The decree from Taiyang Palace had not yet been announced, but the concubines in the rear palace were already exhausted from the endless scripture copying.
“Five days! Su Meidai made me copy scriptures for five whole days!” Consort Ning glared at the pile of scriptures on her desk, her eyes bloodshot. She raised her hand, wanting to tear them all to pieces, but the thought of Su Meidai’s ruthless methods made her restrain herself.
“Your Highness,” a palace maid stammered, shrinking her neck as she spoke to the furious Consort Ning. “Consort Su from Bright Moon Palace sent someone to say… to say…”
“What did she say now?” Consort Ning’s chest heaved with anger, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “Speak!”
“Consort Su said that, moved by the benevolence of all the ladies, tomorrow… tomorrow we will continue copying scriptures.”
“Su Meidai!” Consort Ning finally lost her temper, sweeping the scriptures off the table. “That vile woman is going too far!”
“Your Highness, please calm down,” the female official said, bending to pick up the scattered scriptures. “Consort Su is currently in the Emperor’s favor. You must endure. Throughout history, which scheming concubine hasn’t enjoyed a brief moment of glory before meeting a tragic end? You still have Prince Qi. His Highness is outstanding, admired by all the court officials. As long as you remain patient, everything will turn out well.”
“Back then, during the trip to Lingzhou…”
“Your Highness!” The female official placed the scriptures back on the table. “Don’t forget, eight years ago, when you were unwell, His Highness stayed in the palace to care for you. You and His Highness did not accompany the Emperor on that journey.”
“You’re right.” Consort Ning gently smoothed the curled corners of the scriptures, her voice softening. “My son is filial and virtuous, far superior to that useless Prince Chen.”
In Bright Moon Palace, Consort Su flipped through the case files compiled by the Court of Judicial Review and let out a disdainful snort. “A concubine who was never favored by the late Emperor went to such lengths to bribe a maid in Bright Moon Palace, using embroidery to sow discord between me and Jiuzhu. What was she trying to achieve?”
If she had such capabilities, she would have won the late Emperor’s favor long ago. How could she still have been a low-ranking concubine when the Emperor passed away?
“I don’t care who’s behind this. Until I’ve fully vented my anger, they will continue copying scriptures.” Consort Su tossed the case files onto the table and lazily closed her eyes. “Once their malice is purified by the scriptures, they won’t have the energy to scheme behind my back.”
“These scheming individuals thought they could use petty tricks to drive a wedge between you and Miss Ming, but they didn’t realize how clever Miss Ming is. Not only did she expose their plot, but they also lost many of their trusted aides.” Xiangjuan smiled. “Even I was surprised that day when Miss Ming pretended to agree with them and then secretly informed me.”
“It shows that she sees me as someone she can trust.” Consort Su understood clearly that if other noble ladies had encountered such a situation, most would have politely declined or subtly hinted at the danger in a way that protected themselves from being entangled in palace intrigues.
That would have been the most prudent and perfect solution. But sometimes, what touches the heart the most is precisely that unguarded imperfection.
“Sigh.” Consort Su suddenly sighed. “Xiangjuan, do you think if the Ming family has objections to this marriage, Jiuzhu might feel torn between my son and her family?”
Xiangjuan remained silent.
Your Highness, Miss Ming and His Highness aren’t even married yet. You’re thinking quite far ahead.
“By the way, Your Highness, something minor involving Miss Ming happened the other day.” Xiangjuan said. “On their way back from a temple visit, the Dowager of Pingyuan Marquisate and her family encountered Miss Ming’s carriage. Without so much as a greeting, they expected Miss Ming to yield the right of way. It wasn’t until they coincidentally met Prince Qi that the Dowager finally spoke up and allowed Miss Ming to pass first.”
“Those pretentious women from Pingyuan Marquisate dare to make my future daughter-in-law yield to them? Have I been too lenient with them?” Consort Su opened her eyes. “Do they think they’re worthy of such respect?”
Xiangjuan quietly reminded her, “Your Highness, Miss Ming isn’t married to His Highness yet.”
“So what if they’re not married yet? Wasn’t I clear enough at the birthday banquet?” Consort Su scoffed. “Summon the Lady of Pingyuan Marquisate. There are rumors that the Pingyuan Marquisate is excessively extravagant and allows their servants to speak recklessly. I want to know how they manage their household.”
If they dared to make her future daughter-in-law yield on the street, they shouldn’t blame her for humiliating them.
When it comes to throwing one’s weight around, she’s quite skilled at it.
At the Ming residence, Lady Shen entered her daughter’s courtyard and saw Jiuzhu painting under a tree. She paused.
“Mother.” Jiuzhu, sharp-eyed and quick-eared, heard her mother’s footsteps as soon as she entered the courtyard. She put down her brush and looked toward the door. “Is there something you need?”
Her mother never disturbed her when she was painting.
“The Ministry of Rites sent someone to inform us that an imperial decree will be issued later. Go change your clothes so as not to appear disrespectful.” Lady Shen walked over to her daughter and glanced at the painting of withered lotus leaves on the table. Her expression remained calm as she looked away. “I wonder what the decree will be about.”
Such formality suggests it’s no small matter.
Could it… be related to Jiuzhu and His Highness’s wedding date?
“I’ll go change right away.” Jiuzhu asked Lady Shen, “Mother, what do you think of my painting, ‘Carp Playing Among Lotus’?”
The question transported Lady Shen back over twenty years, to when she had first met her husband. He, too, had held up a painting of something unrecognizable and confidently asked if she liked the artwork he had created especially for her.
If he hadn’t been so handsome and his voice so pleasant, she might have bluntly asked, “What on earth is this supposed to be?”
But his gaze had been so earnest that she had lied against her better judgment.
Now, decades later, just when she thought her husband had finally gained some self-awareness about his artistic skills, she found herself once again lying out of love.
The artistic conception is extraordinary, and the brushstrokes are quite interesting. It’s very good.
Praising one’s daughter isn’t lying—it’s love.
“If even Mother says it’s good, then I’m reassured.” Jiuzhu hung the painting up to dry. “Once it’s dry, I’ll give it to Prince Chen.”
Lady Shen: “…”
Although it’s said that Prince Chen dislikes poetry and literature, he should still have some ability to appreciate art. If Jiuzhu sends this painting to Prince Chen’s residence, might he think she’s deliberately insulting him?
“Is that not allowed?” Jiuzhu’s eyes dimmed as she noticed her mother’s silence.
“Of course, it’s allowed.” Lady Shen replied. “But a young lady’s brushwork is precious and shouldn’t be shown to others lightly.”
“Don’t worry, Mother.” Jiuzhu smiled brightly. “I won’t give it to anyone except those close to me.”
Lady Shen forced a smile, hoping that Prince Chen would humor Jiuzhu just as she had humored her husband all those years ago.
At three in the afternoon, Li En, the Minister of Rites, entered the Ming residence with an imperial decree, accompanied by the palace’s golden-armored honor guard.
“Brother Ming.” Li En smiled at Ming Jingzhou and his family, who were dressed formally and waiting at the main gate. “Today, I am here by His Majesty’s order to announce an imperial decree. Ming Jingzhou, prepare to receive the decree.”
“Long live His Majesty!” Ming Jingzhou looked at the golden-armored honor guard behind Li En, puzzled. Why had the Emperor sent the palace’s ceremonial troops?
“…Loyal to the sovereign, devoted to the people…”
“Moved by Ming Jingzhou’s loyalty and sincerity, I hereby confer upon him the title of Earl of Ningkang.”
Ming Jingzhou knelt on the ground, stunned, unable to believe his ears.
A noble title?
The Emperor had granted him a noble title?
For countless ministers and generals, the ultimate goal in life was to earn a noble title and be enshrined in the imperial ancestral temple after death. Yet, throughout the Great Cheng Dynasty, emperors rarely granted titles to officials outside the royal family, making such honors exceptionally rare.
Even though the Ming family had produced two top scholars and one third-place finisher in the imperial examinations, they had never dared to dream of a noble title. And now, it had been bestowed upon him just like that?
Jiuzhu, kneeling on the ground, glanced at her father. The usually composed and dignified Ming Jingzhou was now visibly shocked and overjoyed, making her curious about just how significant this title was.
“Congratulations, Earl of Ningkang.” Li En handed the decree to Ming Jingzhou, his eyes filled with both admiration and concern. As both a friend and a colleague, he understood the Emperor’s underlying intentions in granting this title to Ming Jingzhou.
“The wedding date for Prince Chen and your daughter has been set.” Li En helped Ming Jingzhou, who was still kneeling, to his feet. “It will be on the second day of the second month next spring.”
The second day of the second month…
Ming Jingzhou abruptly looked down at his daughter, still kneeling on the ground, and murmured, “The second day of the second month…”
“Father.” Jiuzhu helped Lady Shen stand and winked at Ming Jingzhou, quietly reminding him that he still needed to thank the Emperor.
"Your humble servant thanks Your Majesty for your profound favor." Ming Jingzhou knelt in the direction of the palace, holding the imperial decree: "As a subject, I shall spare no effort to serve Your Majesty and repay your grace."
Clutching the decree, which felt as heavy as a thousand pieces of gold, he bowed his head to the ground.
"Father." Jiuzhu knelt beside Ming Jingzhou, her tender yet firm hand supporting his arm.
Ming Jingzhou looked at his daughter’s still-youthful face. After rising to send off Li En and the ceremonial guards, he sat down in front of Jiuzhu. "Jiuzhu, do you like Prince Chen?"
Jiuzhu nodded. Prince Chen was kind, and Consort Su was thoughtful. She liked them both very much.
"I understand." Ming Jingzhou fell silent for a long moment. "You are the treasure of the Ming family. No matter what happens, your mother and I will never let you suffer any grievances."
"I know." Jiuzhu hugged Lady Shen's arm. "You are the best father and mother in the world."
She had been abandoned far away for so long, yet they had searched for her day after day, never giving up, never forgetting.
Winter had arrived. Prince Chen, wrapped in the morning mist, sat in his carriage leaning against a soft cushion, his face expressionless.
The clip-clop of the horse's hooves did nothing to dispel the weariness in his heart. He could hardly believe he had gotten up so early just to go to the Ministry of Rites to learn how to handle affairs.
"Your Highness." The carriage came to a halt, and a servant whispered from outside: "Someone is blocking the road ahead."
Prince Chen lifted the carriage curtain and peered at the figure in the mist.
"Your Highness." Jiuzhu turned around, bouncing on her toes a couple of times before waving at Prince Chen in the carriage.
What is this silly girl doing here? Prince Chen didn’t even use the step stool. He jumped straight out of the carriage and strode over to Jiuzhu. "The mist is so heavy this morning. What are you doing here?"
"I was waiting for you, Your Highness." Jiuzhu pulled out a scroll case she had been hiding behind her back. "At Consort Su's birthday banquet, I noticed you liked the carp design on my forehead. So, I painted a koi fish scroll for you."
Taking the scroll case, still warm from Jiuzhu’s hands, Prince Chen sighed. "The morning mist is thick and the dew is heavy. You could have brought this any other time. Why wait here so early?"
"Official duties come first. Your Highness is always busy with matters at the Ministry of Rites. How could I disturb you?" Jiuzhu smiled brightly. "Now that I’ve delivered the painting, I’ll head home."
Prince Chen looked at Jiuzhu’s hair, damp from the mist, and the tip of her nose, red from the cold wind. "Wait."
"What is it, Your Highness?" Jiuzhu looked up at him.
Pulling out a handkerchief, Prince Chen awkwardly wiped the moisture from her hair. After a few swipes, he stuffed the handkerchief into Jiuzhu’s hand and turned his head away, gruffly saying, "Your hair is wet. Dry it yourself."
Then, he went back to the carriage and fetched a small hand warmer, pressing it into Jiuzhu’s hands. "Go home early. There are some matters at the Ministry of Rites that can’t be handled without me."
