Not long after congratulating Ding Yun on her hundredth birthday, Emperor Huiyang returned to the palace. After all, he was the emperor. Even though Princess Anrong was his elder, he couldn't sit in the secondary seat. But if he took the main seat, wouldn't that be overshadowing the host? To avoid troubling Ding Yun, and to prevent the guests from feeling awkward, he naturally had to leave early. In fact, most emperors in history had done the same when attending others' birthday celebrations. On his way back, he couldn't help but sigh, "Alas, Princess Anrong's lifespan is truly long. If I could live as long as she has, I would be truly content. I wonder if she has any secret methods for prolonging life. My imperial elder brother was truly foolish. He had a living centenarian in the capital and didn't seek advice on health preservation. Instead, he pursued the ethereal art of alchemy for immortality, and in his pursuit of eternal life, he poisoned himself to death. However, if he hadn't poisoned himself, we wouldn't have had this opportunity!" As he said this, Emperor Huiyang chuckled. After all, no matter how you looked at it, his throne was indeed thanks to Emperor Longsheng's pursuit of immortality, which had led to his own death. This gave him a windfall opportunity. Everything truly came down to luck.
"You should be content. From what I know, longevity has a lot to do with one's mother's lifespan and one's family's longevity. Didn't Princess Anrong's mother also pass away at over ninety? And for us women, barring accidents, we generally live longer than men. Look at how many grand old ladies there are in the capital, and how many grand old men are still alive. Also, don't forget that two of Princess Anrong's three sons have already passed away, while all her daughters are still alive. If she had any methods for prolonging life, wouldn't she teach them to her daughters instead of her sons? So, it seems to be related to bloodline inheritance, and this longevity bloodline might be passed down through the female line, not the male. You'd better not count on it!"
The former queen, now the Empress, had lived in harmony with Emperor Huiyang for over thirty years. Even after becoming Empress, their private conversations remained as relaxed and unrestrained as when they were in the prince's mansion, without any regard for formalities. They would occasionally tease each other. After all, when the doors were closed, it was all domestic matters; what was there to be formal about?
"You, rest assured, I won't act foolishly like my imperial brother. However, Princess Anrong's lifespan is truly enviable, and most importantly, her physical condition. She's already a hundred years old, yet she still looks quite healthy. She can speak, laugh, run, and move. She's also quite optimistic, having personally seen off two sons and two daughters-in-law, experiencing the sorrow of parents outliving their children. If she continues to live, she might have to see off even more descendants!"
Emperor Huiyang clearly understood his wife's meaning, so he gently patted the Empress's hand, comforted her, and then continued to lament Ding Yun's situation with considerable envy. "Her ability to live to such an old age in good health might be related to her open and optimistic outlook. If she were to be overcome with grief over the loss of her sons, she wouldn't have lived this long. As the old saying goes, a smile can make one ten years younger. There's likely some truth to it. Don't imperial physicians always say that avoiding extreme joy, extreme anger, sorrow, and fear – the seven emotions – is conducive to a long life? However, we don't have the carefree life she does. We can only hope to live a few more years, preferably long enough to have a son inherit the throne. We don't need to live to a hundred, as long as we can live until our son comes of age, I'll be satisfied. At that time, with an emperor brother supporting us, I doubt any驸马 (fùmǎ, imperial son-in-law) would dare to bully our daughter!"
In reality, the issue of not having a son had always caused them considerable anxiety, and their status change hadn't altered this. In fact, after becoming Emperor and Empress, their anxiety had only increased. This was due to the lack of an heir. This was also the case in royal families; regardless of whether one was a prince or an emperor, if they only had daughters, the daughters could at best inherit the title of commandery princess or princess, but there was no possibility of inheriting the throne. Let alone the imperial throne. Throughout history, the lives of unfavored princesses were often difficult, let alone princesses who had no parents to rely on and no brothers to support them. If they truly couldn't have a son and the throne fell into someone else's hands, no one could guarantee that the new emperor wouldn't mistreat their daughter. But if it were a younger brother inheriting the throne, out of pride and blood connection, he wouldn't neglect them!
As the Empress mentioned this, Emperor Huiyang's mood immediately sank. The couple exchanged a look and sighed deeply, then fell silent. Although they spoke of hope, they both knew deep down that at their age, having another son would be extremely difficult. Let alone another son, even another child would be difficult.
…
Meanwhile, at the princess's mansion, after Emperor Huiyang's departure, everyone finally relaxed, toasting and feasting merrily. Except for the occasional slip of the tongue where someone blurted out "May you live a hundred years" and got beaten up, there were no other conflicts. After all, it was Ding Yun's hundredth birthday, and what would be a blessing at other birthday parties became a curse for her. It was no wonder the person offering such a wish was beaten. The female guests also got along harmoniously. Some princesses with titles and status close to hers chatted with Ding Yun about makeup, skincare, and health preservation, seeking advice on longevity. Ding Yun was not stingy in this regard. She specifically chose longevity methods that, apart from being somewhat troublesome, had no other special requirements and imparted them. If anyone could genuinely follow them, she couldn't guarantee they would live to a hundred, but living to eighty or ninety in good health would definitely be no problem. The only issue was that most people couldn't achieve it. After all, the health preservation methods Ding Yun described involved requirements for daily meals, diet, mood, and actions. But the poor had their own difficulties, and the rich had their own worries. How many people could truly achieve this kind of health preservation that required restraint of the seven emotions?
Several hours later, the banquet concluded. Ding Yun's grandchildren saw off the guests, and they all departed. The centennial birthday banquet had officially come to an end. Simultaneously, Ding Yun's influence naturally increased somewhat as a result. In this era, elders were generally respected. Those over seventy already enjoyed many exemptions and even drew admiration, let alone those who reached a hundred. Centenarians could, to some extent, be treated as enlightened individuals or auspicious figures. Although there was only a one-year difference between a hundred and ninety-nine, this year made a world of difference. It was the difference between a two-digit and a three-digit number. Anyone who took the trouble to count could discover that Ding Yun was the first centenarian in the capital in nearly a hundred years. Many people sincerely believed that Ding Yun possessed some profound wisdom, perhaps even a reincarnation of the Peony Fairy. In such a case, how could her influence not increase?