Chapter Twenty-Seven
Feng Qishan gave a noncommittal hum and glanced at Feng Suige. When he had agreed to let Fu Yixiao stay in the Water-Painting Garden, he had known it wouldn’t be long before these old scholars couldn’t resist speaking up. That was why he had held back—waiting for this very moment.
Feng Suige stared coldly at the crane-shaped incense burner emitting wisps of smoke in front of the hall and said indifferently, “It seems Minister Lu is too advanced in years—his memory is failing. He may no longer be suited to serve the court. Draft your resignation today and submit it.” Minister Lu was stunned and hurriedly protested, “This old minister raised the matter again only out of concern for security. If this person is a spy planted by Brocade—”
Feng Suige cut him off with a cold laugh. “So you’re questioning Father now.” Feng Qishan raised an eyebrow. “Questioning me about what?” Feng Suige stepped forward calmly, bowed, and said, “This person was brought here by Father from the King Who Pacifies the South. Minister Lu clearly believes Father has left a foreign spy by my side.” Minister Lu immediately fell to his knees, his face ashen. “My Lord, please understand—this old minister never meant such a thing!”
Feng Qishan smiled faintly. “The Imperial Son’s jest has frightened you, Minister Lu. You’re far too timid.” At these words, the officials, who had been holding their breath, finally relaxed and began to laugh and tease in response. Minister Lu forced a smile. “The Imperial Son’s majesty is innate—this old minister could not help but tremble.”
Once the murmurs below had quieted, Feng Qishan asked, “What do you all believe is the appropriate way to handle this matter?” The civil and military officials in the hall immediately fell silent again.
Minister Lu’s face had turned green. Originally, he had privately discussed this with several censors—he would present the matter, and the others would step forward to echo his concerns. But with just one sentence from the Phoenix Prince, their courage had fled. Yet to let it go now was unbearable, leaving him trapped in a dilemma. Gritting his teeth, Minister Lu kowtowed and said, “This old minister still believes the woman should be placed under house arrest.”
“Sometimes, stubbornness is not a virtue,” Feng Suige said slowly, his tone icy. Feng Qishan frowned. “Minister Lu’s words are not entirely without merit, Suige. Do not be willful—Minister Lu, rise.” Only then did Minister Lu wipe the cold sweat from his brow and retreat to the side.
Hearing the Lord of the Nation’s implicit support, several more ministers stepped forward one after another. Though they worded their opinions carefully to avoid provoking Feng Suige, their meaning remained the same—they supported placing Fu Yixiao under solitary confinement.
Feng Suige listened in silence. He understood these ministers weren’t acting unreasonably. If it had been anyone else, he might not have objected—he might even have raised the issue himself before they did. But the person they were discussing was Yixiao, the woman whose happiness had just been shattered by his own father and sister.
And he, too, had been an accomplice.
“Father,” Feng Suige finally spoke. The surrounding clamor abruptly stilled, and all eyes—whether openly or discreetly—turned to him. After all, he was the future Lord of the Nation, their future king. “Everyone knows why Fu Yixiao was kept here. I also understand Father’s intentions. But—” He raised his head and met Feng Qishan’s gaze directly. “If Father now chooses to confine her, will you not feel ashamed?”A surge of fury rushed to Feng Qishan's head. He knew his son's thoughts had been preoccupied with Fu Yixiao lately, and he had been speculating about what reasons his son might use to oppose the house arrest. But he never expected his son to speak to him like this in front of the entire court. "For the sake of a woman, you dare speak to me like this?" His gaze was as sharp as a blade.
Feng Suige's expression remained composed as he calmly met the eyes of those in the hall—some shocked, some puzzled, some evasive, some disapproving. "Whether out of fear or not, she has already conceded—enough to reject Xiyang's proposal and stay in Su Sha. Father once taught me that in life, one must uphold integrity and righteousness, that no one can defy reason or deceive heaven. In this matter, we are the ones who have wronged her. Why can't Father let her go and instead keep pressing her relentlessly?"
"Wronged her?" Feng Qishan sneered. "Why do you think she stayed? Xia Jingshi has already married Xiyang. Even if she returned, she would at best be a concubine. What is a noble's concubine compared to being the consort of Su Sha's future Lord of the Nation? Didn’t you see how eagerly she rushed into your Water-Painting Garden the moment she left Xia Jingshi—"
"Father!" Feng Suige exclaimed in shock, hardly able to believe the venomous words coming from the father he had always respected.
Perhaps realizing his own outburst, Feng Qishan took a deep breath and softened his tone. "This is why the royal family has always chosen consorts from among noblewomen. You must understand—not everything in the world is as it seems on the surface. You may treat others with sincerity, but they may not return it in kind!"
Feng Suige's expression shifted slightly, his furrowed brow and tightly pressed lips revealing an indescribable sorrow. Seeing this, Feng Qishan felt a pang of remorse and spoke gently, "Father isn’t saying this to humiliate you in public. I just—" His words suddenly halted as he stared at Feng Suige in surprise.
Feng Suige—Feng Suige was actually smiling. The corners of his lips curled upward decisively. "Humiliating indeed. Truly... very... humiliating." With a graceful motion, he knelt, each word ringing with conviction. "Father, your son wishes to marry Fu Yixiao as his consort!"
A thunderous crash echoed through the hall as Feng Qishan, in his rage, overturned the imperial desk. The royal seal, jade tablets, and other items tumbled down the jade steps, scattering across the floor. The ministers in the court all dropped to their knees in alarm, kowtowing repeatedly. "Lord of the Nation, please calm your anger! Lord of the Nation, please calm your anger!"
Feng Qishan's jade crown was askew as he pointed furiously at Feng Suige, who remained kneeling in the center. "Dare you repeat that to me again?!" Feng Suige, however, remained composed. "Your son wishes to marry Fu Yixiao. Your son wants her to be the Imperial Son's consort of Su Sha."
Staggering, Feng Qishan hurried down the jade steps, causing the palace attendants to scramble after him in panic. "Lord of the Nation, be careful! Lord of the Nation, be careful!"
In a few strides, he reached Feng Suige and struck him hard across the face. The sharp slap left vivid red marks that deepened on Feng Suige's cheek. Yet, aside from a slight tilt of his head, Feng Suige didn’t even flinch."I am not dead yet," Feng Qishan gripped his chin, his face drawing closer as he spoke in a slow, ominous tone. "And Su Sha does not have only you as its Imperial Son." Feng Suige smiled. "But none of the others are fit to bear the responsibility, which is why Father granted me the position of Regent Imperial Son."
It was a heavy blow. Feng Qishan involuntarily released his grip and took two steps back. After a long pause, he gritted his teeth in unwillingness and said, "You insist on having her? She is merely a Brocade woman with no status or standing—unworthy of being an Imperial Consort."
Feng Suige lowered his gaze and replied calmly, "Everyone has their own constraints, but what truly elevates a person is the heart." "Fine," Feng Qishan laughed in extreme anger. "She is noble... I will give you a choice. Will you take the position of Regent Imperial Son, or will you take her?"
From among the silently assembled ministers, an elderly white-haired official suddenly rushed forward—Feng Suige's former tutor, the current Grand Secretary and Imperial Chancellor. Trembling, he prostrated himself on the ground and pleaded sorrowfully, "Lord of the Nation, please calm your anger. The Imperial Son has always been stubborn since childhood. His defiance was merely a moment of heated emotion. I beg you to restrain your wrath."
Feng Qishan's expression softened slightly as he let out a cold snort. With a flick of his sleeve, he turned and ascended the jade steps toward the Dragon Throne.
Seeing this, the Grand Secretary quietly crawled closer and whispered to Feng Suige, "The Lord of the Nation is furious, and so many officials are watching. Speak reasonably—do not be so willful. First, apologize to the Lord of the Nation, and we can discuss matters slowly..."
Feng Suige also regained some composure and replied in a low, ashamed voice, "Suige acted rashly and worried my tutor." He then knelt and kowtowed toward Feng Qishan. "Your son spoke out of turn in his haste. I beg Father's forgiveness."
Feng Qishan paced a few steps at the top of the stairs before waving his hand in agitation. "Enough. But this matter is not over. The Imperial Chancellor and the Imperial Son will remain. The rest of you may withdraw."
The attending eunuch swallowed hard before announcing loudly, "Court dismissed—"
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