Chapter 386: Chapter 310: How About Being Mother and Son Again?
Between the dim skies, Chen Yi’s face was illuminated by the flickering candlelight. The shadowy palace was towering and unfathomable, as if an invisible Buddha enshrouded him within its grasp.
The woman’s face was ashen, yet she continued to smile.
After a moment, her feet, which had been suspended mid-air, gently touched the ground.
The Empress Dowager staggered slightly, her delicate jade-like hand brushing her neck. After a long pause, she steadied herself, raised her phoenix-like eyes, and gazed languidly at the official who owed his elevation to her.
Chen Yi stood motionless, expressionless, as shadows cast by candlelight danced across his face, leaving no clues to his thoughts.
But the Empress Dowager could see that Chen Yi’s hand seemed to be trembling imperceptibly.
"What are you saying?"
After a long silence, the voice finally emerged from the official’s mouth.
"If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have made it to where you are now."
The Empress Dowager responded calmly:
"Both heads of the Xique Pavilion are of the Fourth Rank, and they work flawlessly together. Even if you had the power of gods, you would die right here before this hall."
As her voice fell, Chen Yi looked around. Whether in the light or hidden in the shadows, there was no trace of armed figures.
The Jingren Palace was nearly defenseless.
The Empress Dowager leisurely adjusted her imperial robe, its brilliant yellow hue exuding unparalleled majesty, with a water-drop-shaped pendant embroidered with cloud-dragon motifs hanging before her waist. She strode slowly to the desk, waved her hand, and a pre-written decree floated gently down to Chen Yi’s feet. Chen Yi raised his head to look and saw, under the reflection of the decree, the entwined yellow and red dragons on her robe cascading like flashes of lightning.
The decree descended like a drifting cloud into Chen Yi’s hands. He lowered his gaze.
It was an edict conferring the title of marquis, and not named after a place but graced with an honorable epithet—Marquis Wu’an.
Chen Yi stared at the decree in his hands, then slowly set it down, raising his eyes to look at the woman standing before the desk.
The Empress Dowager placed both hands lightly over her abdomen, descending the steps slowly and deliberately as she said in measured tones:
"Wu Qingsheng should have informed you earlier that I planned to grant you a marquis title. Seeing the decree now, do you understand the weight of my word?"
After a moment of reflection, Chen Yi said:
"How do I know this isn’t just theatrics?"
"Because I am the real deal," the Empress Dowager said boldly.
Chen Yi remained silent, while the Empress Dowager approached him. She studied Chen Yi, observing his brows, his nose, his lips. Her gaze lingered, as though this face had come into existence from her own flesh.
The Empress Dowager suddenly broke into a smile, as alluring as it was commanding. She said:
"Within the Capital City and beyond, there are countless treacherous ministers maligning me for being childless. But take a look—if I had more offspring like you, they wouldn’t even have the courage to slander me."
Chen Yi heard this, his eyes fixed directly on the Empress Dowager as he slowly replied:
"I am not your offspring."
"Then whose offspring are you?" the Empress Dowager asked evenly. "The Tushan Clan?"
Chen Yi did not answer; his silence was tacit acknowledgment.
The Empress Dowager turned away and murmured enigmatically, "How do you know I am not of the Tushan Clan myself?"
Chen Yi was momentarily stunned.
She turned her face slightly, observing Chen Yi out of the corner of her eye as she said:
"She left a trace of her soul within me."
Chen Yi’s pupils contracted. He clasped his hands behind his back, barely able to suppress their trembling.
Meanwhile, the Empress Dowager had already moved forward, her figure slipping away through the side door of Jingren Palace.
Chen Yi turned his head, belatedly following her.
Her bright, resplendent long skirt trailed against the ground, adorned with elusive cloud patterns. Walking along the corridor, the Empress Dowager moved ahead, Chen Yi trailing close behind, occasionally glancing in Zhou Yitang’s direction.
"Rest assured, no one will die,"
The Empress Dowager remarked calmly, sensing his fleeting looks.
Chen Yi turned his head and gazed at the Empress Dowager. What met his eyes was her golden-tasseled hairstyle, radiating a gentle glow akin to peach petals. This woman, after all, was the maternal figure of the dynasty.
What was she truly thinking?
The Empress Dowager walked ahead, and before long, passed through the palace gates. Palace maids on both sides promptly knelt to pay their respects as Chen Yi scanned around, realizing unconsciously they had ventured deep into the inner chambers of the imperial harem.
As they reached a certain area, Lady Suxin approached from afar. She raised her head and cast a glance at Chen Yi, only to quickly lower it, accompanying the Empress Dowager respectfully on her flanks.
Chen Yi paid no mind.
But for Suxin, this marked the first time she had seen this man whom the Empress Dowager refused to mention yet whose presence haunted her relentlessly.
In the days shortly after his return from the underground palace, the Empress Dowager had repeatedly demanded his execution in her half-awake state between dreams.
Beheading to display his severed head, dismemberment by horses, and execution by a thousand cuts—such decrees Suxin had drafted countless times. Each iteration of punishment and accompanying accusation varied, underscoring the Empress Dowager’s deep-seated hatred for this man.
At a time when the female officials within the Chief of Staff’s inner sanctum suspected that Chen Qianhu, despite his contributions in saving the throne, might not survive past the year’s end, the Empress Dowager unexpectedly began to mention him less and less.
It was akin to the detached indifference of ordinary dismissals, or perhaps the cold pragmatism of a ruler under necessity.
The female officials speculated about the Empress Dowager’s intentions, Suxin included. But no matter how much they guessed, no one could pinpoint the answer.
Still, regardless of the larger intent, the Empress Dowager’s silence seemed to indicate the matter was concluded.
Within the palace, restrictions regarding this name gradually loosened.
Yet for reasons unknown, as Chen Qianhu’s fame steadily rose, mention of his name within the palace multiplied, while the Empress Dowager avoided it like the plague.
The palace forbade discussion of this man—not by explicit orders, but through implications that were well understood. Many palace maids and eunuchs faced misfortune because of this unwritten rule.
Up until now, Suxin had assumed that everything had finally settled into quiet resolution.