In the briefest of moments, both of them reacted with astonishing speed.
The warmth in Xiao Ying’s eyes instantly vanished. The corners of his mouth curled up, and he slipped into his usual carefree, nonchalant smile, wearing the air of a dissolute playboy.
Consort Wan quickly wiped away the tears at the corners of her eyes, lowered her gaze, and returned to her familiar role in the palace: a gentle, virtuous consort who kept to herself and never fought for favor.
With perfect tacit understanding, the two of them discreetly put some distance between themselves.
The next moment, the emperor strode into Jinglan Court, his yellow imperial robes gleaming brilliantly and an invisible imperial majesty radiating from him.
The palace attendants serving in the courtyard immediately dropped to their knees. The air seemed to freeze. Not a soul dared breathe too loudly, afraid that the slightest misstep might provoke the emperor’s wrath and cost them their heads.
“Greetings, Your Majesty.”
Consort Wan and Xiao Ying bowed together, as elegant and docile as ever.
The emperor’s sharp gaze swept across the courtyard before passing briefly over Consort Wan and settling heavily on Xiao Ying.
His expressionless face remained impassive as he said calmly, “Rise.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The emperor seated himself in the main chair without waiting for anyone’s assistance, glancing at the still-warm tea and the pastries that had already been touched on the table.
“I did not come to disturb your reunion, mother and son. It has simply been some time since I last visited my beloved consort at Jinglan Court. I also heard that Ying’er had entered the palace today, so I thought I would stop by and see you.”
Stop by?
Consort Wan and Xiao Ying exchanged an unspoken, knowing sneer in their hearts.
How could the Son of Heaven possibly happen upon Jinglan Court so “coincidentally,” just as Xiao Ying entered the palace to pay his respects, unless he had been deliberately keeping track of his movements?
The emperor’s gaze then passed over the mother and son, who stood with their hands respectfully lowered, and settled on the well-maintained konghou harp in the corner of the hall.
Years ago, it had been Consort Wan’s breathtaking beauty and the clear, melodious music of her konghou that had captivated him and prompted him to bring her into the heavily guarded imperial palace.
Yet now, there was not the slightest trace of tender nostalgia in his eyes. All that remained was the lofty disdain and absolute control of an emperor.
He regarded the instrument as though inspecting an ordinary furnishing. His tone was calm, yet left no room for refusal.
“My beloved consort,” he began slowly, “it has been a long time since I last heard you play the konghou. Since Ying’er is here today, why don’t you play a piece? It will add some refinement to this mother-and-son reunion.”
The seemingly casual request made Consort Wan’s heart sink.
She knew the emperor was not reminiscing about the past. He was clearing the room and asserting his authority, ordering her to keep quiet and play music so that she could not interfere with the conversation to come.
Nevertheless, she dared not show the slightest defiance. She curtsied obediently and said gently, “As Your Majesty commands.”
Consort Wan walked stiffly to the konghou and sat down. After taking a deep breath, she raised her cool fingertips and plucked the strings.
The clear, crystalline music flowed through the oppressive room, but it could not conceal the faint, unspoken tension in the air.
Accompanied by the ethereal, lilting notes of the konghou, the emperor pointed to a chair nearby and said to Xiao Ying, “Sit.”
Once Xiao Ying had taken his seat, the emperor studied his face, which still bore traces of his recent illness, and asked with what appeared to be concern, “Are you feeling better?”
“Thank you for your concern, Father.”
Xiao Ying lowered his head slightly, his tone respectful.
“I have recovered considerably. That is why I dared to enter the palace to pay my respects to Mother Consort, so she would not continue worrying about me.”
The emperor merely glanced at him. As a measured note sounded from the konghou, he abruptly changed the subject.
“How exactly did you fall into the river?”
A hint of embarrassment appeared on Xiao Ying’s face. He gave a dry laugh before replying, “To answer Father’s question… I was greedy for drink that day and had a few too many cups. I can’t remember many of the details clearly. I only vaguely recall that the alcohol went to my head, so I went to the viewing corridor to get some fresh air. By the time I came to my senses, I was already choking in the icy water.”
It was exactly the same explanation he had given publicly before.
However, the emperor’s fingers tapped lightly against the armrest in time with the music, making it clear that he did not believe Xiao Ying had simply fallen into the river while drunk.
According to the intelligence he had received, after Xiao Ying was rescued and brought aboard the boat, he had been shivering violently from the cold, yet had still issued orderly commands for the captain of the Prince Yi’s residence guard to secure the vessel and record witness statements. Such decisive, composed conduct was hardly something a man dead drunk could manage.
The emperor did not expose him on the spot. Instead, he concluded in an even tone, “You are no longer a child. Stop spending every day with those disreputable friends of yours.”
“Father’s reprimand is justified. Your son has learned his lesson.”
Xiao Ying lowered his head and accepted the admonition.
“As for that pleasure boat…”
The emperor casually lifted his teacup and said indifferently, “I heard that the culprit who burned it has already been apprehended?”
Xiao Ying replied, “Your son only heard about it from the chief steward of my residence. Apparently, the culprit was a local ruffian with a drinking problem. He got drunk that night and, because he had previously had a dispute with the boatman over an unpaid tab, lost his temper and set the boat on fire.”
The emperor took a sip of tea and cast him a sidelong glance, his gaze sharp as lightning.
“Hmm. And what is your own opinion?”
Xiao Ying’s expression faltered slightly, as though the question had caught him off guard. He furrowed his brows and pondered for a moment before answering uncertainly.
“Your son… Your son simply feels that the timing of the two incidents was far too coincidental. I had only just fallen into the river and nearly lost my life, and the next thing I knew, that boat had been burned to ashes.”
“If your fall into the river was not an accident,” the emperor pressed, his voice growing heavier, “have you considered who in the capital might want you dead?”
Xiao Ying looked troubled. He gave a self-deprecating, bitter laugh.
“Your son has always been eager to stay as far away from political affairs as possible and has never made enemies among the court officials. If I truly have offended anyone… it was probably because I stole someone’s beloved from under their nose recently, getting in the way of certain powerful men’s romantic pursuits.”
The emperor continued tapping his fingers lightly against the armrest, neither confirming nor exposing the explanation.
His voice carried the authority and displeasure of an emperor.
“I heard about that, too. The person who rescued you from the water was a male courtesan?”
“To answer Father, yes.” Xiao Ying’s face immediately brightened at the mention of the person he loved.
“His name is Jun Yuexi. The situation was extremely dangerous at the time, but he disregarded his own safety and resolutely jumped into the freezing river to pull your son out.”
The emperor watched the smile on his face coldly before asking another question.
“I also heard that he was originally the second son of the Wu family, and that he was entered into the slave registry after his family was convicted of a crime?”
The moment those words were spoken, the air seemed to freeze.
Consort Wan’s fingertips trembled, and the music from her konghou faltered by half a beat, producing a discordant note.
Her heart missed a beat.
The emperor had already investigated Jun Yuexi’s true identity so thoroughly.
Without turning to look at Consort Wan, the emperor simply held his teacup and allowed the abrupt discord to fade into the silence.
Consort Wan hurriedly steadied herself, forcing her fingers to move across the strings again.
Xiao Ying, however, acted like a spoiled noble who had failed to catch the hidden implication. He nodded frankly.
“Your son only learned of it by chance on the day I fell into the river, from Young Master Xu, the son of the Assistant Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.”
“The Wu family’s crimes were conclusively proven at the time. Although they have long since been punished, and innocent children should not be made to suffer…”
The emperor’s tone hardened, carrying an unmistakable warning.
“He is still the descendant of a convicted criminal. You are a prince of the imperial house. You should have little to do with someone of such a background.”
Hearing this, Xiao Ying raised his head and looked directly at the emperor. His tone was stubborn and earnest.
“Father, I believe that since the court closed the case back then, the Wu family has already paid the price for its crimes, and those who deserved punishment have been dealt with. Their sins should be considered settled. Besides, Jun Yuexi saved my life. If I were to turn my back on him because of his past, would that not make me an ungrateful wretch?”
A strange glint flashed through the emperor’s eyes.
Consort Wan, listening nearby, was terrified. Yet she had to concentrate on playing while following this perilous exchange. Her palms were already damp with cold sweat, and her fingers had stiffened slightly from the strain. All she could do was press her lips tightly together and remain silent.
After a moment, the emperor stared into Xiao Ying’s eyes.
“You like him very much?”
“He is extraordinarily beautiful,” Xiao Ying answered without hesitation, adding, “Even your son pales in comparison.”
The emperor’s brows lifted slightly, and Xiao Ying’s answer seemed to pique his curiosity.
Xiao Ying had inherited Consort Wan’s stunning beauty almost perfectly. That was one of the reasons the emperor had shown him a certain degree of indulgence.
If even Xiao Ying considered himself inferior, then Jun Yuexi must indeed possess a beauty rarely seen in this world.
But the emperor quickly gathered his thoughts, his brows drawing together.
“And you like him simply because he is good-looking?”
“Of course not.”
Xiao Ying’s eyes even took on a hint of infatuation.
“When I first saw him at Shuyu Pavilion, I already felt that he was quite unlike ordinary people. He is not merely beautiful. He is also learned and talented, proficient in music, chess, poetry, and painting. He has a good temper, and he is gentle and understanding.”
Toward the end, his gaze lowered, and his voice carried a trace of regret.
“Your son simply feels it is such a pity that a man like him, a jewel among men, should have fallen into the muddy world of the pleasure houses…”
Consort Wan maintained her gentle, virtuous facade, her music remaining steady, but a tempest was already raging in her heart.
Judging from Xiao Ying’s expression and the things he had said…
Could it be that he had truly developed feelings for that young man called Jun Yuexi?!
Was her son really as fond of men as the rumors claimed?!
Even she could not tell whether he was merely acting or whether his feelings were genuine.
If Jun Yuexi were an ordinary male courtesan, then as long as Xiao Ying was willing to marry a woman as his principal wife, she could accept Jun Yuexi entering the prince’s residence as a male concubine.
But Jun Yuexi was the son of a convicted criminal…
Consort Wan suddenly began to suspect that Xiao Ying’s decision to secure Jun Yuexi’s services might not be as simple as it seemed.
The emperor silently scrutinized Xiao Ying’s eyes, not immediately believing the infatuation he was displaying.
Then he pointed out the most crucial inconsistency.
“If you like him so much, why did you only secure his services for one year instead of paying to redeem his freedom and bringing him back to your residence?”
His question struck directly at the most contradictory flaw in Xiao Ying’s seemingly outrageous behavior.
Xiao Ying gave a light laugh, revealing the three parts enthusiasm and seven parts fickleness characteristic of a spoiled young noble.
“Father knows me well. I have always been someone who acts on a whim. When I grow tired of the rare birds and beasts I keep in my residence, I can still leave them in their cages. People are different. Even I cannot say how long my interest will last. If I impulsively paid to redeem his freedom, what would happen if I lost interest one day? If I kept him in my residence and we became a resentful couple, or threw him away like a worn-out shoe, how ugly would that look once word got out? Giving it a year first is simply the most convenient way to see how things go.”
His explanation flowed effortlessly, outrageous yet entirely plausible.
He had portrayed the image of a lecherous, fickle prince who had developed an interest in someone but was too afraid of trouble to commit, with astonishing perfection.
The emperor listened, his gaze deep and unreadable, neither wholly convinced nor entirely skeptical.
For the moment, however, he could find no logical flaw in the explanation.
The Xiao Ying before him seemed to have calculated everything down to the last detail, yet somehow all his calculations concerned nothing more consequential than romantic entanglements.
Finally, the emperor withdrew his scrutinizing gaze and posed one last question, casting out a stone to test the waters.
“You are already nineteen this year. You are certainly no longer young. Is it not time you seriously considered taking a wife?”
“Your son has naturally considered it.”
Xiao Ying smiled as he followed the conversation.
“Some time ago, I even asked the chief steward of my residence to compile a list of eligible young ladies in the capital, along with their portraits. But… after looking through them again and again, I have yet to find anyone who particularly appeals to me.”
The emperor said calmly, “I believe the Minister of Personnel has a younger daughter who has not yet been betrothed. Your families are well matched. If you agree, I can take charge of the matter and arrange the marriage for you.”
Consort Wan was drenched in cold sweat as she listened.
The Minister of Personnel… He was a powerful court official who wielded real influence over the appointment and promotion of officials.
More importantly, the Minister of Personnel did not belong to the Crown Prince’s faction.
If Xiao Ying married his daughter, he would be throwing himself straight into the heart of the struggle for the throne.
The emperor was not asking whether Xiao Ying wanted to marry. He was probing whether he harbored ambitions to contend for the throne!
If Xiao Ying agreed now, the Eastern Palace and the Crown Prince’s faction would certainly not let the matter rest.
The emperor, too, would begin to regard Xiao Ying in a very different light.
A barely perceptible glint of coldness flashed through Xiao Ying’s eyes before he replaced it with a smile of exaggerated alarm. He hurriedly waved his hands.
“Your son would never dare to delay the marriage of the Minister’s precious daughter. My ambitions do not lie in the court. If I ever do marry, I would simply like to find a gentle, virtuous woman who can share a peaceful life with me. As for her family background… your son truly does not care about that.”
He had explicitly rejected an alliance through marriage with a powerful minister, once again making it clear to the emperor that he had no desire to contend for power or position.
“Your ambitions do not lie in the court?”
The emperor looked at him with a gaze so deep that it seemed capable of seeing straight through him.
Xiao Ying maintained an awkward smile.
“Your son merely…”
The emperor suddenly laughed.
“Enough. I was only asking casually.”
“Since your mind is made up, I will not force the matter.”
He finally rose to his feet and smoothed his imperial robes.
Turning toward Consort Wan in the corner, he remarked indifferently, “Your playing was quite good. I shall leave you two to your reunion.”
“We respectfully see Your Majesty off!”
Only after the emperor’s grand procession had completely disappeared through the entrance to Jinglan Court did the oppressive atmosphere throughout the courtyard finally break apart.
Consort Wan slowly sank back into her chair and let out a long, heavy sigh. Her back was already soaked with cold sweat.
Every exchange just now had been loaded with hidden meaning. Several times, she had nearly felt her heart leap right out of her chest.
Yet the smile on Xiao Ying’s face lost all warmth the instant the emperor departed.
He stood quietly where he was, his hands hidden in his sleeves already slick with sweat.
The emperor’s seemingly casual concern had, in reality, been a series of knife-sharp questions, each one carefully calculated.
Every probe had not only examined his health but also tested how much he knew. The emperor had even tried to gauge his intentions through a proposed marriage alliance.
The emperor had not come to inquire after his health.
He had been sitting across the chessboard all along, watching every move Xiao Ying made with perfect clarity.
Xiao Ying looked at his pale-faced mother consort, a cold and resolute determination settling deep in his eyes.
He suddenly understood something.
From the moment he had decided to enter the game, there was no longer any way to retreat from the political chessboard of the capital.
But simply surviving this “time-limited campaign to reclaim the lost territories of the Northern Frontier” would not be enough.
The same storms would return sooner or later, perhaps with even greater fury.
If he wanted to survive, he clearly needed more pieces in his hand.
Another, far larger chess game was already taking shape in his mind.
“Mother Consort, your son should return to the palace gates now.”
Xiao Ying collected his thoughts, his tone returning to its usual calm.
Consort Wan looked at him, then suddenly called softly, “Ying’er, wait.”
She took an ordinary little embroidered pouch decorated with a few green bamboo leaves from a palace maid beside her and handed it to him.
“You child. You have only just recovered from a serious illness, and already you are running around everywhere. Take this.”
Xiao Ying raised his brows slightly.
“Mother Consort, what is this for?”
“Buy some medicinal herbs to help restore your health.” Consort Wan spoke gently, with the helpless exasperation of a mother dealing with her spoiled son. “And do not complain about the bitterness of the medicine and secretly pour it away again.”
Xiao Ying smiled and reached out to take the pouch.
“Your son understands. Thank you, Mother Consort.”
The eunuch responsible for guiding him, who was in truth there to keep him under surveillance, continued to stand with his head lowered, as though he had heard nothing.
A prince who had recovered from an illness and returned to the palace to pay his respects receiving a little money from his concerned mother to buy medicine before leaving was an utterly ordinary matter. It was hardly worth recording in the palace registers, especially since he had already accepted benefits from Prince Yi.
Xiao Ying casually tied the pouch to his waist and bowed.
“Then your son will take his leave.”
Although Consort Wan was reluctant to let him go, she maintained a smile and nodded gently.
“Go on.”
Only after he had walked dozens of steps away from Jinglan Court and reached the long palace road leading out of the imperial grounds did Xiao Ying lower his head as though absentmindedly and lightly squeeze the pouch through the fabric.
Amid several pieces of silver and a few banknotes, his fingertips detected several unusual textures.
There were some “things” hidden inside.
Xiao Ying’s expression did not change, nor did his footsteps falter.
But in his heart, he knew perfectly well whose handiwork this was.
◇◆◇◆◇
The night was dark and deep, and all was silent.
Xiao Ying returned to his bedchamber, dismissed everyone, and removed his heavy, elaborate princely robes.
Wearing only a thin inner garment beneath his sleeping robe, he wearily sank onto the bed.
Lan Ningcheng had already timed his arrival precisely. He entered the hall carrying a freshly prepared bowl of medicinal decoction.
As soon as he stepped over the threshold, he heard several suppressed coughs coming from behind the curtains.
He lifted the beaded curtain and saw fine silk robes and jade belts scattered across the floor. His brows drew together slightly.
Xiao Ying was reclining against the bed, his slender fingers pressing against his temples. His brows were tightly furrowed, as though his recurring headaches had struck again.
He had only just recovered from a serious illness, yet today he had received Jun Yuexi and then entered the palace to visit Consort Wan. After such an exhausting day, even the last trace of color had drained from his already pale face. Only the corners of his eyes had turned a startling crimson from coughing.
“Your Highness, please take your medicine first.”
Lan Ningcheng held out the bowl of black, bitter-smelling decoction.
Xiao Ying glanced at it, his brows furrowing even more deeply.
Normally, he would have complained about it and insisted on having something sweet to eat afterward before agreeing to drink it. Today, however, he was unusually obedient.
He pushed himself upright, took the bowl, and drank it in one go. Then he accepted the plain handkerchief Lan Ningcheng offered and wiped his lips clean.
The bitter taste still lingered on his tongue as he spoke in a casual tone, as though discussing an ordinary matter.
“…Father came today.”
Lan Ningcheng was picking up the scattered robes when his movements paused slightly. A subtle change crossed his usually impassive face.
His voice nevertheless remained steady.
“What did His Majesty say?”
Xiao Ying leaned back against the cushions and slowly recounted the questions the emperor had raised during his visit.
He began with inquiries about his health and how he had fallen into the river, then moved on to the reason the pleasure boat had been burned and who might have been responsible. Next, the emperor had abruptly brought up Jun Yuexi’s true identity, before delivering the unexpected test of a proposed marriage alliance.
As Lan Ningcheng listened, his heart sank a little further with each revelation.
Every question had been another manifestation of the emperor’s unfathomable suspicion and a warning disguised as conversation.
However, when he heard about the proposed marriage, Lan Ningcheng detected an implication hidden beneath the surface.
The Minister of Personnel belonged to the faction loyal to imperial authority. Perhaps the emperor had not mentioned him casually at all.
This was not the sort of thought a father entirely unconcerned about his heir would entertain.
Lan Ningcheng realized that the seemingly impregnable support behind the Eastern Palace might not be quite as unassailable as it appeared.
The Crown Prince’s faction was now immensely powerful. Since the Crown Prince was the designated heir to the nation, a powerful following was hardly surprising.
But maintaining a balance of power was central to imperial rule. The emperor would never allow one faction to keep expanding unchecked until it became uncontrollable.
Still, this was only Lan Ningcheng’s personal conjecture. He had no concrete evidence.
“His Majesty has indeed begun to suspect Your Highness,” he said quietly.
“That was inevitable.”
Xiao Ying let out a cold laugh, mockery filling his peach-blossom eyes.
“He was suspicious by nature to begin with. And the fire that destroyed the pleasure boat caused far too much commotion. There was no way I could fool him so easily.”
Lan Ningcheng’s thoughts raced, though he felt slightly relieved.
“However, from what you have said, His Majesty did not mention the Seventh Prince, nor did he touch upon the grain supplies for the Northern Frontier. He probably has not yet discovered what we have been doing behind the scenes. But since his attention has now turned to Young Master Yuexi, anyone who has been secretly trying to harm him will have to think twice before acting again, lest they bring trouble upon themselves.”
Xiao Ying nodded, finding the reasoning sound.
As long as his father had not discovered that he was manipulating grain prices and military supplies behind the scenes, he could find ways to explain away his other inconsistencies.
Nevertheless, his expression gradually grew more solemn. There was no trace of relief in his face.
“…This cannot continue indefinitely.”
Xiao Ying stared into the distance, his voice low and heavy.
“Even if Seventh Brother survives the Northern Frontier and wins this war, so what? Once the threat from the Northern Di is gone, Father will have every legitimate reason to strip him of his military authority and forcibly summon him back to the capital. When that happens, they can find any excuse to place him under house arrest, or… simply let the Eastern Palace and the Crown Prince’s faction eliminate him in secret.”
Lan Ningcheng’s heart tightened.
He understood all too well that every word Xiao Ying had spoken could become part of the Seventh Prince’s future death trap.
The danger they had to overcome was far more than the current war on the Northern Frontier.
An extremely dangerous thought, one that could be deemed treasonous, suddenly intruded into his mind.
Lan Ningcheng raised his eyes slightly to look at his master, whose illness had yet to leave him completely.
He had always been careful with his words and actions. Yet now, he lowered his voice to an almost imperceptible murmur, each word falling distinctly into the deathly silent room.
“…In the celestial court of the stars, if the leading star grows dim and the following star shifts its course to take its place, what then?”
The bedchamber abruptly fell into a suffocating silence.
Xiao Ying looked at him calmly.
In the past, words dangerous enough to cost a man his head would never have come from Lan Ningcheng, whose every action was usually so meticulous.
After a moment of silence, Xiao Ying suddenly chuckled.
He shot Lan Ningcheng a teasing sidelong glance.
“Chief Steward Lan, your courage really is growing by the day. You dare to say such things so casually now? If someone from the Eastern Palace overheard even half a word, I would probably have to go personally to the mass burial grounds tomorrow to collect your corpse.”
Lan Ningcheng lowered his eyes. The corners of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly before his expression returned to its usual sternness.
“If your servant were truly buried, given the Crown Prince’s suspicious nature, he would certainly assume Your Highness had ordered it behind the scenes. By then, you would not escape either.”
Xiao Ying was momentarily speechless.
Because Lan Ningcheng was absolutely right.
Crown Prince Xiao Sheng was inherently suspicious and paranoid, even more so than the current emperor. If a man like that successfully ascended the throne, neither the court officials nor any of the princes could afford to feel safe. A bloodbath would be inevitable.
Including Xiao Ying himself.
“…You are right.”
Xiao Ying slowly let his smile fade, a sharp, cold glint flashing deep in his eyes.
Lan Ningcheng’s treasonous suggestion had struck precisely at the secret ambition hidden in the deepest part of his heart.
He had no desire to compete for that supreme and lonely throne. Nor did he want to spend his entire life trapped upon the imperial seat, becoming a solitary ruler who had to guard against even the person sleeping beside him.
But the empire of Dasheng, at the very least, needed someone else on the throne—someone who would allow them to survive.
He absolutely could not stand by and watch the person least fit to rule ascend to power and gain control over life and death.
“Still, that is easier said than done.”
Xiao Ying tapped his slender fingers lightly against the edge of the bed, producing a dull sound.
“The Crown Prince is the legitimate son of the empress. His position as heir is perfectly justified. His faction is deeply rooted throughout the court and has long since grown into a formidable force. Even if Father truly considered changing the heir, the political upheaval caused by deposing the eldest son in favor of a younger one would be enormous. It is not something that can be accomplished simply by deciding to do it.”
He paused. The peach-blossom eyes that were usually so bright and full of charm were now freezing over, filling with a chilling intensity.
“But… that does not mean there are no weaknesses.”
Lan Ningcheng immediately understood and replied in a low voice, “The current Crown Prince has always acted cautiously, ensuring that every step is carefully planned. As long as he does not make a mistake, his position will remain as stable as a mountain.”
Xiao Ying turned his head, meeting Lan Ningcheng’s gaze.
In the dim candlelight, their eyes met.
Neither of them stated the matter outright, but they had already reached a mutual understanding of the dark and perilous path that lay before them—a path they could not avoid taking.
“Exactly.” Xiao Ying narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone brutally clear. “As long as… he does not make a mistake.”
Silence once again filled the bedchamber.
Lan Ningcheng said nothing more, but he knew that from this day forward, certain things had irrevocably changed.
In the past, they had thought only of concealing their abilities, avoiding the Crown Prince’s attention, and staying alive.
But now, if they wanted Prince Su, far away on the Northern Frontier, to return safely, simply yielding and keeping their heads down was no longer enough.
Xiao Ying leaned against the cushions, gazing for a long time at the flickering candlelight.
Although his father now harbored some suspicions about him, he still did not regard this “spoiled playboy” as a political rival who needed to be guarded against.
As long as Xiao Ying did not reach for the throne or allow the hidden networks he had built to emerge into the light, his father would not yet move to kill him.
But the Crown Prince was different.
He was the designated heir, the next emperor in the eyes of every court official.
Precisely because he occupied such a lofty position, he could not afford even the slightest stain on his reputation.
The nonchalance in Xiao Ying’s eyes vanished completely. He was like a blade that had finally been tempered in fire and sharpened, its cold edge radiating an intimidating glint.
“Chief Steward Lan.”
“Your servant is here.”
“Starting tomorrow, mobilize all our hidden informants and keep a close watch on the Ministry of Revenue. Pay particular attention to the activities of those Crown Prince faction officials.”
A faint, venomous smile curved Xiao Ying’s lips.
“I would very much like to see… just how clean the affairs of that lofty Eastern Palace really are.”
In the past, Xiao Ying had warned Lan Ningcheng never to meddle in the affairs of the Eastern Palace, the Crown Prince’s faction, or the hidden currents within the Ministry of Revenue.
In this palace, where people devoured one another, the more you knew, the faster you died.
But now, he had no choice but to step into that mire himself.
He needed to acquire enough leverage to be fatal to his enemies, rather than continue walking around with his eyes covered.
There was one thing he understood with absolute clarity—
If the Crown Prince in the Eastern Palace were allowed to ascend the throne as a matter of course, Xiao Ying’s good days would be over for good.
Just as the atmosphere in the bedchamber grew heavy with murderous tension, Lan Ningcheng, who had been methodically folding the silk robes, suddenly spoke in an unhurried voice.
“If Your Highness intends to pursue the position of the leading star, your servant is willing to give his all and follow you to the death.”
“Cough… cough, cough, cough—!”
All the formidable aura Xiao Ying had just gathered instantly dissipated. His breath caught, and his carefully cultivated composure collapsed on the spot as he covered his mouth and coughed violently.
After finally managing to stop coughing, he raised his peach-blossom eyes, now glistening with tears from the choking fit, and stared at his chief steward with utter disbelief.
“Lan Ningcheng, do you think I have lived too long? Or do you think our lives are currently too comfortable?”
Lan Ningcheng did not stop what he was doing. With an utterly impassive expression, he offered his analysis as though discussing an entirely ordinary matter.
“Your servant has merely conducted an objective assessment. Apart from the Seventh Prince, who is far away on the Northern Frontier, I cannot seem to find a more suitable candidate among the other princes. Your Highness may be a little lazy and somewhat reckless in your conduct, but you are quick-witted and possess a reasonable degree of skill. As long as someone is there to supervise you strictly, you could at least manage to be a passable emperor who preserves the status quo. And even if nothing else, while you may be too lazy to perform any great acts of benevolence, you are equally too lazy to commit any great acts of evil. For the people of Dasheng, that alone would be a blessing.”
Xiao Ying listened, the corner of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
What kind of praise was that supposed to be?
This was clearly a case of the other princes being so hopeless that Lan Ningcheng had been forced to settle for the least terrible option—the “lazy man who could at least avoid bringing ruin upon the nation and its people as long as someone kept an eye on him.”
“Chief Steward Lan…”
Xiao Ying let out a long sigh and flopped back onto the bed as though life had lost all meaning.
“I thank you for your ‘high regard.’ But let me make this perfectly clear today—I. Will. Never. Sit. On. That. Throne!”
What kind of joke was this?
He had not lost his mind.
Why would he want to sit on that wretched chair, where he would have to spend every day worrying about someone poisoning him?
And where he would have to rise at dawn and work late into the night reviewing memorials?
He would have no freedom whatsoever. At worst, he would be forced to endure a bunch of inflexible censors pointing fingers at him and berating him, or become a puppet in the power struggles among court officials.
He would have to be insane to compete for it!
Lan Ningcheng was not surprised in the slightest by his vehement refusal. He simply smoothed out the robes and folded them neatly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
If Xiao Ying did not want to fight for the throne, then so be it.
After all, Lan Ningcheng had no particular complaints about his current life: occasionally worrying about his own safety, but spending most of his time cleaning up after his master.
When he had first entered official service, he, too, had been filled with lofty ambitions, determined to become a pillar of the state whose name would be remembered in history and whose work would benefit the common people.
But after joining Prince Yi’s residence and immersing himself in the undercurrents of the imperial palace, the more he witnessed, the more thoroughly he had awakened to reality.
In this treacherous court, simply doing a “good enough” job was no guarantee of survival. Far more often, people were forced to act against their wishes and make sacrifices they could not avoid.
He had not abandoned his former ideals. It was simply that, on the scales of his heart, something mattered more than those lofty but elusive ambitions.
He had to protect the seemingly reckless yet clear-headed man before him and help him survive this crisis, which was filled with hidden murderous intent.
As for everything else… there would be time enough for that.
After tidying away the scattered clothing, Lan Ningcheng’s expression grew serious as he brought up another seemingly minor matter Xiao Ying had previously asked him to investigate “while he was at it.”
“Regarding Consort Zhao’s sudden death from illness, the records from both the Imperial Medical Bureau and the Imperial Household Department are extremely thorough. All the documents are in order, and on the surface, there is not the slightest flaw.”
Xiao Ying nodded slightly, thinking that perhaps he had been overthinking things. But the major revelation Lan Ningcheng delivered next made his gaze suddenly sharpen.
“Your servant also heard a secret rumor concerning Consort Zhao from within the inner palace. Apparently, she had already shown signs of pregnancy before her sudden death.”
Xiao Ying raised his brows, his voice tinged with suspicion.
“Pregnant?”
The current emperor was already over sixty, and the youngest Ninth Prince was fourteen. No child had been born to the imperial harem for many years. He had not expected the old emperor to still possess such vigor in his twilight years.
“Can we find any records of this at the Imperial Medical Bureau?”
Lan Ningcheng shook his head.
“The medical records there are immaculate. Not a single word mentions pregnancy.”
Xiao Ying leaned against the cushions and nodded, unsurprised.
“So we cannot prove she was actually pregnant.”
He thought to himself that if someone really had arranged her death, the official records would naturally have been cleaned up beautifully.
“But while conducting a private investigation, your servant discovered several ‘coincidences.’”
Lan Ningcheng lowered his voice.
“Half a month before Consort Zhao’s sudden death, an elderly matron whom she had brought into the palace from her maternal family died suddenly of an illness. Then, three days after the consort passed away, her closest personal maid disappeared.”
Xiao Ying fell silent.
Two people had died in close succession, and a personal maid had vanished in between. The word “coincidence” could hardly explain all of that.
In the imperial harem, schemes to compete for favor were endless. Consort Zhao had enjoyed the emperor’s favor during her lifetime, so it would hardly have been surprising if she had been envied and framed by others.
He did not immediately respond.
On the carriage ride back to his residence, he had already examined the contents of the pouch.
He had some idea of what was going on. Now, comparing the information with Lan Ningcheng’s findings, it seemed the information provided by “that person” was indeed fairly accurate.
He reached into a hidden compartment beneath his pillow and took out several tiny slips of paper, folded until they were almost as thin as a cicada’s wing. He casually handed them to Lan Ningcheng.
“Look at these.”
Lan Ningcheng accepted them with a suspicious look.
The handwriting on the paper was minuscule. There were no unnecessary descriptions or embellishments, only cold, restrained entries, as though an emotionless clerk had spent years transcribing a tedious ledger.
ConsortZhaoConsort Zhao
Entered the palace two years ago. Maternal family: Vice Minister of War.
First day of the first month: Imperial Physician Zhang entered.
Twelfth day of the first month: Elderly matron fell ill.
Seventeenth day of the first month: Imperial Physician Zhang entered at night.
Nineteenth day of the first month: Elderly matron died.
Twenty-ninth day of the first month: Consort Zhao died of illness.
Thirty-first day of the first month: Personal maid Cuiyu reassigned.
Note: Maid Qiuxiang claimed to have once overheard Consort Zhao whispering the words “my imperial child.” Qiuxiang was transferred to the laundry bureau three days later and subsequently drowned.
The more Lan Ningcheng read, the more his pupils contracted.
Because Consort Zhao was not the only person recorded on these slips.
There were nine sheets in total. The first concerned Consort Zhao, while the others documented the mothers of other princes.
ConsortYunConsort Yun
Yongsheng Year Six. Maternal family: Vice Minister of Justice.
Fourth day of the ninth month: Supervising eunuch beaten to death.
Seventh day of the ninth month: Shift assignments in the Imperial Household Department changed.
Tenth day of the ninth month: Consort Yun died of illness.
ConsortDeConsort De
Yongsheng Year Nine. Maternal family: Minister of Rites.
…Died.
The following sheets recorded the circumstances surrounding the deaths of several high-ranking imperial consorts over the past several decades.
Consort Yun was the mother of the Third Prince, while Consort De was the mother of the Fifth Prince.
Every consort had died of a serious illness, an accident, or a sudden and unexpected death.
And every death had been accompanied by unusual personnel changes among the palace attendants around them. Some were reassigned, some died suddenly, and others disappeared.
At the end of the final sheet, someone had even drawn a question mark.
Lan Ningcheng raised his head and looked at Xiao Ying.
“Your Highness, what is this…?”
This was not information that could have been gathered in a short time.
Someone had been lying low within the imperial palace, quietly recording the movements of the living and the dead, one entry at a time, over the course of many years.
“Mother Consort gave them to me. In fact, they came from Ninth Brother.”
Xiao Ying had not expected much from Xiao Wei. Even if his Ninth Brother possessed some information about what went on in the palace, it would surely consist of nothing more than scattered rumors.
After all, no matter how clever the boy was, he was only fourteen.
Yet looking at these slips of paper, Xiao Ying realized for the first time that perhaps he had never truly understood his Ninth Brother.
Xiao Ying spoke in a low, somber voice.
“Chief Steward Lan, you just said that Consort Zhao’s death was suspicious. But if we look at her case alone, we might assume it was merely another palace struggle over imperial favor.”
Xiao Ying tapped his fingers lightly against the edge of the bed, producing a dull sound.
“The mothers of Third Brother and Fifth Brother died early. Seventh Brother and Ninth Brother lost their mothers’ protection when they were young. The maternal families of Second Brother, Fourth Brother, and Sixth Brother still exist, but their positions in the court have long since become empty titles without any real influence. As for me… my mother consort is still alive, but my maternal grandfather’s family does not even have an official position of any significance in the capital. They simply have a great deal of money.”
Lan Ningcheng listened quietly.
“None of these facts have ever been secret. Nor are they particularly unusual throughout history.”
All traces of amusement had vanished from Xiao Ying’s peach-blossom eyes, replaced by a chilling coldness.
“But… no one has ever placed these long-known facts alongside the details of the palace attendants who disappeared or died suddenly and examined them together.”
Xiao Ying raised his eyes and looked directly at Lan Ningcheng.
“Of the nine princes in the imperial court, only the Eastern Palace possesses a powerful maternal family capable of throwing its weight around in the political arena.”
Looking at the slips of paper, Xiao Ying suddenly thought of Ninth Brother’s usually expressionless face.
He did not know whether Xiao Wei had done this intentionally or inadvertently.
But when these slips were placed together, they seemed to be asking him a question:
Why had the maternal families of the princes ended up in their present state?
He realized that among the nine princes:
His own mother consort was still alive, but his maternal family was weak and lacked any significant connections.
The mothers of the Third, Fifth, Seventh, and Ninth Princes had all died.
As for the maternal families of the remaining princes, they had either fallen into decline and lost their influence or never posed any meaningful threat in the first place.
“Your Highness means…”
Xiao Ying tapped the edge of the bed with a bent finger, his gaze unfathomable.
“Consort Zhao’s maternal family was the Vice Minister of War—a firm supporter of imperial authority. Yet even if she really had been pregnant and successfully given birth to a prince, a newborn infant would hardly have posed any threat to the deeply entrenched Eastern Palace. And yet she died.”
The empress came from the Duke Dingguo household, a family of founding heroes. Her elder brother had inherited the title and commanded a substantial military force. Their position was as secure as a mountain.
Given the empress’s influence, even if Consort Zhao had truly been pregnant, the threat she posed to the Eastern Palace would have been limited.
The political benefits of killing her might not have justified taking such a great risk.
And if the empress really had spent years deliberately eliminating the mothers of all the other princes, then the fact that several adult princes’ mothers were still alive would make little sense.
“The death of one consort might be the result of palace infighting. The deaths of two might be a coincidence.”
Xiao Ying’s voice was as cold as ice.
“But if every consort who gave birth to a prince—or every consort whose maternal family could provide substantial political support to a prince—has died one after another over the past decade or more, each death accompanied by the reassignment or disappearance of palace attendants… can that still be called a coincidence?”
This might have been a silent, decades-long campaign of “pruning the branches.”
Someone had been working in secret, patiently and meticulously cutting away every branch that might have grown into a towering tree behind the princes, stripping them of potential support one clean cut at a time.
“If someone has been secretly clearing every obstacle from the Crown Prince’s path and weakening all his potential rivals…”
Xiao Ying murmured to himself.
“Who stands to benefit? The Crown Prince? His faction?”
Lan Ningcheng’s fingers tightened slightly around the slips of paper as he supplied the most crucial half of the answer.
“The greatest beneficiary is not necessarily the person who personally holds the scissors.”
Xiao Ying fell silent.
Indeed… Was the person in the Eastern Palace truly capable of wielding such far-reaching influence, planning the affairs of the imperial harem decades ago?
But if it was not the Crown Prince, then who had been clearing the path for him?
And was clearing the path really the only objective?
An icy chill surged from the soles of Xiao Ying’s feet and spread instantly through every limb.
He had thought he was merely a player who had only just decided to enter the game.
He had never imagined…
Perhaps from the moment he was born—or no, from the moment his mother consort entered the palace—they had all already been pieces on someone else’s chessboard, moved about at will.
If he could not truly see the course of the game, he would be forced to keep moving according to his opponent’s design.