A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City

Though the Ming Family held great prestige among scholars, Prince Chen noticed they didn’t indulge in overly literary speech. Their meals weren’t accompanied by flowery verses either—they occasionally remarked on mundane things, like how goods at the east market were cheaper than the west.

Before his visit, he had worried the Ming elders might propose drinking games or impromptu poetry contests, so he crammed several anthologies. None of it proved useful.

"This spring rain came just in time. Let’s hope the common folk have a good harvest." Ming Jingzhou raised his teacup. "Your Highness must return to the palace tonight, so wine is inadvisable. This humble official offers tea in its stead, toasting you."

When their cups met, Prince Chen deliberately held his lower than Ming Jingzhou’s. The older man gripped his wrist. "Your Highness, no. You are the sovereign, I the subject. How can my cup stand higher than yours?"

"You are the elder, I the junior. Respecting one’s seniors is only natural."

As they bickered, Jiuzhu set down her chopsticks, clasped their wrists, and clinked their cups together. "Just drink."

The two men looked at her and laughed in unison.

One upheld propriety between ruler and subject, for his daughter’s sake.

One set aside his status to honor his father-in-law, for his wife’s sake.

They thought Jiuzhu hadn’t noticed these gestures. But she saw everything.

The tea’s fragrance was crisp, its sweetness lingering.

"Your Highness," Ming Jinghai began, setting down his chopsticks, "by ancestral custom, when His Majesty holds the empress’s coronation, a pardon decree is issued to signify her honored status. What form should this pardon take? Speak freely—we’re family here."

"Pardons typically spare minor offenders, waive taxes, or grant extra imperial exams." Prince Chen answered without hesitation. "But pardoning criminals wrongs their victims. Tax exemptions invite disputes over scope and duration. Only additional exams serve well—they recruit talent for the court and face no opposition."

More importantly, the literati would support it.

Scholars sitting these exams would hesitate to criticize the empress. A single move yielding triple gains.

"An excellent choice. Shared interests resolve many conflicts." Ming Jinghai regarded the Fifth Prince with approval. This young man was more promising than he’d expected.

The rift between the literati and Prince Chen’s faction stemmed from years of disagreements.

But if the prince suddenly embraced their ideals, their perception of him would shift dramatically.

After the meal, Ming Jinghai asked Ming Jingzhou, "Third Brother, let’s find some afternoon diversion. None of those refined arrow-tossing or poetry games—something lively."

"Cards?" Ming Jingzhou glanced at Prince Chen. "Your Highness, do you play?"

"A little." The prince thought wryly—who in the empire could rival his skill?

"Then we four men shall play, while Jiuzhu chats with her mother." Ming Jingzhou summoned a servant for cards and imparted marital wisdom: "Women despise men hovering during their talks. When they converse, we belong in the shadows."

"When women lose their temper—tsk." Ming Jingzhou lowered his voice. "Utterly terrifying."

Prince Chen glanced at Jiuzhu, laughing with her mother. How terrifying could she be?

His Jiuzhu was too kind-hearted to ever rage at him.

"Four?" Ming Cunfu scanned the group. "Wait, aren’t we five men?"

"Go study." Ming Jinghai dismissed him coldly. "A man without rank or office is no man at all."

"Those without even a fiancée are the unworthy ones," Ming Cunfu muttered, too softly for his father to hear, before darting off.

Ming Jiyuan: "..."

Who was that jab aimed at?!

Two rounds into the game, Prince Chen realized the Ming men’s literary brilliance didn’t extend to cards.

They played their hands bluntly, oblivious to opponents’ strategies.

Letting them win without detection was harder than defeating them outright.

"With those pitiful skills, they dare challenge His Highness?" Shen Ying chuckled, watching the four men at the pavilion. "Your father and brother’s salaries won’t cover their losses."

"Don’t worry, Mother. His Highness wouldn’t dare defeat them." Jiuzhu smiled. "Last night, he grilled me on what topics our family prefers for poetry."

"I told him Father rarely versifies at home. He didn’t believe me."

"He used to compose often." Shen Ying’s gaze softened. "But not this past year."

Before Jiuzhu’s return, he’d drink on mid-autumn nights, penning odes to his lost daughter before the wine reached half.

Perhaps fulfilled hearts lack poetry’s melancholy fuel.

"I’d love to read Father’s verses."

"He never keeps them—scribbles and discards. None survive." Shen Ying steered the topic away, unwilling to revisit those sorrow-laden lines. "Are you settling well in the palace?"

"Perfectly. The attendants are attentive, and His Majesty and the empress send frequent inquiries." Jiuzhu squeezed her mother’s hand. "Her Majesty treats me as always."

"Good, good." Shen Ying noted Jiuzhu’s palace-made hairpins and knew she spoke true. "Your four sisters-in-law hail from noble houses, but you’re no lesser. Don’t cower before them."

"Mother... Fourth Prince’s consort seems odd. Is there history between our families and the Suns?"

"The Suns are old scholarly aristocracy. Our Ming ancestors were obscure until your father’s generation—your uncles took top honors, he ranked third, and our status rose. Later..."

Shen Ying paused. "Never mind. We’ve severed ties with the Ming Family of Lingzhou. No use dwelling on it."

"Though respected among scholars now, the Suns have always scorned us." She hesitated, then confessed: "Last spring, His Majesty considered marrying Prince Chen to a Sun daughter. They... demurred."

"But Sun Caiyao married the Fourth Prince." Jiuzhu recalled no Sun discontent with that match.

"Because the initial candidate was Prince Chen." Shen Ying patted Jiuzhu’s startled hand. "Before formal proposals, rumors spread of Sun Caiyao boating intimately with the Fourth Prince. Since he’s elder, the match shifted to him."

"Marriage is a matter of fate. Miss Sun and Prince Chen were not destined to be together, so there's no need for you to dwell on it." Shen Ying took a sip of tea. "I'm telling you this because I fear the gossip in the palace might twist a simple matter into something complicated, stirring up conflict between you and Prince Chen."

"Is that why she's been acting so strangely toward me?" Jiuzhu grew even more puzzled. "What's the point?"

"People's hearts are all different. You don't need to understand others' motives—just know your own mind and what you truly want. That way, you won't be swayed by them."

"I just want my family to be safe and well, for His Highness and Her Majesty the Empress to remain unharmed, and for my two masters to achieve enlightenment in their cultivation." Jiuzhu thought carefully. "It seems I don’t ask for much else."

Those who desire nothing fear nothing.

What seems like wanting little is, in truth, a great ambition.

Shen Ying smiled—her daughter was wise.

Ming Jingzhou, who rarely won at cards, finally managed to triumph a few times against his son-in-law. In high spirits, he praised Prince Chen: "Your Highness is naturally brilliant. If you devoted yourself to study, you could surpass the other princes in just a few days."

Back when he was in the Ministry of Rites, the first time he tested Prince Chen on policy essays, he had noticed the prince’s extraordinary memory and ability to apply knowledge creatively—a promising scholar, had he been inclined to take the imperial exams.

Unfortunately, the prince’s heart wasn’t in his studies, and as a royal, he had no need to worry about official advancement.

"You flatter me, Father-in-law." Prince Chen split a straight flush in his hand and played the smallest card. "It’s all thanks to your guidance."

"Even the finest sculptor can’t carve a flower from rotten wood." Ming Jingzhou’s eyes lit up when he saw the card Prince Chen played, and he quickly tossed out a low card he’d been struggling to use. "Don’t sell yourself short."

Listening to the two men exchange compliments, Ming Jinghai nearly crumpled his cards in frustration. Could they spare a thought for him?

"Uncle, I’ve finished reading all the military texts you lent me last time." Prince Chen glanced at Ming Jinghai’s hand and lied without hesitation. "I can’t beat that play."

"You’ve ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‍finished them?" Ming Jinghai, pleased that no one could counter his move, happily collected the cards.

"I never expected Uncle, as a civil official, to possess such a talent for military strategy." Prince Chen praised. "Had you pursued the path of a general, you’d surely be a revered commander."

Ming Jinghai preened. "Of course. Even my swordsmanship master said I had the makings of a great general. But my gift for literature was even greater, so I chose the imperial examinations instead."

After lauding his uncle, Prince Chen didn’t forget to compliment his brother-in-law, Ming Jiyuan, expressing great anticipation for his upcoming appointment at the Court of Judicial Review.

By the end of the game, all three Ming men had won a few hands, and Prince Chen hadn’t lost much either. It was a harmonious gathering, full of joy.

At dinner, Ming Jingzhou even praised Prince Chen in front of Jiuzhu.

As night fell after the meal, the earlier cheer gave way to the sorrow of parting. Holding Jiuzhu’s hand, Prince Chen said to the Ming family seeing them off, "Rest assured, I will bring Jiuzhu home often so we may all be together again."

"We trust Your Highness will keep your word." Ming Jingzhou smiled. "Tomorrow at court, I will propose to His Majesty the opening of a special examination. He won’t agree immediately. In the afternoon, I and several officials from the Six Ministries will go to Taiyang Palace to persuade him. Your Highness may join us to lend support. Do not worry—this is also His Majesty’s intention."

Prince Chen bowed to Ming Jingzhou. "Thank you, Father-in-law. I will remember."

His father and father-in-law were helping him win the favor of civil officials.

"Wait!" Ming Jiyuan suddenly remembered the female Daoist who had visited the Ming family days earlier. "Sister, I have something for you—a gift from your two masters, sent by messenger."

"My masters?" Jiuzhu was surprised.

"I was so happy to see you today that I nearly forgot." Ming Jiyuan turned and hurried off. "Wait here with His Highness. I’ll be right back."