The Imperial Consort had no energy to spare on wondering whether anything had happened between the two in bed. She stormed over and began shaking the sleeping Emperor.
"Your Majesty! You must give me justice—please, Your Majesty!"
Both the Emperor and Meng Wenyao were abruptly woken by the outburst. Seeing the Consort standing by the bed in tears, Meng Wenyao was so startled that she instinctively clung to the Emperor.
Was this a palace drama unfolding in real life? Had she just been caught "in the act"? But then she remembered—she was legally allowed to share the Emperor's bed. Since she was already holding on to him, it would seem more suspicious to suddenly let go.
Ignoring the Consort's dagger-like glare, Meng Wenyao whimpered in a soft voice, "Your Majesty… Yao'er is frightened."
The Emperor didn't yet know what was going on, but the situation was already more than enough to anger him.
"Consort, what are you doing?"
Only after barging into the Emperor's chambers did the Consort's brain begin to catch up with her body. She dropped to her knees and wept bitterly.
"Your Majesty, someone—some cursed villain—kidnapped my nephew last night! They've strung him up at the city gate like a criminal! Please, I beg you to send someone to check! Whoever did this must be torn limb from limb!"
Wait, seriously? Wei Quan was actually strung up at the city gate? Meng Wenyao looked up at the Emperor but couldn't see his face clearly—her arms were wrapped too tightly around him. All she could make out was his jawline.
"I know. You may return," the Emperor said coldly.
The Consort wasn't satisfied with such a flat response. Still weeping, she pleaded, "Your Majesty, please allow me to return to my family estate and see my nephew. He's the only legitimate heir of the Wei family…"
"This is unbecoming. What kind of example does a national Consort set by wailing like a market woman? Attendants—escort the Consort out."
Hua Momo and Xiao Dezi quickly moved forward to drag her out.
But the Consort had come here with a goal. She wasn't going to leave without a fight—and she was genuinely worried about her nephew. As they pulled at her, she clung to one of the bedposts.
CRACK.
The bedpost broke off.
Still snuggled in the Emperor's arms, Meng Wenyao sat sideways on the bed, watching the Consort holding the broken piece of wood. She couldn't help but smirk.
"Your Majesty, why not just let her go? Poor Consort Sister is crying so much… even I'm starting to feel sorry for her."
The Emperor was still fuming. But being naked under the covers limited his ability to properly show it. All he could do was glare at the Consort.
She ignored his look and pleaded again, "I've served Your Majesty faithfully for ten years. Even if I haven't earned much merit, I've certainly endured my share of hardship. Please allow me to bring an imperial physician and return home to see my nephew."
Was it the Emperor's men who acted last night? Or only this morning?
If it was the latter and the Wei family found out early enough… Wei Quan might have been saved.
No. She wouldn't feel at ease until she saw her enemy dead with her own eyes.
Meng Wenyao chimed in again, voice sweet as sugar: "Your Majesty, Wei Quan is also my brother-in-law. I'd like to visit my sister too…"
The Emperor shot her a sharp look and then pinched a certain spot under the blanket, startling her into a barely stifled gasp.
"…Granted."
—
An hour later, a procession arrived at the Wei estate. The entire mansion was draped in white mourning banners, with the sounds of wailing echoing through the halls. The racket was so loud it shattered any lingering trace of Meng Wenyao's sleepiness.
The Consort stood in disbelief before sprinting toward the mourning hall, stumbling along the way. She demanded the coffin be opened.
She refused to believe it. Just yesterday, her nephew was full of life, strutting around the Jiao Fang Palace like he owned it. How could he be gone in a single night?
She would find the person responsible—and she would see them executed, their entire clan wiped out.
But the hatred on her face suddenly twisted into shock when she saw what had been carved into Wei Quan's forehead.
"You—what does it say? What's written on his face?!"
Everyone else was too terrified to answer. Finally, a woman in mourning garb—Meng Wenxian—stepped forward and bowed.
"Your Highness… the words say: 'I am a villain.'"
"You little—go to hell!"
The Consort lost her mind. She snatched a hairpin and lunged at Meng Wenxian, who ducked and fled, screaming, "Sister, help me!"
Meng Wenyao had been enjoying the drama, sipping the tea of someone else's downfall, when her sister's cry dragged her into it.
Ugh, she thought. Why should I get involved? Let them bite each other. I'm just here to watch the show.
She leaned deeper into the Emperor's embrace, her eyes still full of mirth.
"Your Majesty… I'm scared."
The Emperor wrapped her tightly in his cloak, shielding her completely from the chaos.
The Consort eventually came back to her senses. Years in the palace had taught her to regroup fast. Meng Wenxian can't die now, she thought. At least not yet—not before she's of use.
Just like that, the Consort fainted. The attendants scrambled to carry her back to her carriage.
The Emperor gently lifted Meng Wenyao and returned to the palace.
—
In the swaying carriage, Meng Wenyao slowly came to a realization—the Emperor had actually ordered Wei Quan's execution. But was it just to avenge her… or had he already turned cold on the Consort?
"Your Majesty," she said softly, pale-faced and watery-eyed. "Seeing how distraught the Consort was… I think I regret it. Maybe we shouldn't have killed him. A few public beatings would've been enough…"
Her voice trembled as she nestled closer, her small frame shivering slightly.
The Emperor's arms tightened protectively around her. He gently soothed her:
"Don't be afraid, my dear. I gave the order. It had nothing to do with you. Wei Quan committed unforgivable sins. What we did was justice. Even the Buddha wouldn't blame us."
"But… if the Buddha does blame someone," Meng Wenyao said earnestly, "let it be me. It was my anger that caused it. You're a good man—a virtuous ruler. It wasn't your fault."
With that, she put her hands together and whispered a prayer, as if genuinely pleading with the heavens.
The Emperor's heart melted completely. He nuzzled against her ear, whispering over and over, "Yao'er… my sweet Yao'er…"
His arms never loosened. His murmurs never stopped. Eventually, Meng Wenyao drifted off to sleep in his arms.
—
When they returned to the palace and the Emperor carried her down from the carriage, Meng Wenyao groggily realized she had missed the perfect opportunity to exchange sweet nothings with him.
Damn. All that bonding potential… wasted!
Scrambling to recover, she recalled the affectionate things he'd whispered to her before she'd fallen asleep. Maybe she could still salvage it.
"Your Majesty," she said with as much sincerity as she could muster. "Meeting you is the greatest blessing of all three lifetimes."
Okay… a bit dry, but it was something. Better than not responding to his passionate declarations at all.
Sure enough, the Emperor's expression softened, his gaze turning tender.
"You… you're still too kind. If I weren't here to protect you… what would become of you?"
Meng Wenyao nodded obediently and sniffled, eyes wide and moist with pretend emotion. "Then Your Majesty must never leave Yao'er. Without you… I wouldn't survive."
"Don't say such things," he chided, his voice suddenly stern.
They arrived at the bedchamber. A new bed had already been set up. Both of them prepared to catch up on the sleep they had missed.
—
Wei Quan's death dropped into the capital like a stone into a still lake—sending shockwaves in every direction.
Some cheered, believing a wicked man had finally met his deserved end.
Others grew anxious. With the Consort furious and in mourning, she was unlikely to let this go quietly. No one knew how many heads would roll because of this.
In the An Prince's estate, a group of advisors gathered in secret.
"In this old man's opinion," one of them said, stroking his beard, "the Consort is grieving, and the Emperor must be enraged. Now is the perfect time for Your Highness to request an audience—offer to investigate this matter personally. It would earn the Consort's gratitude and give you an edge at court."