Volume One, Chapter 19: Why Choose Her?

The curling smoke rising from the agarwood burner diffused softly through the air, carrying a faint, soothing fragrance that deepened the solemn and dignified atmosphere of the hall.

Consort Chen, adorned in a richly embroidered deep purple palace robe, sat gracefully on a pearwood chair inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Her composed and serene expression bore an air of dignity, yet her eyes, peering through the drifting smoke, revealed a trace of concealed worry as they rested on the young man seated before her in a wheelchair.

A palace maid respectfully placed a freshly brewed jasmine tea by the table, but Consort Chen did not reach for it; instead, she cast a brief, indifferent glance before returning her attention to her son.

Shen Lingfeng sat upright, his slender figure clad in a blue robe that accentuated his cool and refined aura. His gaze was gentle yet carried an unmistakable firmness that brooked no refusal, as if even the curling smoke could not disturb his calm.

“Why did you suddenly decide to come and pay your respects today?” Consort Chen spoke first, her tone even but tinged with a subtle teasing. “You usually claim to be busy, yet today is quite unusual.”

“Mother, you have cared for me so devotedly over the years; I should be paying respects every day,” Shen Lingfeng replied, his voice smooth as jade, a faint smile at the corner of his lips. “It’s just that recent affairs have been demanding, and I have neglected you—please forgive me.”

Consort Chen emitted a soft snort and shifted her gaze with a hint of deeper meaning. “Busy with affairs? Just a few days ago, your father mentioned that you even avoided attending the morning court sessions. Are you avoiding him?”

Shen Lingfeng’s eyes softened, and he smiled slightly. “I merely think there’s no need to strive to excel in everything. Perhaps Father is overthinking.”

Consort Chen cast him a glance of mild displeasure, then lowered her eyes to his legs, her tone softening somewhat. “How is your leg healing? The weather has turned colder lately—has the pain returned at all?”

Shen Lingfeng shook his head lightly, his tone relaxed. “Thank you for your concern, Mother. It has improved these days. Speaking of which, I have something I wish to discuss with you.”

“Oh?” Consort Chen straightened slightly, her eyes filled with curiosity. “What is it?”

Shen Lingfeng paused briefly, a gentle light flickering in his eyes. Though his voice remained calm, there was a solemn weight to his words. “I have someone in my heart, and I wish for you, Mother, to make the arrangements.”

At these words, Consort Chen was momentarily taken aback, then a gleam of delight shone in her eyes.

Since his leg injury, her son had grown cold and distant in temperament, avoiding talk of marriage altogether, always claiming his current state would only be a burden to others.

She had long worried about his future but had been unable to persuade him. Now that he had taken the initiative to bring it up, how could she not be overjoyed?

Her movements faltered at the news, but soon her eyes sparkled with joy, seeming to shed some of the weariness etched between her brows. She hastily set down her teacup, unable to hide her excitement. “You… you’re serious? Tell me quickly—whose daughter is she?”

Shen Lingfeng nodded slightly, his voice steady. “She is the eldest daughter of the Lin family, Lin Chuyao.”

“Lin Chuyao?” Consort Chen’s brow furrowed as she pondered for a moment before her expression shifted to one of hesitation. “Is she the one who was previously rejected? I heard her looks were damaged, and her reputation isn’t exactly good…”

Her gaze darkened, her face cooling somewhat. “Lingfeng, your status is noble, and there are plenty of respectable and beautiful noblewomen in the capital. Why choose such a woman who would invite gossip?”

Unmoved by her reproachful tone, Shen Lingfeng replied calmly, “Is it because she was rejected before, or because her appearance was harmed? Mother, do you believe these rumors?”

Consort Chen was momentarily speechless, her expression becoming complicated.

Her fingers tapped the armrest lightly, and after a pause, her voice softened somewhat. “Lingfeng, it’s not that I’m being picky, but such a marriage would invite ridicule if word spread. I could provide her with enough wealth to live comfortably for the rest of her days—so why marry her?”

Shen Lingfeng looked at her quietly, his clear eyes shining with gentle resolve. He spoke slowly, “Mother, do you remember the flower-viewing banquet five years ago?”

The flower-viewing banquet five years ago—Consort Chen’s thoughts drifted back. Her gaze settled on the sunlight filtering through the window lattice, as if seeing once more those darkest days.

At that time, Shen Lingfeng had just turned sixteen, headstrong and youthful, leading troops into battle for the first time. But no good news came; instead, the dreadful word arrived that he had been struck by a stealthy enemy arrow, his kneecap nearly shattered.

Consort Chen had nearly fainted and summoned the imperial physicians through the night. Yet, one after another, they shook their heads with sighs, saying the poison had penetrated the bone and the injury was too severe—unless a miracle occurred, he would never stand again.

“Is there truly no cure for Lingfeng’s leg?” she asked the last physician tremblingly, tears streaming uncontrollably.

The physician lowered his head in silence, then after a long moment spoke with difficulty, “Your Highness, I beg your pardon, but the Third Prince’s injury is beyond human remedy. Unless... unless Physician Du himself comes.”

“Physician Du?” She clung to the final hope, asking urgently, “Where is he? Summon him at once to heal my son!”

But the physician shook his head with a sigh. “Physician Du resigned a year ago to travel freely. His whereabouts are unknown…”

Consort Chen felt the world spin, barely able to stand. Clinging to that last shred of hope, she sent people far and wide to seek Physician Du, only to return disappointed time and again.

Those days, she wept each day, watching Shen Lingfeng struggle in pain on his sickbed, as if his soul had been drained away.

What broke her heart most was his transformation—from initial struggle to later silence. He shut himself away, refusing to speak to anyone, even she, his mother, could not draw near.

“You were like a prisoner in a cold cage then. Your father and I saw it all but were powerless,” Consort Chen’s voice trembled slightly, a tear glistening in her eye. “I thought... your life would be like that forever.”

She lifted her gaze to Shen Lingfeng, her eyes laced with a complex mixture of inquiry. “Later, you suddenly revived, no longer confined to your chambers. I thought you had come to terms with it. Now, hearing you mention the flower-viewing banquet five years ago, could it be that...”

A faint smile curved Shen Lingfeng’s lips, his tone tinged with a gentle nostalgia. “Mother, do you remember? That banquet was arranged by you, hoping to ease my mind.”

Consort Chen pondered carefully, a sudden understanding dawning. “It seems so... but you were so cold then, I thought you didn’t want to engage with any of the ladies.”

Shen Lingfeng chuckled softly. “Indeed, I wanted to see no one, only to escape. But it was at that banquet that I saw her.”