyone looked at him.
The Deposed Crown Prince’s defense came to a halt. His face stiffened as he realized what he had blurted out in his panic: “I… I heard about it on the way here…”
The Brocade Guard remained silent. Without the emperor’s permission, they would not leak information.
The Deposed Crown Prince tried desperately to defend himself, even stammering to change the subject. Empress Xu had raised him for so many years; she could easily read his expression. His face seemed to twist before her, shattering the last line of defense in her heart.
He knew. He had been involved too.
The emperor beside her had lost patience. The boy kneeling before him had once been the heir he had placed great hopes in. Now, he had degenerated to this state—scarcely even resembling a prince, let alone a crown prince. The emperor looked at him coldly: “Did you hear about the former dynasty on the way here too?”
At the mention of spies from the former dynasty, the Deposed Crown Prince’s face changed drastically.
How did Father know about the former dynasty? What did he know?
Empress Xu swayed, steadying herself only with the support of a eunuch.
She looked at the emperor. What former dynasty?
Seeing the Deposed Crown Prince’s reaction, the emperor understood: “Colluding with traitors, plotting against your own brothers. Take the Deposed Crown Prince away.”
“Father, I am wronged —”
The Deposed Crown Prince’s voice faded as he was dragged away.
……
That night stretched until dawn, the entire tent shrouded in deathly silence.
The Deposed Crown Prince was taken away by the Brocade Guard. The secret of the child swap within the tent was sealed on everyone’s lips. Not a single imperial physician dared to speak. All attention was fixed on the Sixth Prince.
Conditions in the tent were limited. The imperial physicians could only find a way to send the Sixth Prince back to the palace.
As they left, Qi Hánzhōu and Chen Xujiū exchanged a glance.
Chen Xujiū knew what he wanted to ask, but for now, they had to wait for Yīng Fúshēng to survive the next two days.
Yè Xuánjiǔ led the team escorting the imperial physicians and the Sixth Prince back. Qi Hánzhōu watched them leave. When he lowered his gaze to his own hand, he recalled the faint, barely perceptible breath he had felt when touching the boy. A fleeting trance passed over him. He collected himself and looked beyond the tent toward the spring hunt grounds, where civil and military officials gathered, along with the hidden informants lurking among them. The most important task now was to round them all up in one fell swoop.
Outside the tent, the other officials on the spring hunt grounds still didn’t know what had happened.
The emperor’s sweeping investigation targeting the Xu family and the former Eastern Palace had begun. Without explanation, all officials connected to the Xu family, the former Eastern Palace, and even the former Ministry of Works were taken away by the Brocade Guard for questioning.
“What on earth has happened!” wailed Minister Liu of the Ministry of Works.
He wasn’t alone. Even the other prince factions had no idea what was going on.
The events within the tent that night became a fleeting secret, while the Brocade Guard’s operations proceeded swiftly.
After a full day and night of investigation, the Xu family, initially the victims, were subjected to a comprehensive purge. Grand Secretary Xu was forced to come out and take the blame, but this matter could no longer be contained by words alone. Of the two Xu clan officials involved in designing the spring hunt trap, one was implicated in an assassination attempt before the emperor and was thrown into the Brocade Guard’s prison, never to be heard from again.
When Grand Secretary Xu learned that someone had used his name to carry out murderous schemes, he knew it was all over. He had known there were informants within the Xu family, but before he could root them all out, that person had acted in the Xu family’s name, silently landing them in this predicament.
Originally, with the emperor backing the Eighth Prince, the Xu family still had a chance. But colluding with traitors to murder a prince was all but a capital crime.
“Grand Secretary,” his confidant said urgently.
Grand Secretary Xu aged several years in an instant. His expression was one of utter defeat: “Enough.”
Following the leads from the Xu clan officials and the emperor’s pre-arranged deployment on the hunting grounds, the Brocade Guard swept up everyone in one clean operation: the informants hidden among the mountain search parties, the officials who had swapped the guides on the hunting grounds—all were caught in a single net.
The one most inextricably involved was the Eastern Palace.
The captured Xu family members gave inconsistent accounts, claiming ignorance of the Eastern Palace’s affairs. Only the Deposed Crown Prince could have mobilized the guards around him to venture deep into the hunting grounds and murder his own brother. This entire incident targeting a prince on the hunting grounds pointed squarely at the Eastern Palace. Combined with the earlier Ministry of Works case, the Deposed Crown Prince’s connection to spies from the former dynasty was as good as proven.
When the investigation results came out, the entire court was shocked. This conspiracy to murder a prince had been the work of the long-deposed crown prince.
In no time, due to the Xu family’s indulgence of the Deposed Crown Prince’s crimes, Grand Secretary Xu was taken into the Brocade Guard’s prison. The implicated officials were to be investigated and dealt with. Everyone feared for their own safety.
The emperor’s first act upon returning to the palace was to visit the Wutong Hall. The lure had no effect on Consort Ning. When Consort Ning heard that the Deposed Crown Prince had attempted to murder his brothers, her face changed drastically. She went mad, trying to defend the Deposed Crown Prince. Her long-cherished dream of the Deposed Crown Prince ascending the throne and rescuing her was shattered in an instant.
Consort Ning was completely insane.
Her reaction to the Deposed Crown Prince was abnormal, as if she had long known his true identity.
Within three days of the two princes being sent back to the palace, the Eighth Prince woke up first, but Yīng Fúshēng remained unconscious.
After being sent back to the palace, he had barely escaped death. His high fever persisted. One night, his breathing nearly stopped. That night, Imperial Physician Chu and the others worked tirelessly to save him, forcibly pulling the Sixth Prince back from the brink. What caused his condition to fluctuate was the residual poison in his body.
The fetal toxicity and the “Crushed Red Seeds” had nearly drained him of all his vitality.
Winter passed and spring arrived. The Sixth Prince did not wake on the day of his fourteenth birthday.
The lamps in Wanchun Palace burned brightly through the night. The Dowager Empress came every day, as did Empress Xu.
No one could tell what Empress Xu was thinking, but her hair had turned white overnight the night they returned to the palace.
The Xu family and the Deposed Crown Prince’s downfall had repercussions far beyond trivial matters.
Those in the know dared not speak openly. The emperor had not ordered the Empress’s deposition, likely due to this sealed imperial secret.
The imperial physicians came daily. Chen Xujiū stayed by his side almost without leaving. When Qi Hánzhōu visited at night, he could see the ever-burning lamp beside him. The flame flickered, a small, lonely fire, and the scattered chess pieces on the board had accumulated a thin layer of dust.
One night, he sat on the eaves of Wanchun Palace, watching that person all night long.
One day in April, a gentle breeze blew in through the window.
The fingers of the person lying in bed twitched slightly. His long-stiffened body seemed to stir to life at last.
Yīng Fúshēng slowly opened his eyes.
Blinding light streamed in. He saw the warm sun of a new day.