The crown prince had entered the palace alongside the officials from the six ministries, but when they left, only the officials remained.
Their expressions were grave as they exited Taiyang Palace in silence, no one daring to speak. They walked wordlessly past Yingtian Gate, through the outer palace square, and were about to exit Zhuque Gate when the Minister of Justice finally broke the silence: "Colleagues, what do you think His Majesty intends..."
"His Majesty's actions are always well-considered," Li En replied with a respectful bow. "The Emperor's paternal heart is evident. After the assassination attempt on Prince Qi, how could he possibly feel at ease letting the princes and princesses reside outside the palace?"
"Minister Li speaks wisely," the Minister of Revenue sighed. "Though housing adult princes and princesses within the palace goes against ancestral customs, His Majesty's devotion to his children is truly touching."
The other officials echoed praises for the Emperor's affection toward his children. Once they passed through Zhuque Gate, each boarded their respective ministry's carriage and went their separate ways.
Li En, Ming Jingzhou, and Zhou Rui boarded the Ministry of Rites' carriage. The moment they exchanged glances, their polite smiles vanished.
"This incident has far-reaching consequences," Li En sighed. "His Majesty summoning all the princes and princesses into the palace suggests his fury has reached its peak. Though we officials often quarrel over differing political views, becoming entangled in schemes against the imperial bloodline would be disastrous."
"Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind," Ming Jingzhou leaned back calmly against the carriage wall. "There’s no need to overthink it, Minister."
Li En sighed again. After serving together for so many years, even a roadside wildflower, if seen daily for over a decade, would evoke some sentiment—let alone living, breathing men.
"Stop the carriage," Zhou Rui suddenly said, spotting a shop selling colored threads. He smiled sheepishly. "Gentlemen, forgive me for the delay. I’d like to buy some threads for my wife."
"By all means, Brother Zhou," Ming Jingzhou lifted the curtain for him. After Zhou Rui stepped out, he turned to Li En. "Minister, why did you side with Prince Chen?"
Li En chuckled. "Do you know what I saw in His Highness Prince Chen?"
Ming Jingzhou remained silent.
Unbothered by the lack of response, Li En stroked his beard thoughtfully. "That day, when I accompanied Prince Chen on an inspection of Hongwen Academy, I glimpsed in him the untainted heart of a young man."
Ming Jingzhou’s fingers brushed against the book hidden in his sleeve—one he had intended to give Prince Chen but never had the chance.
"Benevolence is the mark of a true ruler. Before one can become a great emperor, one must possess an innate purity toward all living things," Li En said frankly. "Twenty-five years ago, I saw this purity in His Majesty. To my surprise, a quarter-century later, I found it again in Prince Chen, the most scandal-ridden of all princes."
"Minister," Ming Jingzhou paused before speaking. "Our loyalty lies with His Majesty."
"Of course, we are loyal to His Majesty—and to the people of this realm," Li En replied mildly, lowering his gaze. "Assisting Prince Chen and honing his governance skills is precisely what His Majesty expects of the Ministry of Rites. We are merely following orders."
"I would have thought you’d favor Prince Qi," Ming Jingzhou mused, lifting the curtain to listen to the street vendors' calls with relaxed amusement.
"A man who relies solely on rituals and rules to restrain himself—what happens when those constraints vanish? No one can predict the outcome."
History held no shortage of rulers who were once paragons of virtue in their youth, only to reveal their tyrannical natures upon ascending the throne.
"Only those who retain their innate kindness after enduring worldly temptations are heaven’s true gift to the people."
Ming Jingzhou bowed slightly. "May the great dynasty be blessed with wise rulers who safeguard the people’s peace and prosperity."
"Gentlemen," Zhou Rui re-entered the carriage, lifting the curtain. "Apologies for keeping you waiting."
"Not at all," Li En steadied him with a hand. "Perfect timing."
Meanwhile, back at home, Lady Shen heard the news of all the princes and princesses being summoned to the palace. She called Jiuzhu over and recounted the events.
"The allure of imperial power is perilous," Lady Shen patted Jiuzhu’s hand. "You must be extra cautious from now on."
"His Majesty confining them all in the palace and replacing their attendants is for their protection," Jiuzhu sipped the nourishing soup Lady Shen had prepared. "Though it disrupts whatever schemes the princes had, none now know each other’s plans—so in a way, they’re all safer."
"Perhaps His Majesty simply wishes to protect them," Jiuzhu set the empty bowl down earnestly. "Living in the palace means no worries about food, shelter, or schemes—how wonderful."
"Oh," she added brightly, "if their expenses come from the Emperor’s private coffers, it’ll save a fortune too!"
Lady Shen blinked in realization. "You’re right. Maybe His Majesty just wants to keep them alive."
Behind the title of Emperor, he was still a father.
For days, Ming Jingzhou noticed his daughter’s unusual attentiveness the moment he returned home. She’d repeatedly ask when he’d next enter the palace.
"Jiuzhu," Ming Jingzhou set down his teacup—his third refill, courtesy of her. Though he hated to disappoint her, he couldn’t drink another drop. "Is there something you need me to do?"
Jiuzhu fidgeted. "Well... a small favor. If you’re going to the palace soon, could you deliver something for me?"
"For Prince Chen?" Ming Jingzhou wondered if the tea had gone sour—it tasted oddly acidic.
"Just a painting," Jiuzhu twisted her sleeve. "I promised it to His Highness. I can’t let him down."
"A painting?" Ming Jingzhou’s pause made Jiuzhu anxious before he asked, tone peculiar, "You painted it?"
"Yes," Jiuzhu hurried to the door, took a scroll from Chunfen, and returned. "Mother says my style resembles yours."
His... style?
Ming Jingzhou sipped tea to mask his discomfort. "She said that?"
"Mm-hmm!" Jiuzhu unrolled the scroll eagerly. "Father, does it look like your work?"
The painting, titled *Red Plum in Snow*, resembled more like *Withered Branches in a Desert*. Ming Jingzhou took a reflexive gulp of tea. "Daughter... has Prince Chen seen this yet?"
"It’s a surprise! Of course not." She glanced between the painting and him. "Father, does it really have your flair?"
"It... certainly does," Ming Jingzhou recalled his own youthful artistic delusions and felt a pang of guilt.
Like father, like daughter. The fault was his.
"Ahem." He smiled benevolently. "Do you think Prince Chen will like it?"
"Absolutely!" Jiuzhu rolled the scroll with confidence. "Last time I gave him a painting, he treasured it."
"Understood." Ming Jingzhou nodded. "Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll deliver it when I see His Majesty."
"Thank you, Father!" Jiuzhu hurriedly handed the painting tube to Ming Jingzhou. "You're the best father in the world."
Ming Jingzhou sighed. His daughter's sweet talk didn’t come from him but rather from her mother.
Back in the day, his paintings had also been lavishly praised by his wife as unparalleled under heaven—until their family was exiled to the borderlands. When he tried to sell his paintings, no one bought them, and only then did he soberly recognize his artistic skill.
Ah, who knew how many fresh compliments his wife had concocted over the years just to praise all those paintings of his.
Looking down at the painting tube in his hand, Ming Jingzhou smiled. "Our Jiuzhu’s painting is a rare treasure under heaven. His Highness will surely adore it."
---
"Ugh." Prince Chen crawled out of bed and let the eunuchs dress and freshen him up. "Why does it feel especially cold today?"
"Your Highness, this white fur robe was just delivered to your palace. Would you like to try it on?"
Prince Chen pulled on the robe and lazily reclined on the daybed. In the short span of two incense sticks' worth of time, he had already shifted restlessly through several positions.
Before, he had to report to the Ministry of Rites every morning, shuffling around here and there, which he found tedious and bothersome. But now, lying idle in the palace with nothing to worry about, he somehow felt bored.
He had the young eunuch bring him a few storybooks. After flipping through a couple of pages, he couldn’t help but think that, had he been at the Ministry of Rites by now, he’d already be copying texts.
If he hadn’t entered the palace, Minister Ming would probably be preparing new materials for him to copy.
"Your Highness?" The young eunuch, seeing Prince Chen stop after just two pages, asked nervously, "Shall this servant fetch you different books?"
"No need." Prince Chen tossed the book aside. "This prince has no interest in such trivial reading."
With that, he strode out of the courtyard. Crossing the gate into the grand garden outside the Zhangliu Palace, he spotted Prince An and Prince Jing propping up a basket with a stick, scattering millet beneath it.
"What are you two brothers up to in the middle of winter?" Prince Chen walked past the basket, "accidentally" knocking it over. "Oh dear, it was an honest mistake. Surely my elder brothers won’t hold it against me?"
He glanced up at the chirping birds on the tree branches. *I’ve just saved your lives—now fly far away, won’t you?*
The two princes stared at the stick Prince Chen had kicked far away, then dropped the rope tied to it. "Fifth Brother jests. How could we dare blame you?"
"Good." Prince Chen nodded in satisfaction. *They’d better not.*
Prince An felt his fists tighten. He glanced at Prince Jing, who was watching the sparrows flitting overhead with a regretful expression.
"I wonder how Fourth Brother’s injuries are faring?" Prince Chen clasped his hands behind his back and turned to his brothers. "Second Brother, Third Brother, have you visited him yet?"
"It’s still early. We didn’t want to disturb him," Prince An said after a pause. "Shall we go together?"
"Very well." Prince Chen looked around, casually snapped off a twig with two half-yellowed leaves stubbornly clinging to it, and shook it to dust it off—only for one leaf to flutter pathetically to the ground.
"No need for formal gifts among brothers. The thought counts." He waved the remaining leaf. "This will add a rustic charm to a vase."
Prince An and Prince Jing exchanged silent glances.
They strongly suspected Yun Duqing wasn’t visiting Yun Yanze to wish him well—but to send him off to the afterlife.
Alas, Prince Chen remained oblivious. He cheerfully carried the nearly barren twig into Prince Qi’s courtyard.
"Your Highnesses, Prince An, Prince Jing, and Prince Chen have arrived."
Sun Caiyao set down the medicine bowl, wiped Prince Qi’s lips, and exchanged a glance with him. "Please invite them in," Prince Qi said gently.
"Your injuries haven’t healed yet. Rest properly." Sun Caiyao rose. "I’ll greet them."
Lifting the curtain, she saw Prince Chen leading the other two inside. Her gaze lingered briefly on his white fur robe before she lowered her eyes. "Your Highnesses, please come in."
"Fourth Sister-in-law, no need for formalities." Prince Chen handed her the twig. "Here, a little decoration for Fourth Brother’s room."
The moment Sun Caiyao took it, the last struggling leaf made a final, desperate flutter before surrendering to the floor.
Prince An stared at the dead leaf and the now-bare branch in Sun Caiyao’s hand, silently willing her to whip Yun Duqing across the face with it.
But Sun Caiyao, ever the poised noblewoman, simply smiled. "Thank you for your thoughtful gift, Fifth Brother. I’ll place it in His Highness’s room for him to admire."
"Fourth Sister-in-law, after you." Prince Chen strode into Prince Qi’s chamber and pointed at a tall vase opposite the bed. "That one looks perfect. Put it there."
The ever-graceful Sun Caiyao’s hand trembled slightly. "...Very well."
Once the twig was lodged in the vase, Prince Chen nodded in approval. "It suits the room." He turned to Prince Qi. "Don’t you think so, Fourth Brother?"
Prince Qi’s gaze lingered on the vase. "If it pleases you, Fifth Brother."
*Did Yun Duqing bring this dead branch just to mock my injuries?*
Since childhood, his precious fifth brother had flaunted their father’s favor with these thinly veiled provocations.
"Since Fourth Brother likes my gift, of course I’m pleased." Prince Chen settled into a chair, studying Prince Qi’s pallid face. "Has your wound improved?"
"Much better." Prince Qi coughed weakly. "Second Brother, Third Brother, please sit. Forgive me for not greeting you properly."
"Brothers need no formalities." Prince An studied Prince Qi’s complexion. "The assassin who wounded you has been sentenced to execution. Rest easy."
"Thank you for your concern." Prince Qi’s gaze flickered between them.
*Is the mastermind among these three?*
"Fourth Brother’s injury is external—why the cough?" Prince Chen summoned a eunuch. "Fetch the imperial physician at once!"
He adjusted Prince Qi’s blanket with a press of his hand. "Our bodies are gifts from our parents. You mustn’t neglect your health."
*Pain.*
Prince Qi’s face whitened instantly. *This bastard Yun Duqing just pressed on my wound!*
Before long, Prince Huai arrived with a gift—marginally more generous: a box of ginseng pills.
"All my younger brothers are here?" He handed the pills to a eunuch and approached the bed. "Fourth Brother, your blanket isn’t even properly tucked—"
"No need for help, Eldest Brother. I can manage." Prince Qi eyed him warily.
"Why stand on ceremony?" Prince Huai leaned down and firmly smoothed the blanket over Prince Qi’s chest—ignoring his sharp gasp. "Ah, how careless of me. I forgot your wound is there."
Prince Qi inhaled sharply.
*Yun Liu'an, you son of a bitch!*
Prince Huai straightened up and took a seat beside Prince Chen.
*Judging by Yun Yanze’s expression, his injury is real.*
**Who on earth did this?** Did he not anticipate that His Majesty would confine them all to the palace over this matter?
At first, he suspected it was a self-inflicted scheme by **Yun Yanze**, but upon hearing palace servants mention that **Emperor Longfeng** had ordered a thorough investigation of **Prince Qi**'s residence and the **Zheng family**, he knew **Yun Yanze** couldn’t possibly be behind it.
He wasn’t that foolish.
He turned to glance at **Prince Chen**, who raised an eyebrow at him in return.
It couldn’t be **Yun Duqing** either—favored by the emperor, he had no need for such schemes. Even without lifting a finger, he outshone his brothers.
Could it be **Prince An** or **Prince Jing**?
Those two had always been mediocre and unremarkable—where would they find the audacity to orchestrate something like this?
*"What a rare gathering of us five brothers."* **Yun Duqing** suddenly spoke up. *"It’s cold today—why don’t we all share a hotpot here at Fourth Brother’s place?"*
**Prince Huai** turned to look at **Prince Qi**, still bedridden. Weren’t the injured supposed to avoid spicy food?
*"Fifth Brother has a fine idea!"* **Prince Huai** clapped his hands and laughed. *"This elder brother will have the servants prepare it at once."*
Confined within the cramped **Zhangliu Palace**, forbidden from even stepping beyond the palace gates, life was unbearably dull. They had to find some amusement.
An hour later, the scent of hotpot filled the room. **Prince Qi**, lying in bed, watched the four of them gathered around the table, chopsticks flying and cups clinking. He resisted the urge to grab his pillow and hurl it at them.
*A pack of damned bastards!*
Once they had eaten their fill, **Prince Chen** stood and draped his white fur cloak over his shoulders. Smiling at **Prince Qi**, he said, *"Fourth Brother, your complexion looks much livelier with our company. In that case, we’ll visit you again tomorrow."*
*"Indeed, don’t worry, Fourth Brother."* **Prince Huai** nodded. *"We’ll come see you often until you’ve fully recovered."*
**Prince Qi** forced a smile, though his eyes burned with barely concealed murderous intent.
*"Then I must thank my dear brothers for your kindness."* His voice was soft and gentle again. *"It’s all my fault for failing to see through the assassin’s plot, worrying His Majesty so. But perhaps this is for the best—it’s just like when we were children, all living together again."*
At these words, **Prince Huai**’s smile vanished.
True—if not for **Yun Yanze**’s assassination attempt, they wouldn’t be trapped in the palace.
If he ever found out which idiot had pulled this reckless stunt, he’d make sure their head rolled.
News of the events at **Zhangliu Palace** soon reached **Emperor Longfeng**. Instead of anger, he laughed and summoned **Liu Zhongbao**. *"Duqing enjoys hotpot—have the Imperial Household Department send more fresh ingredients to **Zhangliu Palace**’s kitchen. Especially his favorite dishes—ensure they’re never in short supply."*
*"Your Majesty need not worry. This old servant has already made the arrangements."* **Liu Zhongbao** bowed as he ground ink for the emperor. *"Your Majesty, all the maids and eunuchs from the princes’ and princesses’ residences have been confined together. The rest of the servants are also under house arrest, guarded strictly by the Imperial Guards."*
*"Hmm."* Noticing **Liu Zhongbao**’s hesitation, the emperor asked, *"Has something else happened?"*
*"This servant heard that two servants from **Prince Qi**’s maternal family, the **Zhengs**, fled with their master’s jewels. The **Zheng family** is now searching everywhere for them."* **Liu Zhongbao** chuckled. *"Many in the capital are mocking the **Zhengs** for failing to control their own servants."*
*"When did they disappear?"*
*"Last night, perhaps?"* **Liu Zhongbao** smiled. *"This old servant only caught whispers of it—the details remain unclear."*
*"You crafty old fox."* **Emperor Longfeng** set down his brush and laughed. *"Summon the Imperial Dragon Guards."*
The Imperial Dragon Guards—elite soldiers who answered only to the emperor, rarely deployed unless absolutely necessary.
*"Find those two runaway servants of the **Zheng family** and bring them to me."* The emperor’s voice turned cold. *"I, too, wish to see what treacherous, oath-breaking scum looks like."*
---
After breakfast, **Jiuzhu** was dragged out by **Zhou Xiao**.
*"Sister Zhou."* **Jiuzhu** glanced at **Zhou Xiao**, panting heavily, and reached out to steady her. *"Should we have someone carry you up on a sedan chair?"*
*"No!"* **Zhou Xiao** shook her head stubbornly, still catching her breath. *"To seek a protective charm, one must walk to the temple with sincerity. Only then will the gods listen."*
*"Fine."* **Jiuzhu** sighed in resignation, pulling her along step by step. Behind them trailed a crowd of maids and guards—less like pilgrims and more like a mob ready to dismantle the temple.
*"Little Sister, are you sure there are really eminent monks in this remote wilderness?"* **Zhou Shucheng**, sweating and out of breath, eyed **Jiuzhu**—who showed no signs of fatigue—with disbelief. *How is a grown man like me being outwalked by a teenage girl?*
*"Yes!"* **Zhou Xiao** nodded firmly. *"I’ve heard this mountain temple houses several venerable monks. Their protective charms are especially potent. I want to get one for Father, Mother… and, well, **Sixth Young Master Ming** too."*
Maybe with a charm, he wouldn’t keep tripping and injuring his legs.
**Zhou Shucheng**: *"..."*
*"Incidentally"* for **Ming Cunfu**?
It was clearly for **Ming Cunfu** that he was suffering this torment!
**Jiuzhu** hesitated but chose not to mention that protective charms were more a Daoist specialty—orthodox Buddhist monks typically didn’t make them.
*"There!"* **Zhou Xiao** pointed ahead. *"I see the temple! Sister, pull me up!"*
Watching **Zhou Xiao**’s trembling legs yet unyielding determination, **Jiuzhu** silently vowed: *If **Sixth Brother Ming** ever dares to wrong Sister Zhou, I’ll break his legs myself.*
*"Wait for me!"* **Zhou Shucheng** leaned on his servant’s shoulder, gasping. *"You two—slow down! Have mercy on a man’s pride!"*
The servants half-dragged, half-carried him to the temple gates.
The temple was even shabbier than expected—a rusted bell hung from a tree, coated in dust. Fallen leaves littered the courtyard, though not yet swept away.
*"Buddha forgive us, Buddha forgive us."* **Zhou Shucheng** bowed hastily toward the shrine. *"Is anyone here?"*
When no one answered, he signaled a servant.
*"Venerable Master!"* the servant bellowed. *"We come with sincere devotion—and alms for the temple!"*
*"Amitabha."* A monk in patched robes emerged, bowing. *"Esteemed patrons, please enter."*
**Zhou Shucheng**, noting the monk’s sturdy build and steady gait, asked suspiciously, *"Master, are you a martial monk?"*
Would a martial monk even know how to draw charms?
*"Patron jokes."* The monk clasped his hands. *"This humble monk tends the fields, fetches water, and sweeps the temple daily. Labor strengthens the body."*
*"Ah, of course."* **Zhou Shucheng** nodded, stepping forward—only for **Jiuzhu** to block his path.
*"Wait."* She turned to the monk. *"Were you about to leave, Master?"*
*"Why would this monk leave?"* He smiled. *"I reside here in solitude."*
"If the Master never leaves the temple, why are you wearing the ancestral kasaya robe?" Jiuzhu shielded Zhou Xiao behind her, her usually sweet face now stern. "Buddhist monks devote themselves to quiet cultivation, detached from worldly matters. They would never wear the ancestral kasaya except for important occasions like dharma assemblies or scripture lectures."
Zhou Xiao glanced at Jiuzhu, surprised to see such solemnity in her expression.
With a gesture, Jiuzhu ordered the guards of the Zhou and Ming families to surround the temple gates, ensuring not even a mosquito could escape. Only then did she speak with certainty: "You are not a true monk."
