Echoes of My Heart Throughout the Court

Chapter 215: Faking a Crippled Leg and Sitting in a Wheelchair for Fifteen Years to Avoid the Emperor’s Suspicion? (2 / 2)

The mention of the crown prince brought a new wave of fury to the old emperor’s mind. He remembered that Prince Jibei’s ultimate goal was to drive his own son to despair!

His expression hardened even further in an instant.

“Sima Chen! Are you planning to personally harm your own nephew?!”

[Oh! Not exactly.]

[Prince Jibei thinks he’s an idiot. He didn’t even tell him about this plan for fear he’d mess it up.]

The old emperor: “…”

Tsk.

But he couldn’t bring himself to feel pleased.

A fool who had been plotting rebellion for 30 years and was captured in less than half a day—what was there to celebrate about him calling someone else a fool?

When the beating finally stopped, Prince Jin gasped for air, struggling to catch his breath. In between his wheezing, he muttered in confusion, “Nephew? What nephew?” Suddenly, his expression shifted to one of shock. “Prince Jibei made a move against my eldest nephew?! When did that happen? Wasn’t he planning to raise an army to rebel?”

But his older brother’s expression didn’t soften. Instead, his gaze grew colder, and he swung the stick once more, landing it brutally on one of Prince Jin’s wounds. Flesh tore open further, and blood sprayed.

Prince Jin clutched the wound, sweat glistening on his face like a crimson sheen. “Imperial Brother… I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I wasn’t deeply involved in Prince Jibei’s plans. Later, when my wife became pregnant, I feared things would go wrong, so I immediately severed ties with him. Now, I really just want to live a quiet life as a carefree prince, shut the door, and live peacefully with my wife and children.”

[Attempted murder doesn’t stop being murder just because it wasn’t carried out.]

Xu Yanmiao clicked his tongue in his mind.

[If Prince Jibei had succeeded, would he have spared the lives of the old emperor and his family?]

[If Prince Jin realized this and still went along, then he’s knowingly risking the emperor’s family for his own assumptions.]

[If he didn’t realize it, then he’s reckless and acts without considering consequences. Either way, it’s pretty terrifying.]

[The old emperor is quite pitiful, ending up with such an ungrateful wolf.]

The old emperor glanced at Xu Yanmiao.

He wouldn’t say he felt particularly happy at the moment, but hearing Xu Yanmiao side with him did visibly ease his expression.

“Hmph—”

You little brat, at least my indulgence toward you wasn’t wasted.

But when he turned back to Prince Jin, his anger flared anew.

And this one—this one he had indulged, too! Yet all it had done was breed a treacherous ingrate!

“Sima Chen! Tell me, where have I ever wronged you to make you harbor such resentment against me?”

Before the response could come, Xu Yanmiao’s inner commentary rang out first.

[Blame Prince Jibei fifty percent, and himself fifty percent.]

[He grew up among commoners and wasn’t found until he was eleven. After entering the palace, he had no real concept of the royal family. Most of the books he read described the imperial court as heartless. Plus, he felt insecure because his surname was Sima, while the emperor’s was Gao. It made him paranoid about making mistakes, always walking on eggshells.]

The old emperor’s fists clenched, his hand itching to grab the stick again.

[In the beginning, the emperor was too busy to care much about this newfound younger brother. Meanwhile, Prince Jibei, who hadn’t been sent to his fief yet, frequently sent books to the palace for him. Novels, history books…]

[Tsk, tsk, carefully chosen historical accounts, too. Stories where a younger brother killed his emperor brother with an axe and forcibly seized the throne.]

[Or where a mother favored the younger son and secretly ordered the emperor to pass the throne to him, leading to the elder brother’s resentment.]

[And even tales where a doting mother favored her youngest child, causing the older brother to feel jealous and target his younger sibling after the mother’s death.]

[With thousands of years of history, you can find any scenario tailored to your circumstances. It turned him into a nervous wreck, always suspecting the emperor’s smiles hid daggers, fearing a cup would be smashed to summon five hundred executioners to end him.]

[Honestly, I’m not sure whether to call this paranoia or something else.]

[And so, the books that were supposed to spark ambition instead scared him witless.]

[Hilarious. Prince Jibei probably thought this would work, but didn’t bother to correct course when it backfired.]

The old emperor: “…”

At this moment, even though Prince Jibei had already been beheaded, the emperor resolved to dig up his corpse and lash it.

When Prince Jin finally responded to the emperor’s question, explaining the origins of his suspicions and thoughts in detail, it was exactly as Xu Yanmiao had described. The old emperor immediately kicked him.

“Idiot! Fool! History also has stories of emperors doting on their children and being kind to their brothers! Why didn’t you believe those?!”

[Well, that’s hard to believe.]

[Being kind to children, sure. But brothers? Out of a hundred emperors, maybe one genuinely cared for his brothers. The rest probably focused on gutting them.]

The old emperor staggered backward but quickly steadied himself.

Lower your heads… just lower your heads…

The ministers, understanding the unspoken command, silently lowered their gazes, staring at their shoes. They were one step away from kneeling to beg this “little ancestor” to stop twisting the knife in His Majesty’s heart.

Prince Jin hesitantly spoke, “Imperial Brother, I…”

“Shut up,” the old emperor said coldly. “I don’t want to hear you right now.”

Then, he raised his foot and gave another firm kick to his troublesome younger brother’s useless legs.

[Stop kicking, stop kicking! The princess consort is a miracle doctor; maybe she could still cure his legs. But if you really kick and cause some new issue, it’ll be harder to fix.]

[Oh, but then again, he’s already committed treason. He might lose his head, so the emperor probably doesn’t care about his legs.]

[Wait a minute. Speaking of which, after all this time, hasn’t the princess consort tried to treat his legs? That doesn’t make sense. They’re supposed to be quite loving, and his condition isn’t due to broken bones or anything. It was from shielding the emperor during an assassination attempt years ago—poison left him unable to walk properly.]

[She’s said to have inherited her master’s expertise in detoxification.]

Though it wasn’t appropriate, the ministers’ attention subconsciously drifted.

“Little Bai Ze’s thoughts are far too simple.”

“Yes, after so many years, his legs are probably beyond saving. Even the heir of a divine healer wouldn’t be able to bring the dead wood back to life, would they?”

“Besides, maybe she secretly examined him but couldn’t do anything about it.”

The murmuring was very quiet, limited to the back-row ministers. The front-row officials remained composed.

For instance, Prime Minister Dou stood with his hands tucked into his sleeves, appearing unbothered.

Such trivial matters were hardly worth noting. If the legs were truly healed, that would be something to pay attention to.

[Huh, that’s odd. The princess consort did want to check Prince Jin’s legs, but he refused? Claimed it was hopeless, so there was no point?]

The Minister of War, who hadn’t slept well the previous night, was struggling to stay awake. Unable to doze off in the front row, he sought distractions to keep himself alert.

Hearing this inner thought, he yawned discreetly.

Xu Yanmiao was still too inexperienced. This wasn’t hard to figure out—Prince Jin simply didn’t want his hopes dashed again. A natural reaction.

[Let me take a closer look…]

[Wait a second?????]

[You’re faking being crippled?!]

[You’ve been pretending for fifteen years to avoid suspicion from the emperor, sitting in a wheelchair all this time?!]

[And to be extra cautious, you’ve never stood up even at home?]

[Holy—! Not even your personal attendants or confidants know you can walk?!]

The Minister of War suddenly felt a jolt of realization. His gaze snapped to Prince Jin, who was seated in his wheelchair and had just been kicked in the “crippled” leg—yet remained completely motionless.

Prince Jin sat with his head bowed, humbly apologizing to the emperor. The very leg that had supposedly been kicked still didn’t twitch.

The Minister of War: “…”

Forget calling Xu Yanmiao naive—I’m the naive one.

What the hell—

Impressive!

What kind of brain comes up with this?!

A faint gasp rippled through the ministers.

What normal person could fake being unable to walk for fifteen years?!

Prince Jin’s expression sharpened slightly. He noticed his imperial brother’s face had contorted—did this mean his killing intent had intensified?

No! He had to save himself! He wasn’t alone in this world anymore!

Thud—

Prince Jin threw himself out of the wheelchair, landing on the ground.

Then, with great difficulty, he began inching forward using his arms.

“Imperial Brother!”

“Imperial Brother!”

“Your younger brother knows his mistake!”

“I beg Your Majesty’s mercy—consider my early decision to sever ties with Prince Jibei and spare me the death penalty!”

The old emperor: “…”

He stared expressionlessly at this peculiar brother of his and was once again convinced: his younger brother truly lacked sense. At a time like this, he still dared to bring up Prince Jibei. It would’ve been better if he had tearfully mentioned their mother, confessed his guilt to the emperor, and offered to relinquish his title and spend his life mourning her.

Was this really worth such a fit of anger?

“…”

Forget it. The Jin Prince’s household wouldn’t face total destruction.

Exile to Guizhou would suffice.