Departure and the Orchestrated Disaster

This elderly imperial physician is truly too astute. If Feng Qichen didn’t already know Lady Min was feigning illness on purpose, she’d suspect this old doctor was actually planted by Ninth Royal Uncle just to make things harder for Lady Min.

With the old imperial physician’s thoughtful suggestion, Ninth Royal Uncle arranged for Lady Min to be sent to the temple that very night—for her own good, of course.

Naturally, Lady Min refused, but Ninth Royal Uncle didn’t even grant her an audience. No matter how much she protested, there was no one left to hear her.

“Your Ladyship’s devotion to the late Emperor is truly deep. If His Majesty knew, he’d surely be moved. Please rest assured, Your Ladyship—I will take good care of His Highness, so you needn’t worry.” The butler’s voice was loud, drowning out Lady Min’s quiet sobs and the murmurs of the crowd.

“Your Ladyship, I know you can’t bear to leave His Highness. But the imperial physicians said it’s a heart-mind illness, and only a cure for the heart will help. His Highness can’t just stand by and watch you suffer… Your Ladyship, I wish you a speedy recovery.”

The butler kept talking, never giving Lady Min a chance to speak. Lady Min was so furious she trembled all over, but she couldn’t afford to show her anger.

She was supposed to be a lovesick patient, too weak to walk, let alone raise her voice. Faced with the butler’s glib performance, Lady Min had no energy to fight back. All she could do was watch as she was loaded onto the carriage and paraded off to the temple.

Along the way, the Ninth Prince Manor servants dropped their usual reserve and became downright chatty. Whenever anyone asked, they’d repeat the imperial physicians’ unified diagnosis, turning Lady Min from a fake white lotus into the ultimate ‘true-love, loyal’ Great White Lotus—so devoted to the late Emperor that she insisted on going to the temple to pray for his soul. Ninth Royal Uncle had refused at first, but then Lady Min fell ill, and now she was supposedly on the brink of death.

Ninth Royal Uncle had no choice—for the sake of Lady Min’s life, he could only send her to the temple with tears in his eyes, hoping she’d recover soon.

Honestly, Lady Min had spent years building up her image as a good mother and good wife, and now, backed by the imperial physicians’ unanimous diagnosis, her noble, virtuous reputation was nearly impossible to shake.

With the title of Eastlyn’s good mother and good national mother, Lady Min can keep her foothold in Eastlyn—but whenever it comes to matters involving Ninth Royal Uncle, she’ll have no choice but to keep retreating. After all, that’s what a ‘good mother’ is supposed to do.

“The imperial physicians at the Imperial Medical Directorate are just too adorable.” Serena Feng couldn’t help grinning when she remembered the old doctor who winked at her before she left.

Old people really do get sharp with age—this old imperial physician was a master at reading the room.

“He’s from the Wang clan.” Even though he disliked it, Ninth Royal Uncle didn’t hide from Serena Feng what William Wang had done for her.

There was no way to keep something like this secret—better to just say it outright.

“No wonder they cooperated so well. Usually, the imperial physicians at the Imperial Medical Directorate are all extremely cautious—they’d never give such a definite diagnosis.” With that, Serena Feng’s last bit of suspicion vanished.

Ninth Royal Uncle pressed his lips together, unwilling to speak. Serena Feng’s trust in William Wang left him a bit frustrated, and with the Northlyn campaign starting tomorrow and so much official business to handle—Lady Min had already delayed him long enough—he had no time left tonight to spend with Serena, even if he was reluctant to part.

Serena Feng also understood that since Ninth Royal Uncle had sent Lady Min to the temple overnight, there would surely be more trouble to clean up. Not wanting to hold up his important work, she left just after the imperial physicians, only a little later than they did, and took the initiative to say goodbye.

Ninth Royal Uncle watched Serena Feng’s figure recede into the distance, but in the end, he forced himself to swallow his reluctance.

Soon, chaos would erupt. Right now, he had neither the time nor the privilege for romance.

As soon as Serena Feng left, Ninth Royal Uncle threw himself into work. He had to make absolutely sure that while he was away, Lady Min would remain in the temple—and that no one would dare release her just because she was about to become Grand Empress Dowager. He couldn’t risk her making trouble for Serena or for himself again.

Just as he’d said before—once she went in, she shouldn’t even think about coming out.

Lady Min could use public opinion to pressure him into legitimizing her status, but he could play the same game—he’d declare that Lady Min’s temple seclusion was not just to pray for the late Emperor, but also to bless Eastlyn itself.

He’d even arrange for one or two famous temple masters to announce that Lady Min’s presence was auspicious for the realm—and that if she left, disaster would strike Eastlyn.

If Lady Min insisted on leaving, he wouldn’t hesitate to engineer two ‘disasters.’

“Send word to General Dorian Owen—give Chu City’s enemies half a month more breathing room.” Ninth Royal Uncle issued orders to his shadow guards from his study.

These shadow guards would relay the message to Dorian in person, leaving no paper trail. If they were ever captured, they’d immediately take poison and die—no one would ever get information out of them.

“Twelve days from now, I want news of Eastlyn’s defeat to reach the imperial capital.” This order was sent to General Warren Yu, far away on the frontier.

Twelve days from now—on the day of Lady Min’s Grand Empress Dowager investiture—the news of Eastlyn’s defeat would arrive.

Whether Eastlyn was truly defeated didn’t matter—the point was to cast a shadow over the investiture ceremony. Lady Min’s position in Eastlyn would take a major hit, and with the temple masters’ pronouncements, she’d likely never get out again.

The shadow guards didn’t care how shocking these two messages would be—they only followed Ninth Royal Uncle’s orders, spreading the news as quickly as possible.

Lady Min would never have guessed that her ‘retreat to advance’ strategy would end up trapping her in a cage. Her son was far more ruthless than she’d ever imagined…

Not just Lady Min—even Serena Feng hadn’t expected Ninth Royal Uncle to have such a powerful backup plan. She was still worried that, after he left, Lady Min would make trouble for her, and was even considering hiding out in Shandong for a few days.

“Miss…” As soon as Serena Feng came out, Xia Wan hurried over and whispered a few words in her ear.

“Really?” Serena Feng raised her brows in surprise, a cold smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t expect he’d dare come to me.”

Jason Lan’s health had rapidly declined—he’d fallen ill and unconscious several times, sometimes not waking for days. Realizing something was seriously wrong, Jason immediately wrote to Serena, begging her to come to Liancastle to treat him, or for him to come to Eastlyn.

But Jason didn’t dare enter Eastlyn without permission—otherwise, he’d be violating their old pact, and Eastlyn would have every right to kill him.

Jason wasn’t reckless; he’d studied Serena closely just to get near her. He knew she had a ridiculous principle: no matter who the patient was—even if they were her enemy—she’d do her best as a doctor.

Serena had set this rule at the gates of Feng Manor, and for years, countless commoners had come for treatment. But never before had someone like Jason—offering a thousand taels of gold—sought her help.

This time, Jason was exploiting Serena’s rule—he’d brought a thousand taels of gold to buy her medical skills…