In an inconspicuous small farmhouse, Ji Yan sat by the window, writing a letter. He rolled it up, inserted it into a pigeon tube, and tied it to the pigeon’s leg. With a strong arm motion, the white pigeon flew away with the message.
Sun Yinlan knocked on the half-open door and stood at the entrance, saying, “I heard that Your Highness did not eat anything last night?”
Ji Yan’s gaze fell on Sun Yinlan’s belly; she was nearly five months pregnant. Looking at her bulging stomach made Ji Yan feel uncomfortable.
Before being exiled to the frontier, although he did not have a main wife, he had two concubines. Ji Yan was a charming and flirtatious man, and besides the concubines, there were also several women in his residence. When he left the capital, one of the concubines was already pregnant, her belly about the size of Sun Yinlan’s now. If that concubine had survived, the child would have been born by now. But she had died. All the women in his residence had poisoned themselves to death in one night to follow him in death.
Of course, this so-called following him in death was just a nice excuse made up by those who wanted them dead.
Ji Yan waved at Sun Yinlan, motioning for her to come closer. He placed one hand on her lower back and the other on her belly.
“Is he being troublesome?” Ji Yan asked.
Sun Yinlan shook her head and said, “No, he’s been very good.”
Sun Yinlan considered herself quite lucky. She had seen others suffer from morning sickness, which was terrifying, but she had no such reaction. Other than an increased appetite, she had no discomfort.
Sun Yinlan’s gaze moved from her belly to Ji Yan, still feeling somewhat unreal. It seemed that the past six months had been like a nightmare, but the child in her belly constantly reminded her that everything that happened was real. She collected her thoughts and asked, “Shall I bring the food over for you?”
Ji Yan sighed and said, “Today is Little Fifth’s birthday.”
Sun Yinlan thought for a moment and realized Ji Yan was referring to the late Fifth Prince. Sun Yinlan knew that the Fifth Prince died in the palace on the day Emperor Chang died and Emperor Shou ascended the throne, accused of treason and killed by a barrage of arrows.
Sun Yinlan had seen the Fifth Prince before. He and Ji Yan were born of the same mother. He was younger and always cheerful. Because he was weak as a child, he was somewhat pampered in the palace, growing up to be kind-hearted and innocent, unlike his other brothers who fought for the throne.
His death was certainly not due to treason. But in the game of thrones, Ji Yan lost. As Ji Yan’s full brother, it was inevitable…
Sun Yinlan gently consoled, “Your Highness, please don’t dwell on it. The Fifth Prince, if he has a spirit in the afterlife, would surely want you to be well.”
“After all, we were brothers, and Little Fifth never had ambitions for power. Why did Ji Lan have to do this?” Ji Yan said, frowning, thinking of his elder brother—the former Crown Prince Ji Chong. He, too, had once killed his brothers; four years ago, Ji Chong died by his hands. At that time, he was proud and believed he was right, but looking back now, he realized he was merely a pawn.
Whenever Ji Lan was mentioned, Sun Yinlan always kept silent. She had almost married Ji Lan and needed to avoid suspicion.
Her silence made Ji Yan misunderstand. He looked at her and smiled mockingly, “Yinlan, whether you believe it or not, someone indeed poisoned me. That’s why I acted that way towards you at the Lantern Festival.”
Sun Yinlan said, “I naturally believe in Your Highness’s character.”
Ji Yan’s eyes filled with more sarcasm, “At that time, it was found out that it was the Fourth Prince’s doing, and I believed it. But where is the Fourth Prince now? And who is sitting on the dragon throne?”
Sun Yinlan looked at Ji Yan incredulously, her eyes full of shock.
“Your former fiancé, whom you thought of fondly, did not care about your reputation, your future, or even your life. He just used you as a pawn.”
Ji Yan’s words pricked at Sun Yinlan’s heart like needles. The image of Ji Lan’s gentle, smiling face flashed before her eyes. She staggered back, nearly losing her balance.
Ji Yan supported her. He stood up, helped Sun Yinlan to sit down, and said expressionlessly, “Take care of your pregnancy.”
Seeing Sun Yinlan’s pale face, Ji Yan couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry. He couldn’t stand to see women suffer, especially his own. He placed a hand on Sun Yinlan’s shoulder and patted it gently, “Stop thinking about him. I’ll bring you his head to avenge you someday.”
At this moment, Ji Lan was in the rear garden, watching from a distance as Sun Yinzhu played hide-and-seek with a few palace maids. Disgust flickered in Ji Lan’s eyes but was quickly hidden. He always concealed his emotions, and even the slightest changes in his expression were rare.
He had reminded himself that his young Empress was only fifteen, still a child. Considering her family’s support, he should tolerate her. But he couldn’t help comparing her to Gu Jianli, who was the same age. He recalled Gu Jianli’s calm and composed demeanor in strategizing, a brilliance Ji Lan had never seen before.
How could the childish Sun Yinzhu compare to Gu Jianli? No, she couldn’t even match her sister, Sun Yinlan. The thought of Sun Yinzhu wetting her pants in fear on their wedding day made Ji Lan lose his appetite.
Ji Lan stopped watching Sun Yinzhu and quickly walked toward the main hall, where several ministers awaited him to discuss the smallpox epidemic. Public opinion was dangerous, and he had to face more than just the disease. The entire city of Yong’an was now completely locked down, no one could enter or leave, and rumors couldn’t spread. But Ji Lan knew that only by quickly ending the smallpox outbreak could he silence the critics. Otherwise, relying on strict measures wouldn’t last long. Fortunately, the Imperial Hospital had developed a vaccine, but it was only preventive and useless for those already infected.
Sun Yinzhu, running and laughing among the flowers, secretly glanced at Ji Lan’s departing figure and sighed in relief. The childishness on her face faded slightly, “I don’t want to play anymore. Let’s go back.”
She had just taken a few steps when she saw Chen He, dressed in green, walking past the red wall with a snow-white kitten lazily licking its whiskers on his shoulder.
Sun Yinzhu immediately put on a childlike, innocent smile.
Two days later, the number of deaths from smallpox in the capital continued to rise. As one of the earliest infected places, the Guangping Marquis’s residence saw an increasing number of cases. In half a month, nearly ten people, including both masters and servants, had died.
Ji Xinglou’s pustules had started to scab. The scabbing phase was the itchiest and most unbearable. The gloves on his hands couldn’t stop him from scratching and rubbing.
However, his body was indeed slowly recovering. Smallpox was a vicious disease, and getting infected often meant leaving one’s fate to the heavens.
Most people died within three to five days after the rash appeared. The longer they survived, the more gruesome the death, but also the greater the chance of survival. If they could survive for half a month after the rash appeared, it was almost as if Heaven had granted them a new life.
Ji Xinglou and Gu Jianli had been counting the days since the rash appeared. Now they were at the critical point of around half a month.
Ji Xinglou was scratching his back vigorously on the wooden bed when he heard Wujing push the door open. He immediately stopped moving.
Wujing brought him food. Ji Xinglou, without even removing his gloves, used his gloved hands to hold the spoon and ate heartily.
After he finished eating, Wujing looked at his hands and said, “Don’t scratch. Remember that?”
Ji Xinglou nodded obediently. His hands, encased in cloth gloves, fidgeted playfully with each other. He looked up at Wujing and asked, “Did she scratch?”
Wujing’s actions paused as he tidied up, then he glanced coldly at Ji Xinglou and said, “Mind your own business,” before turning and leaving.
In the past, Ji Xinglou would have been unhappy with his father’s cold attitude. But now it was different. His father had carried him back from the mountains! Just thinking about it made him happy! Even his sister had only ever sat on their father’s lap for a very short time!
As soon as Ji Xinglou thought of Ji Xinglan, she called out in a childish voice from the back window, “Brother! Brother!”
Ji Xinglou quickly jumped off the bed, agilely climbed onto a chair by the window, and sat on the windowsill, opening a small crack in the window.
Now, the scabs on his face were ugly, and he didn’t want his sister to see them.
“Brother! Brother! I brought flowers for you!” Ji Xinglan placed a bunch of small flowers on the windowsill. Knowing she couldn’t get too close to her brother, she ran back and climbed onto a big rock.
Ji Xinglou glanced through the crack in the window and found the wildflowers unattractive, but he still reached out with his gloved hands, awkwardly picking up the flowers and bringing them inside. He looked around, pulled the delicate arranged flowers out of the vase, and threw them on the floor, then carefully placed the wildflowers his sister had picked into the vase.
Outside, Ji Xinglan held a book and began to recite her lessons to her brother again, shaking her head as she read.
Wujing returned to Gu Jianli’s room and heard something fall to the ground as he approached the door. He quickly stepped inside and saw a palm-sized bronze mirror on the floor, likely dropped by Gu Jianli from the bed. Wujing glanced at the untouched lunch on the bedside table and then looked away.
The heavy bed curtains were drawn, concealing both the bed and Gu Jianli within. At her insistence, Wujing no longer slept in the same bed with Gu Jianli at night.
As the weather grew warmer, Wujing opened the rear window, allowing the breeze to blow in. The fresh, cool air brought with it the sweet, soft sounds of Ji Xinglan reciting her lessons.
Wujing walked to the bed, pulled back the curtain, and hooked it to the side.
“Don’t look!” Gu Jianli curled up, hugging her knees against the wall. When Wujing pulled back the curtain, she immediately covered her face with her hands.
Wujing spoke in a tone of disdain, “How can you be less obedient than Xinglou?”
Gu Jianli remained silent, covering her face and bowing her head as much as possible.
“You most likely won’t die, you won’t have to see any terrifying little ghosts. Shouldn’t you be happy?” Wujing asked.
Gu Jianli shook her head, complaining softly, “But I’ll be pockmarked… When I recover, I want to leave here, live alone in a mountain where I won’t meet anyone…”
“So, you’re unhappy because you’ll no longer be as beautiful as your uncle?” Wujing sat lazily on the bed, twirling a strand of her soft hair around his finger with interest.
He was in a good mood.
Gu Jianli said slowly, “Ji Zhao, you’re gloating.”
Wujing’s tone was casual but carried a hint of seriousness, “What would it take for it not to be gloating? Should I ruin my face too, so we can both be ugly together?”
