Meng Qi bit on her brush handle, looking at the relationship chart she had drawn on the paper.
She re-examined everything she had heard from the female historian today alongside her memories from her past life, and found that they basically matched up.
Moreover, Prince Rui's women had not changed at all in her memories. That is to say, right up until she lay paralyzed and immobile in her past life, it had always been precisely these few.
In truth, Prince Rui was an extremely self-disciplined man. Compared to the other princes, he had very few women, and not a single one of them had been taken in at his own initiative.
He was also indifferent to marital matters, as if merely fulfilling basic needs was enough. Back then, she had never once heard of Prince Rui spending any significant length of time in any of the courtyards; managing to stay for even a single night would cause those women to come and flaunt it before her the very next day.
Meng Qi let out a cold snort. In her past life, she had not cared for Prince Rui to come to her rooms at all; she had even detested facing him. After a few times, Prince Rui had sensitively sensed her coolness toward him. Perhaps combined with the affair between herself and Hong Zhe, Prince Rui had simply stopped coming to her courtyard altogether.
This had allowed the people in the manor to catch the scent of her disfavor. The servants who had initially adopted a wait-and-see attitude when she married in began to take sides in less than a few months. She remembered that the most people had stood behind Minor Lady Lin.
Yet in her past life, she had cared nothing for any of this; she had not even had the slightest interest in taking over the management of the Prince's Manor's household affairs. She had let Mrs. Li and Minor Lady Lin hold the lion's share of control—especially Minor Lady Lin, who later even wanted to seize the inner courtyard's personnel transfers and financial transactions. It was only because Nanny Hai held her ground firmly that Minor Lady Lin failed to snatch them away, and the two of them had constantly vied with each other over this.
How laughable, Meng Qi thought, rubbing her temples. Did she even have a brain in her past life? How could she have pushed away such important matters, her mind filled day and night with unrealistic notions?
Especially after she and Hong Zhe had repeatedly run into each other unexpectedly in the palace and at gatherings; looking into Hong Zhe's lingering, affectionate gaze and his helpless appearance had broken Meng Qi's heart.
A grown man had stood before her weeping tears, saying that he had failed her, that he lacked the ability and capability, and that he had no choice but to obey his family's arrangements and marry a woman he did not like.
He had said that the younger daughter of the Dongshan Camp commander was completely devoid of romance and as detestable as a tigress. Yet he had no way out; he could only accept it and even put on a pretense of deep affection with her.He also claimed that life was difficult for him, being the third-born in his family, where no good opportunities ever fell his way. In particular, he felt he never had a chance to prove his worth to his brother-in-law, Prince Jing. He was desperate to prove himself; he wanted everyone to know that the Hong Family still had a third young master.
Hong Zhe wiped the corners of his eyes, lamenting how much he longed to make a name for himself in the palace and win favor in the eyes of Prince Jing.
Watching him like that, she had felt a heart-wrenching ache. What was it she said to him? Yes, she had said it didn't matter, that she would help him—no matter what, she would help him.
Hong Zhe had asked joyfully if it were true, if she could really help. Hadn't she said she disliked going to the palace?
She had told him that for his sake, she liked going; if he needed her to go, she would go.
Watching Hong Zhe beam with delight, she had felt wonderful inside, willing to do anything for him. She had completely forgotten that it was because of this man that she bore such a wretched reputation, that her mother had met a tragic end, and that her third brother had been implicated in her downfall.
And so, from that moment on, her life suddenly found a purpose, even as she drifted further and further away from Prince Rui.
A drop of ink fell from the brush held between her teeth, blurring the name "Song Chengze."
Meng Qi reached for her handkerchief to blot the ink, but only succeeded in smearing the three characters into a black, illegible stain.
Song Chengze, Song Chengze...Meng Qi's mind conjured up the gentle face of Prince Rui—fair-skinned, serene, and tranquil. One rarely saw ripples of emotion in his eyes; in her past life, having been married to him for so many years, seeing him lose his composure by the lake was the absolute first time.
No matter the time, Song Chengze always carried himself with refined manners, his gaze forever as clear and unruffled as the surface of a lake.
Even when facing the other princes—especially when Prince Duan and Prince Cheng harbored malicious intent, acted deliberately, or even caused him to lose face entirely—he remained just like that, with an attitude of "as long as you are happy."
Fairly speaking, Prince Rui was the most handsome among the Emperor's sons; the four characters "warm and jade-like" seemed tailor-made for him.
Actually, in her past life, had she simply lived her life honestly as his Princess Consort Rui without stirring up trouble, and without stubbornly walking down a dark alley with Hong Zhe, her ending would not have been all that bad.
After all, she had managed to become Princess Consort Rui despite bearing such a notorious reputation, and it was evident at the very beginning that Prince Rui had wanted to live a peaceful life with her.
She had ruined everything herself, challenging his bottom line again and again, trampling a prince's dignity beneath her feet.
Yet even so, after she had humiliated him to such a massive extent, he merely spoke those very words.Ever since her rebirth, she had been pondering who had sent the two old crones who had pressed her relentlessly into the lake water; she had never seen them before. For a time, she even suspected Prince Rui, because he had, after all, uttered those exact words.
Yet her intuition told her it was not him. If Prince Rui had wanted her to "disappear," he would not have done it that way. Furthermore, those two crones had only been forced to let go of her when Mother Liu rushed over and cried out for help, and yet Prince Rui had subsequently sought out an imperial physician to examine her. Even after the physician declared her beyond saving, he had scoured the pugilist world for wandering doctors.
It was precisely thanks to the acupuncture of one such wandering doctor that she had spent another three years lying there instead of going straight to meet her mother.
Therefore, she did not believe it was Prince Rui.
Who could it have been, then, that wanted her dead at that time? And who was the figure she had glimpsed through the surface of the lake?
Meng Qi's head began to ache again. Living her life over once, she was powerless to change everyone's destiny; as long as the people around her fared well, that would be enough. But to achieve that, she needed to plan meticulously, begin making preparations in advance, and know as much as possible.
In this lifetime, she would live differently and forge another kind of life through her own efforts.
She thought once more of the news Yuantong had inquired about and brought back when she was away at the estate. When she heard that the Crown Prince had abdicated the throne to Prince Rui on the grounds of having no sons, her astonishment had known no bounds.
She only knew that among the Emperor's sons, Prince Rui and the Crown Prince were on good terms. There was no other reason than the fact that back then, Imperial Noble Consort Lian had been a palace lady in the courtyard of Noble Consort Xiang, who was Prince Duan's birth mother.
At that time, Emperor Jing'an was not yet the Emperor, and they all lived in the Prince Jing'an Manor. For reasons unknown, Emperor Jing'an had taken Imperial Noble Consort Lian. Some said it was because she was too beautiful, while others said Emperor Jing'an had mistaken her for Noble Consort Xiang. In short, after a single night of passion, Imperial Noble Consort Lian had actually conceived.
Noble Consort Xiang was furious to begin with; upon hearing this news, in her raging temper, she immediately found a fault to make Imperial Noble Consort Lian kneel out in the blazing sun in the courtyard. It was only because the Princess Consort at the time—the Crown Prince's birth mother—hurried over that she was saved. Had she knelt for the duration of another incense stick, it was feared that Prince Rui would never have existed in this world.
Thus, under the protection of the late Empress, Imperial Noble Consort Lian successfully gave birth to Prince Rui. Yet for reasons unknown, Imperial Noble Consort Lian was extremely cold toward Prince Rui. After Emperor Jing'an ascended to that throne, because Imperial Noble Consort Lian had borne a son, he directly conferred upon her the title of Imperial Concubine Lian. While those of the rank of concubine and above were permitted to raise their own children, Imperial Noble Consort Lian did not; she declined on the grounds of a frail constitution and allowed Prince Rui to be cast away into the Department of Wet Nurses.In the end, it was the late Empress who could not bear it and took Prince Rui into her own palace. This was the reason for the close relationship between the Crown Prince and Prince Rui. Although there was a nine-year age gap between them, it did not affect their brotherly bond in the slightest.
Especially after the late Empress passed away prematurely due to illness, the Crown Prince was not favored by the Emperor. Coupled with his frail health since childhood, the other princes did not take him seriously at all. Each of them had powerful maternal families, and they all felt that replacing him was only a matter of time.
These circumstances only drew the Crown Prince and Prince Rui closer together.
Therefore, in her previous life, after the Crown Prince ascended the throne, Prince Rui was kept incredibly busy, as many important duties were entrusted to him. Of course, she had heard all of this from the elderly servant woman who attended to her.
The Crown Prince had ascended the throne only after her own downfall. The reason the servant told her these things was that, despite the pressure of state affairs, Prince Rui had never forgotten to seek out doctors and medicine for her. Every word the woman uttered implied that she did not know when she was well off, and that if she hadn't been so restless and troublesome, things could have been so much better for her now.
It was only then that she truly felt regret. In fact, she had regretted it ever since the day she stood by the lake and heard the words Hong Zhe spoke while kneeling before Prince Rui.
That was the moment she finally saw Hong Zhe’s true colors, and it was the moment her heart truly died. As she lay there, unable to move, she replayed everything from the moment she first laid eyes on Hong Zhe to the present. She wanted to slap herself hard, but she couldn't even lift her hand.
However, she still did not believe the Crown Prince would abdicate to Prince Rui. Even if the Crown Prince had no sons, he was not yet old and decrepit; why would he make such a decision when there was still hope? In other words, if he truly could not father children for health reasons, why not adopt a successor? He could have remained Emperor for a few more years; there was no need to hand over the throne he had fought so hard to obtain to Prince Rui.
Indeed, the Crown Prince’s throne had been earned with great difficulty. Although he had been named Crown Prince early on, holding the title for over thirty years was merely that—a title. His younger brothers always had the opportunity and the means to replace him.
It was a pity that by the time she realized all this in her previous life, she no longer had the chance to obtain any more valuable information.
Meng Qi thought with a hint of self-mockery: if she had known she would be reborn, she would have at least been more observant.
Meng Qi folded the paper on the table. Looking at the sheet where the name of Prince Rui had been smudged, she crumpled it gently in her hand. After a moment of thought, she slowly smoothed it out again, carefully pressing out the creases.
She blew out the candle. In the courtyard, the red lanterns swayed in the cold wind, casting flickering light and shadow across the room.
Meng Qi continued to smooth the paper in her hands. If there were a chance, she thought, it would be good if she could meet Prince Rui before the wedding.