Chapter 90: My Fate Is My Own, Not Yours! 【 Monthly Ticket Bonus Update 1 】
“Clang—clang—clang—!”
The sound of the Jingyang Bell not only spread outside the palace but also silenced the entire Yingtian Prefecture.
Even within the palace, the news of Old Zhu’s awakening spread.
And the people who heard this news.
Some wept with joy.
Some let out a long sigh of relief.
Others clenched their fists, their thoughts unreadable.
In short, Old Zhu had finally pulled through; some rejoiced, and some grieved.
And at this very moment, Zhu Yunteng, who had returned to the palace, was curled up motionlessly by his bed, having not slept all night.
It was as if everything that had happened yesterday had not yet been processed in his mind or heart.
“Yunteng! Yunteng!”
“Open the door quickly! Don’t scare us!”
Outside the door were the sisters Zhu Mingyue and Zhu Mingyu, who had rushed over upon hearing the news.
When they heard that Zhu Yunteng hadn’t come out all night and hadn’t eaten, they were extremely anxious.
However, no matter how much they called out or cried, there was no response from inside.
Until a familiar figure appeared beside them.
They heard the person say in a calm, dignified, and gentle tone, “Mingyue, Mingyu, has Teng’er not come out yet?”
“Mother Consort!?”
Upon hearing this, Zhu Mingyue and Zhu Mingyu started in surprise and quickly turned to bow to the newcomer, “Greetings, Mother Consort!”
“No need for formalities, we are all family.”
Consort Lü smiled faintly, then glanced at Zhu Yunteng’s tightly closed bedroom door and sighed:
“Teng’er, this child, has always been obedient. He must have been terribly frightened during his outing, making your Mother Consort so worried!”
Hearing this, Zhu Mingyue and Zhu Mingyu exchanged a look and lowered their heads like children who had made a mistake.
Consort Lü was pleased with their reaction, a subtle smile flickered across her lips before she slowly stepped forward, her voice steady and irrefutable:
“Teng’er, can you hear me? It’s Mother Consort. Your Imperial Grandfather has awakened. How heartbroken he would be to know you are treating yourself like this. If you don’t think of yourself, you must think of Mother Consort, your Imperial Brother, and your two elder sisters!”
As her words fell, there was still no sound from within the room.
Consort Lü frowned slightly and looked at Zhu Mingyue and Zhu Mingyu again, noticing that they quickly lowered their heads, avoiding her gaze, the moment she looked at them.
It was clear they were afraid she would ask about what happened outside the palace.
Consort Lü understood but did not expose them, acting as if nothing had happened, her voice maintaining its usual gentle tone:
“Teng’er! Didn’t you say the pig’s head meat in the palace wasn’t tasty? Mother Consort specifically had someone bring pig’s head meat back from outside the palace, from Wang Mazi’s butcher shop!”
“Why don’t you hurry and wash up and change? It won’t be good if it sits for too long.”
*Thump—!*
Before Consort Lü’s words had even finished, a dull sound came from within the room.
Immediately after, Zhu Yunteng opened the door in front of the astonished Zhu Mingyue and Zhu Mingyu, and his first words were, “Where’s the pig’s head meat?!”
“Heh heh, the pig’s head meat is ready.”
Consort Lü smiled gently, as if everything was still under control, and urged Zhu Yunteng with self-satisfaction, “Good Teng’er, hurry and wash up!”
However, Zhu Yunteng tightly gripped the doorframe, almost growling as he repeated, “Where’s the pig’s head meat?!”
“This…”
Consort Lü’s heart sank, inwardly cursing what had happened to this little waste. What was he doing?!
However, she only felt disgust and anger at Zhu Yunteng’s disrespect in her heart. On the surface, she put on an understanding smile and indulged him:
“Teng’er must be starving. Someone, quickly bring the pig’s head meat here!”
“Yes!”
A young eunuch immediately obeyed.
Soon, he brought over a plate of fragrant and glistening Wang Mazi pig’s head meat, bowed, and offered it to Zhu Yunteng, “His Highness the Third Imperial Grandson, please enjoy.”
Hearing this and looking at the pig’s head meat on the plate, Zhu Yunteng’s eyes widened.
In his mind, the shocking scene at the Hall of Supreme Harmony Square uncontrollably surfaced—
Zhang Biao pointing at the assembled nobles and roaring insults, each word like a blade, splashing a sky of blood.
Shen Lang, wrapped in a tattered straw mat, shouting in the cold wind, “Let the Great Ming perish!”
Sun Gui holding high the chamber pot lamp emitting a strange odor, his face a mixture of shame and tragic resolution.
And the low-ranking capital officials lying on the ground, shivering from the cold but with burning eyes.
Finally, Zhang Biao’s defiant cry as he was escorted away by the Imperial Guard, as if he had seen through everything:
“If I die! Let my brothers eat and drink well tonight! Consider it a celebration for me!!”
A celebration?
To celebrate with his death?
Compared to the “loving” pig’s head meat before him.
An extremely strong, nauseating sense of absurdity and bone-chilling clarity instantly overwhelmed Zhu Yunteng like an avalanche.
He slowly raised his head, meeting Consort Lü’s gaze for the first time, without evasion.
In his eyes, which always held timidity, confusion, or drunkenness, a complex emotion that Consort Lü had never seen before surged.
It was shock, confusion, fear, and a sharp sting of pain and doubt, as if he had been forcibly awakened.
He did not show Consort Lü the usual respect or gratitude for her indulgence. Instead, he stared intently at her, his lips trembling slightly, as if with great effort, he managed to squeeze out a few dry words from his throat: “Mother Consort. Have you eaten?”
His voice was soft, yet carried a strange calmness, as if repeating an extremely absurd and terrifying riddle.
Consort Lü felt an inexplicable tremor in her heart at his abnormal reaction and gaze, and her smile almost faltered.
She forced herself to remain calm and spoke even more gently:
“Mother Consort has been chanting Buddhist scriptures recently and does not eat meat. Eat if you wish, Teng’er, don’t mind Mother Consort.”
“Heh heh.”
Zhu Yunteng suddenly let out a low laugh, his voice hoarse, filled with deep self-mockery and a hint of imperceptible sorrow.
“Yesterday, outside, someone also offered me meat…”
He seemed to be muttering to himself, as if seeing again that oily paper bag, and that ‘good older brother’ who called him a waste but then gave him his last food.
“That person. he said…”
Zhu Yunteng’s voice gradually became clearer, with an imitative yet incredibly earnest tone: “Do not mock a poor youth.”
“What!?”
Consort Lü’s pupils contracted sharply.
“He also said…”
Zhu Yunteng’s gaze suddenly refocused, piercing directly at Consort Lü, with an almost cruel innocence and questioning: “Do not let your sorrow become the sorrow of the Great Ming!”
“Mother Consort…”
He stumbled forward a step, confronting Consort Lü, whose expression had changed, and his voice suddenly rose:
“Tell me, am I truly that sorrowful?! What else can I do besides eat? Am I really just a waste who waits to be fed?!”
He almost roared the last two words, filled with over ten years of suppressed humiliation and self-loathing, and the bloody pain of his facade being forcibly torn away by Zhang Biao.
*Boom!*
These words, like a thunderclap, shattered Consort Lü’s gentle mask in an instant.
The cage she had meticulously constructed, woven with rich food and indulgent pampering.
At this moment, it was fiercely broken open from the inside by Zhu Yunteng in the most direct and brutal way.
Consort Lü’s face instantly became extremely unsightly, a mixture of green and white.
She could never have imagined that a simple outing and that plague-god-like Zhang Biao could inject such terrifying clarity into this son she had nurtured into a waste!
Her fingers in her sleeves clenched fiercely, her nails almost digging into her flesh.
But years of training in the imperial palace allowed her to quickly suppress her surging emotions, and she put on an expression of hurt and grievance:
“Teng’er! You. How can you think like this? How can you speak to Mother Consort like this? Mother Consort loves and dotes on you, what have I done wrong? It must be those scoundrels outside who have tricked you and incited you…”
However, this time, her performance seemed to have failed.
Zhu Yunteng was no longer easily manipulated by her as before, his pacing not easily thrown off by her words.
He just stared at her intently, the confusion that had been in his eyes replaced by a violent pain and struggle, as if two souls were tearing each other apart within him.
One was the waste, domesticated for over ten years, accustomed to numbing himself with food and indulgence.
The other was a prince who had just been forcibly awakened by an external force, filled with immense fear and doubt about his own destiny.
He did not argue with Consort Lü, nor did he admit fault. He simply turned around abruptly and uttered three words:
“I’m not hungry!”
These three words, spoken with a dull sound, carried an unprecedented determination.
With a “bang,” the inner door was heavily closed from the inside, shutting out Consort Lü’s gaze, which had instantly turned cold and venomous.
Zhu Mingyue and Zhu Mingyu witnessed their younger brother’s unusual behavior, and immense waves surged in their hearts as well.
Zhu Mingyue covered her mouth, her eyes filled with disbelief and lingering fear.
She looked at the closed door and recalled the terrifying scene in front of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, a chill rising from the soles of her feet.
That Zhang Biao.
How could he cause such a drastic change in Yunteng?!
For the first time, she felt a slight but undeniable tremor of doubt and fear towards Consort Lü’s method of “gentle indulgence.”
And Zhu Mingyu was in a completely different state.
She crossed her arms, and although she still didn’t dare to be presumptuous in front of Consort Lü, her eyes shone with astonishing brightness.
“Do not mock a poor youth. Do not let your sorrow become the sorrow of the Great Ming.”
She unconsciously repeated these two sentences, feeling a surge of blood rushing wildly in her chest, making her scalp tingle with excitement!
“He’s damn right! “
She exclaimed inwardly with delight.
“These are words of a person! A million times better than those convoluted nonsense in the palace!”
That Zhang Biao, not only dared to scold the Emperor but also to confront the assembled nobles, and he even managed to make her useless brother reflect on his life?!
This was simply miraculous!
Zhu Mingyu felt her worldview had been impacted and reshaped like never before.
She suddenly felt that her previous worries about princess decorum, noble marriages, and vying for favor with Consort Lü and Yunwen were all meaningless and ridiculously trivial.
Look at how vibrantly Zhang Biao lived! That’s what it means to live with joy and hatred! That’s living a life without regret.
Although she would never admit it aloud, a seed of longing for the “abstract” and “crazy” had been quietly sown in her heart and was now vigorously taking root and sprouting.
Consort Lü stood still, looking at the closed door, then glancing at the different expressions of her two daughters, her inner shock, anger, and sense of crisis reached their peak.
Zhang Biao!
It was Zhang Biao again!
Not only had he disrupted the establishment of the Crown Prince and made the Emperor faint three times, but he had also reached into the Eastern Palace, attempting to awaken this waste she had carefully cultivated for over ten years!
He absolutely could not be allowed to live any longer!
He must disappear completely as soon as possible!
A cold, bone-chilling killing intent flashed in Consort Lü’s eyes.
Meanwhile, Zhu Yunteng inside the room leaned against the cold door panel and slowly slid to the floor.
The noise and coldness of the outside world, the aroma of food and the hypocritical care within the hall, seemed to have drifted far away from him.
He curled up again, burying his head deep into his knees, his body trembling uncontrollably.
The shouts from in front of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, Zhang Biao’s reprimands, and that heart-piercing “Do not mock a poor youth” echoed repeatedly in his ears.
“I’m not a waste. I’m not.”
He muttered to himself, his voice choked with sobs, filled with immense confusion and a faint but tenacious spark of unwillingness.
The domineering spicy, sour, and fragrant taste of the cold pig’s trotters in the oiled paper bag seemed to still linger in his nostrils.
A silent storm was brewing fiercely in the heart of this legitimate imperial grandson of the Great Ming.
“My fate is my own, not yours.”
