Chapter 249: Farewell to the Young Son

"How is it?" Li Zhang lowered his brows, his gaze sharp. When searching for Li Ce earlier, Li Zhang had already learned that Li Chen had been captured, Yan Lian and the Imperial Academy's Sacrificial Official Lu Yi were killed, Li Beichen was rescued by someone, and had fallen into Qujiang Pool. The question was about life or death.

"He's dead," the guard reported, "just pulled up."

Surprise flickered across Li Zhang's face. "And the ones who broke him out of prison?"

"Not found."

Li Zhang nodded slightly, then looked at Ye Jiao again. "The Princess is here too? Drinking through the night?" Amidst the chaotic turmoil, he was strangely concerned about this trivial matter.

Li Ce muttered incoherently in drunken stupor, barely comprehensible. Ye Jiao glanced at Li Jing with some irritation. "Princess Zhao knocked late at night, saying His Highness Prince Zhao hasn't returned for two days. Coincidentally, Prince Chu didn't come back last night either, so I accompanied her to search. We ran into the Dali Temple's arrest squad; the carriage was driven into the Imperial Moat. Princess Zhao refused to leave the carriage, so I came on foot hoping to fetch the prince."

So that was the reason. That's why she was anxious after hearing from Du Xiaoran that Princess Zhao was taken away. That's why her hair was simply tied back without adornment. That was why, when she dragged Li Jing out by force earlier, her face was blazing with fury. It seemed the Cui family of Boling was more fierce than the Ye family of Duke An'guo's residence — they simply returned to their maternal home, yet you still let your drunken husband linger beside you.

Li Zhang's lips twitched downward, his eyes stern. Only then did he proceed to arrange the matters at hand.

"Have Lady Du escort Prince Zhao back to his residence, then report to the palace that Princess Zhao has returned to her natal home." His voice carried unquestionable authority.

Du Xiaoran cast a cautious glance at Li Zhang, then bent the knee in respect. Li Zhang's gaze lingered on Ye Jiao's face even while issuing commands to others. Fortunately, they were far apart — otherwise, one might think he was staring at Li Ce.

His tone to Ye Jiao was different from how he spoke to others:

"Though Prince Chu is drunk, he cannot defy orders. Please, Princess, take him to Qujiang Pool to inspect the situation."

Ye Jiao nodded in acquiescence.

Li Zhang turned to the Crown Prince's guards. Two immediately stepped forward, flanking Li Ce on either side and lifting him up.

"The Dali Temple's guards will clear the streets quietly. Do not alarm the citizens." Li Zhang's voice was stern. The clearing was to remove dead or injured prisoners and to wash the streets clean with water.

Today was the Dragon Boat Festival; citizens were exchanging sachets, watching dragon boat races, visiting temple fairs; ministers enjoyed a day's rest, and the palace would host a banquet at night. If His Majesty was in good spirits, gifts of fine silk robes might even be exchanged between sovereign and subjects. But today's mood was grim — they only hoped the situation would not worsen.

The guards knelt and responded, ready to move out. Li Zhang suddenly seemed to recall something and spoke gently:

"Take Li Chen to Qujiang Pool. A father and son's bond must be honored — let him bid farewell to his child."

At these words, sadness flickered across his face; his thin lips pressed tightly. The Furong Garden was sealed off; only the Forbidden Army, the Marquis of Wu's men, and the Dali Temple's personnel were permitted inside.

Li Zhang strode in with the Crown Prince's guards, Ye Jiao following at a distance. Li Ce was lifted from the carriage, his arms still supported as he staggered inward. His drunkenness had slightly abated; he stumbled and grabbed Ye Jiao's arm, calling,

"Jiao Jiao, why are you here?"

Ye Jiao pushed him away sharply, nearly toppling him. Leaning against the Crown Prince's guards, Li Ce smiled foolishly at Ye Jiao.

"My woman is truly strong."

"Shut up!" Ye Jiao snapped.

Li Ce promptly sealed his lips but, doubting the closure, his slender fingers fluttered beside them in a sewing motion. Li Zhang turned his head away, quickening his pace.

A small crowd gathered ahead; through gaps, a child lay on the ground. Guards parted for Li Zhang as he approached, but he only glanced briefly at the child before turning away.

Li Chen was then brought in. His face was smeared with blood, his hairpin askew; once resplendent robes now hung filthy and ragged. His gaunt frame made the garments drape loosely like patched rags.

Li Zhang fixed his gaze on Li Chen's face, eyes sharp with scrutiny. Everyone parted to form a path, at the end of which lay the drowned child.

Li Chen remained motionless. For a long moment, he seemed nailed to the ground, expression vacant, only his eyes wide open, growing larger, as if to burst from their sockets.

"Go see." Li Zhang commanded.

At once, Li Chen stepped forward as though a mere corpse needing orders to act. But after a single step, his legs buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, crawling the rest of the way.

Reaching the body, he confirmed it was his child. Mouth agape, he gazed into the dark waters, then fixed his stare on the child's face. He seemed about to scream but only opened and closed his mouth repeatedly before finally whispering two words:

"Chen'er..."

Chen'er, his son — once destined to shine among stars, now humiliated in the death cell, drowned in Qujiang Pool. A scar marred his eye, deep enough that the eyeball nearly fell out.

"Confirm it's Beichen," Li Zhang stepped closer. "The third prince has returned, waiting to oversee the burial."

The emperor had long ordered Prince Qi, Li Lian, back from the imperial tomb to prepare the burial for father and son. Li Zhang's words were meant to soothe — no exposure of their bodies to the wild.

This felt like a second command. Li Chen lifted his head to Li Zhang, then suddenly looked down, tearing open the child's clothes to inspect his waist. Li Beichen's skin was flawless; at seven years old, only a single black mole marked his waist. No mistake — this was his child.

It seemed Yan Congzheng's rescue had failed, his child was dead, and all was utterly finished.

Li Chen roared, a wild, hoarse cry like that of a beast. He collapsed, clutching the child with his left arm, right hand gripping the child's tightly, his expression despairing. Tears poured down like rain.

The child was gone; royal dignity, rites, and decorum meant nothing. He was but a father, holding his dead son, hatred ensnaring his heart like an ever-tightening net. He hated the emperor, the crown prince, and himself.

"It's all my fault! Father's fault!" His hands massaged the child's palms, wishing for life to return, hoping the child would still squeeze his leg and ask,

"Father is massaging Grandfather's leg like this, son will massage father's too."

But those hands were cold and soft, unresponsive.

Suddenly, Li Chen's expression hardened. He snapped his head up, meeting Li Zhang's eyes, and saw Li Ce and Ye Jiao behind him. Li Ce was supported, head lowered, face unseen. Ye Jiao looked at him with sorrow and a warning — a warning.

Li Chen's fingers stiffened. Realization dawned. Without hesitation, he set down the child, eyes wild, searching left and right until finding a stone from the pool's edge.

Clutching the stone, he charged at Li Zhang.

"It's all your fault! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

Li Zhang stepped back to evade. The Crown Prince's guards advanced, gleaming blades flashing, stabbing into Li Chen's body before being swiftly withdrawn. Blood splattered.

Li Chen spun and fell to the ground. He did not clutch his wounds but discerned direction, crawling toward the child. No strength remained to lift him — only to grasp his hands, stiffening beside him.

"He's dead." A guard checked Li Chen's breath and reported.

"Summon Prince Qi to prepare the burial." Li Zhang's expression was cold and solemn as he replied.

Before long, Prince Qi, Li Lian, arrived. Returning to the capital for official duties had matured him considerably. Even a burial done well might gain the emperor's favor.

He brought a slender coffin, personally instructing guards at the poolside to carry Li Chen's body, intending to separate him from the child. Yet Li Chen's hands were rigid, impossible to pry apart.

Li Lian looked upon his once noble, dependable brother and the pale drowned nephew, sighing deeply.

"Forget it." He shook his head. "No need to separate them. One coffin will suffice."

The guards acknowledged and lifted both bodies into the coffin.

"Won't you clean and change their clothes?" Ye Jiao asked.

Li Lian stood afar, not hearing. Li Zhang answered for him:

"One coffin is already the emperor's grace."

He glanced at Li Ce, frowning.

"Still not awake? Prince Zhao has always been reckless, often drunk and lodging in brothels — not unheard of. Why has Prince Chu become like this now?"

A pang of anxiety struck Ye Jiao. Li Ce's health was frail; he rarely drank. Every act and word today had been rehearsed by Li Ce himself — except why he was drinking with his fifth brother. How to explain? Ye Jiao's mind raced. Inventing a reason risked contradictions; better to counter question with question.

"Was the Dali Temple's prison bombed?" she asked. "His Highness oversees the capital's defense; has he reported this to the emperor?"

Li Zhang's complexion paled slightly. Looking down at Ye Jiao, a faint smile curved his lips as he replied patiently,

"No need for the princess's concern."

Ye Jiao feigned indifference and prepared to leave with Li Ce. Li Zhang issued orders behind her:

"No city gates to open today. The Dali Temple shall scour the city for fugitives according to the roster; the Jingzhao Pref

ecture will assist, but civilians must not be alarmed."

Ye Jiao frowned, feeling the air thicken. This day would remain etched in memory as the most sorrowful of all Dragon Boat Festivals.