Chapter Thirteen: The Office of Imperial Lineage

“Your Highness, Crown Prince,” one of Ye Qianchen’s personal guards rushed over, breathless and anxious, speaking in a flustered tone, “The Emperor has just left the Kun Palace and is heading toward the Ministry of Clan Affairs, and then…”

Ye Qianchen, initially displeased by his guard’s lack of composure, softened upon hearing this, sensing something amiss. He cut him off, urging, “And then what?”

The guard finally caught his breath and spoke quickly, “The Emperor has summoned Physician Hu, insisting that he must learn the truth today. He brought Physician Hu along to protect the Fifth Princess’s life. He said that as long as she’s not dead, he’ll punish her as harshly as possible.”

Even Sui Gaolang could no longer think of anything else; it was clear the Emperor would not rest until he uncovered the matter.

Ye Qianzhi, hearing this, turned to Ye Qianchen, who seemed lost in thought, and said, “Brother, Father will not let this matter pass easily. He will demand the truth from Ling’er herself. But given Ling’er’s temperament and what we’ve just seen, she absolutely won’t speak. Now, she’ll have to endure some suffering—regardless, Father will not take her life.”

“There’s nothing else we can do,” Ye Qianchen sighed, shaking his head, “But Qiange hasn’t finished the surgery yet. If torture causes her wounds to reopen…”

He sighed again, “Who knows what Ling’er is thinking, or who is worth such sacrifices from her.”

Less than twenty-four hours had passed since the incident, yet everyone felt as if a heavy stone weighed upon their hearts, suffocating them. It seemed as though the course of events had been forcibly altered.

“Brother, Second Brother, the surgery is over.” Ye Qianmu emerged from the room, instinctively glancing at Sui Gaolang before turning to speak to Ye Qianchen and the others.

“How is she? Has she woken up?” Ye Qianzhi tilted his head, glancing behind Ye Qianmu, seeing nothing, and was about to enter.

“Second Brother,” Ye Qianmu blocked Ye Qianzhi’s path, his face filled with sorrow. The other three were shaken by this grief. Ye Qianchen and Ye Qianzhi immediately turned and entered, seeing Ye Qianling lying motionless on the operating table, with Ye Qiange silently suffering beside her, his pain barely concealed.

Ye Qianzhi rushed to Ye Qianling’s side, seeing her eyes tightly shut and her face pallid, he grabbed Ye Qiange’s collar, “Qiange, what happened? It was just a bone fracture—how could something go wrong? You’ve studied medicine for years; I refuse to believe this could be a mishap.”

Ye Qianchen came over, pressed his fingers to Ye Qianling’s carotid artery, and his expression eased. He turned to Ye Qianzhi, “Qianzhi, look closely. Qiange has packed away all his instruments. What do you think could be wrong?”

Ye Qianzhi, hearing this, looked at Ye Qiange’s barely visible smile, “Second Brother, because of Mother, we’re all in low spirits. I wanted to lighten the mood for you and Brother.”

“What mood is there to lighten!” Ye Qianzhi snapped angrily, glancing at his unsmiling elder brother before turning to Ye Qiange, “I have no patience for your attempts at levity right now.”

Ye Qiange, seeing the lack of cheer from the two, adopted a more serious tone, “Second Brother, what’s happened? Has something else occurred?”

Ye Qianmu sensed something was wrong as well. Sui Gaolang, seeing Ye Qianchen and Ye Qianzhi silent, explained to Ye Qianmu, “Third Princess, the Emperor is arriving soon, and he wants to interrogate the Fifth Princess.”

“Interrogation upon entering the Ministry of Clan Affairs? What is Father doing?” Ye Qianmu exclaimed in disbelief.

“Father doesn’t believe Ling’er killed Ye Qianhao; he must have discovered something and is eager to question her,” Ye Qianchen replied, gazing at Ye Qianling, who lay unconscious from the anesthesia, his face flashing with pain. He said to Sui Gaolang, “Lord Sui, regarding the matter we discussed earlier, I wonder if you will agree? While Father is present, I’m powerless. But at other times, I hope you will grant me this favor. I give you my word—I will not go back on it.”

Sui Gaolang glanced at Ye Qianmu, nodded in acknowledgment.

Ye Qianling had fought on the battlefield for three years; to claim she never suffered injury would be absurd—no one would believe it. Warfare inevitably brings wounds, and her tolerance for anesthesia had increased. With only a small dose administered, she awoke.

Opening her eyes, she felt something soft beneath her, like a straw mat. Looking down, she realized she was still in the number one cell in the prison. Any movement tugged at her chest wound, causing her to shudder in pain.

Just awakened, her mind was muddled, a familiar numbness flooding her body.

Anesthesia? Ye Qianling recognized the sensation. Then, feeling a sharp pain in her chest, she pulled aside her collar and saw her chest tightly wrapped in bandages—she understood.

The knotting method of these bandages belonged only to Ye Qiange.

Ye Qiange had studied medicine under Hu Guangshen, yet he could never break his habit of tying a dead knot when bandaging wounds. When asked why, he said it was to distinguish his work from others; as a future divine physician, he must have a unique trait.

Seeing this bandaging style, Ye Qianling’s bloodless lips curled into a smile. She tried to struggle up, but her arms were too weak, so she resigned herself to lying back on the straw mat.

Alone now, she could finally think about how to respond to this crisis. Since the incident, she had barely had time to sit and contemplate her next move.

This matter would not simply pass—even if everyone else could treat it as history, she could not. After all, her mother had chosen death for her sake. This hurdle might never be surmountable in her lifetime.

Ye Qianling was human, too. She wished to blame everything on Wan Feng. Had it not been for him, she would not have suffered so much; her mother and brother would not have died. She wanted to vent all her rage upon Wan Feng, hoping for relief.

But Wan Feng had threatened her with Hong’er—even if she cured him, she feared he would keep a trump card. Any sensible person would do the same. And his son had died horribly because of her—her internal conflict nearly tore her apart.

So be it. Step by step, she thought, pressing her hand firmly to her freshly operated chest, closing her eyes to contemplate her mother, and wondering how she could ever be worthy of her.

To kill or not to kill Wan Feng—that was the question weighing on Ye Qianling’s heart. She wanted someone to talk to, someone to tell her what to do, how to be worthy of everyone.

“The Emperor is here!” A piercing announcement rang out, jolting Ye Qianling from her sorrow and conflicted thoughts over her mother’s death.

“Your Majesty, why have you come so late at night?” Sun Xiang, chief of the Ministry of Clan Affairs, had been drinking and merrymaking with his concubines when the news arrived. He hastily threw on his clothes and rushed back, barely dressed.

Emperor Guangde ignored Sun Xiang’s nervous confusion, glancing at him and uttering, “You didn’t know I sent Ye Qianling here?”

“Ah?” Sun Xiang was completely stunned. He knew Ye Qianling was implicated in a murder case, that the Empress had committed suicide to protect the Fifth Princess, but he hadn’t expected her to be sent to the Ministry of Clan Affairs. Sun Xiang regretted having been too absorbed with his concubines to heed the servants’ warnings.

“Your Majesty, I…” Sun Xiang stammered, unsure how to speak.

“In your private affairs, I have no right to interfere. But in this matter, I demand an answer. Otherwise, don’t blame me for showing no mercy,” Emperor Guangde said, knowing Sun Xiang was fond of pleasure and had several concubines; his private life was unrestrained, but he was efficient and competent, so Guangde had never faulted him for it.

“Yes, yes,” Sun Xiang agreed hastily, seeing the Emperor’s dark expression and feeling anxious.

“Your son greets you, Father.” Ye Qianling summoned all her strength to rise and, as Emperor Guangde entered the cell, knelt on the ground, head bowed, refusing to meet his gaze.

Emperor Guangde was taken aback for a moment by Ye Qianling’s frail appearance, but steadied himself, expressionless, ordering, “Everyone leave. No one is to enter without my command.”

Ye Qianling had not expected Emperor Guangde to act this way; she had already steeled herself, prepared to face death at his hands.

“Father, I’m sorry.” As soon as Ye Qianling spoke, tears spilled uncontrollably from her eyes.

Emperor Guangde saw her weep instantly and, after a moment’s contemplation, spoke with piercing words, “Ling’er, seeing you like this, I don’t know whether I should trust you.”

Ye Qianling broke down completely at these words, her voice trembling, tears impossible to restrain. She desperately wished to stop them, resenting her weakness, but she could not, “I’m sorry, Father. I’ve truly failed you, and Mother even more.”

“You can shed tears in a second, lie without blinking, and even your mother died to protect you, yet you still say nothing. Perhaps you’ve grown up, and I no longer recognize you,” Emperor Guangde sighed, his eyes moist.

Ye Qianling heard the sadness in his voice and couldn’t help but raise her head, “Father…”

She didn’t know what to say, was at a loss for words, unable to respond.

Emperor Guangde, hearing her call him, turned and met her gaze, unable to hide the pain and reluctance in his eyes.

“I ask you, what do you think life is?” This unexpected question left Ye Qianling even more bewildered; such a lofty philosophical query made her think only of Ye Qianhao’s situation. She answered, “Your son was blinded by impulse, and now deeply regrets it. I truly don’t know how to face everyone.”

Emperor Guangde’s face darkened frighteningly at this response, his hands clenched until his knuckles cracked. For a moment, his disappointment nearly overwhelmed him, but fortunately Ye Qianling was not looking him in the eye.