87 Pillow Talk (1/2)
Chapter 87: Pillow Talk
Translator: Nyoi-Bo StudioEditor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Fan Jian frowned, putting down the bowl of stewed fruits he was holding; it seemed that it was warm enough to have burned his hand. ”I am not speaking on behalf of Lady Liu. While person she found seemed to follow her command, they were acting under the orders of the palace. Lady Liu is merely a scapegoat in this matter.”
”Who in the palace wants me dead?” asked Fan Xian, frowning. ”Why do they want me dead? Could it be that they know that I am the son of the Ye family?”
”Of course they don't know that!” For some reason, Count Sinan had become unusually agitated. His right hand gripped the armrest of the chair. ”Of those who know about this, no one wishes to harm you. If there were someone who wanted to harm you, that would not be the reason why.”
”You mean to say that there has never been anyone in the entire capital who knows about the relationship between my mother and my father? If those people know about that relationship, then why would no one suspect that a bastard son is the child of the Ye family?”
Fan Xian was filled with doubt as he pondered this question. He felt his blood run cold. After having found all this out, it seemed that there were more important questions, but he didn’t them. ”So then why?” he asked quietly. ”Four years ago, I was a twelve-year-old boy, living far away in Danzhou, and I had no connection to anything going on in the capital.”
”Four years ago was also when His Majesty accepted Miss Lin as his adopted daughter, and when she was betrothed to be married. At the time, His Majesty decided that you would be the one to handle royal business, and it then that you were first mentioned at the court. Seeing a twelve-year-old boy being put in charge of such a direct source of wealth, what do you think the nobles and the palace might choose?”
”They'd choose to do away with me as neatly as possible.”
”The Overwatch Council had already found out four years ago, but unfortunately they had no proof, so there was nothing that they could do about them.”
Fan Xian laughed. ”Even if they had proof, perhaps the reason they did nothing was because the Overwatch Council were bureaucrats, and those people were nobles.”
Fan Jian nodded.
”Who is it who wants to kill me?”
”The empress dowager and the eldest princess,” Count Sinan answered with a smile. ”But since you already survived to adulthood and came to the capital, I believe it has given them courage again. They also cannot risk the Emperor's wrath by moving against you.”
”You're too optimistic,” Fan Xian said sorrowfully. ”Even if they killed me, how could the Emperor even do anything to his wife and his little sister?”
Fan Jian did not respond, instead changing the subject. ”Recently, it's been obvious that Crown Prince Jing has wanted to get closer to you, and you must also think of a way to meet with the Second Prince. Tread lightly when doing that.
Fan Xian agreed. He knew that every great house in the capital, actively or passively, had to take a clear stand on this issue. Princes fought over the right to inherit the realm. Although one seemingly had a number of cheap tricks, whether it was in this world or the previous world, the story was always the same: Once the curtains were raised, the actors would all make their appearance on the stage, and their weapons were either their blades or their words. They played their part for others to see, and for themselves - if Fan Manor wished to remain impartial, and close to the Emperor, it would have to make great efforts to do so.
Late that night, Count Sinan sat alone on the imperial tutor's chair, eating his now-cold stewed fruit and thinking on what Fan Xian had said. He thought of the painful price that he himself had once paid, and the corner of his mouth twitched. He thought of the terrifying bloody scenes that occurred in that month of violence. On that dark and secret night, the Empress Dowager's father had trembled at the point of his blade, and he had beheaded him himself. The head had rolled across the floor. Seemingly recalling the sound that it had made, Count Sinan's mouth turned to a gentle smile.
Over the next few days, Fan Xian was at ease, enjoying his status as the eldest son in the manor. Occasionally he would slip away to Dongchuan Road to see how far the bookstore had come with its preparations. And the bookseller, also named Ye, had gradually warmed to him, doing everything that he said, and so Mr. Cui, the family advisor, had returned to Count Sinan's side. And every other evening, Fan Xian would slip away to the courtyard of the imperial palace, climbing over the wall on his familiar path. But now, the window was no longer closed, and the chicken-leg girl was always quietly waiting for him.
He did not go there because he was driven by romantic passion, but because Lin Wan'er's illness would not let her go any further. The palace men were blockheads, but thankfully, after the imperial physicians had received a number of bribes from Count Sinan's estate, they were eventually willing to admit that giving the princess a little bit of meat or fish would be beneficial to her health.
Fan Xian often went there to bring her food and the pills that he had made himself. He feared that the medicine he gave her might clash with what the imperial doctors prescribed her, so he made sure only to use the gentlest ingredients. He also bought her a lot of fine food to satisfy her day-long hunger. As the days passed, Lin Wan'er's health clearly got better. Her cheeks were much rosier, but not with the redness that her ill-health had caused her before. And her figure filled out, with her cheeks becoming much rounder.
Lin Wan'er was a bit concerned by this, but Fan Xian was happy. After they were married, he would prefer to be with a woman with fertile curves.