Chapter Thirteen: The Unattainable Forever Stirring Restlessly

“You—you all!” Wei Ranzhu was so furious that she suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood and fainted on the spot.

“Your Highness, please summon the imperial physician immediately!”

Consort Wei had obviously fainted from anger.

The other consorts gasped in shock.

“Your Highness, Consort Wei truly deserved this. Even the Seventh Prince has grown to despise her. At last, she won’t be able to act out anymore!”

Chunyu reported every detail of the situation outside to Jiang Daiyin.

Jiang Daiyin felt that something was amiss, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Finally, she instructed Xia Mo, “Go to the Palace of Mental Cultivation and inform His Majesty. Ask if Consort Wei can be excused from her daily penitential wall-facing.”

With these daily visits, even those who bore her no ill will would surely come to resent her.

The emperor’s tactic seemed designed to earn her enmity.

Xia Mo acknowledged and left for the Palace of Mental Cultivation.

“You’re too kind, Your Highness,” Chunyu said, shaking her head in disappointment.

“By the way, we must prepare a gift for the Empress Dowager’s birthday. Chunyu, take me to the treasury and let me see what treasures are stored there.”

The Empress’s treasury should hold many precious items. Jiang Daiyin rubbed her hands together, eager for a visual feast.

“Your Highness, the Empress Dowager values not these treasures, but rather the growth and talents of the princes and princesses. This year, each royal child must perform a skill or art,” Chunyu explained as she opened the treasury door.

“Especially since this is the first year the Tenth Prince has been under your care, the Empress Dowager will focus her attention on him!”

“Knowing how much the Empress Dowager values her offspring, and yet you collude with me?” Jiang Daiyin was stunned. If the Empress Dowager discovered she had mistreated the Tenth Prince, would she ever have peace again?

“Collude?” The choice of words was... complicated.

Chunyu tilted her head, her eyes full of trust. “I believe Your Highness has your reasons!”

Such blind trust left Jiang Daiyin momentarily speechless.

“It’s all right, there’s still time,” Jiang Daiyin silently encouraged herself.

“Your Highness, look,” Chunyu pushed open the door, revealing a beautifully preserved red coral.

The room seemed bathed in light, making it hard to keep one’s eyes open.

“What is that dazzling thing?” Jiang Daiyin squinted, trying to make out the object.

“Your Highness, it’s a luminous pearl!” Chunyu said joyfully and reached to take it, but Jiang Daiyin’s expression changed sharply.

“Stop! Don’t touch it!”

“That object contains radioactive elements; it’s carcinogenic!”

Jiang Daiyin recalled modern knowledge about luminous pearls and tensed.

“What are radioactive elements? And what is cancer?” Chunyu looked puzzled.

---

This luminous pearl was an invaluable treasure—why did Your Highness look as if she’d seen a ghost?

“In any case, it’s not something good. Have someone bury it somewhere remote,” Jiang Daiyin ordered sternly, then quickly left.

This thing causes cancer and mutations; it must be kept far away.

“Understood,” Chunyu answered, stunned, but always obeyed her mistress’s orders without fail.

“Xiao Dezi, take this luminous pearl and bury it somewhere secluded. The deeper, the better.”

“This is a luminous pearl!” Xiao Dezi was shocked upon receiving it.

“Miss Chunyu, are you sure Your Highness ordered to bury this?” he asked, horrified at wasting such a treasure.

Xiao Dezi’s eyes gleamed with greed.

“It was Your Highness’s explicit command. Hurry!” Chunyu said without looking back and walked away.

Xiao Dezi and the other eunuch exchanged glances and smiled slyly.

“We’ll split it fifty-fifty. Let’s tell Miss Chunyu that we buried it, alright?” Xiao Dezi suggested.

“No problem!”

---

Feng Yu held a memorial petition in his hands, his brows furrowed.

“Your Majesty, there is someone from Fengyi Palace.”

“Let her in.”

Perhaps it was Fu Linhai’s imagination, but the emperor’s tone sounded unusually cheerful.

Moreover, the previously furrowed brow now seemed somewhat relaxed.

“Your Majesty, I pay my respects,” Xia Mo bowed deeply. “May you live long and well.”

“Hmm,” Feng Yu responded lightly.

Xia Mo felt her palms sweat. She lowered her gaze, unwilling to peek at the emperor’s expression, and carefully reported, “Your Majesty, Consort Wei fainted from anger outside Fengyi Palace’s gate. The Empress asks if Consort Wei can be excused from her daily wall-facing penitence here.”

A long silence followed. Xia Mo dared not raise her head; her legs felt weak, and sweat beads formed on her brow.

Just as she was about to collapse, Feng Yu finally spoke.

“In that case, reduce the daily wall-facing to once every three days.”

“As you command,” Xia Mo sighed in relief, finally free to leave.

The atmosphere inside the Palace of Mental Cultivation was suffocating.

“Does the Empress have anything else to say to me?” Feng Yu suddenly asked.

Caught off guard, Xia Mo shook her head.

“No, Your Majesty.”

Feng Yu pursed his lips. Had the Empress forgotten to bring him the Eight Treasures Tea? Or was she deliberately withholding it?

He had grown accustomed to it, and now he missed it.

But Feng Yu would never bring it up himself; after all, he was the emperor.

He said no more and waved Xia Mo away.

Later, Xia Mo reported this to Jiang Daiyin.

“Your Highness, what do you think the emperor means by this?”

What else could it mean? The previous incarnation had always flattered him, but now she had stopped; he was beginning to miss it.

Men are fickle—ignoring what’s close and craving what’s out of reach.

Jiang Daiyin checked Feng Wuchen’s homework without lifting her eyelids.

“Don’t mind it.”

“Yes.” Xia Mo still felt like she had forgotten something.

“Mother, I have never heard of these Three Hundred Tang Poems before. Were there really such great poets?” Feng Wuchen held the anthology Jiang Daiyin had commissioned, his face full of wonder.

The poems ranged from majestic to gentle, each a timeless masterpiece.

If only these poets were alive, he would bow and ask to become their disciple.

Of course!

Li Bai and Du Fu’s poems are widely passed down. Li Bai alone occupies a large portion.

As a language teacher, Jiang Daiyin’s collection was far more than just three hundred poems.

She smiled proudly. “Of course. Mother sent someone to gather them.”

“Li Bai’s poems are bold and unrestrained. I wish I could meet him,” Feng Wuchen’s eyes sparkled with hope.

Good taste!

“Li Bai, the Poet Immortal, styled Taibai, was known for his bold and free-spirited style. He’s considered a master of the heroic school of poetry,” Jiang Daiyin began to explain important exam points, then cleared her throat.

“In short, studying more will benefit you.”

“Otherwise, you’ll only know how to say ‘Wow’ when you see beautiful scenery or delicious food.”

“Wow, Your Highness, you know so much!”

As soon as Jiang Daiyin finished, Chunyu exclaimed, “Wow!”