With three princes simultaneously killed, everyone secretly discusses this, pointing fingers at Wu Huifei and her son Prince Shou Li Mao. Court officials watch closely to see if Prince Shou will be made crown prince, and whether Emperor Li Longji is foolish enough to be manipulated by this mother-son duo.
During this sensitive time, Wu Huifei and Li Hui dare not celebrate the birth, fearing public criticism. Their only option is to remain low-key, quietly informing Li Longji of the birth and requesting a name.
Li Longji was also in a bad mood, and in a moment of anger, he killed three of his sons. Li Longji later deeply regretted it. After all, they were his own flesh and blood. People say that even tigers do not devour their young, but he was cold-blooded.
Soon, Consort Wu fell ill, overcome with guilt. The souls of the three princes haunted her day and night, demanding her life. Unable to bear such torment, Consort Wu became mentally disturbed and bedridden. Her condition worsened. Li Longji was very anxious, calling doctors and summoning shamans to perform rituals, but nothing helped.
With his mother-in-law ill, Yang Yuhuan, as a daughter-in-law, took the initiative to enter the palace to care for her and fulfill her filial duty.
Father-in-law Li Longji was also present.
Consort Wu was no longer the radiant woman she once was. She had grown thin and haggard, with sallow skin and lifeless eyes. Although her delicate features remained, she had completely transformed, like a frost-beaten chrysanthemum.
Li Longji did not despise her. He loved her as always, sitting by her bedside, holding her thin hand, calling out softly, “My beloved! My beloved!”
Consort Wu did not recognize him. Her eyes stared blankly at him: “Who are you?”
Li Longji felt heartbroken: “My beloved, don’t you recognize who I am?”
Consort Wu truly did not recognize him, still asking blankly: “Who are you?”
Li Longji said: “I am the Emperor, your husband.”
Consort Wu said: “Emperor? Husband?”
Li Longji said: “Yes, I am the Emperor, your husband.”
Consort Wu stopped speaking. Her eyes continued to stare at him, seemingly unable to comprehend what the Emperor and husband had to do with her. After looking for a while, she slowly moved her bewildered eyes elsewhere. Suddenly, Consort Wu jumped up, her body shaking violently, pointing ahead and screaming in terror: “They’re here again! They’re here again!”
Li Longji looked in that direction but saw nothing. He asked, puzzled: “Who?”
Consort Wu’s face changed dramatically, covered in cold sweat, her eyes filled with terror and despair, screaming: “You! Don’t come near! Don’t come near! I’m scared! I’m scared!”
Li Longji embraced Consort Wu and suddenly burst into tears. Men rarely shed tears, but only because they haven’t reached the most heartbreaking moment. At this moment, holding the woman he had loved for so many years, he was utterly devastated, overwhelmed by infinite sadness, helplessness, and sorrow.
Yang Yuhuan stood nearby, also shedding tears. After all, her father-in-law Li Longji was no ordinary person, but the current Emperor, who could command wind and rain, the supreme ruler. Yang Yuhuan never expected that her imperial father-in-law would be such an emotional person, so deeply devoted to Consort Wu.
Perhaps due to age and motherhood, she had become more radiant, more rounded and lustrous, with increased feminine charm, like a blooming peony – full, ripe, smooth, and transparent, radiating an alluring light.
Sometimes, while looking, Li Longji would momentarily be reminded of the young Consort Wu. At that time, he too was young, in his twenties, a handsome man who could whistle on the street and attract women in droves.
When did he first meet Consort Wu?
It was during a season of spring blossoms.
Li Longji had just ascended to the throne, full of vigor and confidence. That day, with nothing to do, he was accompanied by Gao Lishi to stroll in the rear garden. Before even entering, he heard a series of laughter, like silver bells in the wind, clear and brilliant.
Then, Li Longji saw a young, beautiful girl with several palace maids, enthusiastically observing the fish in the pond under the leafy arbor.
That girl! Ah, that girl, truly a peerless beauty, like Chang’e emerging from the moon palace, incomparably beautiful, with snow-white skin, large eyes, a high nose, and small, slightly upturned lips. She was impeccably adorned, perfectly proportioned, neither too plump nor too thin, beautiful and charming, fresh as a peach blossom moistened by rain in March.
Perhaps excited by the fish in the pond, the girl forgot herself and picked up a small stone to throw into the water, instantly creating ripples that scattered, causing the fish to flee in all directions.
The girl tilted her head back and laughed.
Li Longji opened his eyes wide, his soul adrift, his heart stirring. All men are lustful; as long as they’re not eunuchs and psychologically and physiologically normal, whether heroes or bears, they need women, especially breathtakingly beautiful women. Li Longji’s gaze was unabashedly fixed on the girl, unable to move from her flower-like face.
Gao Lishi, highly skilled at reading expressions, saw Li Longji’s glowing eyes and immediately understood what Li Longji was thinking. Gao Lishi straightened his chest, cleared his throat, and coughed artificially: “Ahem!”
The girl looked over.
Li Longji didn’t know the girl, but she knew him. Of course, as the current emperor, everyone would recognize him. Among the beautiful young women in the palace, who wouldn’t know the emperor’s true appearance?
Everyone understood that as a palace woman, one must do everything possible to gain the emperor’s favor.
The girl walked over and bowed: “This servant greets the Emperor.”
Li Longji said: “Rise.”
Gao Lishi asked: “What is your surname?”
The girl blinked her large eyes and answered: “Wu.”
Gao Lishi immediately understood, glancing at Li Longji while saying: “Oh, so you’re surnamed Wu, you’re the daughter of Prince Heng’an.”
The girl said: “Yes.”
Gao Lishi glanced at Li Longji again, meaning “handle this yourself.”
Prince Heng’an was Wu Zetian’s nephew.
Gao Lishi wanted to remind Li Longji that it wasn’t about whether cousins could fall in love; the emperor’s love was free, loving whoever he wanted. He wanted to say that everyone was opposing the Wu family, as the Ritual Classics say: “One cannot live under the same sky with their parents’ enemies.”
Li Longji didn’t care.
In the libertine emperor’s mind, women were distinguished by beauty and ugliness. All ugly women were his enemies; all beautiful women were his friends, who could share his bed and enjoy romantic moments.
That night, Li Longji took the Wu girl’s delicate hand and entered the bridal chamber.
This Wu girl was Wu Huifei. Wu Huifei, with her beauty, served one night and was favored for life.
A cry of “Your Majesty” awakened Li Longji. He realized that the woman in his arms was not Wu Huifei, but his daughter-in-law Yang Yuhuan. Li Longji was extremely embarrassed, his face turning red, and he quickly let go of Yang Yuhuan.
Wu Huifei continued calling: “Your Majesty.” Li Longji hurried to her side: “My beloved concubine?”
Wu Huifei’s mind cleared slightly. She stretched out a withered hand, tightly grasping Li Longji. She only held onto Li Longji, the man who loved her and whom she loved. She looked at him for a long time, her mouth trembling, but unable to say a word.
Wu Huifei knew that more than half of her body had already entered the underworld. Truly, she could smell the scent of the coffin. But she was unwilling. Deeply unwilling. Her son, Prince Shou Li Mao, had not yet been made crown prince. How could she die without peace?
Li Longji was still hesitating: “But—”
