Ye Jiao's illness, the result of poisoning, had long been deliberately made public by Li Ce. Yet for a mere Wuhou Prefect to attract the attention of all four royal households for a simple visit of concern was bound to provoke gossip. Li Ce, however, remained composed. While gathering the scattered chess pieces, he spoke with practiced ease:
"The Princess of Wei and the Wuhou Prefect were once close confidantes. Princess Zhao is warm-hearted—naturally, she too would come to visit the sick."
Li Zhang had likely already discerned the ties between Ye Jiao and Yan Congzheng, as well as Yan Shuangxu. Concealment at this point would only breed suspicion.
Setting down his teacup, Li Zhang's refined face bore a trace of understanding. Turning to Li Ce, he said mildly,"Since Princess Zhao is also present, why not trouble Imperial Physician Lin to examine her as well?"
The directness of the remark sent a jolt through Li Ce. He suddenly suspected that Li Zhang had seen through every move he had made today. Lifting his gaze, he studied Li Zhang's face with a flicker of unease.
With a sigh, Li Zhang added regretfully,"Ninth Brother, are you unaware? The Zhao couple has been childless for many years, which greatly concerns Mother. I heard the Wuhou Prefect mistakenly consumed a tonic meant for the Fifth Prince. It would be prudent to determine whether the formula itself poses an issue."
The tonic was harmless. Though Li Ce hadn't listened in detail to Lin's explanation, the phrase "depletion of kidney yang" had been enough for him to deduce the true cause: the aphrodisiac ingredients had led to excessive intimacy, weakening the constitution.
If the couple had been using tonics in hopes of conceiving, those same ingredients would likely have been aimed at invigorating the body. Even if someone had sought to poison Li Jing, the method was so subtle it left no obvious fault—an open trap one could hardly challenge.
Li Ce gave a faint nod."The prescription has already been reviewed by Imperial Physician Lin—there's nothing amiss."
With nothing wrong, neither Zhao Wang nor he would hold Imperial Physician Zhang accountable. No one would investigate further, no one would doubt—it was simply an unfortunate misstep.
Li Zhang's brows knit slightly, as if puzzled, before he shook his head with a wry smile."Very well. At worst, we'll adopt a child from the clan. This situation can't continue indefinitely."
His tone bore the easy concern of an elder brother looking out for his sibling.
Li Zhang rose, and Li Ce escorted him out. Near the shadow wall, Li Zhang glanced among the guests, as though searching for someone. Li Ce halted beside him, and after a moment, Li Zhang continued walking forward.
"While Father is in high spirits during the festive season, you'd best take the chance and request a marriage decree."
He gave the advice casually.
"Thank you for your concern, Brother."
"No need for such courtesy," Li Zhang replied with a smile, his footsteps steady as he left.
After seeing him off, Li Ce encountered Bai Xianyu, captain of the Wuhou Guard, near the side gate. Bai Xianyu was on his way out, holding a few pieces of peach crisp, placing them into a wax-paper pouch as he walked.
Upon spotting Li Ce, he grinned and said,"Your Highness, I'll take my leave without staying for the meal—just packing some snacks to take home."
Few would bring back food from a sick visit, but Li Ce merely smiled."If you like them, take more."
"This is plenty!" Bai Xianyu beamed."My mother keeps a vegetarian fast and eats nothing past noon. These will tide me over—they'll do for supper."
"Why not stay for the meal?" Li Ce invited.
"No need," Bai Xianyu raised an eyebrow,"With the Wuhou Prefect still unwell, we must stay vigilant and do our duty well."
With that, he took the reins from the porter, mounted his horse, and galloped toward the city gates.
Li Ce stood watching his retreating figure, momentarily lost in thought. Bai Xianyu seemed somehow different today—more diligent than usual.
Such vitality is what every son of Great Tang should possess.
The courtyard around Ye Jiao remained lively.
Princess Wei and Princess Zhao had already praised each other's makeup, attire, shoes, servants, and even their maiden families—but neither seemed inclined to take their leave.
Cui Jin'er was clearly waiting for Li Jing. Yan Shuangxu, on the other hand, appeared to have something to say to Ye Jiao.
Bored, Ye Jiao rested her chin on her palm, vaguely worried whether Li Jing inside had an urgent need for the latrine.
"Your Highnesses," she suggested,"Shall we move to the front hall? Do stay for dinner tonight."
Upon hearing this, Yan Shuangxu stood and excused herself, citing guests at home and the need to dine in her own residence.
Cui Jin'er remained in place, curtsying to bid her farewell. Ye Jiao accompanied Yan Shuangxu to the ornamental gate.
There, finally afforded privacy, Yan Shuangxu clasped Ye Jiao's hand, her voice gentle and soft.
"Jiao Jiao... I often think of our younger days—when we admired peach blossoms, gazed at the moon, and trusted one another like sisters. After I married into the royal household, I was overwhelmed by household affairs and grew distant from you."
"No," Ye Jiao squeezed her hand in reassurance,"As long as we continue to visit each other, there's no distance that can't be bridged."
"You're right," Yan Shuangxu exhaled softly,"The State Duke's manor is thriving more than ever. I'm truly happy for you."
They reached the ornate gate. Yan Shuangxu halted and embraced Ye Jiao.
Ye Jiao stood somewhat stiffly, bewildered by the sudden warmth. Instinctively, she patted Yan Shuangxu's back.
"Sister Yan," she finally used the affectionate address from years past,"Take care of yourself."
"You too." Yan Shuangxu released her, smiling as she waved goodbye.
Her carriage passed another on its way in—a white lantern hanging at the front. It had halted at a distance.
Shuwen alighted from the vehicle. She wore a pale moon-white gown, draped in a thick white coat embroidered with budding branches of the Chinese mahogany. Even amid the crowd, one could tell she was in mourning.
Though bundled up, from afar she seemed visibly thinner.
Instead of entering, Shuwen approached the gate and personally handed over a wooden box.
"Please inform your Second Young Lady," she said clearly,"That someone from the Princess Royal's household came by to deliver a few ginseng roots for her recovery."
Hearing it was from the Princess Royal's estate, the porter hurriedly offered her tea.
"No need," said Shuwen,"It's inconvenient."
Though the Emperor had absolved her from three years of mourning, Shuwen dared not bring ill fortune to Ye Jiao. Her heart had been conveyed; now she could leave.
As she turned away, a horse neighed—a black steed halted in front of her.
The rider wore a blue military uniform, tiger embroidery upon his chest. His black cloak, thick as it was, appeared light as down.
He had a striking, elegant countenance—despite years in the army, he exuded the scholarly air of an academy student.
It was Yan Congzheng.
Shuwen's heart pounded fiercely. She stepped aside to give him room, hiding her face beneath her mourning veil. He did not recognize her—she could afford to walk slowly, to eavesdrop on whatever he might say.
He handed the porter a paper-wrapped bundle."These are dandelions gathered this autumn from Lishan Daoist Temple. If they suit the prescription, use them."
Dandelion—cooling, detoxifying, soothing swellings—common, inexpensive. But if he had personally journeyed to Lishan to fetch them, the value lay not in money but in sentiment. It was a token of thoughtfulness and care.
"Please, Deputy Commander, rest inside for a moment," the porter offered.
"No need," Yan Congzheng replied,"There's still work at the yamen."
He turned his horse to leave.
Shuwen, stepping aside, suddenly stopped. She lifted her mourning veil and called softly,"Master Yan."
She deliberately did not address him by title.
He looked down at her, his expression unreadable."Miss Shu, you're here as well."
"Yes," she answered, summoning her courage, her voice gentle and composed."Would you escort me home?"
The carriage was parked far away—he likely hadn't noticed it.
Indeed, Yan Congzheng—