“Duan Chang seemed uncomfortable and did not continue, but I understood. An Jin was close to Su Xi and rumored to have an ambiguous relationship with Su Hui. Many believed he was under Su Hui’s charm. Duan Chang presumably suspected that An Jin, out of personal interest, had instructed the official to erase Su Xi’s existence in this case, doing a favor for the Su family.
After washing up, An Jin went to the study, energetic, and spoke with Duan Chang for nearly half an hour. When Duan Chang left, he was full of apologies for disturbing An Jin’s rest. An Jin, gentle and calm, praised him for being conscientious, and they bid farewell like old friends.
This was the outcome I expected. Not only did he fail to uncover anything, but he was also largely dissuaded from his suspicions by An Jin’s few words. In terms of strategy and skill, they were not on the same level.
Whether Duan Chang intended to continue investigating or not, his final result would likely be nothing. Duan Chang could give up, but I could not treat this matter as fleeting. Although officials find it difficult to maintain absolute clarity, this matter involved Su Xi and Su Hui. If I did not clarify it, I would always have a knot in my heart.
An Jin saw Duan Chang off and returned to find me hesitating, his gentle expression disappearing as he sighed. “I know what you want to ask.”
A light snow had fallen the previous night, leaving traces on the garden soil and forming thin ice that crunched underfoot. An mansion was quiet, with servants hurrying past silently. I loved liveliness, but in the entire An mansion, only sparrows could chat with me; other people appeared only when needed.
We walked in silence for a while, then he spoke: “This matter was indeed done by me.”
I stopped. “Why? Are you truly protecting Su Xi out of personal interest?” My main concern was whether it involved Su Hui.
An Jin pulled my hand into his embrace, laughing softly, his breath forming mist on his eyelashes, making his eyes especially bright. “No. Not because of Su Xi, not because of Su Hui.”
I had to do this for a necessary reason, but it involves confidential matters I can’t disclose now.”
I turned my eyes away, feeling both guilty and happy. “I didn’t mention Su Hui. Fine, don’t tell me. I’m not interested anyway.”
“Mm, you didn’t mention Su Hui,” An Jin nodded. “I sensed trouble brewing, so I prepared in advance.”
An Jin’s words eased my mind, but I sensed an unusual atmosphere, as if beneath the surface’s calmness, a dangerous undercurrent was approaching.
Soon after, the case was concluded. The involved official and the impersonator were exiled, those who received bribes were removed from office, and Su Xi escaped this calamity.
However, I still felt uneasy. With An Jin and my father-in-law away, my mother-in-law absent, the sparrow distracted, and Yuan Feng appearing agitated, I returned to my parents’ home for help. Father said, “According to historical records, similar symptoms appeared in Empress Ming De, which scholars termed ‘Secluded Wife’s Resentment Syndrome.'”
Mother rummaged through boxes and pulled out a book called “Twenty Techniques for Bearing Children,” handing it to me and saying earnestly, “Once you have a son, you’ll stop overthinking.”
My younger sister dragged me shopping, spending all my private funds, and asked triumphantly, “Still feeling anxious?” I shook my head, gritting my teeth, “Now I’m just feeling the pain of financial loss.”
My elder brother listened, then suddenly sighed deeply, “If only we had known earlier!” I was stunned, wondering if he meant I should not have married An Jin. He followed with another sigh, “What should be done… sister, tell me what I should do?”
I had forgotten he had just reconciled with Miaoyin and was likely conflicted, leaving no room for my concerns. But being tossed around by family, I gradually forgot my unease and lived on happily.
This peace lasted until the year-end Thanksgiving Banquet.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Farewell to the Eastern Palace
As per tradition, His Majesty of Qi held a banquet at Fengrui Hall to thank his officials, requiring officials of the fifth rank and above to bring their families. Officials dined in the outer hall, while the women were hosted by the Empress in the inner hall.
I was reluctant to attend but could not avoid it. The women of officials and concubines were seated according to rank, from near to far.
High-ranking concubines held their heads high, casually receiving flattery, while lower-ranking ones assessed the prominent figures and flocked to them. Among the court ladies of Qi, the Empress and the Seventh Princess drew the most attention. Among the outer court ladies, the wife of the Grand Minister and Su Hui, daughter of the Minister of Rites, were most celebrated, as many speculated that Su Hui would be the next consort of the Eastern Palace.
I was also a center of attention, mostly from young ladies, either out of curiosity or jealousy, primarily because I was married to a popular husband.
Despite the freezing winter outside, Fengrui Hall was warm, with heated water circulating and braziers placed every five steps. The Empress wore a nine-phoenix robe and a lotus gold crown, dignified and noble, with twelve imperial guards standing beside her.
After the grand music, all ladies knelt to greet the Empress and offer the first cup of wine. The Empress drank and instructed everyone to be seated. My seat was near the phoenix throne, next to Su Hui, with the Seventh Princess directly across, giving me a sense of being caught between two threats.
I quickly opened my eyes, rubbing my head in a just-awakened state. “Where am I… Your Majesty!”
“Lady An,” the Queen stood outside the bed, her expression solemn and proud. “You just fainted in the hall.”
This is Master Sun, the most skilled imperial physician in the palace.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, but I’ve been feeling a bit weak recently and have already seen a doctor.”
“My lady, no need to be polite,” the Queen insisted, turning to Master Sun. “Please examine the lady.”
Her tone was definitive. My heart pounded, and I felt an ominous fear.
After taking my pulse, Master Sun looked at me with compassion.
He then bowed to the Queen. “Your Majesty, the lady is weak and cold, with blocked meridians. This indicates yin deficiency and cold.”
“Explain further.”
“Yes,” he said, glancing at me again. “The lady’s constitution is special. I fear she may find it difficult to conceive a child.”
My mind went blank.
The Queen approached with a sympathetic expression. “No wonder Lady An has been married to Lord An for over two years without a child. Rest assured, I will have Master Sun prescribe some tonic to help you recover.”
I stood there, nodding slightly. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The Queen and the physician left, leaving me to rest. I took the opportunity to walk out to the garden, pacing in distress.
I was troubled not because the physician declared me infertile, but because I realized I had fallen into a trap, unable to explain myself.
Doctor Liu had previously checked my pulse, and I had always been healthy. Where had this cold condition come from? Now that the imperial physician had spoken, it felt irrefutable. If the Queen insists I am ill, how could I argue?
What was her purpose in forcing this infertility diagnosis on me?
I thought of the Seventh Princess. Could she be creating a reason for the Seventh Princess to marry An Jin by pushing for my divorce? But I quickly dismissed this idea. The marriage alliance with Western Liang was imminent and could not be called off.
Regardless of the reason, it wasn’t good news. The cup of wine likely intended to make me faint, providing an excuse to examine my pulse. I hadn’t expected my spontaneous fainting to save them that trouble.
