The Emperor had no sons, and the Empress Dowager was just as anxious as he was. Rumor had it that on the first and fifteenth of every lunar month, she sent a trusted attendant to Fahua Temple to pray for a royal heir.
Today was the fourteenth. Tomorrow would be the fifteenth.
If, by then, she could let the Empress Dowager's attendant catch wind that she—Meng Wenyao—was destined to bear a prince, the Empress Dowager would never let the opportunity slip by.
Thinking this through, Meng Wenyao felt a little more at ease.
"Granny Hua," she said calmly, "don't send a letter to Father. Returning to the capital without a summons is punishable by death. As for that snake Lady Liu, I'll handle her myself. She won't be a problem for much longer."
Granny Hua looked up at her young mistress with astonishment. The same delicate girl she'd raised now radiated a chilling calm and decisive strength. It wasn't something she'd ever seen in her before.
Maybe this really was the daughter of the great General Meng—born with the blood of warriors, after all.
Granny Hua helped Meng Wenyao into Fahua Temple and settled her into a guest chamber. The rest of the day passed peacefully.
The next morning, Meng Wenyao woke early, washed and dressed, and discreetly asked around for the time the Empress Dowager's attendant would arrive to offer incense. Then, she waited.
Near the end of the Chen hour (around 8 a.m.), a stately, stern-looking older woman arrived, accompanied by the temple abbot, and entered the main hall to burn incense. By the end of the Si hour (around 10 a.m.), she emerged.
Meng Wenyao stepped forward without hesitation and bowed to the abbot.
"This humble woman is of the Meng family. Last night, I had a troubling dream and wish to consult the master for guidance."
The abbot recognized Granny Hua standing beside her and understood who she was. With a gentle smile, he said, "Amitabha. Please speak, child."
"I dreamed of demons and monsters chasing me, all trying to kill me," Meng Wenyao began, her voice soft and deliberate. "Just as I was about to be devoured, a golden dragon appeared out of nowhere. It slaughtered the creatures and then circled around me once. I tried to thank it, but before I could speak, it flew away. That's when I noticed—my stomach had grown huge, as though I was pregnant. I woke up in a panic. Master, what does it mean?"
As she spoke, Meng Wenyao stole a sidelong glance at the palace matron.
Sure enough, the woman's expression changed drastically, and the way she looked at her was completely different now.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Dreaming of a dragon entering the womb? If this woman couldn't understand that kind of sign, she had no business serving the Empress Dowager.
"Amitabha," the abbot replied serenely. "You are troubled by worldly concerns. I will have one of the disciples recite the Heart-Cleansing Sutra for you."
He called over a young monk and had him escort Meng Wenyao to a quiet side hall for scripture chanting.
The palace matron, having said her farewells, rushed out of the temple at full speed.
This was none other than Granny Gui, the Empress Dowager's most trusted attendant. She oversaw everything in Changle Palace and was known for her strict and unforgiving demeanor. Normally, even the tiniest mistake from a eunuch would earn a harsh scolding.
But today, as she stormed through the palace gates, she didn't even pause when she caught two eunuchs slacking off. She glanced at them briefly and kept walking.
Startled by her cold gaze, the two eunuchs straightened up immediately and resumed sweeping.
One whispered to the other, "Granny Gui's in a good mood today. Didn't even stop to yell at us."
The other looked up at the sky. "Feels like the sun's rising in the west."
"That's nothing. The day His Majesty has a son, that's when the sun really rises from the west!"
They both stifled their laughter.
They were eunuchs—castrated servants of the palace. The irony that even with three palaces and six chambers full of consorts, the Emperor still had no heirs? The heavens were nothing if not fair.
Meanwhile, Granny Gui paid no mind to idle gossip. She had one goal in mind—reporting to the Empress Dowager.
"Are ghosts chasing you?" the Empress Dowager asked wryly when she saw her usually composed matron rushing in like her skirt was on fire.
"Not ghosts, Your Majesty—immortals," Granny Gui replied, bowing deeply before recounting everything she'd heard at the temple.
The Empress Dowager listened in silence, occasionally tightening her grip on her prayer beads. At one point, she even clutched Granny Gui's hand in a moment of intensity.
"Do we know who the girl is?"
"Rest assured, Your Majesty. I asked around. She is the legitimate daughter of Great General Meng."
The Empress Dowager fell silent again, her gaze turning contemplative.
"She dreamt of a golden dragon and woke up with child…" she murmured. "If that's a prophetic dream, it must mean she's destined to bear a prince. But what if… the child isn't the Emperor's? What if it's Prince An's?"
Prince An was the only son of the Emperor's deceased elder brother. His Majesty had no heirs and treated Prince An like his own. Everyone assumed he would be the one to inherit the throne.
Granny Gui blinked. She hadn't thought of that.
"You're right, Your Majesty. Prince An is about to come of age, and he's a good match for General Meng's daughter. If they marry and she bears a child… it would still be a royal descendant."
The Empress Dowager fingered her prayer beads slowly.
Yes… the Emperor could not produce heirs. If Meng Wenyao entered the palace and bore no children, the dream would be wasted. But if she were married to Prince An, the dream might still be fulfilled—and the imperial line preserved.
She nodded slightly.
"Send someone to the Meng residence—an etiquette tutor. Begin grooming the girl in courtly manners."
Granny Gui hesitated. "Your Majesty, do you intend to bring her into the palace or grant her to Prince An?"
"Prince An," the Empress Dowager said, closing her eyes. "Don't announce anything yet. Let her be taught first."
Back at Fahua Temple, Meng Wenyao was blissfully unaware that her plans had already gone off-script.
After listening to the chanting all morning, she returned home with Granny Hua, confident that the Empress Dowager would soon summon her to the palace.
Meanwhile, Lady Liu nearly shattered her teeth in rage upon hearing that Meng Wenyao had returned.
She had gone to the trouble of drugging the girl the day before, only for Granny Hua to show up unexpectedly and whisk her away.
Though Lady Liu was now the legal wife and mistress of the household, everyone—from the old servants to the guards—still respected Meng Wenyao, the General's legitimate daughter. Lady Liu had to resort to underhanded tricks in the shadows. She couldn't act openly.
Now that Meng Wenyao was back, she didn't even have the nerve to face her. Instead, she smashed a full set of fine Ru porcelain in her own room.
Her old maid tried to calm her. "Mistress, please—don't be angry. There will be more chances."
Over the years, Lady Liu had clawed her way into power, but no matter how hard she tried, her own daughter could never match Meng Wenyao in appearance, talent, or status. The resentment twisted inside her like a festering wound.
She had always lived in her sister's shadow. Now, even their daughters followed the same pattern. How could she bear it?
"No matter how much the General loved his first wife and daughter," she sneered after sipping a mouthful of cold tea, "they're not here now. And that precious daughter of his? Still has to live under my roof."
If she couldn't send the girl away this time, she'd try again.
She had to make sure Meng Wenyao was out of the house—married off—before the General returned. Once that happened, it would be too late to stop her.