Chapter 98 – Rebirth: The Poisonous Concubine (39)
Returning to the Yu residence meant another round of “You’ve lost weight and gotten tanned” concerns. Bai Mo, who spent his days loosening soil and pulling weeds, had gotten noticeably darker. Madam Yu immediately instructed the kitchen to prepare extra meat dishes.
For the first time, Bai Mo realized that eating meat could be such a painful experience. He swore never to complain about the bland food in the military camp again.
Meanwhile, the little snow ferret was also stuffed with meat daily, leaving him constantly bloated. He spent his time lounging in the courtyard, cradling the little baby girl.
Compared to He Yuning, who had been over three years old when they met, this infant was much more entertaining. She giggled at people, blew little milk bubbles, and was incredibly soft—so soft that holding her felt like she had no bones at all.
He was terrified of dropping or injuring her, but with Xiao Bobao around, there was nothing to fear. After all, the system was all-powerful, even when it came to childcare. It had plenty of parenting manuals at its disposal.
As for Yu Chenyi, after spending the first two days at home accompanying his parents, he practically disappeared. For several days in a row, he was like a dragon whose head could be seen but not its tail. Bai Mo only caught glimpses of him before bed, and even then, most nights he returned in the middle of the night, only to leave again before dawn.
But Bai Mo didn’t mind. He preferred handling things in a direct and straightforward way—if a fight couldn’t solve a problem, then two fights should do the trick. The political scheming of the imperial court was neither something he enjoyed nor something he was good at. He left it all to his dear husband to handle. As for himself? He was perfectly happy spending time playing with the little human cub.
…
The Capital
The emperor had suddenly fallen gravely ill, skipping morning court altogether. Despite Bai Mo’s presence, the plot didn’t seem to have changed much. During his recuperation, the emperor entrusted the Third Prince, Lan Gaoyi, with the task of governing the country. He also assigned various responsibilities to the other princes.
Thus, after being confined for a year due to illness, Lan Gaoyi finally returned to the political stage. Though he appeared gaunt and frail, barely able to stand, his governing abilities were undeniable. Moreover, with the Prime Minister on his side, the court had reached an eerie state of equilibrium. All factions seemed to be waiting for something, though what exactly, only they knew.
Finally, news arrived from the northwest—the assassins had succeeded.
Yu Chenyi and Bai Mo were dead.
On the way home with their coffins, Bai Zhu was ambushed and captured.
The Prime Minister was overjoyed.
After waiting so long, his patience had finally paid off. At last, he had received the news he had been longing for.
“Pass the word inside—give him a heavy dose of the drug.” The Prime Minister instructed his trusted aide smugly.
With Bai Zhu wounded and Yu Chenyi dead, there was no one left to save the emperor. His time had come. Once the emperor passed the throne to the Third Prince, the Prime Minister would ensure that the “devoted and filial” prince would not be able to bear the grief of his father’s death and would soon follow him to the afterlife.
That way, the father and son of the Lan family could continue their “loving” relationship underground.
The trusted aide nodded and left for the palace. Under the cover of darkness, his face was difficult to make out. Once inside, he headed straight for the imperial kitchen and added something “special” to the emperor’s medicinal meal.
Had the Third Prince been present, he would have immediately recognized the man as his own confidant.
Unfortunately, even the emperor’s personal attendants now knew that the Third Prince was their sovereign’s chosen successor. The emperor had lowered his guard against his son’s men.
The aide personally delivered the medicine to Qiankun Palace, where the emperor resided. The chief eunuch took over and carried it inside. As per protocol, the medicine was tested with a silver needle and tasted by a eunuch. Seeing no reaction, the bowl was finally presented to the emperor.
Since all the tests showed nothing amiss, the emperor did not suspect anything. His illness was indeed severe. One day, he had simply woken up unable to get out of bed. Left with no choice, he had distributed power among his sons, forcing them to restrain one another. So far, this strategy had maintained a delicate balance, but he could sense that the peace wouldn’t last much longer.
And this time, he had a feeling he wouldn’t recover.
Regardless of which son seized the throne, the royal bloodline would remain the same. Thus, the emperor had never been particularly biased toward any of them.
However, after personally witnessing Lan Gaoyi engaging in improper relations with a young eunuch—and then falling into a temporary bout of dementia shortly afterward—the Third Prince was no longer his first choice for the throne.
It was then that the emperor turned his attention to his other sons and realized they, too, had their strengths. Even his youngest grandson was no fool—merely hiding his brilliance.
With this in mind, he no longer cared if Lan Gaoyi became crown prince. Anyone would do, as long as the Prime Minister’s treacherous ambitions didn’t result in a rebellion after his death.
“Your Majesty, the medicine will get cold. It must be taken while it’s still hot for the best effect,” the chief eunuch reminded him.
He genuinely hoped the emperor would recover.
After all, a new emperor meant a complete turnover in court officials and attendants. If a new ruler ascended, his position as the chief eunuch would be lost.
The emperor, determined to bring down the Prime Minister before his death, naturally followed medical advice and drank the medicine.
After all, the Imperial Academy of Medicine was still loyal to him.
However, the moment he swallowed the last drop, even before setting the bowl down, he felt a surge of blood rise up his throat.
He coughed violently—a mouthful of thick, black blood splattering the floor.
Poison.
The emperor had been poisoned!
The chief eunuch’s first reaction was immediate—he urgently ordered someone to summon the imperial physicians.
Outside, the Prime Minister’s spy waited patiently. As soon as he saw the people of Qiankun Palace rushing out in panic, he let out a smile.
Then, pretending to be frantic, he ran toward the harem, shouting at the top of his lungs that the emperor had been poisoned.
Upon hearing the news, the concubines whose sons were competing for the throne froze for a moment.
Their expressions quickly turned to worried concern as they hastily dressed, allowing their maids to support them as they rushed toward Qiankun Palace to show their loyalty.
It wasn’t that they were genuinely concerned about the emperor’s life—their real fear was that the heir named in his imperial edict would not be their son.
The strongest contender was the Third Prince.
At one point, his period of madness had caused him to lose his advantage. But with the Prime Minister backing him, he had regained a foothold.
Moreover, the Prime Minister’s late legitimate daughter had borne the Third Prince a son, strengthening their alliance.
Even if someone wanted to drive a wedge between them, there was no opportunity to do so.
The emperor had only been poisoned—he wasn’t dead yet. Yet, the concubines wept as if he had already passed, filling the palace with ill omens.
The commotion soon alerted the Empress Dowager. Despite her frail health, she personally took charge, ordering all unrelated personnel to be removed and issuing a decree to close the nine palace gates.
Only after giving out a series of orders did she finally have a chance to sit down and catch her breath.
But before she could even take a sip of tea, news arrived—the emperor had vomited a massive amount of blood.
The medicine had failed.
He had died.
Crash!
The teacup shattered upon hitting the floor. The Empress Dowager stared in disbelief at the chief imperial physician who had come to report. Her son was dead.
She had once considered pushing for the Third Prince’s ascension, but only after the emperor’s natural death.
Now, she was forced to watch her own child—the son she had carried for ten months—die before her.
How could she possibly accept this?
“Your Majesty, please restrain your grief.”
A senior maid held the Empress Dowager upright as her strength drained from her body.
“The palace still needs you to take charge… If you collapse as well, we will all be doomed.”
…
Meanwhile, the Prime Minister’s spies spread the news far and wide. Like snowflakes drifting in the wind, the word of the emperor’s death spread everywhere. By the time dawn broke, all of the imperial capital knew—the emperor had passed away.
The common people did not concern themselves with how the emperor had died or who the next emperor would be. They only knew one thing—the imperial palace was in chaos, and a battle could break out at any moment. To avoid being caught in the crossfire, many sought to flee the city, heading for the countryside or the outskirts to take refuge.
However, since the emperor had died from poisoning and the culprit had not yet been caught, it was highly possible that the assassin had already escaped the palace and was hiding among the commoners. Thus, the city gates were sealed. No one was allowed to leave—only to enter.
…
When Yu Chenyi and Bai Zhu arrived with their troops at the outskirts of the imperial capital, the inner city had already fallen under the Prime Minister’s control.
Several princes had been defeated—some killed, others gravely injured. In the distance, the sound of horns could be heard.
Yu Chenyi immediately understood—the Prime Minister was inside the palace, holding the toothless infant prince in his arms, preparing to place him on the throne while he ruled as regent.
“Chenyi, you take the troops through the secret passage into the palace. I’ll lead my men to the Prime Minister’s residence,” Bai Zhu instructed.
According to their plan, they would split up. If they couldn’t stop the Prime Minister directly, then they would control his family instead.
“The Prime Minister is arrogant. He won’t relocate his family,” Yu Chenyi analyzed coldly, his expression devoid of emotion.
He no longer resembled the gentle young nobleman he once appeared to be.
“His residence will be heavily guarded.”
“I understand.”
…
Inside the imperial palace’s grand hall, the Prime Minister had gathered the court officials and forced them to watch as he ascended the throne, cradling the infant prince.
Suddenly, a eunuch stepped forward, his voice trembling with outrage. He accused the Prime Minister of treason, claiming that the infant was not actually the Third Prince’s son but rather the Prime Minister’s own youngest child, whom he had secretly swapped.
“I saw it all with my own eyes,” the eunuch declared.
The hall erupted into shocked murmurs. However, their outrage meant nothing—inside and outside, the palace was filled with the Prime Minister’s men. To oppose him was to throw away one’s life.
The Prime Minister’s expression darkened as he turned his gaze toward the accuser. He recognized him—a eunuch from Jingyang Palace.
“Nonsense! Drag him out and beat him to death,” he ordered mercilessly.
No one could stand in the way of his grand ambition. Anyone who did—would die.
Perhaps out of fear or unwavering loyalty, the eunuch continued cursing fiercely as he was dragged away. His voice was filled with rage and bitter resentment, his words sharp and venomous.
The Prime Minister’s expression remained cold, and no one dared to interrupt the silence that followed.
Outside, the sounds of clubs striking flesh and muffled cries gradually faded into nothingness. Only then did the Prime Minister nod, signaling for the imperial decree to be read.
“By the Mandate of Heaven, His Majesty’s edict states…”
The decree eunuch’s voice trembled, yet he continued reading smoothly. Just as the Prime Minister was about to take the imperial seal and place the baby onto the dragon throne, a sudden clamor of battle erupted outside.
A guard rushed in, his voice urgent—
“Your Excellency! Yu Chenyi has broken through the defenses with his elite troops!”
The court officials were visibly stirred—Yu Chenyi, the son of Censor Yu, truly lived up to his lineage as the descendant of a loyal minister. Even though Censor Yu had resigned from office, his son still remained devoted to the emperor.
Although the officials had aligned themselves with different princes, it ultimately made little difference who took the throne. If one of the princes ascended the throne—even if it wasn’t the one they supported—they would likely remain safe.
However, if the Prime Minister seized power, nearly half of the officials present would face brutal retribution—entire families would be executed. It was far better for any prince to claim the throne than for the Prime Minister to usurp it.
But then—was there even a prince left in the Lan royal family who had not been slain by the Prime Minister?
At this thought, the hope that had just flickered to life in their hearts was instantly extinguished.
…
The Prime Minister, however, showed no concern. Seated on the dragon throne with his son in his arms, he patiently awaited news of his victory.
A mere few thousand elite soldiers—what could they possibly do against him?
Inside the grand hall, no one dared to move. The officials shifted uncomfortably—first standing on their left foot, then switching to their right when it went numb. They repeated this process, shifting their weight back and forth, waiting anxiously for news from outside.
At last, someone arrived to report.
But to their shock, it was not a palace guard. Instead, it was Yu Chenyi himself, clad in armor, with the young imperial grandson standing at his side.
At that moment, the officials’ eyes lit up. Yes! There was still the young imperial grandson!
The heavens had not forsaken the Lan royal family. Upon seeing the child, the surviving members of the royal clan could hardly contain their joy.
The sight of the boy instantly reminded them of the late Crown Prince. His presence, his bearing—it was every bit as commanding as his father’s.