Chapter 44: Late-Stage Love Brain? Beyond Saving, Just Wait for Death 13

Xue Yulang was so thoroughly captivated by the courtesans of the pleasure houses that he lost all sense of himself, entirely forgetting his duties, let alone finding time to stand up for the princess, his rightful wife. It took great effort for him to visit Huayang, and when he finally did, all he heard were her endless complaints, which filled him with nothing but impatience. Gradually, Xue Yulang stopped visiting her altogether.

After enduring a lonely and empty house for a time, Huayang could no longer contain herself and entered the palace to weep and plead for justice.

Qin Ye had recently stopped attending court, citing overwhelming grief at the loss of his son. Who would dare offer words of consolation at such a time? No one wanted to risk the emperor, in his need for others to share his pain, ordering their own sons put to death so they could understand a father’s loss firsthand.

The fact that the Prince of Chu was actually still alive was a closely guarded secret; ordinary ministers had no way of knowing, and those who did dared not speak of it. And so, Qin Ye took his leave from court openly and without explanation. Matters were referred to the crown prince, and only if he was unable to resolve them would they be brought to Qin Ye directly. Qin Ming, before even ascending the throne, was already carrying out the duties of an emperor.

When Huayang entered the palace in tears, seeking her father’s support, Qin Ye was listening to music within his chambers. The empress, of late, had become nearly invisible, having tried to prove that Qin Ye was an imposter. Yet he was, in every way that mattered, the true Emperor of Yong’an—at least physically. As for the soul within, how could mere mortals in this world hope to discern such matters? Besides, if the system lacked even the ability to conceal this much, it would have long since ensured that supernatural forces had no place in this world. Such a pathetic system deserved a new name, lest it shame the many golden-fingered systems elsewhere.

After the empress’s attempt was discovered, she was placed under house arrest. Huayang knew nothing of this, nor did the empress see fit to tell her.

After listening to Huayang’s weeping for some time, Qin Ye halted the music and asked, “What is it you wish to do?”

Huayang was taken aback. “Do?”

“You’ve come to the palace to complain, so clearly you can no longer tolerate the Xue family. If that’s the case, what is it you want? Should the Xue family be exiled to the frontier, or do you wish to see their heads fall?”

Huayang froze. “No, Father, I haven’t suffered so greatly. Yulang treats me quite well.”

“Oh? And what does this ‘treating you well’ entail?”

Racking her brains, Huayang finally recalled something and lifted her head with confidence: “When I was gravely ill, Yulang personally cooked a pot of meat broth for me. A true gentleman is said to stay far from the kitchen, but Yulang made an exception for me. That alone shows how deeply he cares.”

Qin Ye felt only disgust. If word got out that making him a bowl of soup was enough to win his favor, every scholar in the realm would be scrambling to outdo each other in the kitchen. Learn all your scholarly and martial arts, only to sell your talents to the emperor’s household—such had always been the highest aim. Yet here was Huayang, speaking of such things.

“I see that his attentiveness to you goes far beyond that,” Qin Ye said.

Huayang’s heart leapt. Could it be that Yulang had done even more for her, things her father had heard of?

“Xue Yulang’s devotion includes secretly consorting with his cousin while you were ill, leaving her pregnant, then daring to ask that she be accepted as a favored concubine. No sooner had he taken in this cousin than he brazenly brought a courtesan into the household, neglecting his principal wife for her sake. And as for the Xue family, Madam Xue, though neither humble nor arrogant, actually had my daughter rise before dawn each day to wait outside her courtyard for the chance to greet her upon waking.”

Huayang’s face turned pale. “Father, it wasn’t Mother-in-law’s idea—it was mine…”

“You felt your own status too lofty, that your suffering was somehow diminished by it, so you willingly debased yourself, offering yourself up to be mistreated. Huayang, you are my daughter—yet what are you doing? Did the palace attendants teach you how to be a daughter-in-law, how to endure your mother-in-law’s torments, or how to tolerate your husband's disrespect?”

“No, but Father, as the Xue family’s daughter-in-law, I ought to—”

“There is no such ‘ought.’ You are a princess, and I am the emperor. The laws of the land do not apply to you; only my rules matter.”

Qin Ye looked at Huayang expectantly. “Do you understand?”

“I do, Father. I’ll order my husband to send those two women away. The children can stay; I’ll treat them as my own and raise them with him.”

Qin Ye: …

He immediately regretted the hopeful look he’d given her. With a wave of his hand, he said, “As you wish. Go then. In the future, unless it is urgent, do not come to the palace. After all, you are now the Xue family’s daughter-in-law.”

Huayang murmured her assent. Her heart ached. Did marriage mean she was no longer her father’s daughter? Yet, seeing the impatience on his face, she said nothing more.

She wanted to see the empress, but was told the empress was praying for the Prince of Chu and would see no visitors. Thinking of her brother, Huayang felt genuine sorrow. How could he have died so suddenly?

As soon as Huayang entered the palace, the Xue family grew uneasy—everyone except Xue Yulang. To him, princess or not, she was nothing more than a willful and uncultured woman. Aside from her beauty and noble birth, he saw no merit in her. As for imperial punishment, he had no fear. Given Huayang’s devotion, if the emperor truly wished to act against him, she would be the first to stand in his way.

Xue Yulang was unconcerned, but Madam Xue was anxious. She chided her son for not being more attentive to the princess. After all, a princess’s husband was forbidden by law from taking concubines or keeping mistresses unless she remained childless for three years, and even then, only one or two secondary wives might be allowed, and never with undue favor. Xue Yulang had broken every rule, and Madam Xue could not help but worry.

When Huayang returned and life resumed as normal, Madam Xue finally relaxed. Soon after, the maid who had been pregnant before the wedding gave birth to a son. As soon as the child was born, Huayang eagerly took him in to raise as her own. The maid, resentful, tried to influence Xue Yulang and secretly visited her child whenever possible.

Qin Ye no longer concerned himself with Huayang’s life in the Xue household. He instructed Yang Lao to stop gathering information, and Yang Lao sighed, realizing the emperor truly intended to wash his hands of her.

Yang Lao could not understand how things had come to this. As the emperor’s only son and daughter, both born of the empress, with a grandfather renowned throughout the realm, the crown prince’s position should have been unshakeable. Now, not only was the title lost, but the person as well. What would the Prince of Chu think if he learned of his own supposed death? And as for Princess Huayang, why was she so lost? It would have been better if she had never married, sparing herself such humiliation; even if the old emperor passed, the new one would surely have preserved her honor, for she would have been his only remaining child in name.

But now, everything was ruined.

While Yang Lao was lamenting, Qin Yun, in his grief over the supposed death of his beloved, seized a horse from his attendant and rode out of the capital at breakneck speed. After catching up with the Xie family and nearly wasting away from sorrow, he was finally told the truth by Xie Fanghua herself, unable to bear his suffering any longer.

Qin Yun rebuked Xie Fanghua for faking her death, scolding her for disregarding her father’s grief and committing such an unfilial act.

Xie Fanghua, who had just felt a surge of emotion, gave an awkward but polite smile, withdrawing her gratitude on the spot. But, having revealed herself, and fearing that Qin Yun would inform the Xie family and ruin her plans, she had no choice but to placate him.

It exhausted her. She had nothing to her name, and after faking her death, she’d planned only to find some work in a remote town and support herself and her maid. Even that was hard enough—now she’d been saddled with Qin Yun, who was utterly useless at fending for himself.

He really was every inch the pampered, noble scion he appeared to be. Xie Fanghua had no money left, and unless she found work, they’d starve. As a woman, she could find no employment at all.

Qin Yun, however, was baffled. “Why should you expose yourself in public?”

“Because we have no money.”

“If we’re out of money, just ask the attendants for more. You’re a young lady of a noble house; you shouldn’t have to show yourself in public.”

Xie Fanghua: … Ha!

Why had no one come to collect this young master yet? She honestly wanted to hit him at times.

Qin Yun never carried money—he had no use for it. He did have a jade pendant, a priceless piece given to him by the Emperor of Yong’an upon his birth. Xie Fanghua tried to persuade him to pawn it, but he stubbornly refused.

So be it.

In the end, Xie Fanghua had no choice but to pawn her last piece of jewelry, using the money to buy men’s clothing for herself and her maid. She already had striking, spirited features and possessed a stubborn, unyielding character. After studying the mannerisms of passing men and mimicking them, her disguise was flawless—no one would ever suspect the truth.

Once she began passing as a man and successfully found work, the news of the Prince of Chu’s death finally reached the remote town.

When Qin Yun saw his own obituary, he was dumbstruck, rooted to the spot. He was alive and well—how could his death notice have arrived here?

Xie Fanghua saw it too, but dismissed it. The Prince of Chu was a figure far removed from her world—there was no reason to concern herself.

That is, until Qin Yun, weeping and inconsolable, found her and told her everything, begging her to help him return to the capital. He had to see the emperor, had to reveal the truth that he was still alive.

Xie Fanghua: …

“So you’re the emperor’s own son, the Prince of Chu?”

“Yes.”

“I may not know much of politics, being a woman, but even I know that for a prince to leave the capital without permission is a capital offense.” She added, with a glimmer of hope, “Surely Your Highness left with an imperial edict?”

“I—when I heard news of your death, my mind went blank. I left the capital without a thought.”

Xie Fanghua: … Oh, dear heavens.

The Prince of Chu’s attendants: Miss Xie understands us!