Chapter 3

There was still some time before dinner. Meng Cenzheng returned to the southern courtyard to complain to Madam Meng. With him gone, Meng Xizhao felt a little lighter. He had the maids bring a bronze mirror and examined his appearance.

He was not as imposing as Meng Cenzheng, not as elegant as Madam Meng, not as refined as his eldest brother, and not as stunning as his younger sister.

In short, the least distinctive in the family.

Of course, compared to the “overpowered” Meng family, but taken alone, Meng Xizhao was a handsome young man: red lips, white teeth, a sunny smile, and even a hint of fresh charm.

He studied his reflection and nodded in satisfaction. Men didn’t need to be too beautiful; they just had to look decent.

He then began removing clusters of silk flowers from his hair.

In Daqi, men wore flowers on special occasions, like passing imperial exams or wedding parades. Otherwise, only street vendors, eunuchs, or vain men would wear them.

Removing the silk flowers, Meng Xizhao felt two pounds lighter, proudly raised his head, and ordered the maids: “Throw them all away.”

The maids obeyed silently; they didn’t try to stop him. Their master was unpredictable, and they were used to it.

Though surrounded by beautiful women, they were only servants; there was no relationship beyond master and servant. Madam Meng managed the household strictly—no one dared misbehave.

With the flowers gone, the bump on his forehead from the Ningyuan young master’s blow became more obvious. Luckily, it had been that weak young master; otherwise, Meng Xizhao might never have regained consciousness.

After fixing his hair, he went to the southern courtyard to eat with his parents. Regardless of the family’s reputation outside, behind closed doors they were harmonious. Meals were shared; if someone couldn’t join, servants delivered the same dishes for formality.

The food was ready, and Meng Xizhao was last. Seeing him remove the flowers, the four of them were momentarily stunned, but they said nothing and simply invited him to sit.

The Meng family had a mysterious indulgence toward Meng Xizhao.

When he was a baby, a master at Jiming Temple had given a prophecy: he would live a chaotic, drifting life, never understanding life, and die young.

The people of this era were superstitious. With this prophecy, Madam Meng cried for three days holding baby Meng Xizhao, then accepted it. Royal children often died young; raising a child successfully was rare.

From then on, no one interfered with Meng Xizhao. His parents had only one requirement: be happy.

His eldest brother and younger sister were the same; since understanding things, they indulged him in everything and rarely argued.

Now, Meng Xizhao: “……”

He wondered which master had issued the prophecy.

Accurate! The fate of the Second Young Master of Meng was indeed like this, dying without knowing how. But what did that prophecy have to do with Meng Xizhao?

He calmly accepted Madam Meng’s motherly care and ate the dishes she passed him.

His younger sister winked: “Second Brother, are you feeling better?”

Madam Meng said: “Jiao Jiao, don’t disturb your brother while he eats.”

The little girl’s given name was Meng Qingshu; Jiao Jiao was her nickname. In this era, girls doted on by their families often had nicknames like this, widely used, similar to later “Nannan.”

Meng Jiao Jiao pouted and said nothing. Seeing her look so wronged, Meng Xizhao picked up a piece of meat for her.

Meng Jiao Jiao was even more straightforward than Meng Xizhao; she ate it without saying thanks.

Looking at their parents and eldest brother, they seemed not to notice at all.

It wasn’t that they didn’t notice; this was their daily life. Meng Xizhao was indeed a lovesick playboy, but at home, he was still Jiao Jiao’s second brother. Even when visiting brothels outside, he always brought a warm treat back for his mother and sister.

Thinking of their fates in the book, Meng Xizhao felt even gloomier. Madam Meng had been executed by hanging, Meng Jiao Jiao had suffered the cruelty of the world, and though she was originally to be executed, a lustful man, drawn by her beauty, wanted her for his harem. Unable to bear such a fate, she committed suicide in prison.

Pushing the bowl around, Meng Xizhao realized he had no appetite.

The others didn’t speak but watched him closely. He had removed the flowers and forbidden the family to interfere; it felt different from before, and fearing he was upset, they hurriedly urged him to eat more.

Even Meng Jiao Jiao said, “Second Brother, are you still angry? No matter what, you can’t skip meals. Tomorrow is Second Sister’s coming-of-age ceremony. A few young ladies from the Ningyuan House will be there. Don’t worry—I’ll make sure they won’t get away, and you can vent your anger fully.”

Meng Xizhao stumbled, feeling endless desolation.

Little sister, could you stop making enemies for me?

Wiping a bitter tear in his heart, he glared and said, “If you still want to recognize me as your second brother, you better behave!”

After speaking, he ran off like the wind, leaving Meng Jiao Jiao and the family staring at each other.

“What’s wrong with Second Brother? He used to be happy when I helped him vent.”

Madam Meng couldn’t understand either: “Could it be he likes some young lady from the Ningyuan House?”

His eldest brother, knowing him best, shook his head: “Impossible. Those girls follow the Ningyuan House; they’re not attractive enough to catch Second Brother’s eye.”

The room was silent for a moment, then Meng Cenzheng voiced what everyone was thinking: “Then what is going on?”

The next day, those who had to attend court did, and those who had to study went to school.

Eldest brother Meng Xian’ang was now a student at the Taixue. He could have entered the Guozixue, but being too smart and with a father’s notorious reputation, he sensibly went to Taixue to earn favor for his father before the emperor and improve their image among the people, showing Meng Cenzheng’s skill in raising children.

The common people did not accept this. They thought Meng Xian’ang, a child of officials, should go to Guozixue. Now taking a Taixue seat, meant for commoners, was intolerable.

Well-intentioned but poorly executed, yet the emperor had already approved; he couldn’t transfer out and had to continue studying, participating in the imperial exams like the other students, unlike other official children who could become officials without taking exams.

The exams were two months away, and Madam Meng prayed daily for her son to achieve a good rank—a last-minute effort.

As for Meng Xizhao, he didn’t need to study. His main task was to laze at home. Every extra day he survived was a victory.

Meng Xizhao repeatedly told Meng Cenzheng not to interfere. Meng Cenzheng felt bitter, realizing his son’s wings were strong enough not to need his help.

Annoyed, he wore a sour expression. Yesterday’s incident had spread throughout Yingtian Prefecture; colleagues avoided it, unwilling to tempt fate.

Walking quickly without watching ahead, he nearly bumped into someone. A hand steadied him, preventing a collision.

A gentle voice spoke: “Meng Cenzheng, watch your step.”

Looking up, Meng Cenzheng nearly couldn’t hide his twisted expression.

Bowing, he politely said, “It is my fault, Your Highness. Please forgive me.”

The crown prince, with an androgynous yet striking appearance, looked unwell, giving his smile a delicate, slightly feminine quality. “It’s fine. Meng Cenzheng worries about his family; I understand.”

Meng Cenzheng: “……”

Good deeds never leave home; bad news spreads a thousand miles.

After a few more polite words, Meng Cenzheng stepped aside. Watching the crown prince leave, he exhaled lightly.

Today was unlucky; running into this person meant his father had to be cautious, no embellishments, no tricks.

At court, the emperor indeed mentioned Meng Xizhao being beaten and asked Meng Cenzheng: “Jiu Yu, is this true?”

Only ministers deeply trusted and favored by the emperor could be addressed by name—a sign of imperial favor and also of their infamy. In this dynasty, being called by name by the emperor meant a proven traitor.

The Ningyuan House panicked, cold sweat pouring, fearing doom. Yet Meng Jiu Yu did not press the matter, not only sparing the Ningyuan House but ensuring they could not retaliate.

Meng Jiu Yu: “It was only childish mischief between two families, a quarrel that turned physical. It’s not a serious matter.”

The entire court stared at him.

Did Meng Cenzheng come to court without thinking? Letting the person who beat his son go unpunished? Impossible—there must be follow-up.

Oh no, the Ningyuan House is doomed.

Not only the officials, even the Ningyuan House thought so. The lighter Meng Jiu Yu treated it, the more unstable their hearts became. Even though the emperor accepted this explanation, the cold sweat still streamed from them. Spring chills, they nearly drowned in the Chongzheng Hall.

After court, the Ningyuan Marquis rushed home anxiously and dragged the idle heir out of bed. “Ungrateful boy! Still sleeping at this hour? Aren’t you afraid Meng Jiu Yu will come and ransack the house?”

Fu Jicai, rudely woken, immediately flared up. “What’s the matter?”

The Marquis slapped him. “How dare you talk back! Come with me to the Cenzheng Mansion to apologize!”