Chapter 887: Borrowing Seed

Since the incident at the Laundry Courtyard, the entire Daxing Prefecture had become far more oppressive. Patrols of imperial guards roamed the streets at regular intervals, and the court had been embroiled in fierce debates over the past few days.

Amidst a dizzying series of official promotions and demotions, Song Qingshu decided to enter the palace to exchange information with Empress Pei Man.

Security in the palace was even more exaggerated. Even with Song Qingshu’s Qinggong, sneaking in proved difficult. In the end, he had no choice but to assume the guise of Xiao Xingguo and request an audience with Empress Pei Man at the Taihe Hall.

Inside the hall, the eunuchs and maids stood frozen in fear, as Empress Pei Man was in the midst of a furious outburst. However, the moment she heard that Xiao Xingguo had arrived, her anger vanished instantly. She waved her hand dismissively at the servants below. “Bring him in at once! All of you, leave. Your services are not needed here.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” The eunuchs and maids exhaled in relief, bowing their heads as they retreated.

“That Xiao Xingguo really is deeply favored by Her Majesty. The moment she heard he was here, her face lit up with joy.”

“Exactly! What’s so special about that little eunuch? Do you think he might be Her Majesty’s… kept man?”

“Shut your mouth! Do you have a death wish, daring to spout such nonsense?”

“……”

As Song Qingshu passed by these whispering eunuchs and maids, he couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly.

‘They’re not entirely wrong—in a certain sense, I really am Empress Pei Man’s kept man.’

The moment he stepped into the Taihe Hall, Empress Pei Man swept toward him in a fragrant breeze. “Young Master, you’ve finally come to see me!”

Looking at this mature and alluring woman, Song Qingshu sighed inwardly. Their relationship was purely one of mutual benefit—far from any genuine affection. Yet, the thrill of conquering a woman of such noble status still gave him a sense of accomplishment.

With a laugh, Song Qingshu removed his mask with one hand and wrapped the other around Empress Pei Man’s soft, voluptuous waist, pulling her onto the throne with him. Empress Pei Man was momentarily stunned but showed no sign of resistance.

“What, afraid I’d just take advantage and leave?” Song Qingshu teased.

“Young Master is hardly that kind of man. Besides…” Empress Pei Man traced her fingers along his jawline, giggling. “Even if you did leave right after, I wouldn’t consider it a loss, given how dashing you are.”

“Your Majesty certainly knows how to flatter a man. I wonder why the Emperor never visits you,” Song Qingshu mused, pinching her smooth chin lightly.

“I only know how to please real men. What kind of man is that Wanyan, anyway?” Empress Pei Man’s tone held no reverence when speaking of the Emperor.

“Why isn’t he a real man?” Song Qingshu already had an inkling but asked anyway.

Empress Pei Man blushed, glancing at him cautiously. “Promise you won’t get angry if I tell you.”

“Do I seem like the petty type?” Song Qingshu chuckled.

Only then did Empress Pei Man lean in and whisper in his ear, “He… finishes the moment he enters. Do you think that counts as a real man?”

Song Qingshu’s expression turned incredulous. “That pathetic?”

No wonder the Emperor is so temperamental, executing ministers at the slightest provocation. Physical inadequacy must have warped his mind.

“Young Master… you wouldn’t disdain me as used goods, would you?” Empress Pei Man suddenly murmured, her voice tinged with melancholy.

Song Qingshu laughed. “You’re his wife. Why would I care about that?”

“How broad-minded of you.” Empress Pei Man’s face brightened instantly as she peeled a grape from the table and fed it to him.

As he ate, Song Qingshu asked, “By the way, how did the court react after those Song Dynasty princesses escaped?”

Empress Pei Man covered her mouth with a giggle. “What you really want to know is whether they were pursued, isn’t it? Don’t worry—Wanyan is too busy dealing with Prince Chansheng to bother with such small fry. With my intervention, they should have safely returned to the Southern Song by now.”

“That’s good to hear. You mentioned Wanyan is targeting Prince Chansheng?”

“Yes,” Empress Pei Man confirmed. “Over the past few days, the Emperor has dismissed and investigated a series of officials under various pretexts. The one thing they all have in common? They were close to Prince Chansheng. Even Wanyan Tesi, the Palace Commandant who was nominally neutral but still friendly with Prince Chansheng, was dismissed for ‘negligence.’ Anyone with eyes can see the Emperor is moving against Prince Chansheng. These days, the prince has been as frantic as an ant on a hot pan—probably too anxious to sleep!”

Song Qingshu frowned. “Your Majesty, forgive my bluntness, but with Prince Wei dead and Prince Chansheng on the brink, and Wanyan’s health failing… once he passes without an heir, the throne will inevitably fall to someone else. At that point, you may not become Empress Dowager. Aren’t you just paving the way for someone else?”

“Killing Prince Wei was an act of self-preservation—I didn’t have time to think ahead. But now, I have a plan.” Empress Pei Man smiled coquettishly.

“What plan?” Song Qingshu’s greatest concern was whether she was secretly colluding with Wanyan Liang. Though she acted utterly submissive around him, a woman who had held the position of Empress for so long couldn’t possibly be an innocent lily. He didn’t fully trust her, and despite finding no evidence of a substantial connection between her and Wanyan Liang, he remained wary.

“You mentioned my inability to become Empress Dowager stems from the Emperor’s lack of an heir. But what if I gave birth to a prince?” Empress Pei Man’s eyes gleamed with calculation.

Song Qingshu’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly took her wrist to check her pulse. Though no master physician, his time in this world had taught him basic diagnostics.

Empress Pei Man giggled. “That tickles! Stop—I’m not pregnant yet.”

Song Qingshu raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you so confident? Wanyan isn’t exactly… capable.” No surprise there—with a harem of three thousand, the man only managed two sons in all these years, one dead in infancy and the other murdered.

A chill ran down Song Qingshu’s spine. I’m not much better, am I? He’d been intimate with quite a few women, yet none had conceived. At least Wanyan produced two heirs—what’s my excuse?

Of course, Song Qingshu had his reasons. Coming from the future, the idea of fathering children with historical figures unsettled him ethically. He recalled Huang Yi’s “A Step into the Past”, where the protagonist Xiang Shaolong lived a life of luxury in Qin but never sired an heir, instead adopting a son.  (G: that’s the first wn I ever read.)

For similar reasons, Song Qingshu had subconsciously avoided fatherhood, practicing “refining essence into Qi” to ensure his emissions were blank rounds. However, the Joyful Meditation Method he cultivated was a supreme esoteric art of Tantrism, granting him unparalleled mastery over Yin-Yang energies. He was certain of his physical condition—unlike poor Xiang Shaolong, he wouldn’t suffer such a tragic fate.

Empress Pei Man’s seductive laughter snapped him out of his thoughts. “Relying on that useless man, of course I had no hope. But with you, Young Master, I’m very confident.”

Song Qingshu’s pulse quickened. “What… do you mean?”

Empress Pei Man shifted into his lap, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “I’d like to borrow a seed from you. Our son could then become Emperor. Will you lend it to me?”

Song Qingshu’s throat went dry. He had to admit—the proposal was tempting. Controlling the Jin Dynasty through such a connection would be far simpler. Yet, Empress Pei Man might not be so easy to control.

Despite his reservations, the present Song Qingshu was no longer the naive youth of the past. These days, he only took interest in two types of women: those he loved purely, without ulterior motives, and those who could advance his ambitions. Empress Pei Man undoubtedly fell into the latter category.

After only a few seconds of hesitation, Song Qingshu agreed.

Empress Pei Man laughed delightedly. “Since you’ve consented, shall we… make that prince now?”

“Now?” Song Qingshu glanced at the brightly lit windows. In broad daylight? Her boldness knows no bounds.

“Time is of the essence. Who knows when that old fool will drop dead? I need to conceive before then so he can name the child Crown Prince,” Empress Pei Man replied.

“Won’t he grow suspicious?” Song Qingshu frowned.

“Leave that to me.” Empress Pei Man giggled, her delicate fingers already slipping into his robes.

Song Qingshu swallowed hard.

‘For the sake of unification… I suppose I’ll have to sacrifice my chastity!’

“Ahn~”

And so began a period of shameless indulgence.

*****

Before long, the Jin Emperor Xizong’s birthday arrived. Given the recent turmoil in the capital, the palace decided to host a grand banquet to dispel the lingering gloom, inviting all high-ranking officials and their families.

That morning, Song Qingshu entered the palace with Gebi. At the gates, they spotted Prince Chansheng, Wanyan Yuan, pacing anxiously. Since his consort, Lady Peach Blossom, remained at their estate, he had no family accompanying him. The other officials, sensing the political winds, avoided him entirely—a stark contrast to the crowds that once flocked to his side.

“Fickle, opportunistic b*stards!” Prince Chansheng seethed inwardly. Then his eyes lit up—the man he’d been waiting for had arrived. He hurried over. “Prince Hailing! Brother Hailing!”

Wanyan Liang smirked at the disheveled man before him. Once, Prince Chansheng had been at the height of his influence, barely deigning to address him as “Prince Hailing”. Now, he was calling him “Brother Hailing”?

“Is something the matter, Prince Chansheng?”

Wanyan Yuan nodded, pulling him aside. “Given my current predicament, I won’t mince words. You’ve always been well-informed. Tell me honestly—is this banquet a ‘Hongmen Feast’?” (G: A “Hongmen Feast” refers to a trap disguised as a celebration, derived from a famous historical assassination attempt.)