Chapter 1599: Chapter 1599: Chaos in the Prince Zhou Mansion

Early the next morning, Song Ci witnessed the very first recognition-of-marriage ceremony of her life in the flower hall. Watching the young couple, shy and a little awkward yet quietly exchanging affectionate glances, she couldn’t help feeling a bit emotional.

Old Madam, if your spirit in heaven is aware of this, you can finally be at ease. This is the legitimate eldest grandson you cherished so dearly; now he is a husband, truly shouldering a man’s responsibilities, and in time he’ll likely become a father as well.

A clear breeze came, laced with the scent of flowers, seeping into the heart as if responding to what Song Ci was thinking. Her smile grew softer and more benevolent.

"Yesterday’s wedding was busy and chaotic enough. Getting up so early this morning, you must be exhausted and have probably not even had breakfast, have you? No need to come here to pay respects today. See your mother-in-law back to her courtyard, then go back to your own rooms and catch up on some sleep. Newlyweds need more time together; that’s how feelings deepen." Song Ci said to Song Lingsu and his wife with a smile.

Guan Shuyan’s face flushed red. She curtsied and said, "Your granddaughter‑in‑law is not tired."

Song Ci said, "Your grandmother will be able to enjoy your filial piety for many years to come, but you mustn’t push yourself. Your health is what matters most; in the future you still have to help our Song Family carry on the line."

Guan Shuyan was so embarrassed her head was about to droop onto her chest.

Song Lingsu glanced at her, his ears also burning a little.

Song Zhiyuan stood up and said, "Father, Mother, I’ll stay and have breakfast with you in Chunhui Hall."

He hadn’t gone to early court today because of the recognition ceremony, planning to enter the palace only after breakfast.

"Good." Song Ci cast a sidelong look at Old Master Song, warning in her eyes, clearly saying: just try coming along.

Old Master Song had originally wanted to join them, but seeing this, he said, "I’ve arranged to meet a few old friends in the South Garden for tea and opera. I’ve already eaten."

Hmph, who cares!

Wanting to show off his own status in front of his granddaughter‑in‑law, he flicked his sleeve and was the first to leave the flower hall.

Song Ci curled her lip. Count yourself sensible!

She rested her hand on Song Zhiyuan’s arm and slowly strolled back to her own courtyard, chatting with him as they walked.

"Last night, Prince Zhou’s legitimate son, who’d already broken out in smallpox, suddenly went into convulsions. They weren’t able to save him; the child is gone." Song Zhiyuan relayed the news he’d received and said, "This child was also born of the main wife. The Emperor probably won’t be taking it well. I’ll have to enter the palace shortly."

Song Ci said in surprise, "How could it be such a coincidence, of all times happening last night?"

Song Zhiyuan gave a short laugh. "That’s not even the most coincidental part. The real coincidence is that Concubine Wen, after returning from the banquet here, felt unwell and was then diagnosed with a pregnancy pulse."

This time Song Ci was genuinely astonished.

"Is this information reliable?"

Song Zhiyuan nodded. "Prince Zhou Mansion is going to be in an uproar. That piece of flesh in Concubine Wen’s belly is likely to be branded with a ’hard fate’ stigma before it’s even born."

He didn’t need to spell it out; Song Ci already knew what he meant.

On the very night Concubine Wen was diagnosed as pregnant, the legitimate son in the Prince Mansion happened to die. Granted, the boy had already developed smallpox, and in ancient times the mortality rate for children with smallpox was extremely high.

Prince Zhou’s legitimate son was only about one, almost two years old—precisely that unstable age people talk about. Dying of smallpox at such a tender age, in some people’s eyes, probably wouldn’t seem so uncommon.

The uncanny part was that Concubine Wen happened to be diagnosed as pregnant on that very day. With ancient folk steeped in belief in spirits and superstitions, they would almost certainly think her child had "overcome" or "克" the legitimate heir.

Even if that weren’t the case, Consort Zhou would nail that reputation firmly onto the child’s head.

A mother who’s lost her child is the least reasonable person of all, and reason won’t even enter the conversation—let alone when status is involved.

"Concubine Wen’s days ahead are unlikely to be peaceful." Song Ci let out a soft sigh.

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