Jiuzhu felt that the Princess Consort of Qi might have some enormous misunderstanding about her. She had merely glanced at the Prince of Qi County unintentionally before their departure, yet the way the Princess Consort looked at her suggested she feared Jiuzhu might devour the prince whole.
As they left, the petite Princess Consort even seemed determined to shield the Prince of Qi County entirely with her own delicate frame.
But Jiuzhu was a proper young woman raised in a Taoist temple—she didn’t eat people.
"Your Highness," Jiuzhu rubbed her sleepy eyes, pushing aside the Princess Consort's misconception, and turned to Prince Chen. "I’ll escort you to the gate now."
"No need," Prince Chen took one look at her barely-open eyes and sighed. "Go back, wash up, and sleep. I can leave on my own."
"I can’t. I promised to see you out." Jiuzhu stepped ahead of him and glanced back. "Come on."
"Slow down—there are steps ahead." Seeing her near the edge of the stairs, Prince Chen quickly grabbed her sleeve. "Fine, fine, you win. Let’s go."
If she really tripped and started crying in front of him, that would be far more troublesome.
"My Lady," Xiangjuan whispered to Consort Su. "Shall I escort His Highness out?"
"Are the lanterns overhead bright?" Consort Su countered.
"Very bright," Xiangjuan nodded.
"Exactly." Consort Su stretched lazily. "Let’s go back to sleep."
Why meddle in young people’s affairs?
"Your Highness," Jiuzhu shivered slightly as the cold wind outside the palace gates woke her fully. "Be careful on your way."
"Don’t worry." Prince Chen glanced at the palanquin already waiting for him. "Go back and sleep."
"Mmm." Jiuzhu smiled back at him as he grinned at her.
She leaned against the palace gate, watching his palanquin depart, her gaze drifting absently to the lanterns swaying under the eaves.
At first, all she had wanted was for Prince Chen and Consort Su to be well—nothing more.
But now… why did she feel so upset with him, even though he was so kind?
From his palanquin, Prince Chen looked back—the girl was still standing there.
A few moments later, he turned again. She hadn’t moved, still lost in thought.
"Stop." Seeing the night mist thickening, he leapt down and strode back to her.
"Your Highness?" Jiuzhu blinked in surprise as Prince Chen reappeared before her. "Why did you come back?"
Her dazed expression softened his heart. "Go to bed early. I’ll fetch you first thing tomorrow to visit Zhangliu Palace."
She was already this clingy when he was only leaving for a night—what would she be like after they married? A little shadow, trailing behind him endlessly.
Jiuzhu stared blankly at him.
"Go inside." Prince Chen crossed his arms. "I won’t leave until I see you climb those steps."
Jiuzhu turned and walked through the gate. After a few steps, she glanced back—he was still there.
Afraid he’d stand there all night, she hiked up her skirts and scurried up the stairs before turning to look at the gate again.
"I’m leaving now." Prince Chen waved breezily, took a step, then turned back once more. "Don’t stand there spacing out. Go to bed immediately—understand?"
Jiuzhu nodded.
Satisfied, Prince Chen smiled, his black cloak sweeping dramatically behind him in the night breeze.
"Your Highness," a eunuch bowed as Prince Chen settled back into the palanquin. "Shall we return to Zhangliu Palace?"
"No." Prince Chen looked toward Taiyang Palace, its lights still burning in the distance. "Take me to Taiyang Palace. I wish to see His Majesty."
Emperor Longfeng had just finished reviewing the last memorial when he considered visiting Bright Moon Palace—only to remember that Consort Su had been spending time with the Ming family girl lately and didn’t want him interrupting. Resigned, he sighed and prepared to retire to his cold, imperial bed.
"Your Majesty, Prince Chen requests an audience."
"Chen’er wants to see me?" Emperor Longfeng frowned. Had he quarreled with his brothers again?
"Bring him in." After a pause, he added to Liu Zhongbao, "Have the maids prepare the side chamber. The prince will stay here tonight."
Taiyang Palace was quite far from Zhangliu Palace, after all.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Liu Zhongbao withdrew. Since the emperor’s accession, only Consort Su and Prince Chen had ever been permitted to stay overnight in Taiyang Palace.
To Emperor Longfeng’s surprise, his son neither came to complain nor ask for money. Instead, Prince Chen earnestly discussed Hongwen Academy and the snow disasters in Youzhou.
Though some of his views were still naive, the emperor was delighted to see his usually pleasure-seeking son finally take an interest in governance. He felt so invigorated, he could’ve stayed up all night reviewing memorials.
"The Minister of Justice is elderly and has thrice petitioned to retire. Who do you think should replace him?"
"Minister Chen Zhixing of Personnel. True, he has a habit of threatening to dash his brains out in remonstration, but he’s fair and principled—ideal for overseeing justice."
The Ministry of Justice governed the nation’s penal laws. Only the upright could hold such power.
"And if he moves to Justice, who would lead Personnel?" Emperor Longfeng pressed.
"Father has forgotten someone." Prince Chen coughed lightly. "Not that I’m lobbying for the Ming family, but Ming Jinghai is the best candidate."
"Good." Emperor Longfeng beamed. "A ruler must know how to appoint the right people. A tailor measures before cutting cloth; an emperor stitches the fabric of the realm. One misstep, and the people suffer. You’ve considered both competence and character—excellent."
He handed Prince Chen two appointment decrees—one naming Chen Zhixing as Minister of Justice, the other Ming Jinghai as Minister of Personnel.
"You’ve grown much lately." Leaning back, Emperor Longfeng chuckled. "Had I known betrothal would spur your diligence, I’d have found you a wife sooner."
"Wives aren’t so easily chosen." Prince Chen scratched his nose. "None of the noble girls in the capital interest me."
"Oh?" The emperor arched a brow. "So the Ming girl stands apart?"
For once, Prince Chen didn’t refute the teasing.
"That Ming girl… she’s too naive, too trusting. She believes whatever I say, eats whatever I offer. I doubt she’d even recognize if someone mocked her." Though his words were critical, his expression softened. "With Father and Consort Su shielding me, my past frivolities didn’t matter. But I can’t let her—after marrying me—lose her innocence and joy to others’ scorn."
He sighed into his calming tea. "The thought of it… unsettles me. At the very least, when she becomes my princess consort, no one should pity her for choosing wrongly."
Whenever he thought of Jiuzhu’s bright, joyful smile fading even a little, his heart grew restless and heavy with unease.
“Whatever the other princess consorts have, she shall not lack a single thing,” Prince Chen took a sip of tea. Though they weren’t yet married, he was already thinking about how Jiuzhu would interact with her sisters-in-law. “And what others don’t have, she shall possess as well.”
“Achieving that won’t be easy,” Emperor Longfeng chuckled. “To become a prince praised by many, you’ll have much to learn. Aren’t you afraid of the hardship?”
“Of course I am,” Prince Chen sighed. “But I’m a grown man—how could I let a lively, happy girl become dull and joyless after marrying me?”
“At the very least… I must try.” He lifted the teacup and drained it in one gulp, as if steeling his resolve. “Father, please teach me.”
“Do you fancy the Ming family’s little girl that much?” Emperor Longfeng asked, feigning casualness.
“Fancy her?” Prince Chen raised the cup to his lips again, only to find it empty. “This is merely… a man’s duty.”
Emperor Longfeng smiled but didn’t expose his son’s flimsy lie.
When a man willingly starts doing what he once avoided—all for a woman—what else could it be but love? Unless he’s striving for a medal in good deeds?
“Mm,” Emperor Longfeng nodded. “My son ought to uphold a man’s responsibilities.”
He retrieved a thick stack of books and placed them before Prince Chen.
“Father, what are these?”
“Historical records.” The emperor smiled. “Later generations learn from history; the sorrows of predecessors serve as lessons, so we do not repeat their mistakes.”
“But…” Prince Chen flipped open one of the books and showed the contents to the emperor. “These are imperial annals—biographies of emperors.”
“Indeed. Most emperors were once princes before ascending the throne.” Emperor Longfeng patted his son’s shoulder. “I trust my son will glean many insights from them.”
Prince Chen eyed him skeptically. Really?
The emperor nodded. Harsh and exhausting as it may be, I believe in you. You’re my finest.
In the end, Prince Chen left for the side hall of Taiyang Palace, arms laden with history books. Even in his dreams, piles of tomes threatened him—study hard, or they’d bully Jiuzhu and make her cry.
The next morning, Prince Chen jolted awake in a daze and called to Liu Zhongbao waiting outside his bed curtains. “Eunuch Liu, summon the attendants. I must dress.”
“Your Highness, it’s still early. Wouldn’t you like to rest longer?” Liu Zhongbao was surprised—since when did His Highness rise at this hour?
“No more sleep.” Prince Chen swung his legs out of bed and shoved his feet into his boots. “I’m going to Bright Moon Palace later.”
Liu Zhongbao and the other eunuchs entered to assist him with his morning ablutions.
“Your Highness, His Majesty issued an edict to the rear palace today,” Liu Zhongbao said as he combed Prince Chen’s hair. “Consort Ning of Lanzhou Palace committed a grave offense, but in consideration of her bearing a prince, His Majesty stripped only her title, demoting her to Noble Lady Ning and relocating her to Qianyi Pavilion.”
Qianyi Pavilion—the rear palace’s unofficial cold palace.
Prince Chen arched a brow. Did Mother act this swiftly?
“His Majesty also said that if Your Highness has any doubts, you may accompany this old servant to the Dragon Guard’s dungeon.” Liu Zhongbao secured the jade crown in place and stepped back with a smile. “There might be matters of interest to you.”
He retrieved a thick stack of papers from his sleeve and presented it to Prince Chen. “The contents have been reviewed by both His Majesty and Consort Su.”
Prince Chen accepted it but didn’t open it immediately. “Why give this to me?”
“His Majesty said you’ve grown up.” Liu Zhongbao smiled. “The first duty of a father to a son seeking maturity is to conceal nothing.”
Prince Chen unfolded the papers—inside were densely packed reports from the Dragon Guard, generations of imperial secrets, intelligence on royal spies, and…
He snapped the documents shut and inhaled sharply, lifting his gaze to Liu Zhongbao’s ever-smiling face.
This wasn’t a father’s honesty—this was forcing a sapling into a tree!
Since when should an unwed prince be reading such things?!
