Chapter 252: The Grand Finale (Part 2)

When Cheng Zhao’s son reached his first-month celebration, no news of victory had yet arrived from Qinzhou. But good news came from Prince Jingnan’s residence: Prince Jingnan had ambushed and captured two rebel princes alive.

It turned out that the whole thing had been a ruse.

For a time, the entire capital was filled with excitement. With a victory secured, there was hope that the war might soon end. At last, everyone could see a way forward.

The Emperor was delighted as well and rewarded the Zhang family.

The families of the Zhang household’s two young madams sent them back once more.

Princess Consort Jingnan ought to have put on airs and refused to let them enter. But remembering that both women had children, she magnanimously chose not to hold their past against them.

As a result, Princess Consort Jingnan earned a reputation for being broad-minded.

By contrast, Cheng Ying was showered with praise for her righteousness.

“...I still think she’s been wronged,” Second Madam said to Cheng Zhao again. “She’s so beautiful, and so loyal. Yet she’ll still have to remain in the Zhang family’s inner household from now on. No one will forget what Zhang Yunqi did back then.”

“Mother, my third sister has a mind of her own. It isn’t our place to say anything about her affairs,” Cheng Zhao replied.

Second Madam still felt that Cheng Ying was wasting her life.

Another year passed.

It was a year filled with constant reports from the front. The great households tightened their belts, the smaller ones went hungry, and ordinary people were forced to sell their children.

The Zhou family ate one meal of dry rice and one meal of thin gruel each day.

Only the wet nurse and the children were allowed to eat their fill.

Everyone else, Cheng Zhao included, lived frugally. There was no alternative. The war had destroyed the farmland, and even those with money could not buy grain.

The Zhou family’s storehouses held plenty of provisions, but Cheng Zhao had to prepare not only for relatives who might come seeking grain, but also for the possibility that the war would drag on.

Many things had to be planned for in advance.

Second Madam had always been very supportive of her.

Zhou Yuanqi grew older by the day as well. With no one left at the clan school and the academies closed, he had no choice but to shut himself away and study alone.

In addition to reading, he practiced spearwork with his mother every day. He trained to keep himself strong—and to protect his mother and sister-in-law.

He had shot up in height that year. At a glance, he already looked like a grown boy.

In his second year stationed far away in Qinzhou, Zhou Yuanshen was already considering an assassination attempt on Helian Xuan. Helian Xuan, however, was highly wary of him, and the plan might well have ended with Zhou Yuanshen walking into a trap.

In the end, it was Cheng Chao who severely wounded Helian Xuan.

Several times, Helian Xuan’s spies sent people to approach Cheng Chao, hoping to persuade him to change sides.

“You and Cheng Zhao are twins, both children of the Commandery Princess Zhaoyang and the Emperor. The Cheng family of Wu Commandery is immensely powerful, and its servants are fiercely loyal. Yet all these secrets were kept hidden.

“The Cheng family’s First Madam once lost a child. You happened to fill that vacancy. Your younger sister was born undersized, so her wet nurse secretly raised her until she was a year old. The Cheng family’s scheme of replacing one child with another was passed off as the First Madam having given birth to her herself.”

That was what the spy sent to recruit Cheng Chao told him.

Cheng Chao seemed stunned.

After half a year of secret contact, Cheng Chao decided to meet Helian Xuan.

Helian Xuan was on his guard when they met, but he never expected Cheng Chao to be prepared to die. Cheng Chao suddenly wrapped his arms around him and leaped down the mountainside, intending for them both to perish.

He did not even have time to deliver a few stirring words about laying down his life for righteousness.

His actions alone made his meaning clear: he had never cared whose blood ran through his veins. No son of the Cheng family was a coward.

Helian Xuan had sparked the war. His rebellion had inspired rebels in other provinces to follow suit, throwing the entire realm into chaos.

Countless innocent people had died in the fighting.

As long as Helian Xuan died, Cheng Chao would have gained something. His own life was worth little.

The mountain was not especially high, and neither man died. Cheng Chao broke one leg and several bones, but none of his injuries were fatal.

Helian Xuan, however, was badly wounded.

Cheng Chao had broken his fall. Helian Xuan’s spine was shattered, and he might be paralyzed for the rest of his life.

His grand ambitions were destroyed in an instant. He had become a cripple, something he found more terrifying than death itself. With him so seriously injured, the rebel army’s morale plummeted, and suppressing the rebellion became much easier.

When Cheng Zhao’s son turned two, she received a secret report from Qinzhou: after three months of effort, Zhou Yuanshen had finally captured Helian Xuan.

The war might be over in another two months.

Cheng Zhao was ecstatic.

She was just about to send a reply when someone quietly arrived at the Chen State Duke’s residence.

Cheng Zhao never could have imagined that the next time she saw Xian Si would be under such circumstances.

It was the eleventh month of winter, with the cold biting to the bone. Xian Si, who was a Jieyu, had fled the palace. Cheng Zhao was so stunned that she stood frozen in place.

“The Emperor died suddenly. He was found dead in Lijing Palace. Consort Wu sent someone to escort me out of the palace. Now, no one knows who will succeed him or what the situation will become. You are the only person we could think of,” Xian Si said.

Cheng Zhao’s heart turned cold.

All her earlier excitement vanished.

The Emperor was dead.

He had died at the very moment when victory in the campaign to suppress the rebellion was close at hand.

His death would deal a tremendous blow to the army’s morale. The generals fighting the rebels would likely be left at a loss as well.

The Emperor had no adult sons left. Of the two sons still alive, one was seven and the other five. Both were mere children.

Their mothers were both of humble birth, each having been made a Jieyu only because she had borne a son.

The court relied on the great clans and aristocratic families.

What would happen from this point on? Who could say whom they should support?

As a Jieyu, Xian Si had been placed in the palace by Zhou Yuanshen, as had Consort Wu. The two women had to make plans not only for themselves, but also on Zhou Yuanshen’s behalf.

That was why she had risked coming to see Cheng Zhao.

“Return to the palace first, Your Ladyship. Don’t alert anyone. I’ll go tell my grandfather at once,” Cheng Zhao said.

Xian Si nodded and urged her repeatedly, “Quickly. Every moment we can buy matters. Eunuch Sheng is waiting to assist us in the palace.”

Cheng Zhao agreed.

After Xian Si left, Cheng Zhao entrusted her child to her mother-in-law. Taking Suyue and Qiubai with her, she followed a back route to avoid the patrols enforcing the curfew and went to the Cheng family residence.

She knocked on the door late at night, frightening her parents half to death.

When they learned what had happened, their expressions grew even graver, and it took them a long while to recover.

“Tell Grandfather to enter the palace immediately! He must join forces with Prince Rong and Grand Preceptor Guo to stabilize the situation,” Cheng Zhao said.

Prince Rong and Grand Preceptor Guo had to be guarded against. But first, the situation had to be stabilized and the heir apparent placed upon the throne.

Whoever supported the heir apparent’s accession would be the one who controlled him.

The night was bitterly cold. Cheng Zhao’s father immediately went knocking at his grandfather’s door. Her grandfather then took her father with him to the palace gates.

Eunuch Sheng was there to receive them.

The Cheng family’s chief steward went to inform Prince Rong and Grand Preceptor Guo.

Prince Rong was a prince of the blood, while Grand Preceptor Guo was the father of Empress Guo. Both had positions and influence, but neither had the means to act independently. They could only follow Cheng Zhao’s grandfather’s instructions.

When the funeral bells rang one hundred and eight times, they awakened the entire city of Shengjing.

The former Emperor had passed away, and the seven-year-old heir ascended the throne.

Every lantern and celebratory couplet outside the Chen State Duke’s residence was removed and replaced with white mourning cloth.

Cheng Zhao gave a bitter laugh. “If Helian Xuan hadn’t tried to recruit Cheng Chao, and had held out for a few more months, he might have turned the tables by now.”

With the former Emperor dead, Zhou Yuanshen’s army would suffer a decline in morale. Helian Xuan’s side, on the other hand, had been on the verge of victory. He might even have reached the capital.

Even if he could not conquer it, he would have had many more supporters for establishing a rival court.

He simply had not been blessed with that fate.

The former Emperor’s funeral and the new Emperor’s accession were handled entirely by Cheng Zhao’s grandfather, her father, and Prince Rong. Grand Preceptor Guo was somewhat overwhelmed by the responsibility.

That day, the price of rice in Shengjing doubled, and the people became increasingly uneasy.

It was in the third year, in the third month, that Zhou Yuanshen finally crushed Helian Xuan’s rebel army.

He returned to court with his troops.

After presenting the captured rebels and returning to his residence, he found Cheng Zhao waiting at the gate with his mother, Zhou Yuanqi, and their two-and-a-half-year-old child.

This time, Cheng Zhao did not cry.

She had endured too much. All she felt was that being alive was itself a blessing.

“Jing’an, call your father,” Cheng Zhao said as she held their child.

The child seemed to have been born with an instinctive affection for him. He called out warmly, “Father.”

His words were perfectly clear.

Zhou Yuanshen had always kept his emotions tightly controlled, but now his eyes were red. He gave a muffled reply, unable to say anything more.

“You’re not even as quick-witted as a child,” Second Madam said.

As she spoke, tears spilled down her own cheeks as well.

The whole family was reunited, and the entire household enjoyed a hearty meal together. Afterward, Cheng Zhao and Zhou Yuanshen returned to Chengming Hall, while the child remained at Jiangyun Courtyard.

After being reunited, husband and wife barely slept that night. The spring weather was warm, and Cheng Zhao was drenched in sweat. She took three baths in succession.

“So your grandfather is now regent, with Prince Rong and Grand Preceptor Guo assisting him?” Zhou Yuanshen asked.

Cheng Zhao nodded. “Yes.”

“I never would have imagined that the late emperor would meet his end like that. What illness did he have?”

“He was always half-mad. Perhaps he had a little of every illness,” Cheng Zhao said. “Fortunately, the two Dowager Consorts Wu reacted quickly, allowing us to seize the initiative.”

“The two Dowager Consorts Wu?”

“Xian Si said she couldn’t remember her family surname, so Consort Wu told her to take the Wu surname. All the ladies of the imperial palace moved to the imperial mausoleum to mourn. Only Dowager Empress Guo and the two Dowager Consorts Wu, who had rendered meritorious service, remained behind,” Cheng Zhao explained.

Zhou Yuanshen nodded. “The two of them were indeed perceptive.”

“Yuanshen, what do we do from here?” Cheng Zhao asked.

“I heard about your family’s secret while I was in Qinzhou.”

Cheng Zhao knew what he meant.

“Cheng Chao and I are both descendants of the Cheng clan of Wu Commandery,” Cheng Zhao said. “As for everything else, it was all a misunderstanding.”

Whatever grudges there had been in the past were matters between the adults. Cheng Zhao had a clan, parents, and biological brothers and sisters.

That was her life.

She had already made her choice, and she would never change it.

“Fourth Brother...”

“He doesn’t want to become emperor, and he isn’t suited to be emperor,” Cheng Zhao said firmly.

She was certain that Cheng Chao had made the same choice as she had. Otherwise, he would never have tried to die together with Helian Xuan.

Zhou Yuanshen pulled her tightly into his arms.

Zhou Yuanshen rendered great service in quelling the rebellion in Qinzhou. He was subsequently appointed Grand Marshal of the Armies, placed in command of all the empire’s military forces.

By the time all the rebels had submitted, and even the small kingdoms in the southwest had surrendered, more than three years had passed. Cheng Zhao’s son was nearly six years old.

During those three-plus years, Zhou Yuanshen was hardly ever home.

Cheng Zhao and he kept in touch through regular letters.

Six years had passed since Helian Xuan’s rebellion began, and many things had happened during that time.

Cheng Zhao’s father-in-law had been wounded on the battlefield and returned to the capital to recuperate.

Her mother-in-law could only sigh and say, “At least he came back alive.”

His right leg had been permanently injured, leaving him with a limp.

Both her parents-in-law took it in stride. They said that preserving his life was what mattered most, and a bad leg was nothing. At their age, aches and injuries were inevitable.

Cheng Zhao continued to manage the entire household.

There had been tragedies as well. The Fan family’s general—the younger brother of Cheng Zhao’s mother-in-law—had died in battle. His wife fainted from grief when she heard the news.

Cheng Zhao’s mother-in-law accompanied her and shed many tears of her own.

The Grand Lady stepped forward to take charge, and the Fan household remained orderly. Fan Xiao shouldered the burden of the entire family and often looked after the Duke of Chen’s residence as well.

“Yuanshen and Yuanjin are both on the battlefield,” Second Madam sometimes told Cheng Zhao. “I wish I could go too.”

Cheng Zhao comforted her. “Mother, what would become of us if you went? Father still needs someone to care for him, and his leg makes it difficult for him to move around.”

“...It’s giving me such a headache,” Second Madam said. “When will peace finally come?”

Cheng Zhao did not know either.

She could only change the subject, mentioning that Jing’an would turn six in another two months.

That was a major occasion.

“Yuanqi has prepared quite a few birthday gifts for him,” Cheng Zhao told her mother-in-law with a smile.

Second Madam said, “As his uncle, he ought to put in more effort. If there were no war, Yuanqi should be discussing marriage by now.”

Zhou Yuanqi was fifteen years old and very tall, though thin.

Cheng Zhao did not know whether he was naturally slender or whether all the food he ate had gone toward making him taller. He looked like a stalk of bamboo—long, narrow, and fragile.

“If there had been no war, perhaps he wouldn’t be so thin,” Cheng Zhao said.

Second Madam replied, “You’ve watched him grow up, so you’re even more worried about him than I am. But don’t spoil him. What’s wrong with being thin while he’s growing?”

Cheng Zhao laughed.

“So many people have starved to death in these years,” Second Madam added.

Cheng Zhao’s smile faded.

Her heart sank at once.

Seeing that she had said the wrong thing, Second Madam took Cheng Zhao’s hand. “Things will get better.”

Cheng Zhao squeezed her hand in return. “Yes, they will, Mother!”

She felt incredibly fortunate.

Cheng Zhao had never asked her own mother about the truth of her birth. She did not care, because she had two mothers.

Second Madam treated her as if she were her own daughter.

Not long after the mother and daughter-in-law finished speaking, news arrived that the entire realm had surrendered.

Second Madam was overjoyed.

“After another three years of recovery, if Heaven is kind, the granaries should be full again,” she said.

Cheng Zhao echoed her wish, though she was not optimistic at heart.

The rebellions had ended, but what of the government? At present, Cheng Zhao’s grandfather was holding the entire imperial court together, with Prince Rong assisting him.

The young emperor disliked studying and had no interest in state affairs.

He had never been aware that he was a monarch. Whenever he attended court, he acted as though he were going to school.

Cheng Zhao waited for Zhou Yuanshen to return.

That winter, Zhou Yuanshen came home in triumph.

This time, Cheng Zhao and the child went to the city gates to watch him present the captives. Seated upright atop his tall horse, he looked imposing and majestic.

“Mother, that’s Father,” Zhou Jing’an said.

Cheng Zhao nodded.

Suddenly, she remembered the beginning of their arranged marriage, when her second brother had taken her to a teahouse to look at Zhou Yuanshen.

He had been even more handsome and dashing back then.

At the time, she had thought, “This man is my husband.”

Her tone had been very similar to Zhou Jing’an’s now: perfectly satisfied.

Mother and son returned home first.

Zhou Yuanshen came back rather late this time because he had been granted a banquet at the palace.

He drank very little, and the banquet ended quickly, according to his wishes.

Cheng Zhao, her parents-in-law, Zhou Yuanqi, and the child were waiting for him at the entrance.

His eyes went first to Cheng Zhao and remained fixed on her for a long while before he finally forced himself to look away. Then he looked at his mother, his father’s injured leg, the child, and Zhou Yuanqi.

“Come inside quickly,” Second Madam said. “Yuanshen, you’ve returned safely once again.”

“Yes.”

As he crossed the threshold, he took Cheng Zhao’s hand without the slightest concern for the others watching.

Cheng Zhao had cared deeply about propriety since childhood. Over the years, she had held the entire household together and considered herself extraordinarily strong.

Yet before she had even stepped over the threshold, tears were already rolling down her cheeks.

His hand was so warm in the bitter cold of winter.

The following April, Zhou Yuanshen ascended the throne.

It was the request of the court officials.

Cheng Zhao’s grandfather had been acting as regent, placing a distance between the officials and the young emperor. None of them had developed any true bond of loyalty with him. The young emperor had been neglected since childhood and did not even realize that he was a ruler. Every time he attended court, he behaved as though he were going to school.

Zhou Yuanshen’s prestige had shaken the empire. It was only a matter of time before he replaced the young emperor.

The unrest had continued for six years. The great clans had been worn to exhaustion, as had the court officials.

They longed for peace.

Those who opposed Zhou Yuanshen’s accession would merely prolong the chaos for several more years.

Everyone acted for their own interests.

After six years, those who had intended to profit from the turmoil had already filled their coffers. Those who had gained nothing were unwilling to let anyone else profit further.

The young emperor abdicated, Zhou Yuanshen ascended the throne, and the dynasty changed hands.

Cheng Zhao was made Empress, and Zhou Jing’an was made Crown Prince. The Second Master and Second Madam were granted the titles of Retired Emperor and Empress Dowager. Zhou Yuanqi was made Prince Yong, while Zhou Yuanjin, who was still stationed at the frontier, was made Prince Zhong.

Dowager Empress Guo, who had remained in the palace from the former dynasty, was moved elsewhere. This was arranged through discussions between the court officials and Grand Preceptor Guo.

The two Dowager Consorts Wu had rendered great service, so Zhou Yuanshen specially had a magnificent temple built for them. He also bestowed generous gifts of land upon them, providing for the two women as they cultivated themselves in religious seclusion while retaining their hair.

“I only want to be a dowager of leisure,” Cheng Zhao told Zhou Yuanshen.

“Are you afraid?” Zhou Yuanshen asked her.

“Not at all!” Cheng Zhao replied.

What she had wanted might not have come to her, but Heaven had given her something even better in compensation.

She had gained so much.

She would make an excellent dowager of leisure. As empress—or even as empress dowager—she would only be better. Cheng Zhao had that confidence.