Mother takes care of the children until her last breath

The emperor sat with an icy expression on his face and placed both of his hands on the arm of the golden-carved throne. He was dressed in a black dragon robe with golden wire embroidery and pearls sewn into the fabric.

Four maids gently fanning him with their heads fixed to the ground were seated on the back of the throne, a meter high above his hand, and were dressed in high-class palace uniforms and silver hairpins that indicated their social standing.

The long, rare beads tingled in front of his eyes as if they were curtaining his wrinkled face, rich in experience, his sharp eyes, and his dignified aura, enough to make a man tremble in his presence. It was obvious because he was the sovereign of the unified kingdom of Zhao.

However, Prince Wu stood on the high platform before the emperor's throne in his golden robe, holding a white long plate, curved at its ends, with his name and title finely engraved on it.

In this grand assembly, it was only Prince Wu who possessed the audacity to raise his gaze and meet the emperor's stern countenance eye to eye, his vision sweeping over the people below him.

Surrounded by a sea of countless individuals, eight rows of ministers formed two opposing factions, their heated discussions focused on confidential matters of paramount importance.

These ministers congregated in groups of four, engaging in discussions that knew no bounds, devoid of restraint.

Among them, some stood as stoic observers, their neutrality a testament to their silent contemplation. Others, however, shared bonds of amicability as they passionately debated.

But, as is often the case in matters of great import, passions ran high. Some ministers, in vehement agreement with one another, proposed fervent suggestions, while others engaged in verbal combat that seemed driven by an insatiable enmity.

A select few, holding high-ranking positions, chose to stand alone, their lips bereft of utterance. Their vacant stares fixated upon the carpet, they appeared as if lost in their thoughts, an enigma to those around them.

These individuals mirrored the emperor's enigmatic temperament, their intentions veiled, and concealed from the prying eyes of the court. Such inscrutable figures were perhaps the most fearsome, for one could never discern the lines between offense and favor in their inscrutable minds.

Much like his father before him, Prince Wu possessed an uncanny ability to read the subtleties etched upon the faces of those around him, discerning the true meaning behind their words and even deciphering the silence that concealed the ministers' most clandestine thoughts.

He chose to listen to everyone because that was what he was supposed to do on behalf of his father, even though he was tired from standing for three hours since early morning. His only regret was not having enough for breakfast.

In this tumultuous morning assembly, Prince Wu occasionally stole glances at his father, seeking a sign of approval or disapproval. However, the Chief Eunuch, a figure no more responsive than the inanimate walls, possessed ears to hear but no words to offer.

The assembly seemed endless, with debates and arguments prevailing, the well-educated scholars proving no more composed than the generals and commanders they had, at times, regarded as illiterate. Their words were like missiles, piercing each other's skin as they descended into personal attacks, escalating the debate into a fierce verbal battle.

Amidst this chaotic exchange, none among them seemed to remember the presence of the sovereign. The emperor himself did not seem to give their disputes much importance, having already delegated the authority to address the matter to Prince Wu.

Within the royal court, nestled along the left corridor behind a diaphanous veil of fine silk, sat Prince Ming. He reclined in a rather impolite manner, his left leg dangling over the arm of the chair while the other carelessly grazed the ground. His posture exuded an air of nonchalance, and he leaned back in the chair as if he were almost lying down.

Despite the cacophony emanating from the adjacent main hall, it appeared to have no effect on Prince Ming. Flanked by two diligent eunuchs, one on either side, he nonchalantly enjoyed his grapes, accepting them as they were placed into his mouth. He seemed to be content in his own world, entertaining himself in a manner befitting a typical, pampered prince.

The ministers, who couldn't help but cast sidelong glances at the prince, found another reason to draft their grievances, adding to the growing list of concerns about his behavior.

"Your Majesty, Grand Empress Dowager, is seeking an audience," Chief Eunuch announced as a junior. He reported him cautiously.

An abrupt and profound hush descended upon the assembly of ministers. They seemed to freeze in place; words that had nearly tumbled from their mouths were now swallowed back as they sought to regain their composure. Whispered exchanges between them, inquiring about the state of their demeanor and appearance, ensued.

"What is the matter?" The emperor, who had hitherto appeared indifferent to the proceedings, abruptly rose from his throne. In an instant, the ministers prostrated themselves, bowing deeply before him.

A chilling expression of horror etched across the sovereign's countenance, and this eerie emotion seemed to radiate outward, enveloping the entire assembly. Even Prince Wu, standing nearby, was seized by a tremor, his face became pale.

"Court dismissed!" With a decisive wave of his hand, the emperor declared the end of the assembly. Swiftly, he made his way to another throne positioned at the rear of the Imperial Court, where he typically spent his time perusing the myriad memoranda that crossed his desk.

At times, the consorts would pay visits to the emperor, a place where he managed the affairs of the harem alongside discussions of top-secret matters with high-ranking officials. He cast a discreet glance at the Prime Minister, silently communicating his request.

"Assist my son in this matter," the emperor directed, and Prime Minister Xuan nodded his head in acknowledgment. He promptly made his exit from the court, following the ministers who were dispersing through the three grand gates, according to their respective ranks.

"Dear son, you seem to be unwell. I suggest you return and take proper rest," the emperor turned to Prince Wu and offered his advice, his complexion taking on a peculiar bluish hue, as if he were struggling for breath.

Prince Wu lowered his head in deference and left without inquiring further. He couldn't help but wonder why his great-grandmother, who typically resided in her own palace, had come to the emperor in person when she could have summoned him or awaited his visit after the court session.

"It's the first time she's walked into the inner chambers of the imperial court since my father's enthronement," he mused to himself, departing the main hall. "What could have compelled her to journey all this way? Why does my father appear so flustered?" His thoughts swirled, but he couldn't quite grasp the reason behind her unusual visit.

"Am I forgetting something?" he murmured a sense of uncertainty lingering in his mind, but the elusive answer eluded him. As he exited, the emperor issued a command that resonated through the court: "Retreat, everyone. Vacate the entire court." His lips quivered slightly as he spoke.

The four eunuchs, debating whether to rouse the dozing Prince Ming, decided that their own heads were better left undisturbed and chose to exit the court silently, leaving the prince in his peaceful slumber.

Disrupting Prince Ming from his peaceful slumber was deemed a perilous act, something the eunuchs would avoid even in an emergency. They harbored the belief that if the emperor desired the prince's departure, he would make that wish known.

As the emperor Zhao, turned to hurry into the inner chamber of the Imperial court from the left side, a wheezy voice, resonant with age, reached his ears from the right. The words, "Huangdi..." quivered with a kind of trepidation that sent shivers down the emperor's spine. He swung around, his eyes tightly shut and his eyebrows furrowing deeply, a visible tremor coursing through him.

"Yes... Imperial Grandmother," he responded, his voice laden with respect, and he promptly knelt as his face aligned with hers.

The Imperial Grandmother clasped her hands together, her eyes bearing an expression of deep concern that only intensified the emperor's disquiet.

"Rise," she commanded, her words reverberating with a tone of authority. She moved towards him with measured, elegant steps.

The emperor complied, ascending from his kneeling position like a submerged dragon before his senior. He extended his hand to assist his grandmother and then facilitated her seating upon his throne, a gesture both respectful and supportive. This throne was a symbol of power and authority, and not even the Empress or the crown prince would dare touch it in a manner that could be perceived as coveting the throne. Such audacity would surely be met with a beheading.

"Have you contemplated it?" The Imperial Grandmother inquired with directness. The emperor, burdened by guilt, remained silent, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"I have already presented you with the evidence—those accounts, those letters... They all bear witness to the truth that was shrouded two decades ago—the truth that subjected your aunt to immense humiliation and insults. What is preventing you?" She asked, her anger palpable in her hushed tone, the words echoing off the chamber's walls.

Her inquiry roused the Prince from his slumber, and upon opening his eyes, he found himself alone except for his great-grandmother, who was seated on the throne, and his father, standing before her, appearing as if he were a mere child in her presence.

"I, the sovereign," his father began, his voice tinged with regret, "....repented immediately after issuing that decree. It was a hasty decision, and I deeply regretted it. I mourned once more when it cost the life of the Grand Prince Consort as he privately investigated the matter. However, I found myself incapable of rectifying my mistake and unable to reverse my decision. My own ego obstructed my path each time I sought to make amends."

"And that ego still stands in your way, doesn't it?" She inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Grandmother," the Sovereign responded, "as you have advised, my sister has led a good life, perhaps with the assistance of Xuan Wei. If I were to step forward and claim that her wealth was bestowed by me, it would be a grave affront to my sovereignty. Although only a select few are aware of the confiscation of her wealth, the rumor has already permeated society, becoming an open secret."

"From what I know, Xuan Wei would never boldly provide her financial aid, as it would be a direct affront to me. He has never mentioned her after beseeching me to spare her life," the emperor explained succinctly. "I doubt they have maintained any contact since the passing of his father."

"So, do you suspect that she might have resorted to questionable means to sustain her empty title and status?" His great-grandmother inquired.

The emperor nodded in agreement, acknowledging the unspeakable reason that had held him back: "It's true."

"Huangdi, are you blind? The evidence clearly absolves her of the crime for which she was unjustly punished," his great-grandmother declared, her voice rising with resentment.

"She is indeed innocent in this case, but what can explain her current prosperous life? If I claim to have supported her, I'll face criticism. Yet if I admit that I never did, people will still criticize me," he lamented, his dilemma reaching its zenith.

"If you find it challenging to decide, why not seek counsel from your sons? They can offer an objective perspective, and whatever course of action they choose, you can deflect any implications easily. As the future of this empire, it is only natural for them to consider your best interests," she suggested, her words uttered without hesitation yet possessing a certain wisdom. It appeared to be the most prudent course of action, especially when the emperor himself was entangled in this delicate matter, to entrust the decision to the regency.