Marquis Gu was once again stunned.
Gu Baoshu’s mouth was known for spouting nonsense, but his mother and his wife should be on his side, standing up for him at every turn.
"This... why is it this time..."
Mr. Songshan said, "There are quite a few people concerned about the Marquis’s illness, and they naturally seize any opportunity to gather information. It just so happens that the Seventh Miss is young and innocent, so when people ask the Old Madam about the Seventh Miss’s marriage, she just says they want to keep her for a few more years, and maybe in the future they’ll let her choose a husband on her own... As for the Madam, she doesn’t say much... she just doesn’t refute..."
Marquis Gu slapped his forehead with a disappointed expression.
No wonder the looks he received in court were obscure and complicated.
So that’s how it is.
So that’s how it is!
In matters like these, clarity will prevail with time, and there’s no way to explain it to others right now.
The only consolation is that it’s not true.
He is indeed capable.
Mr. Songshan continued, "I believe this is rather a good thing because presumably, no one will dare plan anything against the Marquis anymore."
Gu Shiba said, "The Marquis refuses to take concubines, so any schemes they might have are useless."
Mr. Songshan shook his head spiritedly, "Not so, not so. If no one dares plot against the Seventh Miss, then the Marquis becomes a prime target. Without mentioning anything else, if the Emperor decrees a marriage, should the Marquis comply or not? If he doesn’t, the Madam will be in danger; if he does, how should the Madam handle her situation? The struggle for the throne has always been ruthless, who would be convinced by reason or propriety?"
Marquis Gu breaks into a cold sweat on his back, nodding, "When you put it that way, it can indeed be considered a blessing."
Mr. Songshan stroked his beard, his eyes narrowing as he appeared more profound and unfathomable: "The story I mentioned last time about Sima Yi, the Marquis must still remember. Sima Yi feigned illness and hid away for many years, then when the Emperor left the capital for a ritual, he staged the Gaoping Mausoleum coup, turning the world upside down. Feigning weakness was Sima Yi’s tactic for victory.
Now, the Marquis’s military achievements are outstanding, and the princes want to win him over, yet the Emperor is quite apprehensive. The most important thing for the Marquis is to feign weakness, to dispel the Emperor’s suspicion."
"Feign weakness," Marquis Gu muttered to himself.
...
The Emperor stood in the pavilion of the Imperial Garden, appreciating the chrysanthemums, while Old Wang stood a step behind him with a horsetail whisk, the hem of his garment and the whisk occasionally lifted by the chilling autumn wind, adding a touch of elegance.
The chrysanthemums were in full bloom.
The autumn sky was high and blue; even without clouds, it was refreshingly pleasant.
The autumn wind caressed the thick, soft, and long petals, rustling like a carpet of pure white, golden yellow, orange red, purple red, pink, and dark violet, releasing their fragrance.
The strong and brisk scent of chrysanthemums filled the air dominantly.
Not that I favor chrysanthemums among all flowers, but when this one blooms, no other can compare.
The Emperor softly recited, "The scent floods the skies, through Chang’an. Indeed, it smells wonderful."
Then his tone shifted: "In the evening, have someone pick some chrysanthemum petals to cook in a pot."
Old Wang casually thought, not auspicious; that’s a rebellion poem by Huang Chao, why did the Emperor recite it today, the next line mentions the city full of golden armor, who would enjoy an imperial siege?
Still, he replied, "Yes, this old servant will arrange it; Beauty Tao’s chrysanthemum cakes are also quite delicious."
The Emperor’s eyes narrowed into slits, his lips slightly curled, he nodded, "Set up the chrysanthemum wine as well."
Old Wang slapped his head: "Oh, how could I forget, Xing Zhaoyi steeped flower petals in wine last year, it’s been a year, it should be ready to drink."
"Yes, warm it up, pair with crabs, just talking about it makes me crave."
"Then how about organizing a chrysanthemum feast, all produced from the Imperial Garden, even the Empress couldn’t call it wasteful. This year’s chrysanthemums are particularly good, such plump petals in the pot, eating them would leave one’s mouth fragrant, even with a hint of crab not spoiling the taste."
Upon Old Wang mentioning the Empress, the Emperor’s brow twitched, he turned his face: "We don’t feast like this often; is luxury and waste something you talk about, I talk about, who else would say anything?"
His tone wasn’t good.
Old Wang forced a smile: "This old servant will have it picked, choose those large and beautiful blooming ones."
The Emperor laughed, "You old rogue, the way you talk ruins the atmosphere. I’ve heard the Firefly Collection sells well, in the future pick the topic of chrysanthemums for a competition, earn some money for us to eat in the pot."
Old Wang both instructed people to pick chrysanthemums and cautioned the palace maids and eunuchs to be careful: "Do not pick the flowers from the Empress Dowager and Empress’s Mid-Autumn banquet displays, when the time comes, don’t say I didn’t warn you if you get punished."
The Emperor frowned.
At that moment, Prince Qi found his way there, first paid his respects, and said: "Father is planning a chrysanthemum hotpot?"
The Emperor chuckled, "Old Wang’s greed started it."