Chapter 154: Let Me Think
Master Huifan said three months, not three years or thirty years.
Lan Wu felt there was nothing unacceptable about it, but to make Chu Mingheng agree, she had to make him understand the severity of the matter—she had to say things he couldn’t accept.
Sure enough, after hearing her words, Chu Mingheng’s expression turned particularly terrifying. He couldn’t help but tighten his embrace around the figure in his arms, yet he still couldn’t bring himself to agree.
“After an emperor’s death, imperial concubines without children are buried with him. If you are gone, leaving me alone, I might not even die a peaceful death—” Lan Wu solemnly told him these conjectures, which were also a possible future. Each word pierced the heart, making anyone who heard it turn pale.
“Stop it!” Chu Mingheng interrupted her.
But Lan Wu didn’t stop: “Then why don’t we just die together? It’s not like you intend to live properly anyway.”
“I said stop—!” Chu Mingheng covered her incessant mouth, his hand trembling with anger. Looking down, he saw Lan Wu’s face already wet with tears. His hand covered half her face, dampened by the wetness.
His tone softened as he reached for a handkerchief, hurriedly fetching it to wipe Lan Wu’s tears. “No one said anything about dying. Who’s going to die? We must both live well. I will naturally stay by your side, A’Wu.”
“In spring, I’ll take you to see the flowers; in summer, we’ll rest in the shade under the trees; in autumn, we’ll fly kites; in winter, we’ll admire the snow. I’ll be with you through all four seasons. How could I ever leave you alone?”
“Alright, alright, don’t cry anymore.”
Yet the more he spoke like this, the sadder Lan Wu felt. Unable to hold back her tears, she buried her head and wept bitterly, her sobs uncontrollable, a clear sign of her genuine distress.
Chu Mingheng anxiously comforted her, noticing the handkerchief was already soaked with tears. He lifted Lan Wu onto his lap, letting her cry it out properly.
Lan Wu had kept everything bottled up inside. The strange events of her past and present lives were her greatest secret, and now she faced another dilemma she couldn’t resolve.
Though crying couldn’t solve the problem, it could solve Chu Mingheng.
After Lan Wu finished crying, the hall fell silent. Chu Mingheng continued to gently pat her back, lifting her tear-stained, flushed face and using his own sleeping robe to softly wipe it clean.
After all, his robe was already dampened by her tears—there was no need for further fuss.
“A’Wu, it’s not that I won’t agree, it’s that I don’t trust others.” Chu Mingheng gently rubbed the corner of Lan Wu’s eye with his thumb as he told her, “If you leave me for three months and something happens in between, what should I do?”
“You see, I’ve already gambled once before and ended up like this. How could I dare let you leave my side again?”
After saying this, Chu Mingheng seemed to ponder something, or perhaps nothing at all. He reined in his emotions, rose from the bed, and changed his clothes.
“A’Wu, let me think about it. I’ll call someone in to help you freshen up.”
Lan Wu lay on the bed, staring blankly at his retreating figure. Outside the window, palace lanterns had been lit, and night was approaching.
Chu Mingheng left Yilan Hall. Just as he was about to board the Imperial Carriage, his vision suddenly darkened. He steadied himself against the wooden frame, supporting his body.
Chen Kangan, standing nearby, rushed forward to support him, anxiously calling out, “Your Majesty!”
“Silence.” Chu Mingheng took a moment to recover, feeling a sharp, throbbing pain at his temple as if a vein were about to burst.
After a short while, he finally regained his composure.
Chu Mingheng opened his eyes, his expression inscrutable as he extended his hand to examine his palm, then clenched it into a fist. He boarded the Imperial Carriage and said in a low voice, “To the Imperial Prison. What just happened must not be spoken of. Anyone who dares to gossip will lose their tongue.”
A chorus of acknowledgments echoed around him.
The Imperial Carriage headed toward the Imperial Prison.
In Yilan Hall, the palace maids entered to attend to Lan Wu as she washed and rose. Upon seeing the tear stains on her face, they were taken aback.
“Your Ladyship, what happened? Your eyes look swollen.” Dan Shan called for hot water to be brought in. Seeing Lan Wu’s face, she grew wary, recalling the expression on His Majesty’s face when he left earlier. Could it be that His Majesty had struck her?
Although they had faintly heard Lan Wu crying in the hall earlier that afternoon, without any summons from inside, they could only wait anxiously outside. They had comforted themselves with the thought that His Majesty had always doted on Lan Wu and would never punish her. Besides, what wrong could Lan Wu possibly have done?
Lan Wu gently picked up a towel soaked in hot water and wiped her face. Hearing Dan Shan’s question, she replied softly, “It’s nothing.”
After washing her face, Lan Wu appeared somewhat refreshed. Once dressed, she asked where Chu Mingheng was.
“His Majesty left earlier. Does Your Ladyship wish to see him?”
He left?
Lan Wu glanced at the sky, unsure where Chu Mingheng had gone. She recalled his words—though they made sense, the matter couldn’t simply be left unresolved.
He said he needed time to think. She hoped he truly would.
“Your Ladyship, in a couple of days, court ladies will come to teach you the etiquette for the investiture ceremony. There’s no need to worry or be afraid. These rituals aren’t difficult to learn, and the court ladies wouldn’t dare trouble you.” Dan Shan poured her a cup of warm water and smiled gently. “I wonder if the Ministry of Rites has chosen a date for the investiture yet. They should send someone to inform Your Ladyship in the next few days.”
Lan Wu was momentarily stunned. Though she knew appointing a Guifei wasn’t as simple as issuing an imperial decree, she had never been one herself nor witnessed another’s appointment. Hearing Dan Shan mention the Ministry of Rites selecting a date for the ceremony only added to her headache.
Right now, none of that was the most important.
She had to go to Changyong Mountain for three months. The investiture ceremony could wait until her return, or perhaps it could be simplified. In the coming days, she needed to persuade Chu Mingheng.
Thinking of Chu Mingheng, Lan Wu felt another wave of worry. Both versions of Chu Mingheng were difficult to handle.
She couldn’t just sprout wings and fly to Changyong Mountain herself.
Lan Wu held the cup, lowering her gaze to quietly observe the crystal vase on the table. As night fell, the candlelight in the hall filtered through the vase, casting shimmering reflections like flowing silver, a truly beautiful sight.
“Auntie, you’ve seen His Majesty as a child.” Lan Wu gently traced the shadow reflected by the vase and sighed. “Was he always this stubborn, even back then?”
Dan Shan assumed the two had merely had a minor disagreement. While Lan Wu could speak of it, she herself found it difficult to comment.
Hoping to reconcile them, she straightened her expression and replied, “His Majesty grew up by Empress Dowager Jingwen’s side. Even as a child, he was quiet and intelligent. Even the Grand Tutor said that despite his youth, His Majesty had a mature and calculating mind.”
Such a crown prince naturally lived up to everyone’s expectations.
“Once His Majesty sets his mind on something, not even ten oxen could pull him back. Sometimes, when Her Ladyship couldn’t win an argument with him, she would fall silent, feeling both helpless and amused, wondering where he came up with so many reasons.”
“Although Her Majesty seldom had moments of joy, in the early years when Your Majesty was young, Kunning Palace was often in a state of chaos. Your Majesty always managed to do things… that were utterly unexpected, yet in the end could explain them in a way that left no room for argument.”
As if recalling something, Dan Shan’s tone carried a hint of nostalgia.
From her words, Lan Wu also learned of a different Chu Mingheng—one without imperial authority, full of childish innocence.