“They’ve again sneaked into the Imperial Pharmacy to poison things?”

 

“Yes,” Jiang Kui nodded. “Those two took advantage of the chaos to infiltrate. They’ve put some sort of powder into the medicine you take.” She lowered her voice, expression grave: “This time I finally caught them in the act and tailed them all the way back…”

 

“To Concubine Xian’s Chenghui Palace.”

 

Concubine Pei was birth mother to Prince Qi Xie Yun.

 

“So it was her…” Xie Wuyan murmured, lowering his gaze. “I see how it is now.”

 

Ensconced amidst streaming crimson clouds he stared down at the radiance spilling between his fingers, silent for a long interval.

 

“From my understanding,” he finally began slowly. “This poison has shown up twice in the past. The first occasion was the autumn banquet in year five of the Jingde reign…it appeared in my wine cup then…”

 

“I understand now,” Jiang Kui uttered very softly.

 

So drinking that tainted cup was why his sudden bout of illness erupted during the feast, leaving him comatose for over ten days afterwards.

 

He gently shut both eyes, forcibly pressing fingers to his brow. “While I was unconscious the Qi Prince faction abruptly made their move. Many court officials I knew well were demoted or exiled…”

 

“So many deaths,” he whispered. “Because I happened to fall ill that one time.”

 

As crown prince his wings sheltered far too many. One misstep throwing countless officials into dungeons, executions, demotions, or exile. His every action implicated many lives — a single cough speculated widely. Sickness from him could upturn court politics on their heads.

 

During year five of Jingde, such grave illness struck him. Afterwards Eastern Palace declined sharply, his teachers demoted along with his royal uncle. He lost many bosom friends and subordinates who respected him. Among them no few talented youths or dedicated officials failed to withstand harsh sentencing, losing lives in their prime bursting with potential and prospects.

 

He soldiered on bearing their hopes, completing things left unfinished step by step.

 

The second son Xie Kang yet a youth shy of adulthood. A patient fated to live no more than twenty springs.

 

But his lone shoulders also bore many lives and deaths.

 

As he said before: “Far too heavy a burden.”

 

Shutting both eyes allowed him to hear their voices.

 

Echoing through endless twisting, sleepless nights.

 

“Xie Kang,” someone uttered his name ever so gently.

 

Abruptly his wrist was taken into another’s tender grasp. Opening his eyes he met the girl’s serene gaze. Limpid brilliant eyes reflected glimmering sunset clouds in wavering shards akin to blazing flames — now deep now light.

 

“Don’t be upset…” She told him earnestly:

 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

 

None of it was your fault. Those officials demoted, sentenced, implicated unfairly — none your fault at all!

 

You simply…happened to fall sick that one time!

 

“But they all died because of me,” he murmured dolefully. “I often think back to that year. After the imperial spring outing, they frolicked drinking wine and composing poetry in apricot groves…their names still carved onto steles below the Daci’en Temple…”

 

She fiercely tightened fingers around his wrist. Meeting his eyes she firmly shook her head. “Don’t dwell on it anymore…please?”

 

“Very well,” he acquiesced with another nod.

 

“You blame yourself far too easily,” she sighed aloud. “Taking all that responsibility onto your lone shoulders. Doesn’t it exhaust you?”

 

“I can manage,” he gave a wan smile. “After all I’m the crown prince.”

 

She poured hot tea passing the cup over. Head bowed he slowly drank, listening to intermittent crackles from the brazier coals.

 

After some hesitation she still asked: “You said this poison surfaced twice already. The first instance was your wine cup. What about before that?”

 

He set his tea down with a light sigh: “It was targeted at my Imperial Mother.”

 

Jiang Kui started slightly…recalling his prior words linking the poison to his mother’s untimely passing.

 

“Concubine Xian did this to pave way for the Qi Prince’s accession?” She queried softly.

 

“Mm,” his barely audible assent. “Rumors say…back in Prince’s manor when I was little, she happened to be expecting a child same time as my late mother. Afterwards when His Majesty took the throne…she must have assumed Xie Shenbi would be his first prince after ascension…”

 

“Xie Shenbi knows about this too,” he stated quietly. “She understands the roots of her own mother’s resentment.”

 

Far too many hopes led to equally bitter disappointments. Ultimately curdling into hatred and indignance.

 

“Xie Wuyan…” Jiang Kui began hesitantly. “I’ve heard your…birth mother passed early on?”

 

“Yes. I don’t refer to her as Empress Mother for she never lived to assume that role,” his tone gradually grew unsteady. “I’ll never comprehend her innermost thoughts that last day when…”

 

“When she—”

 

His voice suddenly faltered into silence.

 

The girl across from him closed the gap swiftly pulling him into an embrace.

 

Her long tresses cascaded past his cheek as fragrant traces from her nearness enveloped him wholly.

 

Utter tranquility filled the bedchambers for an ephemeral spell. Wispy scents of tea and sandalwood drifted unvoiced between them.

 

“Speak no more,” she murmured gently by his ear. “Painful things need not be told.”

 

“You’re right…thank you,” he answered just as softly.

 

Releasing him she withdrew to sit back down, face still lowered: “I hugged you just now for comfort. Last time you soothed me so consider us even today.”

 

“I understand. You meant it as consolation for me,” his gaze also dropped.

 

Not at all, she scoffed inwardly to herself in rebuke.

 

Both fell silent. Heads bowed they each slowly sipped mouthfuls of tea.

 

Crystalline clinks echoed crisply within the soundless bedchambers.

 

“About this poison…” Jiang Kui carefully considered her next words: “I happen to know a skilled physician from Jianghu. Surname Shen. Talented at concocting antidotes and medicine. Perhaps you haven’t heard of him before?”

 

“Never,” he smoothly lied without blinking an eye.

 

A mental scoff from her before she went on: “The gist being, I had him analyze components of this poison. It’s slow acting but he’s already derived a working antidote now.”

 

“If this Master Shen has successfully produced said antidote,” he momentarily stopped himself, tone solemn: “Might my wife please fetch a dose on my behalf?”

 

“He finished making the antidote?” She exclaimed, astonished.

 

“Hypothetically speaking,” his grave response.

 

So that means the antidote already exists for certain! Another internal huff.

 

“Listen closely to my idea,” he elaborated. “I’ve conceived the perfect way to completely undermine Prince Qi’s faction for good.”

 

A weighty pause preceded his solemn declaration: “I want to drink it once more.”

 

From his determined expression she instantly grasped his rationale: “You plan on downing poison right before His Majesty’s eyes?”

 

“Moreover it must occur openly with all present as witness,” he nodded affirmation. “Sufficient evidence against Qi Prince attempting my assassination has been obtained. Memorial impeaching his entire faction sits completed and ready, only lacking the proper catalyst to set events in motion…”

 

He pondered for a spell: “If the poison acts up when father along with civil and military officials bear witness, followed by you stepping forth to directly expose my elder brother’s murderous intentions — then Prince Qi and followers shall be thoroughly routed beyond all hope of recovery!”

 

She slowly shook her head after careful rumination: “That’s still poison you speak of. Far too dangerous hence I cannot consent.”

 

By way of explanation he clarified: “It’s but a slow acting toxin, nonfatal in the short term. Furthermore, doesn’t this Master Shen have the antidote well in hand?

 

“Must you constantly disregard your own well-being!” She said, incensed.

 

His mild laughter. “This damaged husk of mine, what is there left to cherish?”

 

“Oh,” he mumbled, realizing his blunder.

 

“…My apologies.”

 

Scratching at his head awkwardly: “I’ll mind my words in the future.”

 

“See that the lesson sticks,” she grumbled, facing the other way.

 

Cradling his chin in thought he turned ponderings towards another related issue: “Does my lady still recall Noble Consort’s prior words on someone secretly poisoning His Majesty’s meals and drinks throughout all these years?”

 

Her puzzled frown: “You suspect Concubine Xian’s involvement?”

 

After brief contemplation she conceded: “I suppose nothing precludes the possibility…”

 

Concubine Xian’s sole objective was installing the Qi Prince onto the crown prince’s seat. If Crown Prince met an untimely end, Prince Qi would immediately become heir apparent. That toxin was slow acting — slipping miniscule doses over long periods into the Emperor’s sustainence, gradually accumulating deadly potency until the secretly groomed successor stood best poised to swiftly claim the throne after his passing…

 

“Simply the appearance of misconduct achieves the desired effect,” Xie Wuyan murmured under his breath. “Father is highly suspicious by nature…over time he has lost most trust in my royal brother. Else things would never reach the point of bolstering my position instead.”

 

“Truly an arduous road ahead,” Jiang Kui commiserated softly. “Harboring such wariness and caution towards his own sons, forced to utilize and exploit them like chess pieces…”

 

“Such is the mantle of sovereign,” he calmly watched tendrils of fragrant steam rise. “Father reigns as the Son of Heaven, not an ordinary man.”

 

Those assuming that seat…inevitably forfeit mundane emotional bonds.

 

“What tactics will frame Concubine Xian for poisoning His Majesty’s meals then?” Jiang Kui proceeded inquiring.

 

“I’m going to pay Imperial Mother a visit,” came Xie Wuyan’s response. “To request her assistance on this matter.”

 

“…Imperial Mother?”

 

“Yes,” his faint smile emerged. “I was raised under Imperial Consort De’s doting care. Can’t say you’re too familiar with her I take it?”

 

“Met her briefly a few times in passing,” Jiang Kui slowly recalled. “She hardly seems the talkative sort though.”

 

“As devout Buddhist she maintains vegetarian habits and gentle temperament,” Xie Wuyan gave a mild laugh. “All these years dwelling deep in palace seclusion she never participated in state politics. Father places great trust in her.”

 

“When do we go see her then?”

 

“Let’s wait a bit longer,” traces of weariness crept into his tone as he yawned lightly. “I want uneventful peace finishing out this year.”

 

Clutching the heated brazier he tilted his head, slowly nodding off. Jiang Kui regarded him for a spell before reaching out and tugging him over to the thick rolled up blankets against the wall.

 

Without complaint he calmly settled onto the makeshift bed promptly dead asleep.

 

“Xie Kang,” she murmured while gently sweeping aside the stray locks near his cheek. “I’ll accompany you in celebrating New Years.”

 

“When you’re tired out you can lean on me,” she carried on softly.

 

“We walk on together.”

 

“Still a very, very long ways left to go.”

 

“So you must…”

 

Take good care of your health.

 

She bent over touching her forehead to his.

 

His lashes faintly fluttered against her face, tickling sensation.

 

She smiled wordlessly to herself before straightening and exiting the chambers. Clutching that poisoned medicine container she hurried towards Changhe Lane in search of Imperial Physician Shen.

 

Winter days darkened swiftly as stars emerged one by one in the celestial realm. Treading through the accumulated rooftop snow she raced lithe as a swallow past vermillion palace structures. Resembling a long-tailed swift cutting through the dusky horizon.

 

Within the smoky lane tinkling shouts and rhythmic clangs of hammer on anvil resounded as wisps of cooking fires rose from various households.

 

Repeated low raps echoed from the small alleyway dead end.

 

“Young Hero Jiang,” Ah Rong stood at the opened doorway. She seemed troubled, face downcast with evident anxiety.

 

“Is Little Chen’s illness acting up again from the cold?” Jiang Kui asked while following her inside.

 

“The frigid weather aggravates things,” Ah Rong gave a long sigh. “That child has a constitutional weakness towards chills. Come wintertime he sleeps excessively and coughs worsen.”

 

Hearing this Jiang Kui suddenly froze up, a thought occurring to her.

 

The two women crossed the snow blanketed central courtyard into the rear medicine preparation rooms. Imperial Physician Shen stood focused on stirring contents of a bubbling medicinal pot. Dressed in greyish-green official robes he wielded a bamboo fan diligently feeding the fiery stovetop.

 

After simple salutations Ah Rong took her leave, shutting the door after her departure. Shen set down the fanning fan. Sitting himself before a short table he lifted gaze expectantly towards Jiang Kui: “And of His Highness’ condition?”

 

“He stays lucid more often during daylight hours but nightly spells still unfavorable,” Jiang Kui placed the ceramic medicine crock onto the tabletop. “Far too busy daily…health seesawing between improvements yet deterioration all at once.”

 

Shen sternly declared: “Were up to me I’d simply knock him out and toss his unconscious body into the herbal pools! With his state enforced rest remains imperative. Why don’t you restrain him more?”

 

“I don’t restrict him,” Jiang Kui gave head shakes in refusal.

 

“Just as I predicted,” Shen let out an icy snort. “Never listens to my advice for once.”

 

“This got mixed into his medicine,” Jiang Kui steered the subject, nudging that container closer in his direction. “From vague hints in his words seems the antidote is already finished?”

 

“And what’s he scheming again?” Shen asked guardedly.

 

“He plans on downing poison,” Jiang Kui sighed aloud.

 

Shen practically leapt up from his seat in sheer reaction.

 

After taking several deep breaths to settle jangled nerves he rumbled lowly: “So that rascal means to put on an act of deep suffering?”

 

“Correct,” Jiang Kui affirmed with another dip of her chin. “After consideration, his approach remains rather ideal…He comprehends his father well. And people’s fickle hearts too.”

 

“It’s strategically sound yet terribly taxing upon the body,” Shen stated frostily. “He’s an invalid. Even with antidotes prepared, consuming toxins still constitutes poisoning! How can his body endure sustained damage?”

 

“I will watch over him,” Jiang Kui murmured softly in promise. “He won’t come to harm.”

 

Shen flicked a glance over her without further comment. Rising up he rummaged through a medicine cabinet before retrieving a small bottle of pills passed into Jiang Kui’s palm along with strict instructions for timely administration.

 

“Understood,” she nodded back.

 

“There’s another matter…” Hesitance colored her tone upon voicing sudden query: “Regarding Little Chen’s sickness…might it be related?”

 

That inexplicable dread towards cold. Incessant coughing. Extensive hibernation throughout winter’s depths…All too resemblant of associated symptoms from that man.

 

Shen’s motions hitched abruptly as he slowly took a seat by the medicine table once more, expression unreadable: “So you noticed the truth?”

 

“Indeed.” He proceeded explicating Jiang Kui’s doubts himself: “That child and His Highness…bear identical sword wounds.”

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