The Slender Waist-Chapter 662 - 477: Who Inherits the Ancestral System
Despite the Imperial Court’s deliberate concealment, the tragic news from Yongshou Palace still spread to the public. The Young Emperor lay unconscious, and the Empress Dowager suffered a stroke and was bedridden.
This was not only a matter of great importance to the royal family but also concerned the wellbeing of the people.
The atmosphere in the palace was tense, and rumors ran rampant among the populace, leaving everyone on edge. The joy of the New Year festivities seemed to have dissipated overnight. There were still lanterns and night tours on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month as usual, but the excitement had diminished.
If the Young Emperor were to pass away, who would succeed the throne?
Everyone was waiting for a definitive answer...
Although hope was slim, Feng Yun still sent someone on a fast horse back to Huaxi to seek advice from Doctor Yao, and then she rushed to the palace every day.
She was anxious and busy.
Her sleep decreased, and she often tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Pei Jue was the same.
He stayed in Chongzheng Hall every day until night before returning to his residence, refusing to rest, and staying up deep into the night poring over documents by lamplight.
"Lady," Xiaoman said as she entered with a furrowed brow, her face filled with worry.
"Reading at night like this is bad for the eyes."
Feng Yun looked up, her expression indifferent.
"You should go back to rest early. You’re newly married; don’t keep Zuo Zhong waiting."
Xiaoman pouted slightly, "Big Brother Zuo is also on duty tonight."
She then slowly walked to Feng Yun’s side, placed her hands on her shoulders, and gently kneaded them.
"Big Brother Zuo and I are the same. Our masters have been kind to us, and our foremost duty is to serve them well. Wherever our masters are, there our home is..."
Her voice was soft and delicate. After marriage, she was no longer the naive girl she once was. Her face seemed much softer, her brows relaxed, her eyes bright, and her lips curled into a smile whenever she spoke.
Clearly, it was a good marriage.
Zuo Zhong was an excellent husband as well.
Feng Yun was happy for her, patted her hand, and turned her head to say,
"Stop kneading, go check on the soup I asked for in the kitchen to see if it’s ready."
Xiaoman complied, "Yes."
-
When Feng Yun and Xiaoman, carrying the soup bowl, reached the study, Pei Jue wasn’t the only one there; a few clients and subordinates from the residence were also gathered.
There was a clear look of surprise in Pei Jue’s eyes upon seeing Feng Yun, but it quickly faded.
"Why isn’t Lady Yun resting yet?"
This was the first time since their marriage that Feng Yun had personally brought him food, and she did so gently—Pei Jue was unaccustomed to it.
"How could your consort sleep if the King is not resting?"
Feng Yun took the soup bowl out of the basket, served it in a delicate white jade porcelain bowl, tasted it with a spoon, and spoke softly,
"This is astragalus and carp stew. It’s scalding hot when taken out of the bowl. It cools just enough on the way to the study to be the perfect temperature for eating. Your Majesty, please try it."
Pei Jue pushed the documents aside, glanced at Feng Yun, took the bowl, and without a word, began to swallow the soup spoonful by spoonful.
"Slow down, watch out for fish bones. Don’t choke..."
Pei Jue grunted in response, graciously finishing the soup, and then nodded at Feng Yun.
"Good soup."
A smile curved Feng Yun’s brows, "Doctor Yao said this soup rejuvenates, warming the spleen and restoring vital energy, making it most suitable for nourishing the body in winter."
She spoke earnestly, but Pei Jue didn’t respond.
He set down the soup bowl and wiped his lips, his cool gaze turning to the subordinates,
"You all may retire for the night."
The subordinates responded in unison and bowed to Pei Jue and Feng Yun before departing.
Pei Jue then swept a glance over Zuo Zhong and his wife Xiaoman.
"You two may also withdraw."
Zuo Zhong and Xiaoman exchanged glances, "Yes."
Xiaoman tidied up the soup bowl and basket silently and left.
Zuo Zhong stood quietly outside, waiting for her.
She smiled and lowered her head, "Big Brother Zuo."
Zuo Zhong extended his hand.
Xiaoman looked down for a moment, "It’s not heavy."
Zuo Zhong didn’t speak. He took the food basket from her hands and walked ahead. Xiaoman pursed her lips, a shy smile on her face, as she followed behind him.
The courtyard’s lanterns spread a dim yellow light.
The path was damp and slippery. She was careful not to step on her skirt and walked with caution.
Zuo Zhong normally walked very fast, but when Xiaoman was with him, he would unconsciously slow down his pace, even looking back to wait for her occasionally.
Looking down, Xiaoman could see his shadow cast by the lanterns; looking up, she’d see his stern, upright face.
There was none of the intimacy seen in so-called loving couples, nor the passionate beating of hearts that made one blush—even the tenderness at night was restrained and orderly...
It was different from the marriage Xiaoman had imagined.
But she was content.
What she wanted was exactly this kind of stability.
He had given her money, his person, and in life, everything depended and indulged her...
His love was not a turbulent river or ocean but a gentle stream, full of tender care...
This was Xiaoman’s peaceful life.
-
There were no others in the study, just a round-bottomed oil lamp with four wicks, quietly burning beside the desk.
Pei Jue gestured for Feng Yun to sit by his side.
"Now you can speak."
Feng Yun was slightly taken aback, "Speak about what?"
Pei Jue’s gaze on her held an indescribable hesitation.
"Doesn’t Lady Yun suspect me?"
Realizing the man had taken the phrase "restoring vital energy" to heart, Feng Yun looked into Pei Jue’s sharp eyes, and it dawned on her. Pei Jue must have a lot on his mind.
It seemed that in Pei Jue’s eyes, she was not a kind-hearted person, but rather a femme fatale who would offer favors with ill intent, aptly described by the saying, "unprovoked generosity is either a trap or thievery."
She said, "I shouldn’t have brought the King a late-night snack, it has led to unnecessary misunderstandings."
Pei Jue watched her carefully, remaining silent.
Her arrival in the middle of the night with food was highly unusual, how could it not arouse suspicion?
But at this moment, he could not voice such words.
Feng Yun’s eyebrows inadvertently rose, "Seeing the Princely Heir so diligent in governance, I can’t help but feel uneasy... The Emperor and the Empress Dowager are both bedridden with illness, and the weight of the Imperial Court’s matters rests entirely on the Princely Heir. But this can hardly be a long-term plan... If the Emperor truly does not recover, what does the Princely Heir plan to do?"
After the incident that day, each hurried on their separate ways.
Feng Yun was also somewhat hesitant to discuss the matter, and this was the first time they sat down to talk about it calmly.
If Feng Yun were merely Pei Jue’s wife, according to the ancestral rules, she would not be allowed to overstep her bounds in such matters of state affairs.
But now she was the Chief Historian of the Royal Mansion, the leading adviser of Pei Jue’s retinue; it was only right for her to ask these questions.
Pei Jue fell silent for a moment, then picked up several folded documents from beside him and placed them in front of Feng Yun.
"Lady Yun, take a look."
Feng Yun read all the documents and then put them back.
She looked up at Pei Jue again, silent.
Pei Jue didn’t speak either.
The wind slipped through the curtains, the oil lamp crackled softly, and the pages of the books on the desk flipped in the breeze, making a rustling sound.
In the imperial family, there is no trivial matter.
Each document pulsated with the underlying currents of the empire.
The court officials openly and secretly tested the waters; contemplating who would succeed in establishing anew. And these documents were direct counsel...
"The Crown Prince of Zhuangxian, Yuan Yue, is intelligent and astute, capable of upholding ancestral traditions, raised and taught at the Empress Dowager’s knee, to perpetuate the imperial line..."
In these past few days, every time Feng Yun entered the palace, she would encounter the Grand Princess, and she could clearly sense a change in the attitudes of the palace people towards the Grand Princess...
This Prince of Zhuangxian was the Grand Princess’s own younger brother from the same mother.
It was hard to tell whether there was the Grand Princess’s instigation behind these documents.
Feng Yun thought of Ayuan lying on the dragon bed, pale and wan, and felt a twinge of pain in her temples.
She asked, "What does the Princely Heir think?"
Pei Jue slowly raised his hand, pressing the center of his brow, and replied with a faint voice:
"Advisers counsel, opportunity must not be missed."
Just eight words.
He had articulated his subordinates’ intentions clearly.
For Pei Jue, this was indeed a good opportunity.
A man’s journey in life is all about fame and wealth.
Though Pei Jue had already reached the pinnacle of fame and fortune, he had not yet reached the limit...
Feng Yun watched him.
"And the Princely Heir, what are your thoughts?"
The dead of night was silent.
The two gazed at each other.
Pei Jue did not respond immediately.
"Crack," a sound echoed.
A stray cat from somewhere had knocked over a clay basin in the courtyard, which shattered on the ground with a dull crash.
Whoosh... the wind surged, slapping against the window sills.
Pei Jue slowly got up and walked to the window, looking out at the night scene, and murmured lowly:
"It’s raining, Lady Yun."
Feng Yun looked at his tall figure and hummed softly.
"Yesterday was the beginning of spring, Princely Heir."
Pei Jue turned his head, scrutinizing Feng Yun’s face, and said calmly:
"If I were to say ’go with the flow’, would Lady Yun be disappointed?"
To go with the flow, the key was to see the current.
Feng Yun’s hand resting on her knee slowly relaxed.
"No matter what the Princely Heir does, I will support him."
Pei Jue’s eyes deepened.
It was a surprise.
And a delight.
He had seen the affection Feng Yun held for Yuan Shangyi.
After the Young Emperor’s incident, Feng Yun controlled her emotions and had not shown excessive sorrow or anxiety.
But Pei Jue knew she wished for the Young Emperor’s health more than anyone else...
His scrutinizing gaze fell on Feng Yun’s face.
There was tenderness and a hint of inquiry.
"I’ve always had a question."
"What is it?" Feng Yun looked at him.
"Why does Lady Yun have such affection for the Young Emperor? In such a short period, as if she were his loving mother?"
His eyes were sharp, as if carrying a blade, as though he wanted to spy out those unspeakable secrets hidden deep within Feng Yun’s heart.
Feng Yun’s heart clenched, and she forced a smile.
"Maternal instinct is natural, and I am no different."
Pei Jue asked, "Is that all?"
Feng Yun frowned slightly and spoke with composure, "What else could there be? Ayuan, frail and ill, is understanding and considerate... would not the Princely Heir feel pity upon seeing him?"
Having said that, she turned the tables.
"Didn’t the Princely Heir choose Ayuan for this very reason? If it wasn’t out of pity, then what did the Princely Heir see in him? Could it be only because he is frail and sick?"
Pei Jue was at a loss for words.
Who could outdo her, with her exquisite mind and glib tongue?
Pei Jue said, "It is indeed so, Lady Yun and I are of one mind."
Of one mind?
Feng Yun smiled faintly.
How could Pei Jue know that the woman sitting before him possessed a heart so desolate and numb, and had experienced such a life...
