Seeing Xun Changqing’s earnest, student-like demeanor, Wei Lingci’s eyes and brows curved unconsciously. She reached out to stroke her black hair, saying softly: “This is ancient history; it’s normal you don’t know. It’s also the root of why the Shao Family targets Pingnan Prince’s Mansion.”
“Isn’t it because Father’s military achievements are too great, obstructing the Shao Family’s dominance over the court?”
“That’s only part of it. In terms of legitimacy, Pingnan Prince is the direct eldest lineage, more qualified to inherit the throne than His Majesty. Tracing back to the previous dynasty, after her husband’s death, the Condensing Origin Empress seized the throne. She had two princesses, and by rights, the eldest princess Xun Qihuan should have succeeded her. But she craved the freedom of the jianghu and yielded the throne to her younger sister—your Previous Emperor Xun Qian. Shao Yun knows this story and fears Pingnan Prince will reclaim the throne, so she constantly suppresses him.”
Such matters were known only to old ministers from three reigns, and few spanned all three. Xun Changqing was unaware, having learned only from her mother’s tales.
Understanding dawned on Xun Changqing, and she continued: “So the Wise Noble Consort knows this too, and that’s why she allies with us?”
“The Wise Noble Consort is no ordinary woman. As his pillow companion, she knows His Majesty’s heart. He grows increasingly disgusted with the Shao Family and the Empress; even Xun Yiran’s cruelty has worn away a father’s patience. For Great Qi to endure for millennia, he cannot pass the throne to Xun Yiran. Pingnan Prince is his only choice.”
This was what the world called a necessary evil.
Xun Changqing blinked her long lashes. Grasping the cause and effect, she said: “But His Majesty hasn’t grown to hate Xun Yiran yet—just deep dislike. So the Wise Noble Consort helps turn that dislike into hatred? A prince who can’t win support, one whose crimes fill the heavens, is enough to be deposed.”
The current Emperor was a rare enlightened ruler. Though he achieved no great feats in his reign, defending the realm was harder than conquering it. He had walked the cliff’s edge alone for over forty years and did not wish to squander his ancestors’ legacy. He needed a worthy successor. Moreover, he knew the throne belonged to the direct eldest line by right, so placing hope in Pingnan Prince’s Mansion was returning it to its rightful owner.
However, the Emperor would not directly pass the throne to Xun Yi now. As both emperor and father, he still held high hopes for Xun Yiran and was observing. Wei Lingci aimed to make his inner thoughts reality.
She would use facts to tell him: Xun Yiran was unworthy to be emperor!
This might be cruel, but the imperial family lacked mercy. If Xun Yiran ascended, it would repeat the previous life’s tragedies: loyal ministers slaughtered, people in uproar, Great Qi’s foundations crumbling.
Without needing Wei Lingci to elaborate, Xun Changqing guessed it all. But one thing piqued her curiosity more: Did her father, Xun Yi, know? She pursed her lips and looked at Wei Lingci, hoping for his stance.
Wei Lingci paused briefly, understanding Xun Changqing’s feelings. In a child’s heart, a father was a towering hero. Xun Yi fit that, but the Xun Changqing tortured by his rebellion in the previous life only hoped her father stayed uninvolved in treason or usurpation. The current scheme wasn’t rebellion but still coveted the throne.
Xun Yi had merits for Great Qi and knew he was the direct eldest. With an enlightened emperor, he submitted; if not, he would raise his banner—that was the way of a hero.
Wei Lingci lowered her eyes, a flicker of reluctance and post-struggle pain scattering within. Slowly, she said: “He probably knows. Nothing in the Imperial Capital escapes him. Moreover, the Wise Noble Consort contacted Pingnan Prince’s Mansion, and I’m not of the mansion—all decisions are made on its behalf by me, and the outcome will be reported to him.”
After speaking, Wei Lingci raised her eyes to the silent Xun Changqing, sighing heavily in her heart. The things she hid from Xun Changqing had to come to light now, or when Xun Yi returned, it would all unravel.
Behind the silence lay Xun Changqing’s indescribably complex emotions. She unconsciously shifted back a little, her fingertips clutching the woolen blanket. Wei Lingci had contacted her father in her name, handling all the dirty, bloody deeds while all the glory fell to her. If successful, her father would thank her; if exposed, Wei Lingci bore no ties to Pingnan Prince’s Mansion—she would just be deceived at most, right?
Upon returning to the Imperial Capital, she had found it odd how well Wei Lingci knew the mansion’s affairs. She thought it was from her previous life’s memories, but those didn’t exist for her—why did Wei Lingci have them? Doubts grew over time, but Wei Lingci’s sincerity made it moot. Now it seemed she had long been in touch with her father.
No wonder upon her return, her father sent no letters, no comfort—Wei Lingci had intercepted them. That night, she even made her write to him personally; thinking back, it was laughable. Her father probably didn’t even recognize her handwriting.
“Wei Lingci, if you ruin me, would I still think you’re a good person…?”
