Chapter 93.

The knowledge from the Taoist master had lifted Emperor Longfeng's spirits considerably. His pale, sickly complexion now bore traces of vitality, and for the first time in days, he managed to leave the Xuanqiong Palace without needing assistance.

Yet, as he approached the gates of Qianqing Palace, his mood soured at the sight of Noble Consort Wen waiting for him. His steps faltered, and his expression turned cold.

She’d been outside the palace for nearly an hour, unable to enter the emperor’s private chambers in his absence. Though her attendants had set up a chair and brazier to fend off the winter chill, the freezing winds of the harsh season bit through her resolve. Still, she endured, awaiting this moment.

When the emperor finally returned, she wasn’t about to let it slip through her fingers. Adjusting her expression into a carefully rehearsed mix of warmth and seduction, she sashayed forward, her slender yet curvaceous figure accentuated by her bold red gown beneath a luxurious white fox fur cloak. The thin fabric clung to her body, emphasizing every delicate curve.

Her voice, low and rich with practiced allure, carried a teasing edge as she softly called out, “Your Majesty.” Her eyes brimmed with a sultry intensity, her tone infused with a lingering charm that had once captivated him.

The emperor had adored this coquettish display in the past.

But today, he recoiled as if faced with a viper. He raised a hand abruptly, his voice sharp and unyielding. “Stop right there!”

Stunned, Noble Consort Wen froze mid-step, her painted smile faltering into confusion.

Perhaps realizing he’d been too harsh with his favored consort, Emperor Longfeng softened, though his words remained firm. “I’m still unwell and need to focus on recovery. You should return to your quarters for now.”

Her face flushed crimson, then drained of color as she clenched the handkerchief in her hand so tightly it nearly tore. Swallowing her humiliation, she curtsied gracefully and murmured, “As you command, Your Majesty.”

Despite her composure, the shame burned. The guards and attendants outside the palace had witnessed the emperor's public rebuke. Never had she endured such disgrace. Fuming inwardly, she swept away with her maids trailing behind her.

Only when her figure disappeared into the distance did the emperor exhale deeply, muttering under his breath, “Surely, the distance was enough to avoid being tainted by any sinister energy?”

Still uneasy, he ordered the servants to remove anything the consort had touched and cleanse the palace gates. It was only after these precautions were taken that he returned to his chambers.

Exhausted by the commotion, the emperor retired to bed, but not before instructing his trusted eunuch, Xue Shu, to fetch someone.

Following the emperor’s orders, Xue Shu summoned all the concubines residing in the northeast wing of the Yan Wang palace to the side hall. He then called upon the Taoist master, Ziyuan, to inspect each of them.

The master, his demeanor calm and ethereal, walked among the uneasy women, his gaze sharp and discerning. Finally, he shook his head. “None of these women carry the energy I seek.”

Xue Shu dismissed the concubines and returned to report the findings.

By this time, the emperor had woken from his brief rest and was sipping medicinal soup. At the sight of Xue Shu, he set the bowl aside, his eyes alight with anticipation. “Did you find the person?”

Xue Shu’s response was blunt. “The master said none of them are the one.”

The emperor’s hopeful expression twisted into frustration. “How could that be? Did you miss someone?”

“All the concubines were present—none were excluded.” Xue Shu remained composed, unbothered by the emperor’s growing displeasure. “The master mentioned that the individual is marked by strong yang energy, which is rare for women. Perhaps this person isn’t a woman at all?”

The emperor’s frown deepened as he considered the possibility. “It’s plausible, but the master also said this person shares a deep connection with me. Apart from the eunuchs and palace guards, there’s no one else in the palace who fits that description.”

His mind lingered on one name. Could it be Gong Hongfei, the commander of the Imperial Guard?

“Summon Gong Hongfei to the palace.” If there was even the slightest chance, the emperor was determined to leave no stone unturned.

*

The Longfeng Emperor had been on a relentless, ostentatious hunt within the palace walls for two days straight, determined to locate the person foretold by Master Ziyuan. Yet, despite all his efforts, the figure remained elusive.

Doubt began creeping into his mind—had Ziyuan miscalculated?

Could the person they sought not even be in the palace?

As frustration gnawed at him and his temper flared, news of his desperate search spread like wildfire.

The court officials kept their reactions subtle, with most heaving quiet sighs and a few opportunistic ones scheming ways to curry favor by helping locate this so-called "noble figure."

The harem, however, was a different story altogether.

Ever since the Emperor had coldly banished Noble Consort Wen from Qianqing Palace, no other woman had stepped foot inside. Not the concubines, not even the palace maids—they’d all been reassigned elsewhere, leaving only eunuchs to attend to his needs.

Stripped of her power and access, Noble Consort Wen was left brooding in Jingren Palace, devising new plots. She’d recently turned her sights on Yin Ciguang and his mother, determined to exploit them.

Just yesterday, one of her spies noticed the Empress wearing a sachet sent by Consort Rong. The bait had been taken. The mother and son had taken their first steps onto her chessboard. She smirked, already planning their next moves to ensure they danced to her tune.

But her schemes were abruptly interrupted when news reached her that the Emperor had scoured the entire harem in search of someone brimming with powerful yang energy. The words sent a jolt through her, her chest tightening with an inexplicable sense of foreboding.

Desperate for answers, she contemplated seeking the Emperor herself, but the man had made it abundantly clear—no woman was to approach him. After weighing her options, she reluctantly decided to bide her time.

The Emperor, meanwhile, was seething with irritation.

“We’ve torn apart the entire palace, and still no sign of them! How is this possible?” he barked, his frustration boiling over.

The stress was visibly taking its toll. His meals went untouched, his nights were sleepless, and his recently recovered health took a sharp downturn. The Imperial Physician doubled his prescriptions, but the medicines did little more than keep him afloat. Rest and calm were prescribed, but how could he rest when this search consumed his every thought?

Beside him, Xue Shu, ever composed and stoic, ventured cautiously, “Your Majesty, the entire palace has been searched thoroughly, even beyond the northeastern sector. Is it possible that Master Ziyuan was mistaken?”

The Emperor froze, staring at Xue Shu for a long moment.

The thought had crossed his mind before, but he’d buried it, trusting Ziyuan’s abilities after witnessing the man’s foresight during the plague outbreak in Zhili. Still, Xue Shu’s reasoning was sound. Ziyuan wasn’t a celestial being—mistakes were not impossible.

As the Emperor wrestled with his doubt, a eunuch approached with a message: Consort Rong and the Grand Princess sought an audience.

His first instinct was dismissal. "I will not see them," he declared curtly, wary of any woman’s presence while his illness lingered.

The eunuch hesitated before adding, “Consort Rong said it concerns the person Your Majesty is searching for.”

That gave the Emperor pause. If there was even a chance they had information, he couldn’t ignore it.

“Bring them in,” he commanded.

The eunuch led the pair into the inner chamber.

As soon as Consort Rong laid eyes on the Emperor, she dropped to her knees and pressed her forehead to the ground. “Your Majesty, I have come to confess my guilt.”

Yin Ciguang followed her lead, dropping to her knees in silence, her lips pressed tightly together.

As the pair entered and immediately knelt in a plea for forgiveness, Emperor Longfeng was caught off guard. “What is this? What crime could you possibly be confessing to? Have you hidden the person I’m looking for?”

He asked the question casually, without expecting much of an answer. Yet, to his surprise, Consort Rong raised her head, her face pale and filled with unease. “Your Majesty, the person you’re searching for… might be the eldest princess.”

The emperor’s eyes lit up at once. “Truly?”

As he mulled it over, it began to make sense. The concubines had all been investigated, as had the guards. Yin Ciguang could indeed be the missing piece in this puzzle.

“Quick! Summon Master Ziyuan!” Longfeng ordered, his tone brimming with anticipation. He glanced back at the mother and son, his once-stern expression softening into something more amicable. “If she’s truly the eldest princess, what sin could either of you bear?”

Consort Rong’s lips quivered, as if she had something to say but dared not. Her body, pressed low to the ground, trembled faintly.

Yin Ciguang, however, remained rigid, her face pale as a ghost, her lips tightly sealed, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

The emperor frowned, puzzled by their strange reactions. Yet, his mind was already consumed by the idea of confirming Yin Ciguang’s identity. Impatient, he began tapping his fingers against the armrest.

Before long, Master Ziyuan was hurriedly brought into the chamber.

As soon as he stepped over the threshold, his voice boomed, carrying a lighthearted chuckle. “Congratulations, Your Majesty! This time, you’ve found the right one.”

Emperor Longfeng shot to his feet, his excitement barely contained. “So it’s true? The eldest princess?”

Master Ziyuan approached, his sharp gaze sweeping over Yin Ciguang. After a moment of careful calculation, his tone was resolute. “Born in the jia-shen year, bing-yin month, jia-shen day, and bing-yin hour. Her eight characters are pure yang—there’s no mistake.”

The emperor, overjoyed, quickly turned to confirm Yin Ciguang’s birth details. When Consort Rong recited them, they matched Master Ziyuan’s calculations perfectly.

Laughing heartily, the emperor exclaimed, “Master Ziyuan, your wisdom is unmatched! Does this mean my ailment finally has a cure?”

But Master Ziyuan’s smile faded. His eyes lingered on Yin Ciguang, his expression darkening with hesitation. “Your Majesty, there is something… I’m unsure if I should say.”

“Speak plainly,” the emperor commanded, his good mood emboldening him to dismiss any lingering doubt.

Master Ziyuan hesitated before dropping the bombshell. “Your Majesty, judging by the princess’s fate, she… should have been born male. How is it that…” His brows furrowed as he recalculated, clearly puzzled.

The emperor’s joy dimmed, his gaze shifting to the two figures still kneeling before him.

The moment Ziyuan uttered “male,” Consort Rong’s trembling grew violent.

Emperor Longfeng’s mind replayed their earlier actions—their immediate kneeling, their plea for forgiveness—and a sense of foreboding settled over him. Slowly, he returned to his seat, his expression dark and unreadable. “Explain this at once.”

Terrified, Consort Rong shuffled forward on her knees, shielding Yin Ciguang behind her. Her voice cracked with desperation. “Your Majesty, please calm your anger. This… this was all my doing. Ciguang was forced by me—she’s innocent!”

Her words left no room for denial, an unspoken admission that Master Ziyuan’s revelation was correct.

The emperor’s face twisted with rage, though he restrained himself, the thought of Yin Ciguang’s potential usefulness momentarily cooling his temper. “Speak. Tell me everything.”

Consort Rong finally wiped her tears and began recounting the story, her voice trembling yet resolute.

"On the eve of my labor years ago, a celestial being appeared in a dream. They warned me that the child in my womb bore a pure yang destiny, while Your Majesty, as the True Dragon Emperor, radiated immense yang energy. Should the child be born as is, the clashing energies could harm the imperial body. The celestial being offered two solutions: either drown the child immediately upon birth or disguise him as a girl from that moment forward to suppress the overwhelming yang energy."

Tears welled up again as she continued, her tone thick with regret. "I couldn’t bring myself to kill my own flesh and blood, so I chose the second path—to raise him as a girl." Her voice broke, and she knelt lower, trembling with despair. "Now, hearing that Your Majesty’s illness lingers due to a lack of yang energy, I know my sin is unpardonable. Yet, I feared harming the imperial body and brought Ciguang here to atone. I am ready to face death; I only beg you to spare Ciguang."

With that, she bowed deeply, her forehead striking the ground with a thud, refusing to rise.

Yin Ciguang, pale and trembling, struggled to pull his mother upright. Despite a coughing fit brought on by his emotions, he still managed to cry out, "It’s my fault! Punish me instead—I will gladly die for Mother Consort!"

"This is sheer madness!" Emperor Longfeng bellowed, his voice laced with fury. "All this because of a dream?! And you dared commit such a treasonous act?!"

His chest heaved with rage as he glared at them. Only after draining a cup of tea did his anger subside slightly. Yet as he looked upon the tear-drenched pair before him, he felt conflicted. Normally, such disgraceful matters would earn no leniency, but his current condition required Yin Ciguang’s yang energy.

As he wrestled with his thoughts, Daoist Master Ziyuan spoke up, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "Your Majesty, there is something curious about Consort Rong’s dream."

The emperor’s interest piqued despite himself. "What do you mean?"

Stroking his beard, the Daoist explained, "The eldest prince indeed possesses a pure yang destiny, and Your Majesty’s own yang energy is unparalleled. The clash could have been harmful, but only under specific circumstances. At the time of the prince’s birth, Your Majesty was in your prime—your energy far too potent to be affected. However, the newborn eldest prince, with his immature constitution, could not have withstood the clash. Ironically, the decision to disguise him as a girl likely saved his life."

Hearing this, the emperor’s anger cooled further. It made sense—Yin Ciguang had been frail since birth, constantly dependent on medicinal tonics. Longfeng Emperor, though distant from the boy, could not deny the truth in Master Ziyuan’s words.

"Then is there any danger now?" the emperor pressed.

"None at all," Master Ziyuan assured. "In fact, allowing the eldest prince to remain close will accelerate Your Majesty’s recovery. A month of his presence should suffice."

The emperor glanced at the kneeling mother and son, his gaze softening. At last, he made his decision.

Summoning his attendants, he dismissed Master Ziyuan and spoke after a moment of deliberation. "In light of the fact that no irreversible harm was done, I will show leniency. The eldest prince’s true identity will be revealed at an appropriate time. For now, he will relocate to the side hall of Qianqing Palace to serve me as I recover. As for Consort Rong..."

He paused, watching the anxiety on Yin Ciguang’s face before continuing, "You will remain under house arrest for now. When my health is restored, so will your freedom."

Relief flooded Yin Ciguang’s face as he prostrated himself before the emperor. "Thank you, Father, for your mercy."

———Author’s Note: Big Dog Emperor: Just another day being an emotionless tool of fate.