Chapter 92: The Battle of Hearts (Part Two)

Because of Yang Yaozong’s persistent questioning, the Prince of Virtue wished he could slap the impudent man before him, yet the interrogation also reminded him of Jing Yijun’s adorable childhood. Watching the candlelight sway in the wind, listening to the gentle patter of rain outside, all those feelings he had buried deep within his heart surged up unexpectedly. His chest felt tight, his nose tingled, and his eyes grew misty.

The Prince of Virtue paced to the door and spoke in a subdued tone, “Yijun’s mother, surnamed Bai and named Ruolian, was a gentle, kind, and beautiful woman. She was born into a modest scholarly family in Suzhou. However, she suffered from a chronic illness and remained unmarried until the age of twenty-five. I remember the year I was eighteen, accompanying His Majesty, who was then twenty-five, on a discreet inspection tour to Suzhou. As we walked onto a bridge, a woman in a flowing white dress walked ahead of us, unaware that her purse had fallen to the ground. I picked it up and saw it was embroidered with a lifelike white lotus floating on water. Embarrassed to return it myself, I handed it to His Majesty for him to give back. On the bridge, His Majesty caught up with the woman and returned her purse, telling her I had found it. She turned and smiled at me, nodding her thanks.”

After a moment of thoughtful silence, the Prince smiled faintly, “That woman in white was Yijun’s mother, Bai Ruolian. I can still vividly recall the first time I saw her, standing at the center of the bridge, smiling at me. That smile outshone all the beauty in the world. Though she wore a white dress, the green lake, blue sky, trees, and flowers seemed to lose their color, leaving only her as the brightest hue in existence. I regret that I did not return the purse to her myself that day. If only I had... if only I had—” The Prince clenched his right fist and slammed it hard against the doorframe.

Steadying his emotions, he continued, “When the affairs in Suzhou concluded, His Majesty returned to the capital, bringing Yijun’s mother with him and immediately appointing her as Consort De. My heart was in torment; I could not bear to witness their affection, so I led troops to battle, earning countless military honors. I wanted Yijun’s mother to see that I was no less than His Majesty, perhaps even superior in many ways! I fought bravely, striving for glory, just so news of my achievements would reach her ears and make her proud of me!”

“Yijun’s mother’s health was always poor. She conceived Yijun at thirty-seven, but died in childbirth. My injuries at that time were not serious; years of battle had made minor wounds common. Yet when I heard of her death, it felt as if my soul departed with her. I lost all motivation, living like a walking corpse, muddling through each day until illness confined me to bed. The soldiers, seeing I was gravely ill, sent me back to the capital. Not long after my return, despair overtook me, and I resigned my post as Grand General, surrendering all military authority. With her gone, for whom would I fight, for whom would I play the hero?”

Recalling Jing Yijun, the Prince’s face softened with a warm smile. “The first time I saw Yijun, she was still swaddled in blankets, her tiny, translucent, rosy face resembling her mother’s in seven parts. She cried in everyone’s arms but smiled only when I held her. Her little face was heartbreakingly endearing. Yet from birth, Yijun was frail and plagued by illness. I resolved to treat her as my own daughter and ensure her well-being. I sought renowned physicians far and wide, collected precious herbs for her treatment. I did not wish to see His Majesty again, but as he was busy during the day, I visited Yijun then.”

“Until the winter when Yijun turned three, I brought her favorite orange-flavored candies, only to be told she had been taken away by a great master to learn martial arts and cultivate her body. It was said this would allow her to live longer and happier. After Yijun left, my world lost all color again, and each day I prayed to see her soon. One year, two, three, four—now seventeen years have passed! Where is Yijun? Yang Yaozong, you said she has returned! But where is she?! Yijun would never forget me; if she has returned, she will surely come to see her Third Royal Uncle!”

Yang Yaozong had never imagined that the Prince’s lifelong love was for Jing Yijun’s mother, and that his love was so intense.

The Prince, seeing Yang Yaozong staring at him in thought, suddenly burst into angry laughter, shouting wildly, “Yang Yaozong, you’re deceiving me, aren’t you! His Majesty must have sent you to trick me, he’s going to strike at me, isn’t he!”

With that, he rushed into the rain, shouting, “Come, Jing Xiang! I, Marquis Jing An, have awaited you long enough. You arranged my marriage under the guise of propriety, but in truth, you sent that woman to monitor me, didn’t you! Has she told you that I have never so much as touched her finger? Everything I am belongs to Ruolian! And you? You took Ruolian away, yet treated her poorly, causing her to die from complications in childbirth. After Yijun’s birth, you despised her, sending her away without a second thought!”

The Prince knelt in the rain, murmuring in anguish, “I have searched for her all these years, but never found her. She must be gone. She must be gone.”

He then knelt frantically in the rain, waving his arms and howling, “Come, then! Come and kill me! With Ruolian and Yijun gone, what meaning is left in my life? Come and kill me!”

Jing Yijun and the Crown Prince emerged from behind the screen. Yang Yaozong, seeing Jing Yijun’s tear-stained face, said softly, “Go on, go see your Third Royal Uncle.”

Jing Yijun wiped her tears, nodded, and as she stepped outside, Eunuch Shun handed her the umbrella he had prepared.

The Prince’s pent-up emotions, repressed for years, finally burst forth as he knelt in the rain, laughing and crying. Suddenly, he noticed a woman in a white dress standing before him. He slowly raised his head and, upon seeing her face, whispered in astonishment, “Ruolian?” Then, abruptly rising, he exclaimed, “No, you’re not Ruolian, you’re Yijun!” His expression became excited and animated. “You’re truly alive. You look more and more like your mother—I nearly mistook you myself.”

Jing Yijun pressed back her tears, nodded and smiled, “Third Royal Uncle, let’s go inside. If you stay in the rain like this, you’ll catch a chill.”

The Prince nodded repeatedly, “Yes, yes, let’s go inside.”

Jing Yijun held the umbrella and supported the Prince as they entered the hall. Upon seeing the Crown Prince standing inside, the Prince immediately bowed in respect, “Your servant greets Your Highness.”

The Crown Prince hurriedly replied, “Grandfather, there’s no need for such formality. Please, quickly change your clothes lest you catch cold.”

Eunuch Shun had already prepared a clean set of clothes and led the Prince behind the screen to change.

Once dressed, the Prince’s chill had faded, and the warmth of seeing Jing Yijun filled his heart. He emerged to find Jing Yijun and the Crown Prince sitting side by side with Yang Yaozong, while Eunuch Shun stood respectfully behind the Crown Prince.

The Prince frowned, “Yang Yaozong, you are most disrespectful, daring to sit beside the Princess and the Crown Prince!”

Yang Yaozong, hearing this, felt his seat improper and began to rise, but Jing Yijun seized his hand and pressed him back into his seat. Jing Yijun looked at the Prince, blushing, “Third Royal Uncle, Father has already betrothed me to Yang Yaozong; he is my consort now. There’s nothing amiss in our sitting together.”

The Prince was shocked, “What! Your father knows Yang Yaozong is the son-in-law of the Nangong household, yet still made him your consort? This is nonsense! I will go speak to your father at once!”

Jing Yijun hurriedly interjected, “Third Royal Uncle, it was my own wish! It has nothing to do with my father!”

The Prince retorted angrily, “Even if you wish it yourself, it cannot be! What of your dignity as a Princess? Nonsense!”

Jing Yijun argued, “Third Royal Uncle, you have loved only my mother all these years. If you would separate me from Yang Yaozong—” Jing Yijun gazed tenderly at Yang Yaozong, “I too would remain unmarried for life, out of love for him.” She lifted her chin, cheeks flushed, and looked at the Prince with resolve, “So Father’s granting me to Yang Yaozong makes me feel very happy and blessed!” Throughout her words, Jing Yijun never let go of Yang Yaozong’s hand.

The Prince closed his eyes, then suddenly opened them, staring at Yang Yaozong, “Yang Yaozong, what virtue or merit do you possess to deserve such fortune!”

Yang Yaozong smiled gently at Jing Yijun, “I feel the same.”

The Prince was speechless, not expecting Yang Yaozong to admit it so frankly.

Jing Yijun shyly glanced at Yang Yaozong.

Yang Yaozong looked at the Prince, “Please, Prince of Virtue, take your seat.”

The Prince snorted and glared at Yang Yaozong before sitting down indignantly.

Yang Yaozong stared at him, “Why did you just now say that His Majesty caused Consort De’s death, and that he despised Yijun?”

The Prince responded, “Consort De was in the palace for so many years, yet her health never improved, and she died from complications in childbirth. Why else would Yijun have been sent away for so many years without a single visit? Surely, when I earned countless military honors in my youth, Consort De often praised me, which bred resentment in His Majesty toward her. Yijun was born weak and sickly, and coupled with his resentment, he was willing to send her away! He is a hypocrite!”

Before the Crown Prince or Jing Yijun could reply, Eunuch Shun stepped forward, bowed, and said, “I know that servants are not supposed to interrupt their masters, but today, even if it costs me my head, I must speak to the Prince. I have served His Majesty since the age of ten and know many things the masters do not. Please wait, Your Highness.”

With that, Eunuch Shun hurried out and soon returned, carrying a painting. He unfurled it before Yang Yaozong and the others. The painting depicted the scene the Prince had described: His Majesty returning the purse to Consort De, with the Prince standing beneath the bridge. However, unlike the Prince’s account, Consort De was reaching out to take the lotus-embroidered purse from His Majesty, gazing at him shyly, while His Majesty looked at her warmly. The two were clearly smitten at first sight.

Everyone in the hall understood the emotions contained within the painting. Eunuch Shun, his voice trembling, said, “This painting was created by Consort De herself, and hung in her chamber throughout her life. On her deathbed, she asked His Majesty to bury it with her. It was not buried only because His Majesty pleaded to keep it with him, saying it was as if Consort De was still by his side. He said if one day he passed, the painting would be burned for her, so they could enjoy it together in the afterlife. The purse embroidered with the white lotus has always been kept close to His Majesty. He calls it the token of their bond, and as long as he carries it, it is as if Consort De is always with him. I have often seen His Majesty weeping over the purse, or muttering to himself about the Princess and his longing for her.”

Upon hearing this, Jing Yijun gazed at the painting of her parents and wept uncontrollably. Yang Yaozong’s heart ached as he wrapped Jing Yijun in his arms, gently patting her trembling shoulder.

Eunuch Shun, regaining some composure, continued, “Consort De told His Majesty that the Prince was defending the border for the Zhou dynasty, so there should be someone at home who cares for him. She always treated the Prince as her own brother, personally selecting his wife for him. His Majesty merely handled the wedding arrangements. Consort De suffered from asthma, which, despite treatment after entering the palace, never fully healed. When she became pregnant, His Majesty advised her to give up the child, but she insisted on bearing his offspring. Unable to dissuade her, His Majesty stayed by her side daily. After her passing, His Majesty fainted from grief several times. Had he not been concerned about the little Princess, he might not have survived his heartbreak.”

The Prince’s eyes grew misty, but he refused to accept Eunuch Shun’s account. Shaking his head, he protested, “You’re lying! You’re lying! You’ve always served Jing Xiang, of course you’d speak well of him!”

Yang Yaozong, holding Jing Yijun tightly, eyes red, retorted, “Prince, you say Eunuch Shun is lying, but where did you hear that His Majesty treated Consort De poorly? You believe only what you choose to believe. To my knowledge, your wife has always been gentle and considerate. To outsiders, you and your Princess Consort were harmonious and loving. Yet you dare claim you never so much as touched her finger! What are you trying to prove? Your loyalty? Your devotion? Your Princess Consort was also a woman, your woman! She gave her youth to you without complaint. And you? Selfish, for the sake of a woman you could never have, you plunged another woman into misery, ruining her happiness! You say, after Consort De’s death, you became despondent and surrendered your military power! How can you justify that? As His Majesty’s brother, you had countless honors, and your reputation intimidated the barbarians. Instead of helping His Majesty to establish virtue, secure the people’s fate, continue the wisdom of the sages, and create peace for generations, you muddled through life. Are you worthy of the people’s respect and your soldiers’ admiration? Prince of Virtue! Do you truly deserve your title?”

The Prince sprang up, pointing angrily at Yang Yaozong, “Yang Yaozong, you—you—you—”

Yang Yaozong stared back coldly, “Prince, I always thought you relinquished your command out of fear His Majesty would suspect you, but now it’s clear it was your own weakness! Consort De’s death broke you completely! I say you should have stood up, returned to the battlefield, and lived freely and boldly! Let Consort De see your heroic spirit from the afterlife. Even if you died in battle, what of it!”

Hearing Yang Yaozong’s reprimand, the Prince slumped into his seat, weakly murmuring, “Then why did he send Yijun away?”

Jing Yijun gently rose from Yang Yaozong’s arms and explained why she had been sent away. After recounting her story, she added, “I traveled with my master, learning martial arts as we wandered, never settling in one place. How could Father have contacted me? Only when my master foresaw his end did he return me to his sect, and I promised not to leave unless summoned by Father. When I came back to the palace, I learned Father had promised my master not to contact me unless I turned twenty, so as not to disturb my cultivation. Now, not only am I cured of all illness, but I have also mastered martial arts. So, Third Royal Uncle, you truly misjudged my father.”

The Prince stared at Jing Yijun and asked softly, “Really?”

Jing Yijun nodded firmly.

Reflecting on his actions over the years, especially of late, the Prince felt deeply ashamed and sorrowful. He stammered, “Take me to see His Majesty.”