A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City

Jiuzhu had expected Prince Chen to take her to some refined music house or a place frequented by talented scholars and beauties. To her surprise, he brought her to a bridge instead.

A few lonely red lanterns hung from the bridge, and very few pedestrians passed by, making the place feel desolate. Lights drifted lazily along the river's surface, resembling shooting stars taking a break.

"Your Highness, what are we here to see?" Jiuzhu glanced around curiously.

"Shh, here they come." Prince Chen pointed below the bridge, where a wooden boat slowly made its way upstream. Two men stood on the boat, holding fishing nets.

"Fishing on the Lantern Festival? Are there even fish in this river?" Jiuzhu peered down with interest.

Then she watched as the two men used their nets to scoop up the lanterns floating on the water.

Jiuzhu: "..."

"Every year, countless people release lanterns onto the river, leaving behind a mess of debris. So the capital magistrate came up with a solution—sending people to secretly fish them out downstream." Prince Chen didn’t mention that, in his youthful ignorance, he had once released a lantern too.

"The gods will understand as long as the heart is sincere," Jiuzhu said, making a Daoist gesture with her fingers. "Heaven knows everyone’s intentions."

The two of them leaned against the bridge railing, watching the lantern retrieval for a while.

Ever since discovering his own lantern had been fished out, Prince Chen had developed a peculiar fondness for watching others’ lanterns meet the same fate. Because he always observed from secluded spots during the festival, his brothers assumed he simply disliked the bustle of the Lantern Festival.

"It’s almost midnight," Prince Chen said, pulling two red strings from his sleeve. He led Jiuzhu to a tree and handed her one. "Here, tie this to the branch."

Mimicking him, Jiuzhu stood on tiptoe to fasten the string to the tree. "Your Highness, what does this symbolize?"

"It represents safety, health, and freedom from misfortune." Prince Chen let go, smiling as he looked at their intertwined red strings. "Let’s go, I’ll take you home."

No sooner had he spoken than a pair of lovers stood beneath the same tree, sweetly tying their own red strings together.

"My love, once our strings are bound, we’ll never part," the woman murmured.

"Of course, my heart belongs only to you," the man replied.

Prince Chen cleared his throat awkwardly. "Let’s go. They must be outsiders who don’t know the capital’s customs."

"Oh." Jiuzhu glanced back at the couple, then nodded slowly, choosing to believe him.

Only the imperial guards trailing behind them struggled to suppress their laughter.

Every local knew that during the Lantern Festival, lovers tying red strings together symbolized an everlasting bond.

The easier the lie was now, the more awkward the truth would be later.

Men—always so bold in deception, yet so evasive when caught.

Prince Chen held Jiuzhu’s hand as they walked slowly, but eventually, they reached the Ming residence. He had a guard knock on the gate, only releasing her hand when the doors opened. "Go rest early."

Jiuzhu nodded obediently, lifting her skirt to climb the steps while Prince Chen watched her.

"Your Highness." She raised the small dog-shaped lantern in her hand. "Thank you for the lantern. I love it."

Prince Chen looked down at his own lantern. "This one… I love it too."

Though she hadn’t found it after searching street after street, he had managed to buy it.

Perhaps this was what they called a shared heart.

As Jiuzhu stepped into the courtyard with her lantern, she found her father, mother, and brother all seated together, turning to look at her in unison. "You’re back?"

She startled, taking a step back. "You’re all here?"

"Come sit." Lady Shen glanced at the lantern in Jiuzhu’s hand before beckoning her over.

"Did you enjoy your time with Prince Chen?" She checked her daughter’s hands, relieved to find them warm and unharmed.

"It was wonderful." Jiuzhu nodded. "On the way, we ran into Prince Huai. He said some strange things."

She recounted Prince Huai’s words to her family.

"Prince Huai may seem simple, but he’s sharp-minded. Take only two parts of his words seriously," Ming Jingzhou advised. "His consort is the daughter of Wu Mian, the Ministry of Works’ deputy minister. Though Wu has his petty schemes, he’s fundamentally a decent official. You needn’t worry too much when interacting with Prince Huai’s consort, as long as you avoid political discussions."

"Father, are you saying Prince Huai wants…" She lowered her voice. "The throne?"

"What prince doesn’t?" Ming Jingzhou analyzed the princes and their consorts for Jiuzhu. "With the fourth prince’s fall from grace, the eldest prince benefits the most. Before, the fourth prince overshadowed Prince Huai in reputation, despite being the eldest."

"His words to Prince Chen aren’t genuine submission—he’s wary of Empress Su’s favor with the Emperor." Ming Jingzhou shook his head. "This generation of princes pales in comparison to the last."

Empress Su had only just been enthroned, yet Prince Huai was already currying favor with Prince Chen—too eager, too insincere.

Unless Prince Chen was a fool, he’d never fall for it.

"What did Prince Chen say?"

"Nothing. He just took me out to enjoy the festival." Jiuzhu smiled, recalling how Prince Chen had told her not to pay Prince Huai much mind after leaving the tavern. "He didn’t seem interested in engaging with him either."

Ming Jingzhou relaxed. With the Emperor still in his prime, he worried Prince Chen might entertain improper ambitions now that Lady Su was empress.

"It’s late—let the child sleep," Lady Shen interjected. "Relatives will start sending dowry gifts soon. If she doesn’t rest well tonight, she’ll be exhausted tomorrow."

As the wedding drew nearer, her heart felt emptier. She checked and rechecked the dowry list, terrified of missing something.

Even her dreams were haunted by worries over her daughter’s marriage.

She… couldn’t bear to let go.

By the time Prince Chen returned to Kirin Palace, it was very late. A eunuch helped him remove his outer robe. "Your Highness, was the capital lively tonight?"

"Very." Prince Chen removed his jade crown. "Brilliant lights—quite entertaining."

As he washed his face, he remembered the lantern. "Take care of the lantern I brought back. Don’t damage it."

"Rest assured, we’ve stored it safely." The eunuch, emboldened by his good mood, ventured, "With Lady Su’s enthronement today, all the servants in Kirin Palace wish to pay their respects to Your Highness. Would you…?"

"Who suggested this?" Prince Chen’s expression darkened, his gaze turning stormy. "Five princes reside in Kirin Palace. Should all the servants come bow to me alone?"

The eunuch dropped to his knees in fright.

"Investigate who started this," Prince Chen sneered. "Once identified, hand them to the Palace Administration and report it to Chief Eunuch Liu Zhongbao. I can’t be bothered with such trivialities."

Since his father’s ascension, he could strut through the palace unchallenged—did he need the homage of a few Kirin Palace servants?

By ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​‍the next morning, the incident had already reached Liu Zhongbao’s ears.

"Since when would someone as noble as His Highness Prince Chen be swayed by such trivial flatteries?" Liu Zhongbao sneered. "At this point, if they still refuse to behave, do they all wish to follow in Lady Zheng’s footsteps?"

"Those who lack sense have no place in the palace." Liu Zhongbao waved his hand dismissively. "Deal with them according to palace regulations—just ensure no blood is spilled. His Highness’s grand wedding approaches. We mustn’t let these worthless creatures taint the palace."

"Eunuch Liu, a maid from the Imperial Wardrobe Bureau passed away last night."

"Oh?" Liu Zhongbao rubbed his temples, and a young eunuch immediately stepped forward to attend to him.

"What was her name? Where did she serve before?"

"The maid was called Hong Mei. She was once Lady Zheng’s first-rank personal attendant."

"Hong Mei?" Liu Zhongbao vaguely recalled her. "How did she die?"

"She ingested something by mistake. Before her death, she wailed in agony for nearly half an hour before finally succumbing."

"Then bury her quietly. No fuss. Hang two feet of red cloth in her quarters to ward off ill omens." Liu Zhongbao’s tone carried a veiled warning. "In this harem, those who betray their masters never meet a good end. All of you, remember this well—no matter whom you serve, serve faithfully. A servant shares their master’s shame, joy, and sorrow. Those who forget this will learn their lesson the hard way."

"Thank you for your guidance, Eunuch." The young eunuchs trembled in fear.

"Xiao Li, Xiao De." Liu Zhongbao pointed at two of them. "Accompany me to inspect Kirin Palace. With Prince Chen’s wedding imminent, not a single misstep can be tolerated."

Kirin Palace was reserved for imperial princes. Since the founding of the Great Cheng Dynasty, only five princes had resided there—each deeply cherished by the Emperor.

If not for a beloved son, why else would it bear the name "Kirin"?

Stepping inside, every plant and decoration had been freshly replaced. The pillars and corridors gleamed with new lacquer, and the finest incense burned daily to repel pests.

However, Prince Chen had explicitly forbidden incense in his chambers. Instead, fresh flowers and fruits adorned every room, replaced every three hours, filling Kirin Palace with a delicate, natural fragrance.

Red candles, red silks, red lanterns—even the servants stationed there had been meticulously chosen for auspicious birth charts. Liu Zhongbao wiped every corner with a white handkerchief before nodding in approval. "Satisfactory. Stay sharp. If anyone ruins this, don’t blame me for being merciless."

"Eunuch Liu." A young eunuch approached and whispered, "The Fourth Prince’s consort has sent word. She requests a maid from Qianyi Pavilion."

Liu Zhongbao flicked his horsetail whisk. "Since the Fourth Prince’s consort personally asked, this old servant must oblige. Send the girl over."

He recalled that Lady Zheng had another first-rank maid named Bai Shao. No doubt, she was the one the Fourth Prince wanted.

Bai Shao stood outside Zhangliu Palace, clutching her bundle. She smoothed the worn fabric of her dress and stepped through the gates with bowed head.

In the outer courtyard, several princes busied themselves with their own affairs, paying no heed to the entering maid.

"Your Highness." A eunuch hurried past her, rushing to Prince Chen’s side. "Your Highness, the Palace Administration Bureau says the item you requested is unavailable."

"Then have it made anew." Prince Chen clicked his tongue. "It must be ready before my wedding."

Bai Shao snapped out of her daze. The wedding between County Princess Ming and Prince Chen was mere days away.

"Wait." Prince Chen called the eunuch back. "First, deliver this to County Princess Ming for me."

Bai Shao glanced over. In Prince Chen’s hand was what appeared to be...

A letter?

"Your Highness, just the letter? Nothing else?"

"Why waste words?" Prince Chen’s brow furrowed slightly. "If the County Princess writes a reply, wait at the Ming residence and bring it back to me."

The servants of Zhangliu Palace were far inferior to the seasoned attendants he was accustomed to.

Tch. Not a shred of perceptiveness among them!