Chapter 68: Entering the Palace to Receive Honors

Five-Stone Powder, though invigorating and energizing when taken over a short period, breeds dependency with prolonged use, eventually driving people to madness and dementia. It had become fashionable among nobles and officials of the previous dynasty, a trend that, in no small measure, hastened its downfall.

It was precisely because of this cautionary tale that, in the Great Sheng Dynasty, Five-Stone Powder was strictly banned. Discovery of its presence meant the harshest punishment.

Yet now, contraband had been found within the deep recesses of the palace. How could Emperor Mingde endure such disgrace? In a fit of fury, he ordered all eunuchs and maids of Emerald Palace beaten to death, and decreed that the palace forever be sealed as forbidden ground. Furthermore, every residence of the imperial consorts was subjected to a thorough search. For a time, the palace was gripped by fear; anxiety gnawed at everyone.

When Shen Qianmo learned of this, she could only sigh deeply. That Lou Xinyue, blinded by her own desires, had dragged so many innocent lives to their graves with her, truly deserved her fate.

Her obsession with Meng Yuanheng, a devotion as steadfast as heaven and earth, had even led her to use Five-Stone Powder to manipulate the old emperor, paving the way for Meng Yuanheng’s claim to the throne. No wonder she once boasted she could help him seize the empire.

Yet, did this pale, frail, aloof man before her truly harbor ambitions for the throne?

While chaos reigned in the palace, Shen Qianmo sat in Meng Yuanheng’s chamber at the Prince Xuan’s residence, gazing at the man who should have been radiant and spirited, yet now lay silently on the bed, eyes closed, lips tightly pressed, weak and sickly. She thought of his heartbreaking lineage, the burdens he bore, the fortitude he showed after catastrophe, and the bewilderment upon learning his true identity. His every misfortune tugged at her heart.

“Why hasn’t His Highness awakened yet?” She stroked the quiet little creature curled in her lap and asked Si Tu Gong, who stood nearby.

The little one’s short leg was wrapped in a white bandage, the wound left from last night’s blood extraction.

The day after their return from the peach grove, Changdong rushed to the Duke’s mansion to report: Meng Yuanheng had suddenly fallen into a coma. Master Si Tu had sent him urgently to fetch the blue-eyed spirit fox.

Unable to rest easy, Shen Qianmo brought the fox, following Changdong to Prince Xuan’s residence, only to find Meng Yuanheng pale and lifeless upon the bed.

A night had passed; the fox’s blood had already been administered, yet he showed no signs of waking.

Si Tu Gong bowed his head. “Please rest assured, Princess. After consuming the spirit fox’s blood, His Highness is out of immediate danger. He will awaken soon.”

Even so, Si Tu Gong was anxious. The onset of illness had been swift and without warning; without the blue-eyed spirit fox, he would have been at a loss.

Alas, his heart would surely fail someday, tormented by the prince’s reckless whims.

“Has His Highness been neglecting treatment lately?” With Si Tu Gong’s skill and years of research, especially at this crucial stage, such a sudden relapse should not have occurred—unless the patient himself had failed to cooperate.

Si Tu Gong hesitated, silent for a long while, finally acquiescing. There was nothing he could do. The prince had forbidden him from letting the princess know, but since she had deduced it herself, he couldn’t be accused of disobedience.

Her guess confirmed, Shen Qianmo seethed with anger. His habit of treating his own health with such disregard was infuriating.

As Shen Qianmo fumed and Si Tu Gong grew uneasy, a low, hoarse voice came from the bed.

“If Master Si Tu has nothing else, go and prepare the antidote immediately.”

He was awake at last!

Joy flickered in Shen Qianmo’s eyes, but seeing his frail appearance, she glared at him fiercely. She stopped Si Tu Gong, who was about to leave, and spoke calmly, “Master Si Tu, stay and attend your master. I should be the one to leave. Now that Prince Xuan is awake, I shall take my leave.”

With those words, she rose, cradling the exhausted little fox, and turned to depart.

“Mo’er!” Seeing that Shen Qianmo was truly angry this time, Meng Yuanheng grew anxious. Summoning strength from who knows where, he sat up abruptly and seized her hand, triggering a bout of coughing.

He admitted that upon learning the truth of his birth, he had struggled to accept it, feeling he shouldn’t exist in this world. He had fallen into despair, destroyed all of Si Tu Gong’s painstakingly prepared antidotes, and drowned himself in drink, further weakening his body.

But since reaffirming his feelings in the peach grove, he had vowed never to let Mo’er go, deciding to cooperate fully with treatment.

Yet, Mo’er was clearly angry.

Seeing his pleading eyes and haggard face, Shen Qianmo sighed inwardly. She had intended to give him a cold shoulder, but couldn’t bring herself to follow through.

Ah, her heart was too soft.

But she must seize this moment to rid him of his disregard for his own health. She could not guarantee she would always be there; if she were gone one day, how would he survive?

She must restore his health, teach him to cherish himself, to live well.

She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Though she considered herself not one to be plagued by doubt, Lou Xinyue’s curse lingered like a drop of ink—staining her heart, impossible to erase.

Resolute, she pried his hand away and spoke coldly, “Rest well, Your Highness. Come, little one, let’s go.”

With that, she walked out without looking back. After a few steps, as if anticipating Meng Yuanheng’s next move, she said lightly, “If you wish to see me again, stay obediently in bed.”

Though delivered with a gentle tone, the words were forceful enough to halt Meng Yuanheng’s attempt to rise from bed.

Afraid to disobey Shen Qianmo, he sat down again, aggrieved, and called softly, “Mo’er, don’t go.”

But Shen Qianmo didn’t look back or pause. The little fox, however, seemed suddenly revived, leaping onto her shoulder, baring its teeth and waving its paw at Meng Yuanheng in obvious glee.

Hmph, you took my blood—now it’s time to pay! See, retribution has come. My mistress cares for me and is ignoring you now, ha ha…

Seeing himself mocked by a fox, Meng Yuanheng’s face darkened with anger. If not for the fact that he still needed its blood to cure his cold poison and win Mo’er’s forgiveness, he would have strangled it already.

But Mo’er was truly angry. How could he win back her forgiveness? The cold-faced prince, famed for his decisiveness, now found himself lost in melancholy.

Si Tu Gong thought he must have been corrupted by the little fox. Seeing his master so helpless before the princess, he felt a surge of satisfaction. Indeed, only the princess could make the prince so obedient.

He inwardly snorted: Now you’ll finally let me treat your cold poison properly!

Alas, perhaps he’d been oppressed too long; his mind was clearly unwell.

Determined, Shen Qianmo avoided Prince Xuan’s residence for several days, pretending to ignore Meng Yuanheng entirely. Yet, unable to stop worrying, she cooked his favorite dishes each day, sending them to Prince Xuan’s residence through the new shadow guard assigned to protect her.

Although Meng Yuanheng had lost his sense of taste, she didn’t want him to eat carelessly, especially while recuperating.

Last time, she hadn’t had time to properly observe Prince Xuan’s residence, leaving her with only two impressions: vast and empty, and devoid of women.

Indeed, the spacious residence was sparsely populated, and not a single woman could be found—every servant was male, even the cook, a burly giant.

Because Meng Yuanheng had lost his sense of taste long ago, he cared little for food; eating was merely a routine. Naturally, the meals were unimpressive. Shen Qianmo, seeing the kitchen’s utensils and ingredients, could easily imagine the cook’s skills left much to be desired.

The new shadow guard’s name was He Qing, as expressionless as Changdong, methodical and emotionless, far less endearing than Xue Hao. Several times, Shen Qianmo wanted to ask about Meng Yuanheng’s recovery, but upon seeing He Qing’s lifeless face, swallowed her words.

Alas, perhaps she should simply wait until the next time the fox’s blood was needed to visit Prince Xuan’s residence.

Si Tu Gong had said that because Meng Yuanheng had suffered from the cold poison for so long, complete recovery would take time. According to his treatment plan, each cycle lasted ten days, and at least twelve cycles were needed for full recovery. Each cycle required a dose of the fox’s blood.

As Shen Qianmo counted the days, hoping for ten to pass quickly, another imperial decree arrived from the palace.

The messenger was the same young eunuch as before, still delivering Emperor Mingde’s command in his shrill voice: “Shen Qianmo, eldest daughter of Duke Shen, is summoned to the palace for reward.”

Shen Qianmo truly wished to avoid entering the palace, but had no choice—imperial commands could not be defied. Here, the emperor’s word was law. Besides, being summoned for reward, refusing would be nothing short of courting disaster.

The same sedan, the same route, but this time, her destination was not the Hall of Fortune and Peace, but the Hall of Diligence.