Chapter 113

Duke Ningxuan and Emperor Renshou were nominally cousins, but in reality, they were monarch and subject.

In terms of age, the late emperor was the eldest, Rong Mingyu the second, and Emperor Renshou, Sheng Xuyan, the youngest among them.

No matter how close they might have been in their youth, the relationship between a sovereign and his ministers always imposed a barrier, even more so in adulthood, when the distinctions of rank became absolute.

Rong Tang looked into Su Huaijing’s eyes. For a fleeting moment, he thought he was imagining things, but he quickly dismissed the idea, realising Su Huaijing wasn’t lying.

It was now the fifth month, the height of summer. Madam Qian’s pregnancy was nearing nine months, and she was due to give birth in the sixth month.

Rong Mingyu was so confident it would be a boy because, regardless of whether Madam Qian bore a boy or a girl, the child would ultimately be declared a boy and named the young master of Duke Ningxuan’s household.

In that case, the safest scenario would be for Madam Qian to remain childless.

What was puzzling, however, was why Rong Mingyu would want to raise another man’s child.

Rong Tang frowned lightly. A certain image flashed through his mind, and his expression froze. With an incredulous tone, he asked, “Concubine Yi?”

Su Huaijing smiled faintly, pulling Tangtang out of his dazed state, where he seemed lost in thought about his origins and destination.

Taking Rong Tang’s hand, Su Huaijing led him through the crowd and murmured, “Sheng Chengming is merely a decoy. The emperor, just in his early forties, is still strong and healthy. At the very least, he has another twenty years before he dies or abdicates. By then, when the Second Prince is nearing forty and the Eighth Prince is still in his prime, the latter will naturally have the advantage.”

No matter how fierce today’s struggles might be, they were only laying the groundwork for future contenders. As long as Emperor Renshou lived, the more prominent a prince’s rise now, the harder his fall would be later.

Suspicion governs all relationships—whether between monarch and minister or father and son.

Family harmony was the best defence, and no emperor, no matter how arrogant, would fear an infant in swaddling clothes.

Yet, some gambled on this arrogance. Rong Mingyu, having known his distinguished cousin for forty years, shared both enlightenment and rebellion with him. Naturally, he understood the emperor’s character.

Such matters weren’t suited for public discussion. Su Huaijing led Rong Tang away from Mu Jingxu and the others, meandering leisurely towards a carriage at the street corner.

By now, Rong Tang had pieced many things together.

The most straightforward example was the palace banquet. On that occasion, Rong Mingyu, preoccupied with Ke Hongxue’s attack, could not respond. Why was it that Concubine Yi, heavily pregnant, broke the deadlock?

Looking deeper, Concubine Yi’s summer childbirth coincided with Earl Wukang’s autumn rebellion, which implicated the entire Second Prince’s faction. Although Su Huaijing’s manoeuvring played a part, had Rong Mingyu also been involved?

At the very least, the elevation of the Eighth Prince to the status of the empress’s legitimate son held no personal advantage for Su Huaijing.

The crown prince is chosen first by legitimacy, then by seniority. With the Second Prince’s demotion and the court silenced, no minister would dare raise the issue of succession unless the Third Prince acted recklessly. As time passed and the Eighth Prince matured, Emperor Renshou would have to consider the legitimate son for the position of crown prince.

As for why Madam Qian was required to conceive and why Concubine Yi’s due date was so close to hers…

Rong Tang’s expression turned cold as countless possibilities crossed his mind.

Whether it was a case of swapping the crown prince, raising a child to bolster fortune, claiming a name on the family register, or preparing to replace the Eighth Prince openly in the future…

Rong Mingyu had his plans. Rong Tang only needed to speculate; there was no need to align his thoughts with Rong Mingyu’s.

But as he pondered, a noble and dignified face, tinged with faint sorrow, flashed through his mind.

His chest tightened involuntarily. Frowning, he asked, “When did he and Concubine Yi begin colluding?”

Su Huaijing replied, “Many years ago, before Concubine Yi was married.”

The capital’s talented scholars and beauties often associated, and Rong Mingyu, freer than the princes, would naturally forge ties with her early.

Rong Tang’s tone turned icy. “If he had someone he admired, why marry my mother?”

Su Huaijing answered, “Admiration is one thing; family background, high office, and ambition are another. Our Duke Ningxuan has always been clear about such distinctions.”

Rong Tang paused and looked at Su Huaijing. “He’s vying for the throne?”

Su Huaijing shook his head. “It’s unclear. The evidence isn’t complete. But he does seem intent on placing the child in Concubine Yi’s womb on the throne.”

Su Huaijing never speculated without reason; his conclusions were always well-founded.

Thinking it over, Rong Tang found his theory plausible, aligning with Rong Mingyu’s behaviour.

Rong Mingyu neglected his eldest son, allowed his second and youngest sons to align with rival princes, secretly colluded with Concubine Yi, and even plotted to send his niece into the palace to become the emperor’s concubine.

He wanted everything, casting a wide net.

Su Huaijing remarked, “But Concubine Yi’s family is powerful, and she is ambitious. If he allies with her, she might devour him. Unless…” He paused, gazing at Rong Tang, “Unless he weakens Senior Official Zhang and Sheng Chengming’s factions first.”

The carriage moved steadily, and the flickering candlelight illuminated the complexity in Rong Tang’s eyes. Su Huaijing, noticing, chuckled. “So he’s already done that.”

Pouring tea for Rong Tang, Su Huaijing let the soothing aroma fill the space. Calmly, he said, “Let me guess his next move.”

“Senior Official Zhang has served for decades with a solid foundation. Directly targeting him is difficult. Instead, weakening his influence and sidelining him would suffice. After all, where an old man dies matters little.”

Rong Tang felt numb as he listened to Su Huaijing’s predictions.

Caught between Su Huaijing’s analysis and the system’s agitated warnings in his head, Rong Tang felt like a cookie sandwich.

The system, though no longer favouring Sheng Chengli, seemed conflicted about hearing the main villain’s brazen schemes.

Rong Tang muttered, “You can’t stop him.”

“Not even argue with him,” he added.

Because Su Huaijing was truly, truly… unbelievably clever.

Rong Tang felt utterly exhausted, reflecting on how, in his past two lives, he had gone to such great lengths to oppose him.

If Rong Tang had been a university student who accidentally stumbled into the murky waters of political machinations, gradually climbing the ranks with the help of a cheat-like system, then Su Huaijing must have been the game’s max-level boss from the very start—constantly feeding him tricks.

He trained Rong Tang up just to satisfy his twisted sense of amusement, craving an opponent who could match him.

Utterly absurd.

Rong Tang sighed quietly. Then, he heard Su Huaijing ask, “The Second Prince?”

Rong Tang’s eyes flickered, and Su Huaijing smiled. “By taking down Sheng Chengming, we weaken Senior Official Zhang and the Second Prince’s faction, while simultaneously pushing Sheng Chengxing into the limelight as a target for public ire.”

“It can’t be too blatant, nor too feeble to make an impact…” Su Huaijing murmured, mentally crossing out names until he settled on a specific plan. His lips curved upward. “I did wonder why a note in Dasui script was tucked into the book Qin Pengxuan gave Sheng Chengming. So, he’s targeting Earl Wukang…”

He spoke softly, turning to Rong Tang with an almost childlike sincerity. “What should we do, Tangtang? In some ways, the Duke and I are frighteningly aligned.”

The more chaotic the court, the more vital the Imperial Censorate became, and Su Huaijing’s existence became even more indispensable.

He seemed to relish the disorder, viewing Earl Wukang as his first target. Even if not directly guilty, just having a son like Qin Pengxuan was reason enough for Su Huaijing to make an example of him.

Understanding Rong Mingyu’s schemes only made Su Huaijing more intrigued, even eager to intervene.

Rong Tang, frustrated by his eagerness, snapped, “Do what you like—I won’t stop you.”

On a more practical note, the title of Duke Ningxuan’s Shizi still provided them with a shield. It was far better for Rong Mingyu to rest easy than for him to flounder and slip up in front of Emperor Renshou.

Meanwhile, Rong Tang’s mind wandered to something he deemed far more pressing: persuading Wang Xiuyu to divorce.

What a scumbag!

Not only had he deceived her emotionally and physically, but now he also expected his wife to raise his illegitimate child?

What sort of rubbish man even was this? Someone like him deserved a crown?

Had he even thought about the consequences if the truth came to light and implicated his entire clan?

The irritation and exasperation on Rong Tang’s face were so vivid that Su Huaijing couldn’t resist silently observing for a while. Finally, he spoke. “Zumu took tangjie to Tuolan Temple. Since one plot has already been set in motion, why not a second?”

Rong Tang froze, realising Su Huaijing was referring to instructing Rong Ying to scheme against both the Eldest Princess and the Buddha. Wasn’t one act of sacrilege enough? Now he wanted another?

Su Huaijing, nonchalant as ever, said lightly, “A new baby is soon to be born in the family. A Dragon by zodiac, noble but with a shallow fate and weak foundation. Should there be a noble Tiger in the household, the clash between Dragon and Tiger may harm the infant, causing the child to lose its soul and the mother to fall ill. It would be best if said Tiger noble temporarily left the household.”

Rong Tang blinked. Wang Xiuyu’s zodiac was, indeed, Tiger.

Speechless, Rong Tang’s thoughts stalled. Even the system, usually babbling nonstop, fell silent. Were it visible, Rong Tang imagined it would be blinking dots of light in stunned rhythm.

After a pause, Rong Tang asked, “So my mother will never return?”

“First, a separation. It would ease her burdens and spare her the hassle of managing the household affairs. Mother could find some peace. If a divorce is possible, then all the better. If not, there will still be ways to make it work,” Su Huaijing replied, his tone dropping into the practised cadence of a charlatan. “The young master is exceedingly noble, but his fate burns too brightly for his earthly body to handle. Best to summon an older noble with a clashing zodiac to stabilise him while warding off harm.”

Su Huaijing continued, “Even if the child isn’t his biological son, the Duke would never allow him to perish. However, dismissing the Wang Fei in favour of a side consort would be scandalous. When that happens, Tangtang, ensure your mother takes as much from him as possible—and don’t let her feel sorry for him.”

The carriage rumbled onwards, stars glimmering in the summer night sky. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Rong Tang finally broke it. “Huaijing.”

“I’m here,” Su Huaijing replied with a light laugh.

“How on earth is your brain wired?” Rong Tang asked with utmost seriousness, utterly baffled.

Suddenly, his mind clicked. He could now see how this man had become the emperor’s favoured minister in his past two lives.

With this talent for weaving superstitious narratives, how could Emperor Renshou not fall for it?

Sycophantic courtier!

Young Prince Rong’s scathing review!