Chapter 28

With the entire harem now firmly under Meng Wenyao's control, it didn't take long for her to uncover the truth—Consort Gui was indeed hiding Meng Wenxian in the Jiaofang Palace.

More than that, Consort Gui had commissioned a replica of the ceremonial gown that the Crown Princess had worn during the Crown Ceremony. Her intentions were clear as day: on the day of the Crown Ceremony, she planned to have Meng Wenxian wear the identical gown, impersonate Meng Wenyao, and then stage some sort of scandal to frame her.

And if she could tie the scandal to Prince An, all the better. That way, the three of them—Meng Wenyao, Prince An, and Meng Wenxian—would all be dragged into the mud together, courtesy of Consort Gui's scheming.

Meng Wenyao didn't know what trick Consort Gui was planning exactly, but if she managed to make her move during the ceremony and eliminate Prince An in one stroke… honestly, Wenyao was almost looking forward to the chaos.

Meanwhile, the Empress Dowager was in high spirits. On multiple occasions, she dragged Meng Wenyao around to meet the noble young ladies of the capital. It was clear she was preparing to choose a consort for Prince An.

As Meng Wenyao looked at the array of beautifully dressed noblewomen, she felt a twinge of amusement. These girls were all desperate to become Prince An's bride now—but once she announced her pregnancy, they'd surely hate her for being the one who got there first.

Noticing the frown on Meng Wenyao's face, the Empress Dowager grew annoyed. "You may be young, but you're still Prince An's elder. Handling these matters is your duty. When the Emperor is gone one day, it's Prince An you'll depend on to live well."

Swallowing her disgust, Meng Wenyao forced a sweet smile. "Your Majesty is absolutely right. I was only being cautious because the matter of Prince An's marriage is so important. I wanted to give it the proper thought."

Pleased by the answer, the Empress Dowager softened. "You're right. We're only choosing a consort now, but in time she'll become the mother of the realm. We can't rush it—her character, family background, and talents all matter greatly."

Meng Wenyao seized the opportunity and added with a gentle smile, "It's not just the girl that matters—her family's ability to support Prince An politically is also crucial. We don't know much about court affairs… perhaps His Majesty could weigh in? He might know which ministers would make suitable fathers-in-law."

The Empress Dowager beamed—Meng Wenyao had struck the perfect note—and she immediately ordered someone to summon the Emperor.

By the time the Emperor arrived at the Changle Palace that evening, having just finished his official duties, the three of them sat down for dinner together.

Before they had even eaten a few bites, the Empress Dowager eagerly asked, "Your Majesty, who among your ministers do you think is capable of great things in the future?"

The Emperor, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, paused with confusion. Why was the Empress Dowager suddenly concerned with matters of state?

"The six Ministers of the Court are all capable in their own right. Which one are you referring to, Mother?"

"I'm asking," she replied earnestly, "because I'm trying to choose a consort for An'er. The girl must be outstanding in herself, but her family must also be worthy—someone who can help guide and support An'er in the future. So which of the ministers has a daughter of marrying age?"

Meng Wenyao glanced at the Emperor and caught the slight change in his expression.

In the past, when the Empress Dowager had busied herself sending women to the Emperor's bed, he'd merely found it annoying. But now that she was focused on grooming a bride for Prince An, he felt something much sharper—like he was being abandoned.

Still, he didn't let it show. After all, his inability to father children wasn't Prince An's fault, and he wasn't petty enough to blame him.

As both Emperor and uncle, he had to maintain at least a semblance of dignity. After a moment's thought, he said calmly, "I'll have the Ministry of Rites draw up a list. Mother can look through it and choose carefully."

The Empress Dowager was delighted by this and immediately picked up a piece of meat to place in the Emperor's bowl. "You've worked hard enough, my son. An'er's grown now—let him take some burdens off your shoulders. There's no need to do everything yourself."

In an ordinary family, such words might be touching. But in the imperial court, power must be held tight. Once you let go, your throne will slip through your fingers.

Meng Wenyao wasn't sure if the Empress Dowager truly didn't understand this… or if she was just too happy to care.

The Emperor, on the other hand, had completely lost his appetite. He chewed slowly, every bite like wax on his tongue.

Seizing the moment to further stir the pot, Meng Wenyao smiled and said, "Your Majesty is truly blessed. Soon, you'll have four generations under one roof."

The Empress Dowager lit up, suddenly reminded of her greatest wish. "You're right. Good character and family are important, but the most important thing is that she must be fertile. I want to hold my great-grandchild in my arms!"

The Emperor's face turned visibly pale.

Meng Wenyao looked at him and thought, So, how does it feel? Watching your own mother give up on you and prepare everything for your replacement? If you can still treat Prince An like your own son after this, I'll be impressed.

While the Empress Dowager gushed about the glorious future, the Emperor sat like a shadow at the table, echoing her with empty words, while Meng Wenyao smiled sweetly and kept fanning the flames.

Later that night, when they returned to Hanxiang Hall, the Emperor didn't even try to touch her—something that almost made Meng Wenyao jump for joy.

Clearly, he was deeply affected. Right now, he could only watch helplessly as his mother placed all her hopes on Prince An. The throne, the power, even the women—everything that was once his was slowly slipping away.

"Your Majesty," Meng Wenyao said softly, "when you pass, may I accompany you in death?"

The Emperor turned to her abruptly, voice hoarse with shock. "Why, Yaoyao?"

Burial sacrifices hadn't been practiced for generations—it was considered a barbaric custom of previous dynasties. Most people would rather live than die for another. Her words hit him like a slap.

Meng Wenyao looked at him with teary eyes, her expression full of devotion. "Today the Empress Dowager said that once Your Majesty passes, I'll have to rely on Prince An to survive. I can't even imagine such a life. I only wish to remain by your side… forever."

Then she buried her head in his chest, sobbing quietly.

The Emperor had been upset at the Empress Dowager's words earlier, but hearing this broke him completely.

He realized with a cold clarity: once he was gone, he wouldn't even be able to protect the woman he loved. She would be handed over to another man, one who would inherit everything from him.

He clutched Meng Wenyao tightly—so tightly it felt like he might snap her in half.

Meanwhile, inside, Meng Wenyao was laughing.

Hurts, doesn't it? Now you finally understand. Everything you own is only borrowed. Sooner or later, it'll all belong to Prince An.

The more the Emperor grieved now, the more joy he'd feel once he had a son of his own. And when that day came, if he could still remember this pain—remember that Prince An was the cause of it—then and only then would he be ready to act.

The next morning, Prince An was already waiting in the imperial study, ready to report the latest developments in the Wei Quan case.

He handed over the memorial, flanked by the Minister of Justice and the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. Normally a case like this wouldn't warrant such high-level involvement—but the deceased was Consort Gui's nephew, and since Prince An had taken the lead, the officials knew better than to miss the performance.

The Emperor skimmed the memorial, eyes narrowing at the long list of implicated officials.

His blood boiled.

He was the one who had ordered Wei Quan's execution—yet somehow, Prince An had uncovered a whole network of involved parties. The sheer number of people on the list spoke volumes about how deep Prince An's private investigations had gone.

You're not just solving a case, the Emperor thought darkly. You're rooting out everyone I used to consolidate my power.

For the first time, the Emperor began to question whether Prince An was thinking straight—or if he had ambitions that went far beyond justice.