Imperial Physician Zhou felt something was amiss and hurriedly quickened his pace toward the medical storeroom.
If his conscience were clear, why would he be so flustered?
The more Imperial Physician Zhou unearthed, the more surprises emerged. Li Fuxiang was almost certain: he had caught a big fish on the hook.
The area around the medical storeroom was dimly lit, as candles were forbidden to prevent fire hazards.
In his haste, Imperial Physician Zhou hadn’t brought a lantern. As he approached, he had to slow down, carefully watching the path underfoot—not everyone possessed Li Fuxiang’s rare night vision.
Fortunately, the moonlight tonight was fairly bright, illuminating the way.
Impatiently, Imperial Physician Zhou pushed open the storeroom door. Once inside, the scene dimmed dramatically, but he paid no mind. Relying on his intuition, he groped his way toward a specific spot in the dark.
It was the area where the two gilded boxes belonging to the Emperor and the Empress Dowager were stored.
Though Imperial Physician Zhou couldn’t see clearly in front of him, his familiarity with the location was evident. Without needing to look, he fumbled his way there, stumbling along the way.
Standing on tiptoe, he reached out toward the shelf, feeling along the edges and probing inch by inch inward. With every bit of progress, his heart sank a little further—until his movements stopped altogether.
Under normal circumstances, by this point, he would have already touched the edge of the boxes.
But now, it was completely empty.
Imperial Physician Zhou’s hand froze in place.
Yet what was even more terrifying lay outside his expectations.
Sensing trouble, Imperial Physician Zhou quickly withdrew his hand and prepared to leave.
Just as he turned around, the half-open door abruptly and eerily shut with a dull thud. It was worth noting that the wind tonight wasn’t particularly strong.
Imperial Physician Zhou’s legs gave out instantly, and his voice shot up in panic: “Who’s there—?!”
This almost shrieking call completely betrayed the last shred of his composure.
From the shadows came a faint, mocking chuckle. So, it turned out to be a coward after all.
The surprise Li Fuxiang had meticulously prepared was meant solely for him to witness.
In the still night, even breathing sounds were distinctly audible.
Inside the storeroom, Imperial Physician Zhou wished he could grow eight pairs of ears, but all he could hear was his own heavy panting.
Time stretched on, minute by minute.
Imperial Physician Zhou’s vigilance and fear gradually began to subside.
Perhaps it really was just the wind?
Perhaps he was only scaring himself?
Forcing himself to stand rigidly, Imperial Physician Zhou subconsciously convinced himself that it was nothing more than his own paranoia.
This was the moment Li Fuxiang had been waiting for.
When a person’s guard begins to relax and their fear subsides, that is the perfect time for a hunter to strike.
Imperial Physician Zhou let out a light cough to steel his nerves. Then, he straightened his back, smoothed his sleeves, and carefully flattened the creases on his robes. Forcing himself to stay calm, he took a single step forward.
Suddenly, lights flickered on from all directions inside the room.
The lights were hung high, as if suspended from the beams of the ceiling.
The dim glow cascaded down from above, carrying an ethereal, grayish-white veil of light that seeped all the way into the cracks of the floor.
Thud—
Imperial Physician Zhou fell to his knees with a blank, stunned expression.
A clear cracking sound came from his kneecap—though perhaps only he could hear it clearly. A chill ran across his forehead, right at the glabella. When he touched it, his hand came away sticky. He blinked and couldn’t help but look up.
The flames of the lamps began to flicker violently.
Around the walls and ceiling of the storeroom, enormous, distorted shadows danced like a chaotic gathering of demons. Directly above, a slender figure dangled in mid-air, wearing a funeral robe embroidered with gold and red threads. Her hems and sleeves hung down continuously, stretching straight toward Imperial Physician Zhou.
Those water-snake-like sleeves, though they appeared soft, wrapped around Imperial Physician Zhou’s neck with the strength of iron clamps.
He began coughing violently.
His eyes rolled back, resembling those of a dead fish, while guttural, rasping sounds escaped his throat.
As he struggled to breathe, he heard a faint, spectral sigh beside his ear: “Below the ground, Yama has said your time is almost up. Since we are old acquaintances, this Empress Dowager has come personally to escort you.”
The deathly silk ribbons coiled tightly around Imperial Physician Zhou’s body.
The pungent stench of decay filled his nostrils.
In his weakening breaths, he managed to stammer intermittently: “Spare me… Empress Dowager, spare me…”
Imperial Physician Zhou lost consciousness without even realizing it. Li Fuxiang brushed aside the physician’s disheveled hair and checked his breathing. Fortunately, he was still alive—there hadn’t been an actual death.
Midway through the prank, Li Fuxiang realized his actions might have been excessive. He truly feared that he might have frightened Imperial Physician Zhou to death. Hastily cleaning up the scene, he grabbed the man by his waistband and dragged him back to the dormitories of the Imperial Medical Bureau. Then, Li Fuxiang returned to the medical storeroom, meticulously erasing all suspicious traces.
The lamps were replaced twice, and Gao Yuexing finally finished reviewing all the medical records.
The Emperor leaned his head against the back of his chair and asked, “Any anomalies in the use of medicine?”
Gao Yuexing replied, “None.”
The Emperor’s heart remained uneasy.
Then Gao Yuexing spoke again, her tone calm but firm: “However—the medical records have issues, Your Majesty. Look here. Why would the archived medical records of the late Empress Dowager contain such obvious missing pages?”
The Emperor froze.
“What?”
Gao Yuexing spread one of the volumes open on the table, moving it closer to the lamp. She carefully traced the stitched edges, revealing clear signs of torn pages.
And not just one section—her cursory inspection already uncovered seven or eight missing pages.
She said, “As far as I know, physicians are forbidden to casually destroy the medical records or pulse diagnoses of their patients, especially within the palace. How could such actions be allowed in the Imperial Medical Bureau? What could possibly be so incriminating in the Empress Dowager’s medical records?”
The Emperor stared silently at the medical records in front of him for a long time, then closed his eyes, unable to bear looking any longer.
Gao Yuexing knew that the expression on his face reflected an emotion called “heartache.”
She remained silent, patiently waiting for the Emperor to make up his mind.
Taking advantage of the moment, Gao Yuexing pulled over the Emperor’s pulse diagnosis record and reviewed it carefully from beginning to end.
As she read, a sense of unease grew within her. Turning to the Emperor, she asked, “Your Majesty… do you often feel unbearable chest pain at night, with the pain radiating to your back? Intense, relentless pain that sometimes makes it difficult to breathe or lie down?”
The Emperor looked at her without replying, but Xu Xiude widened his eyes and interjected, “Miss Gao is truly remarkable, to deduce such details from the pulse record alone.”
The Emperor placed a hand on his chest and said, “It used to occur occasionally, but in recent years, it seems to have become more frequent. The imperial physicians said it’s chest obstruction caused by cold stagnation. The late Emperor also suffered from this condition.”
Gao Yuexing hesitated before asking, “Was it this condition that… caused the late Emperor’s demise?”
The Emperor nodded.
Gao Yuexing’s heart sank to the depths.
The late Empress Dowager’s death…
The Emperor’s illness…
None of it seemed to matter anymore.
Chest obstruction, according to medical texts, was highly likely to afflict those closely related by blood.
The late Emperor had this condition, and now the current Emperor did as well.
What about the next generation?
What about Li Fuxiang?
He had already inherited the chronic, lingering asthma from Consort Zheng.
Could it be that the royal family of the Li clan intended to pass heart ailments onto him as well?
The Emperor, noticing the panic and sorrow in her eyes, immediately understood what she was worrying about.
When it came to Li Fuxiang, this was one of the few unspoken understandings between them.
The Emperor patted Gao Yuexing’s shoulder and said, “I was also deeply concerned, but thus far, Fuxiang has shown no symptoms resembling mine. I’ve consulted Imperial Physician Zhao, and this illness is not entirely hereditary. It’s more related to poor maintenance of one’s health. So, in the future, I want you to keep an eye on him for me. With you by his side, I feel at ease.”
Gao Yuexing thought to herself: I hope it’s true.
Looking again at the Emperor’s pulse record, she finally understood the source of Consort Hui’s confidence in her schemes.
With such a debilitating illness, the Emperor’s condition naturally provided ample room for manipulation.
Gao Yuexing said, “Your Majesty, you must never again take medicines with a pungent or cold nature. When the people from the Medicine Valley arrive in a few days, I will have them prepare some suitable remedies for you. Is that alright?”
The Emperor looked at her, nodded, and agreed.
At that moment, Li Fuxiang returned to the Qianqing Palace, carrying an unpleasant odor.
As soon as he stepped inside, Gao Yuexing wrinkled her nose and instinctively covered her mouth with a handkerchief.
The Emperor also found it unbearable.
“…Where have you been?”
Li Fuxiang pointed from a distance to the two gilded boxes and asked, “Have you finished examining them?”
Gao Yuexing carefully restored the two gilded boxes to their original state, locked them, and put them away.
Li Fuxiang, aware of the unpleasant smell clinging to him, kept his distance. He motioned to Xu Xiude and said, “Hand them to me. I can still return them in time.”
The Emperor waved his hand.
Xu Xiude wrapped the boxes securely and handed them to Li Fuxiang.
Li Fuxiang turned and left immediately. The Emperor, wasting no time, called over one of his personal Jinyiwei guards to inquire about the situation.
What he heard infuriated him.
Li Fuxiang rushed to return the two boxes to the medical storeroom in the Imperial Medical Bureau. When he came back to the Qianqing Palace, the Emperor was waiting at the door and grabbed him by the ear.
“I heard you put the funeral robe on yourself. Are you out of your mind? Aren’t you afraid of bad luck?”
Gao Yuexing stood by with her arms crossed, watching coldly. She remained unmoved by Li Fuxiang’s pleading gaze.
By rights, they—one an emperor and the other a physician—should not have cared about such matters. But when it came to those closest to one’s heart, exceptions always existed, and no carelessness could be tolerated.
The corpse-like stench clinging to Li Fuxiang hadn’t entirely dissipated.
In the middle of the night, the Emperor ordered the bathhouse to be opened and had Li Fuxiang shoved in to wash.
The bath was filled with fragrant ointments and petals, creating a thick, aromatic pool.
Li Fuxiang sat in the water, sneezed twice, and looked up at the pool’s edge. To his surprise, there weren’t just eighteen palace maids standing respectfully on either side. The Emperor and Gao Yuexing were also stationed there, one on each side, watching him bathe.
Li Fuxiang looked bewildered.
Steam rose from the water, stopping just below his collarbone. Gao Yuexing felt out of place standing there, but the Emperor seemed unbothered.
The Emperor was reminded of his younger days. At Li Fuxiang’s age, the late Empress Dowager had already placed several palace maids in his quarters to serve him at night.
At that time, as a prince, he was neither the most exceptional nor the most mediocre, so he lived as carefree as could be. When the beautiful, gentle girls were sent to him, he accepted them all. A young man’s first experiences were thrilling, and if not for his aunt’s strict oversight, he might have ruined his health.
Li Fuxiang, born with physical frailty, was a different matter altogether. The Emperor kept a close eye on him, personally monitoring his wellbeing.
He could fend off external distractions, but he couldn’t stop Li Fuxiang from growing up.
Now that he was older, if proper lessons weren’t imparted soon, he feared there would be embarrassing consequences in the future.
The Emperor glanced at Gao Yuexing. She remained composed, looking at Li Fuxiang in the bath without the slightest blush or any sign of discomfort.
The Emperor harbored no other thoughts. In his eyes, Gao Yuexing was even younger than Li Fuxiang. Girls were generally more delicate and inexperienced. Their future marriage would undoubtedly require careful planning.
Little did he know, in Gao Yuexing’s mind, all of this was nothing more than trivial nonsense.
The Emperor was pondering who would be a suitable candidate to teach him. His gaze swept behind him and landed on Xu Xiude.
Xu Xiude was often said to understand the Emperor’s thoughts better than anyone else. Whatever the Emperor said or thought, Xu Xiude always grasped the deeper meaning. But even he couldn’t have anticipated this particular idea.
The Emperor turned and walked out on his own.
Xu Xiude hurried to follow.
Stepping into the cool autumn night, the Emperor was still damp from the bath. Xu Xiude produced a thick cloak from somewhere and draped it over the Emperor’s shoulders.
“Your Majesty, the nights are chilly now that autumn has arrived. Please take care of your health.”
The Emperor turned to look directly at him and said, “I recall… you entered the palace when you were under ten years old?”
Xu Xiude smiled and replied, “It’s remarkable that Your Majesty remembers such trivial matters. When I entered the palace, I can’t quite recall if I was eight or nine.”
The Emperor said, “Don’t give me that. You surely remember the year you were born into this world.”
Xu Xiude responded, “My life truly began the day I met Your Majesty.”
Hearing this, the Emperor couldn’t say much. Flattery from others often annoyed him, but Xu Xiude’s words always rang true, each one sincere.
The Emperor hesitated for a long time. Asking a eunuch about this sort of matter felt entirely inappropriate, yet he couldn’t think of anyone else he trusted more.
He was deeply concerned that if he entrusted this to worldly, experienced men, they might inadvertently lead his precious son astray.
Finally, the Emperor spoke, “When it comes to… matters between men and women, you aren’t particularly knowledgeable, are you?”
Xu Xiude’s eyes widened.
“Your Majesty, you must be joking. How could I know anything about such matters?”
The Emperor fell silent, his words faltering.
Today, Xu Xiude’s usually sharp mind seemed to be working against him, steering their conversation entirely off course. He pondered, “Your Majesty, is there some issue troubling you? Although I don’t know about such things, I am willing to do my utmost to ease Your Majesty’s worries.”
At last, the Emperor heard something that pleased him. His tense and conflicted expression visibly softened.
“They say that even if you’ve never eaten pork, you’ve seen pigs run. You’ve been by my side for years; you must have seen quite a bit in the past, haven’t you?”
Xu Xiude: “…”
The “past” the Emperor referred to seemed to date back at least a decade.
Xu Xiude asked cautiously, “So what does Your Majesty mean?”
The Emperor replied, “I don’t need you to know much—just the basics. Fuxiang is growing up…”
It was only then that Xu Xiude finally realized what the Emperor was getting at.
The Emperor said, “Xiude, he’s been raised in the deep confines of the palace, with little exposure to the outside world. Why don’t you teach him a thing or two?”
Xu Xiude was horrified.
“Your Majesty!”
The Emperor continued, “I’m not asking for him to understand everything right away. But the boy has come of age. Just… talk to him about it, that’s all.”