Going South to Jiangnan, I Am An Orphan of My Own Will

No matter how beautiful, noble, or dignified she was, a woman past her prime could never truly compete with the fresh young concubines. Lately, more and more women were entering the palace, and more of them were getting pregnant. The Empress had grown numb to it. Even though Concubine Su was favored by the Emperor, she was still, after all, one of the Empress's own.

"Nanny, you’re right. I was worried about the wrong thing. What I should be concerned about isn’t the concubines gaining favor, but the children in their wombs. That wretched Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh is about to give birth—I wonder what sort of creature she’ll produce."

It wasn’t that the Empress hadn’t thought of targeting Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh’s unborn child, but Helena’s luck was simply too strong; every time, she’d managed to escape thanks to Serena.

"Your Ladyship needn’t worry. The imperial physicians say that Helena Hsieh has been bedridden for so long that her fetus is oversized, her body is weak, and her pelvis is too small—she’ll likely have a difficult labor. As long as you find a way to keep Serena, that troublesome woman, occupied during the birth, then whether it’s mother and child both dying, or just the child, it’ll all come down to your word."

The Empress found the old nanny’s suggestion feasible. The two of them began to scheme about how to keep Serena busy. Eliminating Serena outright was impossible, but keeping her away during Helena Hsieh’s labor wouldn’t be hard.

But there was no rush; they still had two months to plan. Yet before the Empress and her nanny could figure out how to send Serena away, they were startled by a major piece of news.

Both the Crown Prince and Prince Rowan had been confined at the same time, so naturally, when the Emperor decided to release them, he couldn’t ignore the Crown Prince—especially since many officials still supported him. Most assumed that once the Crown Prince and Prince Rowan were free, the two would immediately resume their fierce rivalry. But what happened next stunned everyone.

The very first thing Prince Rowan did after his ban was lifted was submit a memorial admitting his faults, saying he’d acted foolishly and caused his father needless worry, and deserved punishment.

The Emperor, seeing Adrian Eastlyn (Prince Rowan) sincerely admit his mistakes—and remembering how much he’d once favored him—immediately sent a heap of gifts to Rowan Manor, making it clear to all the officials that Prince Rowan’s imperial favor was fully restored.

Prince Jason could only grind his silver teeth in silent fury, but in the end, he had no choice but to swallow his anger. After all, he’d never won the Emperor’s heart.

If Prince Rowan’s return to favor was expected, then the Crown Prince submitting a memorial to request leave for Jiangnan to recuperate was something no one saw coming.

Even during confinement, the Crown Prince lived freely and arrogantly—aside from not being able to leave his manor, his life was better than ever. The Emperor simply turned a blind eye.

The Emperor’s leniency toward the Crown Prince was obvious, showing that the heir still held some standing in his eyes. And with the Crown Prince’s recent display of skill and composure, more and more ministers believed he still had a real chance at the throne.

Though his health was his greatest weakness, just days ago the imperial physicians said his mental knots were untied. For now, his life wasn’t at risk. With proper care, he could live another two or three years—and maybe by then, a cure would appear.

But just when things seemed to be turning in the Crown Prince’s favor, he chose to leave the Capital. Not only that, his most trusted ally, Prince Colin, surrendered his military command and requested permission to accompany the Crown Prince to a Jiangnan estate for recovery.

The Emperor erupted in fury. In history, only the Emperor banishes his sons—never do princes volunteer to leave the Capital, and certainly not the Crown Prince. The Emperor raged: "I won’t allow it! The imperial physicians can care for you here. What’s the need to go to Jiangnan’s watery lands?"

"Father, the imperial physicians say Jiangnan’s climate is best for my recovery. If I go, I might live a year or two longer. Please, Father, allow it." The Crown Prince bowed his head, sincere but not servile, making it clear that if the Emperor refused, he’d be denying his own son those extra years of life.

The Emperor was livid. "The Capital is vast—don’t tell me there’s nowhere suitable for you to recover! Don’t forget your identity and responsibilities. If you want to go to Jiangnan, then first request to be stripped of your title. Only then will I permit it."

"Father, Jiangnan’s climate is warm and springlike—nothing in the Capital compares. There’s nowhere here fit for my recovery. If you’re dissatisfied with me and want to depose me, I won’t object." The Crown Prince dropped to his knees with a thud, but never once did he offer to give up his title.

What a joke—without the Crown Prince’s title, who in Jiangnan would pay him any attention? He’d have no way to move the rich merchants there, and his deals with Ninth Royal Uncle would be dead in the water.

"You think I don’t dare depose you?" In truth, the Emperor really didn’t want to depose the Crown Prince.

Deposing the Crown Prince and having him request it himself were two very different things. The Crown Prince hadn’t made any mistakes; if the Emperor deposed him without cause, officials and ministers would see him as capricious, and those who supported the heir would be dissatisfied. But if the Crown Prince asked for it himself, all the blame would fall on him.

"I believe that as Crown Prince, I’ve always been cautious and never made a misstep. If Father wants to depose me, I have nothing to say." The Crown Prince knelt there, straight-backed, as if he didn’t care about the title at all.

He knew the Emperor wouldn’t actively depose him. His reputation among officials and the public was decent, and since he was already dying, why would the Emperor risk infamy by issuing a decree to remove him? All he had to do was outlast his own illness—there was no way he’d live longer than the Emperor.

"Are you threatening me?" The Emperor’s eyes narrowed, a flash of ruthless light passing through them.

Under the Emperor’s pressure, the Crown Prince felt a chill run down his spine, his breath caught, and his chest felt weighed down—he just couldn’t breathe. He tried to force out a few words, but as he opened his mouth, his vision spun and he fainted on the spot.

With a heavy thud, he collapsed to the floor. Not only the palace staff, but even the Emperor was startled, and quickly called for the imperial physicians.

The Emperor was ruthless, but he’d never intended to drive his own son to death—or take on the infamy of being blamed for such a thing again.

The imperial physicians arrived quickly. As a long-term patient, they knew the Crown Prince’s condition well. After examining him, they prescribed medicine and ordered the attendants to prepare it.

"How is the Crown Prince?" Whether they liked him or not, everyone had to keep up appearances.

The imperial physician frowned, carefully choosing his words: "The Crown Prince has suffered an acute heart attack and desperately needs rest—otherwise, he won’t survive three months."

Won’t survive three months?

The Emperor’s face changed dramatically.

If he still refused to let the Crown Prince go to Jiangnan to recover, it would look as if he were deliberately driving his own son to an early grave. After much thought, the Emperor finally decided to let him go—and issued an order that he could not return to the Capital without a summons.

So you want to go to Jiangnan? Fine—get as far away as possible, and don’t even think about coming back.

Not allowed to return without an edict—he might still have the title, but it was almost as good as gone. What Crown Prince could inherit the throne if he was barred from the Capital?

Receiving the decree, the Crown Prince felt neither joy nor sorrow. He simply ordered his guards to pack up and prepare to head south on an auspicious day.

A father without mercy, an emperor without love—from this day on, Dongling Zitian considered himself motherless and fatherless. He would live only for himself...