Reborn Lady - Chapter 215

The beautiful spring season in the palace of King Yan was quickly shrouded in a layer of white as news of the Emperor’s death spread.

The passing of the Emperor was such a momentous event that there was no need for Princess Xu to convey the message to everyone. Xu Qingwan, Ji Xianxian, Yin Hui, and the other sisters-in-law issued strict orders to the maids in each courtyard, instructing them to mourn sincerely without laughter or gossip. Concerned that Fu Shan might struggle with this solemnity, Yin Hui went to Songhe Hall. Coincidentally, Concubine Guo also sent a nanny over. With a reliable nanny to assist Fu Shan, Yin Hui stayed with her for a while.

“Mother, what’s the matter?” Xiao Heng, still a child, was confused amidst the busy atmosphere.

Yin Hui embraced Xiao Heng in her arms and spoke in a sorrowful tone, “Great-grandfather passed away; he was your grandfather’s father.” 

The distance and unfamiliarity made the great-grandfather in Xiao Heng’s mind more of a title, far from the great-grandfather in Pingcheng. He simply blinked his eyes in response.

Yin Hui touched her son’s head, saying, “Grandfather and father are very sad, so you should be obedient and don’t make trouble for grandfather, understand?” 

The news in the imperial edict seemed to have struck King Yan like a heavy blow. He gazed at the post envoy with a mixture of emotions—grief, shock, and perhaps a tinge of relief at being exempted from the obligation to go to the capital.

The post envoy waited respectfully for King Yan’s response, unsure of how he would react. The silence lingered as King Yan remained motionless, absorbing the weight of the imperial decree. The decree had spared him from the heart-wrenching journey to the capital, but the news of Emperor Jianlong’s death was undoubtedly a significant loss.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, King Yan finally spoke, his voice heavy with emotion, “Thank the Emperor for his mercy. I’ll return and express my gratitude to Emperor Jianlong. May his spirit rest in peace.”

The post envoy bowed deeply, understanding the complex emotions that must be running through King Yan’s heart. He then turned to leave, leaving King Yan and his sons in the borderland, with the weight of both the imperial decree and the Emperor’s passing hanging over them.

Fourth Master Wei Xuan’s eyes blazed with anger! The demise of his royal grandfather had plunged his father into deep sorrow. Without any prior arrangements, he hastily took them to Beijing for the funeral. Throughout the journey, he neither ate nor uttered a word. Despite the profound grief, the grandfather forbade the father from attending the funeral! Why? His father was not lacking in filial piety!

Rushing to the post envoy, Wei Xuan seized the will and meticulously read it from start to finish. Unable to distinguish truth from falsehood, he turned and knelt before his father.

King Yan received the edict with trembling hands. It was indeed written by Emperor Jianlong himself, as he feared the vessel kings might doubt it. The edict detailed the Emperor’s wishes before his demise.

With blurred vision, the edict before King Yan gradually transformed into the familiar figure of his father in a dragon robe. Denied the opportunity to fulfill filial duties in life and now barred from seeing the final edict in death, he cried out, “Father Emperor! Father Emperor!”

King Yan pounded the ground and wailed, suddenly spewing a mouthful of blood before losing consciousness.

“F-Father!” Wei Xuan, closest to his father, rushed to embrace him in time.

The post envoy, shocked, knelt on the ground.

Wei Yan also hurried over to help his father. Wei Luo cast a quick glance at the nearby post station and instructed as he mounted his horse, “Father has fainted and should not be moved. Attend to him; I will seek a doctor!”

His horse galloped towards the post station.

Fortunately, a doctor was available at the post station, and in the urgency of the moment, Wei Luo instructed the doctor to grab the medicine box and tossed him onto a horse before swiftly returning.

King Yan woke up by a guard’s pinch, just in time to witness his third son carrying the doctor off the horse, approaching him with a worried expression.

Unable to exert his energy or speak, King Yan leaned weakly in his son’s arms, observing as the doctor anxiously felt his pulse.

The doctor heaved a long sigh of relief and respectfully said, “My lord’s qi and blood surged in great compassion, and it’s fortunate he spat out the blood. Please take good care of your body.”

King Yan closed his eyes, appearing indifferent, yet tears continued to roll down the corners of his eyes.

The typically majestic and robust father now appeared frail. Wei Xuan knelt by his side, wiping away his tears. Wei Luo’s face darkened, and Wei Yan’s eye circles turned red.

The imperial court’s post envoy, crawling on the ground, dared not make a sound.

Intermittently, the March spring breeze blew, gradually drying the tears King Yan shed, leaving behind dry streaks mingled with wind and dust, creating an awkward sight.

Wei Luo dampened a handkerchief with water and handed it to Wei Yan.

Though Wei Yan had been composed before, he, too, shed tears as he wiped his father’s face. “Father, please take care. If something were to happen to you, what would we do?”

The wet and cool veil helped erase the embarrassment on King Yan’s face. He slowly opened his eyes to find the concerned faces of his three sons before him, set against a clear and cloudless spring day.

King Yan gazed blankly at the distant sky. In truth, he had anticipated this day for a long time. His father was old, and the inevitable moment would arrive sooner or later. However, he never expected his father to prohibit him from going to Beijing for the funeral.

What was the underlying fear? Was it the concern that he might seize power from his nephew upon reaching the capital, or the fear that an enemy country could exploit the situation?

In essence, it was all for the greater good. If he ascended the throne, he would be Emperor until his last breath. Familial bonds mattered little. How much significance was there in seeing his father off?

After a deep breath, King Yan sat upright, rising from the embrace of his fourth son. Taking the last Emperor’s edict, he rolled it up with reverence and placed it in the direction leading to the capital. He then respectfully kowtowed before the edict, saying, “I will abide by my father’s edict. I, unfilial, cannot journey to Beijing to bid you a final farewell. If there is an afterlife, I wish to remain your son and continue to be filial in your presence.” 

After three kowtows following nine obeisances, King Yan stored away the edict. Without a glance at the man who delivered the edict, he led his son and guards on horses, retracing their path.

The departure was swift, indifferent to day and night, but the return journey was considerably slower. King Yan, however, remained silent. Each night spent in the post station, he secluded himself in his room.