Chapter 776: Bloodline (10)

The Son of Heaven was startled.

Very startled.

It was not that Heavenly Flower Sword’s identity was so unimaginably shocking that he flailed his hands up lopsided in some ridiculous gesture of surprise.

From the start, it was the kind of absurd nonsense you’d hesitate to utter even as a joke.

What truly startled him was the sound still ringing clear in his ears.

Across East and West alike, under Heaven there is no word for parents who have lost a child.

A husband who has lost his wife is a widower.

A wife who has lost her husband is a widow.

A child who has lost their parents is an orphan.

But there is no word that designates parents who have lost a child.

Because that is a catastrophe so terrible you can hardly bring it to your lips; to label parents who have lost a child with some neat little word would be something no human being ought to do.

So people, trying to wrap comfort and sorrow around it, came up with a way to speak around it: among them, there is the word “gut-rending.”

Once, a sailor caught a baby monkey, intending to raise it himself, and brought it aboard ship.

When the mother monkey saw this, she let out a great howl and chased the ship.

The sailor was so startled he tried to return the baby, but the terrain of the Three Gorges along the Long River was too sheer to bring the ship in to shore, and it was only when they reached the narrow waterway at the entry to Sichuan, beyond that point, that he was finally able to give it back.

However, no sooner had the mother monkey taken her baby back than she died on the spot.

When they split her belly open, her innards had been ripped to shreds.

So they said the heart of a mother who has lost her child is so grief-stricken that her very guts might snap apart, and that the terrible sound a mother makes as she howls for a lost child is also “gut-rending.”

The Son of Heaven had heard that very sound.

Even the greatest physician under Heaven had shaken his head and recommended a gentle poison, and the Empress, clutching all day long at a daughter who hovered unconscious on the threshold of death, who might have died at any moment, had let loose a cry that must surely have been the sound of her own insides rotting and tearing apart.

If the monks of Heavenly-Maiden Temple had not appeared back then, the Empress might well have wasted away and followed after her.

Fortunately, Heaven had shown favor and ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) Yeonsul had lived, and thanks to that, the Empress had been able to stop crying.

But perhaps the grief had simply been too vast.

The Empress had begun to show signs of madness.

Saying that that Yeonsul did not feel like Yeonsul, she had shunned her, and she had loathed the monks of Heavenly-Maiden Temple as if they were mortal enemies, throwing fits that they should be beheaded at once.

Then suddenly she had raised a clamor that she must go offer prayers, and he had readily given permission, thinking perhaps she might improve a little if she could at least get some air outside the palace walls.

Even though, by rights, the Empress could not simply go out on excursions beyond the palace at will.

Perhaps Shaolin’s spiritual energy truly was efficacious—after that, the Empress had regained her former sharpness.

And now, after all that, again?

“Empress. That is...”

The Son of Heaven broke off and closed his mouth.

But the Empress clearly still had things she meant to say.

“Heavenly Flower Sword is our Yeonsul. A mother took one look and knew her at a glance—whatever anyone else might say, a child born from my womb and raised as mine is something a mother recognizes by a mother’s own uncanny sense. She is my daughter.”

The question did cross his mind that while the Empress had indeed given birth to her, the one who had truly raised her was Lady Deokseong.

But the Son of Heaven pressed his lips firmly shut.

With someone whose madness had flared up, he had no idea what words he could possibly say, and if he said it was all nonsense, it would only grow worse; even if he refuted her logically, what use was logic in the face of madness?

At that, the Empress’s eyes—no, her eyeballs—popped wide, turning vicious to the extreme.

“Of course, Your Majesty would not know. Your Majesty never liked that child to begin with!

Instead of pitying that little thing who shrank and watched your face in terror every time she stood before you, you scolded her, you yelled at her, you hated her!

So even when a fake brazenly took her place, you never noticed who she truly was! Isn’t that so!?”

“......”

The Son of Heaven silently endured the Empress’s fury.

“That is why I did not wish to tell Your Majesty.

Even if I spoke, you would not understand, and even if you claimed you did understand, it would do Yeonsul no good.

I thought it would be better to let me live as I pleased, out there.”

The Empress spewed flame for a long while after that, then finally drew in ragged, seething breaths.

Only then did the Son of Heaven, who had remained silent all that time, quietly open his mouth.

“Sigh. As my Empress says, I shall first confirm whether Ximen Qing’s true identity is truly Yeonsul.”

“She is a child who has no memory after her illness—how do you propose to confirm it?

If you mean to put those witches from Heavenly-Maiden Temple to the rack until they spit out the truth, then if they are to die anyway, I will confess the truth here and now.

Is that not so, Your Majesty?”

“No, that method is something you know as well, Empress.

If Heavenly Flower Sword claims she has no memory, and palace Yeonsul claims to remember bits and pieces, then... no, no.”

The Son of Heaven waved a hand.

“Do this instead. My Empress too must see with her own eyes to know the truth or falsehood of it......”

*****

“My lady, how are you feeling? Has the prescription I gave you brought any improvement?”

At that, Qing first swallowed.

She had gulped down the precious medicine, and it felt off to say it had brought no improvement at all, but if she said it had helped, that damned fucking wedding—that ruthless destruction of her dignity—would go forward.

Caught between conscience and dignity, she could neither say this nor that.

“Uh, it’s still a little... hard to say......”

“Is that so? In that case, to take an accurate reading, we will need to draw blood.

Now then, my lady. Will you do it yourself?”

“Uh, is it really necessary to go as far as drawing blood?”

“This old man must also submit a report to the Son of Heaven, must he not?

Either ‘She has improved,’ or ‘She has not yet improved.’

Even if I am unsure, I must at least report that I have drawn blood and am examining it, for my own face to be saved, do you not agree?”

Qing’s eyes rolled round and round.

But no matter how much she rolled them, she couldn’t find a solid pretext to refuse.

And if she was going to bluff anyway, she might as well hand over some blood and insist that, as a martial artist, she was different.

If she refused to give blood while still claiming she was ill, it would only seem suspicious; maybe this was the time to brazen it out.

“I’ll do it myself.”

Qing reached out past the mosquito net of the bed and took the small jade vial and long needle.

With a body this sturdy, if she asked him to do it for her, she’d only be making the old man waste his strength.

A short while later, Qing slid the jade vial filled with blood out past the edge of the bed.

“It’s just... since this is a problem related to vital energy and internal injury, I don’t know that anything will show up just by looking at the blood. Qi channels and blood vessels are the same, but also different......”

Qing did not forget to lay the groundwork.

If they ran the blood test and said, She’s healthy, she was going to insist that what she had suffered was an internal injury, not an illness—this was the foundation she was laying for that argument.

“As I said, this old man too must show that he is working diligently, if I am to remain attached to the inner palace.

Mm. Is the decoction still being taken by the Empress?”

He must have quickly realized, as befitted a great physician who could read a body’s state by taking the pulse, that the prescription was more a tonic than a medicinal decoction, and that the ingredients carried no poison.

“Ha ha... exactly. Take the wrong medicine and it’s a disaster, so it really is a huge relief.”

“Hmm. It cannot be helped. I shall have it boiled down double-strength and secretly send half to Lady Deokseong.

Then, take care of yourself.”

Had he noticed or not?

Either way, it wasn’t as if it didn’t matter.

If he had noticed, then what he meant was that as Imperial Physician he would pretend not to know.

If he had not, then it was simply his effort, as a physician, to pass medicine along to a patient.

Once the Imperial Physician withdrew, this time Gabiya burst energetically into the room.

“My lady!”

“Mm. I’m a bit tired today......”

Qing made a troubled face.

She had more or less grasped the perfumed-oil massage method now, but when it came to advancing into the higher courses, Gabiya was downright useless as a practice model.

Run a hand over her in a rough, cursory way and in less than a single angle of movement, she would already be twisting her body, flailing her arms and legs, completely at a loss what to do.

And that was even though perfumed-oil method was, at the end of the day, massage—never a technique that touched improper parts.

So at this point, further practice with Gabiya wasn’t helping Qing at all.

But for Gabiya, it was of enormous help to her cultivation of Classic of Love yoga.

Even that Lady Ryeongju-whatever, the head of Heavenly-Maiden Temple, had said she was surprised at such fast progress.

So Gabiya openly pestered for more perfumed-oil practice.

She was the one who couldn’t endure it, yet she would haul in tough cloth, tie her own arms and legs to the bed’s mosquito-net post, and then lie there.

Gabiya, you’re so hopeless...

Mm, if she wanted to further hone the technique, she really needed to use someone more insensitive.

Mm, wasn’t Guneong pretty dull?

Always blank, hardly any expression at all—how long could he endure, I wonder, and I want to see with my own eyes that faint expression suddenly twist and his breath turn ragged—

“That’s not it. Heehee, my lady, you said before you wanted to see a Heavenly-Maiden Temple event, remember?”

Gabiya cut off Qing’s train of thought.

It was the question Qing had raised some time ago about observing a Heavenly-Maiden Temple event.

What the hell kind of indecent thoughts am I having right now?

Qing flinched, hurriedly scattering the thought that had popped up, and turned her attention to the Heavenly-Maiden Temple event.

When Gabiya went out in the mornings to take part in a Heavenly-Maiden Temple event, there had been a fifty-fifty chance that her karmic debt number would go down.

What sort of event accumulated merit like that?

Was it some sort of volunteer work?

But what volunteer work could they possibly be doing inside the palace?

Or was it, given the nature of Classic of Love yoga, something... really risqué...?

Her curiosity only kept piling up.

“Oh, don’t tell me?”

“Yes. You’re to attend the next event as an observer. And heehee, my lady? On top of that, there’s more.”

Gabiya let out a suspicious little giggle.

Qing wondered what wonderful news she could possibly be dragging out so coyly.

“This time, His Highness the Crown Prince is also going to observe. Heehee, my lady, do you think he might be interested in our order’s secret seduction technique? We’ll just snatch His Highness’s heart—squee!”

Gabiya grabbed her own head and dropped into a crouch.

Qing had jumped in surprise.

Ah. At that horrifying line, her fist had flown out before she realized it.

“Enough. Mm. Let’s push the observing to next time.”

There was no good to be had from going out of her way to cross paths with the Crown Prince.

And judging from how things had gone so far, she had a bad feeling the Crown Prince might have already entered some kind of Yeonsul-fixation state and would start causing trouble again.

“Even if you say that, your name has already been put down for an event hosted by the Heavenly Dynasty......”

“Huh. Who gave anyone permission to just put my name—no, my name—on there? I only said I was curious, not that I definitely want to participate, you know?”

At that, Gabiya jerked upright in shock.

“No, no! You misunderstand! How could a Heavenly maiden dare hawk your name around? Lady Ryeongju only said that your given name was already included among the participants.”

So Qing’s name had already gone onto the list by the time of that conversation.

And Gabiya had tried to use that to score points with Qing: to claim I asked on your behalf so you could attend, and grab the credit for herself—that sly, impudent little attempt.

“This girl really is trying to eat me alive in little bites.”

“A Heavenly maiden does nothing but give her whole loyalty to you, my lady. Please understand my true feelings.”

Gabiya, shrunk down into a full-on cringe, watched Qing’s mood and crawled carefully.

For someone who always tried to act lethally seductive, her true nature was pure cringe, and even so she kept making sly little attempts—a cheeky little maid if there ever was one.

Still, well, it wasn’t as if Qing was really above her in rank.

And if not for Gabiya, she honestly might have died of boredom by now, no joke, so in a way you could say Gabiya was her lifesaver.

“Mm. So when is—”

“My lady!”

Qing’s words were cut off as yet another palace maid burst in.

Both of her personal maids storming into their mistress’s room like it was their own bedroom with not a hint of restraint—an astonishing sight.

Anyone else seeing it would have had a fit, but Haeryu had been barging in like this from the beginning, and Gabiya had watched that and quietly started imitating her.

“My lady, have you heard the news? Tomorrow you have to go to some suspicious gathering of those Indian barbarian bitches! Good grief, how can it be like this, those fucking bitches—oh, there’s one right here!”

“My lady, sniff, I’m always the one getting scolded. I—I only ever want to be of help to you.”

“Hey, you. Don’t you start fake-crying.”

“Sniff, you’re so cruel, really.”

Well, the two of them squabbled constantly.

Though calling it squabbling was generous—mostly it was Gabiya getting beaten black and blue, while Lady Deokseong always, without fail, took Haeryu’s side.

In any case.

That was how Qing finally heard the date of the event.

But seriously, what kind of damned event, supposedly an imperial affair, was something she only heard about the day before, and that by way of palace maids’ gossip?