Underneath A Thousand Skies ✔️

40 Favoring Qie Over Wife (40)

While Song Jia was distracted with her thoughts, Zhao Cheng caught her hand and held it in his own. He swung them back and forth, acting very playful.

"Wang ye..." Song Jia warned.

The Emperor was sick, and the third prince was in a very good mood. No matter how you look at it, it doesn't bode well if anybody sees.

Zhao Cheng looked at her, brimming with all smiles. "Hm?"

Song Jia's tone became severe. "Don't smile."

Zhao Cheng lost his smile.

"Jia'er, what's wrong?" he asked in concern.

"We are going to visit His Majesty," Song Jia emphasized. She poked his waist a few times to drive the point home. "Wang ye shouldn't be so carefree."

Although Song Jia's words were vague, Zhao Cheng immediately understood. He wanted to smile again but restrained himself. "Jia'er's concern makes benwang very happy."

Song Jia almost rolled her eyes. Did the northern barbarians accidentally knock his head? She couldn't be bothered to argue with him and flipped his hand to give him a small, squishy round pellet, "Wang ye, please chew this as soon as we come inside His Majesty's bedchamber."

He squinted at it. "What is this?"

"Does wang ye trust qie?"

Zhao Cheng's lips curved, but there was a flicker of darkness in his eyes. "If I cannot trust you, then there is no one left in this world I can."

He knew such words were dangerous...almost foolish. In the palace, even blood brothers could slip poison into a wine cup, and the gentlest smile could conceal a dagger. Yet when it came to Li Jia, all of that caution vanished. He trusted her enough to eat whatever she handed him. His trust in her was not reason—it was instinct, carved deep enough that even suspicion, that second nature of royals, dared not take root.

Song Jia raised her eyebrow at his proclamation, but did not take it to heart. "Then qie hopes wang ye will chew this pellet vigorously." 

Tianqing Hall stood to the west of Weiyang Palace, the main imperial residence. Though the grandeur of Weiyang Palace embodied the Son of Heaven's authority, it was far too vast for intimate affairs of state, and so His Majesty often handled daily governance and audiences within the smaller, warmer confines of this hall.

When Zhao Cheng and Song Jia finally entered the Emperor's bedchamber—situated at the leftmost wing where the lamps burned low and the air smelled faintly of medicinal herbs—all the imperial children had already arrived. The four imperial princes and the six princesses had put on anxious expressions, as if they were the ones who were on their deathbed. Like what Song Jia had instructed, Zhao Cheng sneakily tossed the pellet into his mouth. She also put an identical pellet inside her mouth.

The higher-ranked consorts all gathered around the dragon bed, which was lined with a silk-satin curtain. The interior curtain that was decorated with pennants fluttered,  bringing along a light scent that came from the ornamental perfumed sachets sewed into its folds.

Mei Guifei, Zhao Cheng's birth mother, was currently feeding Hongwu Emperor thick, wild duck soup from a red-lacquered bowl inlaid with silver clouds. The Empress was clasping the Emperor's hand, and Consort De, mother to the fourth prince, was wiping his sweat with a silver thread embroidered handkerchief.

With all these beauties surrounding His Majesty, it was a very picturesque scene, however it was uncertain who exactly among these beauties caused his illness in the first place.

Song Jia looked at the quiet Consort Xian who was glaring at her son. Most likely, she had already given up on the first prince ever succeeding the throne. Even if he succeeded, he didn't have an heir. With nine daughters, the best he could hope for was to stabilize his foothold through marriage alliances.

After their arrival was announced, Zhao Cheng and Song Jia quickly performed their greetings.

"Fuhuang, please forgive this son who is unfilial, managing to visit fuhuang only now."

Zhao Cheng's low voice that had a hint of an apology echoed throughout the silent bedchamber.

Song Jia kept her head down and adjusted her expression into that of reverence, following the trend inside the room.

Several coughs answered Zhao Cheng before a weary voice said, "Zhen knows that you have fought a very fierce battle in the north. To show your filial duty to zhen by defending the country, zhen couldn't ask for anything more."

Song Jia's eyelids twitched. Jingshao Emperor was such an old fox, isn't this indirectly announcing that Zhao Cheng's victory was due to him? But this was also a good thing; the more he was glorified by Zhao Cheng's achievements, the more he would look upon Zhao Cheng in a favorable light.

Just as Zhao Cheng was about to respond, he felt as if his mouth had been set on fire, his cheeks beginning to turn red. Tears filled his eyes, and the words that came out became interspersed with sniffles.

"Fuhuang...should take care to recover his health...imperial son only hopes...to lessen fuhuang's worry by defending the borders..."

The entire room, shocked speechless by this sudden outburst of emotion, "..."

Song Jia was also crying beside him, large teardrops rolling down her cheeks. Her nose had turned red, her tongue recoiling inside her mouth from the extreme spiciness.

As expected from the jellybean that was customized to taste like the hottest chilli pepper in the world!

Jingshao Emperor, the main target of Song Jia's little trick, was stunned. Since the third prince was young, he never showed too much excessive emotions, what more crying in front of so many people. He remembered that when Cheng'er was just a little boy, he would always stand in the corner of the hall with a gloomy look, his small face appearing unusually grave.

He didn't expect...that this reserved child would actually lose his composure out of worry for him...

Without meaning to, the heart inside his chest softened. Imperial Consort Mei also didn't let go of this opportunity, her acting skills having been honed by her years of experience in the imperial harem.

"Cheng'er, don't distress your father anymore, he is blessed by the heavens, of course he will recover..."

Flattery, familial ties, concern, and absolute confidence in the Emperor. In a single sentence, Mei Guifei had expressed all of these. Not to mention, these were also the feelings that a monarch highly valued. After Mei Guifei finished speaking, she bit her trembling lips as her red-rimmed eyes looked with blame at Zhao Cheng.

Anyone could see, Mei Guifei was only afraid that she would be like her son, losing her composure and showing His Majesty her weak side too.

Song Jia didn't raise her eyes and continued staring at the floor, afraid that they would see the bright light that flashed briefly across them.

As expected, behind every man that ascended the dragon throne, was a truly capable mother who schemed and plotted behind the scenes.

A/N:

Busyness^∞ (ಥ﹏ಥ)

This arc is about to end and I'm very excited to write it...only...QAQ...no time. I usually re-read my drafts at least four times to make sure I didn't have any mistakes, but I just posted this one by only checking twice. My head is feeling a bit woozy because of lack of sleep...maybe I'll update tomorrow after I sleep... ⌈▓͟⌉ꆟ)ꍞ