Shen Yanshui, attended by Chunping and Xia’an, was soon properly dressed, and as she stepped into the outer room she saw the eunuchs filing in one after another, setting the morning meal upon the table.
She looked toward the Crown Prince, who sat on the couch bed holding a book, and stepped forward with a smile to greet him.
Cui Yu raised his eyes, as though only just noticing her.
The weather was fine today, sunlight pouring early into the room. Shen Yanshui wore a consort-pink gauze dress, her slender waist—barely more than a hand’s span—cinched with a white jade begonia pendant, over which lay a layer of cicada-wing gauze, making her look soft and lovely.
Only her hair was styled a touch too simply.
Cui Yu said, in a flat tone, “Rise.”
Shen Yanshui noticed his gaze had lingered a moment longer on her hair, but she paid it no mind. Unless she was going out, she usually just had Xia’an twist her hair into a simple bun, secured with a single hairpin or a ribbon—it was the most comfortable way.
Of course, this was also her way of gradually testing the Crown Prince’s tolerance for her behavior. And so far… the results of the test seemed to be going rather well.
The two of them began the meal. Shen Yanshui was not a picky eater, so even though everything on the table had been prepared for the Crown Prince, she still ate with relish.
When Cui Yu set down his silver chopsticks, he saw her glance at him, blink, and say, “Your Highness, this concubine hasn’t had enough yet.”
Cui Yu said gently, “From now on, eat as much as you like. No need to hold back on my account.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. Your Highness is so kind.” Shen Yanshui looked at him, her eyes bright.
With that, she ladled herself another bowl of vegetable and minced meat congee and kept eating.
Though Shen Yanshui ate a great deal, her movements were never coarse or unsightly—being good-looking, after all, everything she did was pleasing to watch.
Seeing her appetite and her happy expression as she ate, Cui Yu gave a soft chuckle, lowered his head, and took a sip of tea—then suddenly frowned faintly and set the cup down.
Zheng Yuande felt he finally understood: this Consort Shen, Zhaoxun, really was a bit of a simpleton. Whatever the Crown Prince said, she took at face value.
Told to eat, she really did just keep eating with an easy conscience, leaving His Highness sitting off to the side, as though attending the Crown Prince mattered less to her than those two bowls of rice in front of her…
Zheng Yuande was at a complete loss for words.
Fortunately, he’d had the foresight to specially instruct the kitchens to prepare extra portions—otherwise he’d have worried there wouldn’t be enough left for their Highness.
As for Chunping, Xia’an, and the others in attendance, no matter how complicated their feelings, none of them dared say a word. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t tried gently advising her before, but… it hadn’t worked.
In the end, all they could do was keep their composed, dignified smiles.
It wasn’t long before Shen Yanshui finished eating and rinsed her mouth.
Cui Yu looked at her and suddenly said, “In a few days is the Duanyang Festival. Would you like to go view the sights at Jinming Pond?”
Shen Yanshui was a little surprised—she hadn’t expected him to bring this up on his own—but her eyes lit up at once, and she answered without hesitation, “This concubine would like to go.”
Who wouldn’t want to go see the excitement?
Zheng Yuande: “……” Confirmed. She really was a bit dim.
Chunping and Xia’an: “……”
It wasn’t that their mistress didn’t want to go—but did she really have to say it so bluntly, right in front of His Highness? A little more tact wouldn’t have hurt. | BlackLotus Translations | black lotus novel
Hearing her answer, Cui Yu nodded, seeming unsurprised.
Listening to her speak so candidly about what she wanted, without putting on a soft, delicate voice to make some roundabout, probing remark, or to hint at the Crown Princess or anyone else while slipping in some subtle dig—
A faint, quiet trace of amusement rose in the depths of Cui Yu’s calm, deep eyes. His voice was clear and rich, unhurried. “Noted.”
Shen Yanshui bowed to see him off, and found herself, despite everything, looking forward a little to the coming Duanyang Festival.
Consort Liu watched the Crown Prince’s tall, straight-backed figure as he left, swallowing down the bitterness in her heart, and lowered her head to bow to Consort Shen beside her. “Sister Shen, this little sister will take her leave.”
Shen Yanshui nodded with a smile, pretending not to notice the shadows beneath her eyes, and said nothing more.
There were so many women in this palace—if Consort Liu didn’t learn to let things go, to make some effort toward her own happiness, in the end it would only be herself who suffered for it.
Back in her room, she picked up the book from the couch bed to continue reading. It was a gazetteer on the geography of the northern frontier of Great Yong, filled with the author’s accounts of the customs and local color of the north—rather interesting reading.
“Huh?” Shen Yanshui flipped through the book, then looked around the couch bed, and glanced up at Chunping. “Where’s my five-colored lucky cord?”
Before Chunping could answer, Xia’an, who was ironing clothes nearby, pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh and said in a low voice, “Reporting to Mistress, this servant saw it—His Highness the Crown Prince took it just now.”
Shen Yanshui: “……?”
Today was a rest day. Cui Yu had no court session to attend, nor any government affairs to handle at the Jingzhao prefecture office. But he had barely arrived at Changqing Palace, had not even sat down yet, when he turned his head and said, “I recall—last year the Southern Ocean tribute included a set of hibiscus rose-quartz inlaid pearl headpieces?”
Zheng Yuande blinked, then said, “Reporting to Your Highness, that is indeed so. I’ve heard that hibiscus rose-quartz is extremely rare and hard to come by.”
Cui Yu said, “Send that set of headpieces to Consort Shen, Zhaoxun.”
Zheng Yuande hastily bowed in acknowledgment, but before he could withdraw, he heard His Highness continue, “Also go to the inner court’s flower garden and pick out some of the finest blooms in bloom right now.” He paused a moment, then said flatly, “Have someone from the Department of Eunuchs…”
After Zheng Yuande withdrew, word came that the Crown Prince’s household official, the Junior Steward, was already waiting in Dunben Hall. Cui Yu’s brow furrowed slightly.
Chen Qian had just passed forty. He wore vermillion official robes cinched with a leather belt, his features composed, a goat’s beard at his chin—though his expression at the moment was far from pleasant. After being announced, he entered the Crown Prince’s study.
Chen Qian bowed. “This official pays respects to Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
Cui Yu said evenly, “Lord Chen need not stand on ceremony.”
Chen Qian rose after paying respects, his brow knotting into a deep furrow, and said in a heavy voice, “Your Highness, this very morning, His Majesty suddenly ordered the Marquis of Xuanyi to lead forty thousand of the Tiger Wing Army from under General Qi’s command—splitting off half his military authority in one stroke. And now the General has been ordered to recuperate at home besides. Your Highness, are we simply to sit here and wait for death?”
The Crown Prince’s maternal family, the House of Duke Fengguo, held military authority—but ever since the Crown Prince’s own maternal uncle, General Qi, had risen to sudden prominence, the old Duke of Fengguo, who had once still seemed hale and hearty, had found his old wounds flaring up again and could no longer take the field.
General Qi was formidable in battle, but at court he did not yet have the old Duke’s seasoned skill to support His Highness.
Having finished speaking, and seeing the Crown Prince say nothing, Chen Qian’s brow tightened further. “Your Highness, I’ve heard that the Marquis of Xuanyi has never gotten along with General Qi, and that he’s connected by marriage to the Fourth Prince’s maternal family, the He clan. His Majesty means to raise up the Fourth Prince. We cannot go on simply sitting and waiting to be struck down!”
“I’ve also heard that this year’s Duanyang Festival gathering at Jinming Pond has been placed in the charge of the Eldest Prince and the Fourth Prince. Why not have some of our people quietly arrange a little something in secret—”
Cui Yu cut him off abruptly, his expression darkening slightly. “Lord Chen.”
Chen Qian: “Your Highness?”
Cui Yu’s brow drew tight. “This one understands Lord Chen’s intentions. But the Duanyang Festival gathering at Jinming Pond will draw the attention of the entire court and beyond—it concerns the reputation of the imperial house. This matter is not to be spoken of further.”
In the end, Lord Chen left with a stiff, unhappy expression.
Cui Yu’s face remained composed. The matter of military authority he had already discussed beforehand with his maternal grandfather and uncle—it came as no surprise to him.
His father was no foolish, incompetent emperor. In his younger years, Cui Yu had always taken his father as his model, had wanted to become the kind of wise and enlightened ruler his father was.
Only… as his father’s health had declined day by day, and as he and his brothers, the sons, had grown up day by day in turn, his father’s moods had grown more and more unpredictable, more prone to suspicion.
It was just at such a time that the northern frontier tribes had invaded, and his maternal uncle had made his name in a single battle, and in the years since had piled up one victory after another.
As one triumphant report after another arrived in the capital from the border, he had gradually come to sense the change in his father’s feelings toward him.
Over the years, the Crown Prince’s household office had become a hollow shell in all but name. The original officials of his household had been dismissed or transferred elsewhere; among those who remained now, many were like Chen Qian—all show and no substance, either shortsighted or hungry for quick gains.
There were a few with genuine ability, but every one of them held multiple posts, serving as department heads at court—the position in the Crown Prince’s household was, to them, nothing more than an empty title.
If he had need of them, he could certainly summon them. But… there was no need for that.
They were not his men, this Crown Prince’s men. They were his father’s men.
Cui Yu’s gaze fell on the white jade paperweight at the edge of his desk.
It was from when he’d begun his studies at age three—the jade warm and smooth, carved with simple cloud patterns, one of the birthday gifts his father had carved for him with his own hands. · Black Lotus novel Novel Translations | Black Lotus Novel
Back then, his father had held his hand and, stroke by stroke, taught him to write his first character: “eternal.”
“Yu’er, writing characters is like being a person—your strokes must be upright, and so must your heart.”
Back then his father’s voice had still carried an open, hearty warmth, without the suspicion that colored it now. He even remembered a time when he’d been too small to reach the desk, and his father had held him on his knee, letting him curiously grab the weighty imperial seal to play with.
His father hadn’t minded—had simply let him stamp it about on paper as a toy.
Cui Yu slowly closed his eyes, his fingers absently tracing the smooth edge of the paperweight.
Among imperial fathers and sons, it was not rare for it to end in open conflict, blade against blade, until one side or the other fell.
But… he did not wish for that.
