Lady Gu, who had delivered the sobering soup to the window gap, silently retreated and hurried away from the East Wing Room. She felt a mix of surprise and delight—she had never seen emotions other than mild warmth on her son’s face before.
The warm bed was nurturing, softening the heart.
Lady Gu suppressed her excitement, thinking that she might hold a grandchild by this time next year.
“What are you grinning foolishly about?” Her husband Wei Zhongchun’s voice suddenly rang out.
“Shh!”
Lady Gu nervously shushed him, signaling her husband, who had just returned, not to make any noise.
Wei Zhongchun limped closer to his wife and asked softly, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Let’s go back to our room.”
She certainly did not want anyone to disturb her son and daughter-in-law in their intimate whispers.
In the Capital City.
Late at night, the Shunren Emperor jolted awake from a nightmare. He stared blankly at the bright yellow canopy above, where a five-clawed golden dragon coiled majestically.
Emperors were naturally suspicious, and the sleeping palace always kept lamps lit year-round, never plunging into pitch-black darkness. At this hour, the light reflected off the pitch-perfect golden dragon embroidery, as if a real dragon were leaping from the satin, tumbling through clouds and rain.
The Shunren Emperor sat up, his mind unsettled by the nightmare. He drew out a talisman from under his coral pillow and summoned the eunuch on night watch outside.
“Tomorrow, bring a new sorcerer into the palace.”
Clearly, the sleep-aid talisman had backfired.
The Shunren Emperor sighed to himself, “My son bore too much resentment, wandering the world, unable to reincarnate. We are to blame.”
But that child’s birth chart was destined to produce a malevolent spirit. The Yide Empress had gone into premature labor, altering the auspicious birth date meant for the infant.
The imperial physicians had predicted those days around delivery would all be propitious, and even the Imperial Astronomical Bureau had foreseen heavenly omens. Yet the Yide Empress gave birth early. On that clear morning of labor, the infant’s loud cry reached the emperor’s ears like the lingering note of a snapped string.
After reviewing the birth chart, the director of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau collapsed to the ground.
The son would overcome the father.
The Shunren Emperor, already pursuing longevity arts, swept his sleeve and left without even holding his eldest son once. The next month, the Noble Consort Dong gave birth, and heavenly omens descended—rain moistened the land, the drought receded, and a bountiful harvest arrived.
The Shunren Emperor was overjoyed and promoted Noble Consort Dong to Imperial Noble Consort.
His eldest son had been stubborn from a young age. Compared to the obedient and sweet second son, he was not a likable child. But he was still his own flesh and blood.
Blood is thicker than water—how could he bear to abandon him?
Yet that child had followed his mother in death. On the road from the palace to the Traveling Palace,
he detonated the carriage.
His uncle was the commander of the Divine Machine Camp, overseeing the Da Yan Dynasty’s most elite firearms. The boy had secretly learned and mastered the method of detonation.
So clever and spirited—if only he had been born on an auspicious day.
Now, his eldest son, transformed into a malevolent spirit by resentment, often appeared in the Shunren Emperor’s dreams. If not the son overcoming the father, what was it?
The Shunren Emperor leaned back and sighed again, helplessness surfacing on his well-preserved face.
“Send word to the Crown Prince: during his time in Yangzhou, he must probe whether the Cui Family harbors hostility toward the Eastern Palace.”
Cui Shihan’s attitude represented the Cui Clan’s. Over these years, Grand Tutor Cui Shengzhi had not engaged in the princes’ scheming, staying silent without apparent ambition to seize power. But foxes lie low before they strike, and they eat meat.
Back then, to appease the Cui Clan and prevent conflict with the Dong Clan, the Shunren Emperor had shouldered full responsibility for his wife’s death. He had confided in Cui Shengzhi, promising ample compensation for the Cui Clan’s loss, and on the day Cui Shihan’s younger sister was born, he decreed her title as county princess.
As head of the Cui Clan, Cui Shengzhi would weigh pros and cons and not risk the entire family for vengeance against the imperial family over his eldest daughter.
Over the years, the Shunren Emperor had promoted many Cui Clan disciples with titles and ranks but granted no real power, only to avoid planting threats for the Crown Prince. Yet Cui Wei, the eldest son of the Cui Clan, was the commander of the Divine Machine Camp. The border’s peace and the enemy’s repeated defeats owed half their success to him.
No one could replace him yet.
Thus, he could only allow the Cui and Dong families to coexist and prosper in the court.
Sixteen years had passed—human hearts were hard to fathom, and ambitions grew with power. Without a prince as leverage, the Cui Clan could not contend with the Dong Clan, but that did not mean they would willingly submit to the Crown Prince. Probing Cui Shihan’s attitude was crucial. If the Cui Clan truly had no intent to stir the waters, he as emperor could rest easy. If they did, while he was still hale and hearty, he would eliminate this major threat for the Crown Prince.
But the century-old Cui Clan was not easily uprooted. Moving against them would shake the court and the realm.
This was why he had compensated the Cui Clan over the years to keep them appeased. He hoped they harbored no designs on the throne.
“Also, have the messenger deliver the Crown Prince’s beloved dog to Yangzhou. It hasn’t eaten or drunk all day—no one can tend to it.”
The next morning, Jiang Yinyue, sobered from the wine, sat up with her legs splayed to either side. She groggily scratched her messy hair.
No pounding headache from a hangover, and her body felt fresh and clean—even her clothes had been changed.
Confirming she was in Wei Qin’s room, she breathed a sigh of relief, though bewilderment arose. Who could have approached her so closely…
“Second Young Madam is awake.”
An unfamiliar maid entered with a copper basin and explained with a smile, “This servant was brought in by Second Madam. From now on, she will be Second Young Madam’s personal attendant in the Wei Family. Just call this servant Du Juan.”
Jiang Yinyue had heard her mother-in-law mention hiring a maid, so she felt no surprise. “Where is the Second Young Master?”
“He went on duty. This servant will help Second Young Madam wash up.”
“Did you arrive this morning or last night?”
Du Juan smiled and replied, “Before dawn today.”
Jiang Yinyue nodded and asked no more. After washing and dressing, she went to find Miaodie.
Miaodie only served the frail Wei Ying. She had temporarily attended Jiang Yinyue the past few days due to staff shortages.
When Jiang Yinyue subtly inquired who had helped her change clothes last night, Miaodie could not help but chuckle before quickly composing herself.
“It was this servant.”
In most households, even between husband and wife, attendants handled daily routines. Miaodie thought nothing of it and led Jiang Yinyue to Wei Ying’s room.
Wei Ying, wrapped in medicine jars, rarely went out. Her skin was sickly pale, but upon seeing Jiang Yinyue, joy lit her eyes and brows.
“Sister-in-law is here.”
Jiang Yinyue felt pity for the girl and planned to take her out for walks in her free time—some sunlight would do her good.
After discussing with Wei Ying, Jiang Yinyue led her out of the back courtyard for a stroll in the morning light of the back alley.
Seeing neighbors craning their necks to peer out, Wei Ying explained, “The neighbors around here are quite nosy. Sister-in-law, just ignore them.”
“It’s good that you think that way.”
Wei Ying looked at Jiang Yinyue in surprise, vaguely feeling her sister-in-law was different from others. Her contemplation was interrupted by the clip-clop of hooves.
Cui Shihan arrived on horseback, instantly filling the breeze with vitality. “Sober now?”
“Sober since early.” Jiang Yinyue unconsciously smiled faintly. Perhaps from their previous two pleasant talks fostering an instant rapport, seeing her brought a sense of meeting a kindred spirit far from home.
“Mr. Gong is telling stories at the teahouse today. I reserved a viewing booth. Want to come?”
“The Mr. Gong from yesterday?”
“Exactly.”
Jiang Yinyue looked at Wei Ying, who smiled and shook her head, politely declining her sister-in-law’s silent invitation.
That evening, with fine rain falling, Cui Shihan took Jiang Yinyue to the teahouse. An attendant led them to the second-floor viewing booth.
Mr. Gong excelled at recounting salacious histories of nobles’ romances, drawing many female patrons, including ladies from high families and unmarried girls.
The booth had fruits and vegetables aplenty. Cui Shihan lounged with her legs crossed casually, nibbling melon seeds from a silver dish leisurely. When Mr. Gong appeared in the main hall downstairs, she joined the shouts and cheers.
Far from reserved.
Earning quite a few glares.
Jiang Yinyue propped her cheek and smiled, delighted to know such an unconventional woman.
Both had grown up amid gossip—one had squandered a great hand, the other was rumored to be a stand-in for her sister.
They were meant to appreciate each other.
Mr. Gong bowed to the audience, then slapped the wake-up wood and began recounting how the Yide Empress had captivated the Capital City before her marriage.
Cui Shihan listened intently, heedless of the glances cast her way, crystals shimmering in her eyes.
Jiang Yinyue had no memory of the Yide Empress—she had been only two when the empress took her own life. Later, from elders, she learned she had been a gentle and dignified empress, amiable to all.
Yet such a temperament had led to her tragic end.
The rear palace was no place for the overly kind.
On the stage, Mr. Gong spoke wittily and humorously, already drawing sighs from women below.
“With such family background and beauty, why would she despair and enter the palace to vie for favor?”
Cui Shihan’s eyes darkened. Why? Because she had mistakenly believed the emperor could be faithful.
But deep affection does not lead to long life.
Mr. Gong continued passionately when suddenly, uniform footsteps resounded like a thousand troops charging through the teahouse doors, shoving aside the gatekeeper.
Bewildered and alarmed patrons turned back, retreating to the sides in confusion and panic.
The lead bailiff strode aggressively toward the stage. “Official business—taking a man. Bystanders, clear out.”
The teahouse owner hurried over, cupping his hands as he walked. “Sirs, calm down. Let’s talk this out. What is the meaning of this…?”
“Talk it out? You’ve got trouble! We’ll deal with you later!”
The lead bailiff shoved the bewildered owner aside and bounded onto the stage, grabbing Mr. Gong’s collar and dragging him out without a word.
Mr. Gong, elderly, stumbled and fell, one hand still clutching the wake-up wood tightly.
“What sort of people are you?”
“Blind with age? Don’t recognize the yamen runners?” The bailiff irritably stomped on the old man’s hand gripping the wake-up wood, lest he “counterattack” with the “weapon.”
The full house fell silent, no one daring to intervene—until a hoarse female voice came from the second-floor booth.
“You need a reason to make an arrest.”
The bailiffs looked up and instantly recognized the girl, their stern expressions turning respectful. “The County Princess is here too! This one acts on Prefect Lin’s orders. Is that reason sufficient?”
Cui Shihan looked down at the group of bailiffs, no longer relaxed. “Then trouble Prefect Lin to come explain.”
“Don’t make it hard for this one, County Princess.”
“Then release him!”
Cui Shihan wasted no more words. With one hand on the railing, she vaulted down while drawing her horsewhip from her waist, lashing straight at the lead bailiff’s face.
The bailiff instinctively recoiled, releasing his grip on Mr. Gong.
Cui Shihan landed steadily, hauled Mr. Gong up, and amid the bailiffs’ hesitation, swept her whip in a wide arc.
Outside the teahouse, the rain grew heavier. A rickety carriage raced down a sparsely crowded street, the driving girl stern-faced with piercing eyes.
“Giddyup!”
Jiang Yinyue sat beside the girl, letting rain soak her water-blue robes. She glanced back at the shaken-off bailiffs, then at the half-open straw-curtained compartment.