Chapter 240 – Whom Will He Save
Inside the returning carriage, Li Ce reclined at an angle, his head resting on Ye Jiao's lap, swaying slightly with the jolts of the wheels.
"Finally caught him back," he murmured with a sigh, eyes closed.
Ye Jiao's fingers gently kneaded Li Ce's head—not quite massaging, more like molding clay. Only this piece of clay was exquisitely smooth and strikingly beautiful, its features steeped in quiet pleasure.
After a while, unable to resist, Ye Jiao asked,
"Is it really Her Majesty the Empress who doesn't want Fifth Brother to have children?"
Though she had grown used to calling the Consort Xian 'Mother Concubine,' she still found it hard to call the Empress 'Mother Empress.'
Li Ce responded with a faint "Mm," his brows relaxing before lightly furrowing again. Even with his eyes closed, a coldness flickered across his expression.
"But why?" Ye Jiao was puzzled. "When Fifth Brother married, the Crown Prince already had children—he even had the Imperial Grandson."
The eldest prince, Li Long, had wed early but, in a show of propriety, delayed his wife's pregnancy until the second prince's consort was already expecting. So although the Crown Prince was not the eldest son, his son was the rightful heir to the title of eldest imperial grandson.
Even if Li Jing had a child, it would not pose a threat to the Crown Prince.
"Because of the Cui clan of Boling," Li Ce said. "The Cui family has stood as the pinnacle of nobility since the Eastern Han, hailed as 'the foremost aristocratic house under heaven.' In the early years of our dynasty, when officials compiled the genealogy of noble families, they placed the Cui clan first—until Emperor Taizong intervened and had the Longxi Li clan take precedence.
Every dynasty since the Han has seen Cui clan chancellors. And since the Cui trace their lineage to the ancient Jiang family, they often intermarry with the Jiang nobility, binding bloodlines in shared power. Take Minister Jiang Min of the Ministry of War—his wife is a Cui. The current Grand Chancellor, Fu Qian, was once a disciple of the retired Grand Chancellor Cui.
Their roots run deep; their influence shakes the empire."
Ye Jiao's fingers instinctively pressed harder, pausing at Li Ce's temple.
"But even so, the Empress married her own niece to the Crown Prince," she said slowly.
Li Ce clasped her hands in his, replying,
"The Empress comes from the Hedong Pei clan. Since the Qin and Han, the Peis have flourished across six dynasties—a house of lords and ministers in unbroken succession.
They have produced no fewer than thirty prime ministers and forty generals. The number of high officials—chancellors, chamberlains, commanders, inspectors—is too vast to count. Among the titled nobility, you'll find dukes, marquises, earls, and viscounts. Over a hundred members have been immortalized in official histories.
So it's only natural that the Empress would have the Crown Prince marry into her own clan—both to draw on her natal family's power and to ensure its continued prestige when the prince ascends the throne."
Ye Jiao nodded.
"So the Empress forbade Fifth Brother from producing an heir to ensure the Cui clan devotes itself solely to supporting the Crown Prince. Otherwise, they might be tempted to back a rival—perhaps even push for Fifth Brother to take the throne."
Li Ce opened his eyes and pulled her hands to his chest.
"Isn't it terrifying?"
Ye Jiao wanted to pound the carriage wall or kick out in frustration, but her hands were trapped in his, and her legs served as his pillow. She could only huff sharply and growl,
"If we had known it would come to this, we never should have let Fifth Brother marry Cui Jin'er. Then we wouldn't have to guard against her having children or stoop to such disgraceful schemes!"
"It was Li Chen who proposed the match," Li Ce said coolly. "Once the Empress learned of it, she rushed to have the late Grand Tutor deliver a betrothal letter to play matchmaker on behalf of Fifth Brother.
How could she possibly allow Li Chen to wed the Cui heiress?"
Ye Jiao was silent for a long while before murmuring,
"Fifth Brother is truly pitiful. And now... what do we do?"
"I'm still thinking," Li Ce sat upright. "For now, let's keep this quiet as long as we can. But the treason case involving Prince Wei has already been adjudicated—the execution will be carried out soon. We must keep a close eye on Yan Congzheng. Don't let him act rashly."
The Prince Wei treason case implicated hundreds. On the day of the rebellion, Prince Wei's mother, Consort Shu, lost her arm and died from her wounds. His legitimate daughter succumbed to illness. His wife was ordered to die by the Empress's command.
Only Yan Congzheng was spared because he had helped protect the Emperor. Yet his father, Yan Lian, was sentenced to death by hanging, and his nephew, Li Beichen, could not escape punishment.
Li Ce wished to send Yan Congzheng north as soon as possible to assume a post—before he had to watch his kin be executed.
"His wounds haven't healed yet," Ye Jiao said after a moment's thought. "He can't endure a long journey. And even if he wanted to break into prison, he wouldn't have the strength."
"If he were to try," Li Ce's gaze sharpened, "would he save Yan Lian or Li Beichen?"
Would he fulfill his duty as a son—or protect his nephew out of familial affection?
"Li Beichen," Ye Jiao answered without hesitation. "That child's clung to the Yan household since he was little. Li Chen deliberately fostered closeness between him and Yan Congzheng.
Besides, he's only seven. Who could be so cruel..."
But no matter how cruel it seemed, the law was merciless.
When Emperor Taizong seized the throne, he executed his elder brother and eleven nephews—including infants, who were smashed to death in their swaddling clothes.
Power struggles in the imperial clan were always ruthless—eradication must be thorough. That was why Li Ce had never tried to persuade the Emperor.
Li Beichen was the Emperor's own grandson. Would he spare him?
No. Even if it tore his heart, he must act.
Li Ce sank into deep thought, silent.
Ye Jiao added,
"Enough. I'll have Lin Jing keep an eye on him."
Lin Jing was literal when it came to surveillance. He stationed men every twenty paces around the Yan estate—nothing could enter or leave unnoticed, not even a stray cat.
He himself set up at the teahouse across the gate, drinking three pots a day from dawn to dusk.
No one dared open a teahouse near the Yan estate before. But since their home was raided for treason, officials came and went, guards were always present—everyone needed a place to drink.
The first tea vendor to arrive was a young man, dazed and inattentive. He'd pour tea, stoke the brazier with a few lazy handfuls of coal, then fall asleep in his chair, leaving customers to serve themselves.
They'd drop coins under the teacup before leaving.
When the tea vendor came, others followed.
Vendors gathered, noticing the constables from Jingzhao Prefecture didn't drive them away. Gaining boldness, they lounged on the estate's stone railings, aired dirty rags on the lion statues, even pried up floor tiles for makeshift stools.
After all, the Emperor had already confiscated the property—what harm was there in scavenging leftovers?
But then came shocking news: the Yan heir had survived—and was to be posted to the north!
Panic spread. Vendors scrambled off the railings, stopped children from peeing near the estate wall, pulled rags from lion heads—only the tiles remained unreplaced. Not out of disrespect, but because officers now sat on them, drinking tea.
Lin Jing sat among them, unmoving for days.
Until one day, something was thrown toward him. He dodged swiftly. It landed on his table—a crumpled note.
Looking up, he saw a well-dressed youth before a sunflower seed stall: pink robe, jade flute and sword at the waist, chin propped in his hand, gazing lazily at him.
He gestured: open it.
It was the Sixth Prince, Li Can.
For reasons unknown, Lin Jing always felt uneasy in Li Can's presence.
He unfolded the note: The tea vendor is the Emperor's spy.
Lin Jing clenched the paper and fetched hot water. The tea vendor was dozing again.
He returned to his brick seat, watching the estate like a stone.
Only princes and court officials feared imperial spies. He decided to ignore Li Can.
But Li Can kept tossing paper balls his way—blank ones, endlessly.
Lin Jing sat stiffly as they piled around him, until finally he sprang up, glaring.
His eyes asked: What do you want?
Li Can crooked a finger.
Come here.
…