Chapter Twenty-Two: My Child, Your Mother Is Feeling Guilty

If Song Ci had to name the person she feared most in the Prime Minister’s residence, it would undoubtedly be the one before her now—her eldest son.

They say a mother and son share a bond; this handsome man, skilled in political intrigue, possessed a mind as sharp as a blade. It turned quickly, and she wondered if he could see right through her. If he did, so be it—let him summon some deity to send her back to the modern world; she wouldn’t mind at all.

Yet, despite her bravado, her heart was uneasy.

“Mother?” Song Zhiyuan frowned at her, puzzled why she was only staring, silent.

Song Ci snapped out of her reverie, uttered an ah, and said, “I’m fine here. You’ve just returned from court; there’s no need to rush in to see me. Go and tend to your matters.”

Song Zhiyuan smiled, “I merely came to pay my respects, Mother. Seeing you in good spirits puts my mind at ease.”

Song Ci thought, if you didn’t come, my spirits would be even better; I wouldn’t be so anxious, afraid you’d see through me. Facing you, my son, I truly feel guilty!

The more one says, the more one errs. Song Ci simply stopped talking, closed her eyes, and feigned fatigue.

“Are you tired, Mother?”

Song Ci immediately opened her eyes, “A little. Are you leaving? Hurry up, then.”

Song Zhiyuan: “……”

Why did he suddenly feel like his own mother was eager to be rid of him?

“Very well, I shall take my leave. The palace sent plenty of nourishing gifts; don’t hold back, let the kitchen prepare them for you in different ways. If you run out, have Lady Gu restock for you.”

“I know.”

Seeing her look weary, Song Zhiyuan didn’t linger. He rose and withdrew, glancing at Madam Gong before he left.

Madam Gong said, “Madam, allow me to escort the Prime Minister out.”

Song Ci understood the proprieties and waved her hand indifferently.

Madam Gong followed Song Zhiyuan out, sending him off from the house. In the courtyard, she dismissed the attendants, falling a step behind him as they spoke.

“Was Madam angered by some tactless person today?” Song Zhiyuan’s tone was calm.

Madam Gong shivered, looking at the tall man before her with reverence. Even his back radiated an authority that brooked no resistance.

She replied softly, “Rest assured, Prime Minister; no one would dare upset Madam. She merely treated it as a spectacle, those clowns never entered her thoughts.”

Song Zhiyuan held the greatest power in this residence. Every movement here was reported to him; naturally, he knew whether Song Ci was truly angered.

“Is Madam unwell in any way?”

Madam Gong answered respectfully, “Apart from forgetting some things, she’s otherwise fine.”

Song Zhiyuan halted, turning slightly, his expression growing cold. “Forgetting things?”

“Her memory is a bit hazy.”

Song Zhiyuan pressed his thin lips together. “Physician Lu said that after her illness, her temperament might change, and her memory could blur. Over time, she might become confused. Please keep a close eye on her.”

Madam Gong was startled and nodded heavily.

Song Zhiyuan departed, returning to his heavily guarded study. He summoned his advisers and shared his concerns.

“The Emperor has grown suspicious these past two years. I worry that Mother’s illness, with rumors spreading outside, might reach His Majesty’s ears and cause him to doubt us.”

The adviser stroked his beard, pondering before replying, “I believe it hasn’t reached that point. The Emperor seeks to overturn old customs and reform; he must rely on you. Still, the divide between ruler and subject remains. Keeping a proper distance from His Majesty is the wisest course. As long as your loyalty is unwavering, all for the Emperor, there is no need for concern now.”

Song Zhiyuan listened and said, “Perhaps I’m overthinking. The higher one climbs, the colder it gets.”

Even though he and the Emperor shared childhood ties, after all these years, they remained ruler and subject. This distinction, he never forgot.