A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City

“What kind of painting is this?” The woman in gray robes took the painting, her expression growing increasingly strange as she examined it. “Who would use such a painting to impersonate Jiuzhu? Are they out of their mind?”

“What about the letter?”

“I haven’t read it yet.” The woman in green robes found the letter and handed it directly to her. “Here, Eldest Sister.”

The two huddled together to read the letter, then fell into silence.

“The mastermind behind this really must be a fool,” the woman in green—Jiuzhu’s Second Master—tossed the envelope onto the stone table. “Our Jiuzhu would never let palace maids and eunuchs bully her, nor would she weep under the moonlight…”

“Mm.” The Eldest Master glanced at the dilapidated Taoist temple. “The roof of our temple needs repairs. It’s rare to encounter a scammer—we can’t let him get away.”

“But…” The Second Master hesitated. “Won’t we scare him off?”

“Since he’s already here, he can’t just leave so easily.”

The messenger waited at the foot of the mountain for two days. When he returned to the temple, he spotted the woman he had met earlier standing anxiously at the end of the path, as if relieved to see him.

“Reverend, have you read the Princess Consort’s letter? What do you intend to do?”

“We raised Miss Ming with our own hands. How could I bear to see her suffer in the capital?” The woman’s face was full of worry. “Is Prince Chen treating her poorly?”

“Ah, Prince Chen has always been arrogant and domineering, with terrible relations with the civil officials. The Princess Consort is from the Ming family—how could the prince truly care for her?” Seeing the woman so flustered she didn’t know what to do with her hands, the messenger felt a surge of satisfaction. She was easy to manipulate.

“I must go to the capital to see her at once.”

The messenger’s eyes lit up.

“But…”

“But what?” His heart tightened. His Highness had specifically ordered him to bring the Taoist masters who raised Ming Jiuzhu to the capital—only then could they turn her into a pawn in their plans.

“But my Eldest Sister is frail. If I take her to the capital, I fear her health won’t hold up. Yet if I leave her here alone, the mountains lack food and supplies, and the roof still leaks. I can’t rest easy.”

“These are trivial matters. Grain, oil, rice, and temple repairs—I’ll handle everything.” The messenger thought to himself: as long as he could coax them to the capital, renovating the temple was nothing.

“How could we trouble you to spend—”

“Reverend, don’t say such things. The Princess Consort is my great benefactor. Renovating the temple for her masters is the least I can do.” The messenger clasped his hands in salute. “Please wait here. I’ll go prepare at once.”

“Kind patron, kind patron—”

The messenger hurried off, afraid that if he slowed down, the woman might change her mind.

Two hours later, he returned with a group of workers, hammering and sawing away. They even cleared the weeds from the mountain path, leaving it spotless.

“Reverend, rest assured. In less than five days, your temple will be completely renewed.”

“Thank you, kind patron.” The woman smiled. “Since you’ve come to the temple, why not join me in paying respects at the main hall?”

“After you, Reverend.”

Stepping into the main hall, the messenger was surprised to see the shabby space enshrined only the Three Pure Ones. No other deities were present, making it seem stark and impoverished.

“Forgive our humble temple. We lack the funds to gild the statues of the Heavenly Lords.” The woman handed him incense. “Kind patron, please.”

The three statues looked ancient but not broken. Kneeling on the cushion, the messenger couldn’t shake the feeling that their eyes were fixed on him.

He hastily lit the incense, not daring to meet their gaze. “Reverend, I would be honored to gild these statues.”

Before setting out, his superior had given him two hundred taels of silver. At this rate, he’d be begging before even reaching the capital.

But to gain the woman’s trust, he had no choice but to spend it.

That night, he sent a carrier pigeon with a message, begging his superior to send funds from their agents in Lingzhou.

This wretched temple was bleeding him dry.

Four days later, clutching his empty purse, the messenger forced a smile as he surveyed the newly gilded statues, the stocked pantry, the fresh furniture, and the freshly painted walls. “Every day we delay, the Princess Consort suffers. Reverend, please accompany me to the capital today.”

“Very well.” The woman nodded. “Behind the temple is a flower field. Miss Ming loved these flowers as a child. Would you gather some for her?”

The messenger wanted to argue that even the most beautiful flowers would wilt before reaching the capital.

“Of course. Please wait a moment.” No matter—as long as she followed him to the capital, he could endure it.

“Thank you.”

The woman watched as he stepped into the flower field, smiling when he suddenly collapsed face-first into the blossoms.

“Ah, how forgetful of me. I forgot to warn you—these flowers are poisonous. Their scent induces unconsciousness.” She walked over to the unconscious messenger, pulled a rope from her sleeve, and tied him up tightly before dragging him out of the field.

“According to the laws of the Great Cheng, impersonating a noble’s servant for fraud and deceit warrants at least ten years of hard labor—twenty, at most.” The Second Master clapped her hands, nudging the unconscious man with her foot before looking up at the Eldest Master perched on the roof. “Eldest Sister, have the authorities arrived yet?”

“They’ll be here soon.” She nibbled on the pastries the messenger had brought up the mountain and sighed. “Such a foolish yet wealthy scammer—so useful.”

“Indeed.” The Second Master nodded. “I hope two more come along next time.”

Scammers this good were hard to come by.

“Your Highness.” A blue-robed eunuch hurried into the courtyard, spotting the Fourth Prince’s consort and promptly bowing. “Greetings to Your Highness and the Princess Consort.”

“At ease.” Yun Yanze turned to Sun Caiyao. “Caiyao, the peach blossoms outside are in full bloom. Why not take Bai Shao for a stroll?”

“Very well.” Sun Caiyao recognized this eunuch—it was he who had informed Yun Yanze of Ming Jiuzhu’s whereabouts at the Taoist temple half a month ago.

“What happened?” Once Sun Caiyao left, Yun Yanze’s smile vanished.

“Eleventh has been thrown into prison.”

“What?” Yun Yanze thought he’d misheard. “Explain.”

“He… he was exposed.” The eunuch shrank back. “The masters who raised the Princess Consort of Chen realized he was a fraud and reported him to the authorities.”

“Two old women from the remote mountains—even if they noticed something off, he should’ve escaped. How did they even get the chance to report him?” Yun Yanze took a deep breath. “Make sure he keeps his mouth shut.”

“Your Highness need not worry. We’ve already arranged it.”

“Not worry?” Yun Yanze let out a mocking laugh, glaring at the eunuch. “How can I not worry?”

Each of these men was a carefully trained agent, yet they’d been outsmarted by a pair of old women and handed over to the authorities. What a joke.

Sun Caiyao sat in the courtyard, watching the dejected eunuch leave before lowering her gaze. “Bai Shao, tell me—what is so special about Ming Jiuzhu?”

Bai Shao bowed her head. “This servant does not know.”

“You’re not a man, so of course you wouldn’t understand.” Sun Caiyao stood and walked toward the peach grove—rumored to have been planted by the Emperor himself for Empress Su.

Bai Shao followed behind her: "The Princess Consort of Chen spends all her time with Prince Chen. Even if she is truly likable, it’s Prince Chen who finds her so. There’s no need for you to dwell on what makes her appealing to men."

"Aunt Bai Shao," Sun Caiyao stopped and turned to look at her, "your words sound as if you’re defending Ming Jiuzhu."

"This servant wouldn’t dare. I merely wish to spare you the trouble of concerning yourself with irrelevant people." Bai Shao curtsied. "Your Highness, the Princess Consort of Chen, now married, can never be a threat to you."

"Yes, she never was." Sun Caiyao suddenly deflated, standing outside the peach grove. She knew none of this had anything to do with Ming Jiuzhu.

But if she couldn’t blame her, who else was there to resent?

Herself? Or His Highness?

That white-robed young man on horseback had been so dazzlingly radiant. For the first time in her dull, rule-bound life, she had secretly allowed herself to fall in love.

"The peach blossoms are about to wither."

"Reluctant to see them fade?"

"Flowers bloom and fall as they should. I’m just counting how many months until we can eat peaches."

"Come here."

"What for?"

"Jump up. I’ll carry you on my back."

"Won’t others see?"

"Let them see. It’s only natural for this prince to carry his own wife. Who would dare gossip?"

"Alright!" Jiuzhu happily threw herself onto Prince Chen’s back, resting her head against his shoulder. After just two steps, she clutched her head. "Your Highness, lower yourself a bit—quick, quick! My hair’s caught on the peach branches!"

Sun Caiyao watched from a distance as Ming Jiuzhu, her hair tangled in the branches, exchanged silly smiles with Prince Chen. She silently retreated a few steps, ensuring they wouldn’t notice her.

"My fault for being too tall." Prince Chen eyed the stray lock of hair dangling in front of Jiuzhu’s face, suppressing a laugh as he bent his head toward her. "Here, you can pull my hair if you want."

"No, that would hurt." Jiuzhu blew at the unruly strand, then took Prince Chen’s hand. "Never mind. Just lead me back."

The palace maids and eunuchs behind them stifled giggles.

Prince Chen glanced at the snickering attendants, then swept Jiuzhu into his arms. "Let’s go back to the palace. No more laughing for them."

Jiuzhu nestled against his chest, laughing first herself.

Sun Caiyao watched as peach blossoms rained down upon them, as if such beauty, such liveliness, such joy were always meant to be theirs.

Even disturbing this warmth would feel like a sin.

"Bai Shao," Sun Caiyao murmured dazedly, "I…"

I envy her.

The realization filled her with shame.

When had she become so ugly?

Back at Kirin Palace, after her nap, Jiuzhu sat before the mirror fixing her hair. A servant announced that Consort Zhang and Princess Roude had arrived with gifts.

"Invite them in."

Outside ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‍Kirin Palace, Consort Zhang repeatedly warned her daughter not to provoke the Princess Consort of Chen.

"That woman is ruthless—she once stabbed a doll inscribed with her birthdate without batting an eye." The memory still made Consort Zhang’s legs tremble.

She had always bullied the weak and feared the strong, and Ming Jiuzhu was the kind of strong she dreaded.

Women who made empty threats weren’t truly formidable. Those like Ming Jiuzhu were the real danger.

"Mother, you don’t need to remind me. I remember." Princess Roude gazed at the Kirin Palace plaque. More than Ming Jiuzhu, she feared her younger brother, Yun Duqing.

"Your Highness, Princess Roude, Consort Zhang, our princess consort invites you in."

Princess Roude knew Ming Jiuzhu had little interest in idle chatter. After exchanging greetings, she cut straight to the point. "I’ve come to thank you, sister-in-law."

The incident involving witchcraft—a grave taboo in the palace—would have implicated countless servants had Ming Jiuzhu not dismissed the cursed doll as a mere cloth plaything. Thanks to her, Consort Zhang and Princess Roude could still sit here unharmed.

"No thanks are necessary. I only spoke the truth." Jiuzhu set down her teacup. "Please don’t dwell on it."

"There’s another matter I wished to share." Princess Roude continued, "A maid in my service has a fellow villager working in the Palace Administration Bureau. She recently learned that someone has been inquiring about your handwriting and the location of the Taoist temple where you stayed in Lingzhou."

"I don’t know their intentions, but I thought you should be aware, so you can take precautions." Princess Roude stood. "Now that my message is delivered, I’ll take my leave."

In the palace, no secret remained hidden forever—only the willingness to keep it varied.

"Thank you for telling me." Jiuzhu rose.

"No need. You helped my mother greatly. Repaying you with a tidbit of information is my gain."

In the palace, debts of gratitude were best settled early.

After Consort Zhang and Princess Roude departed, Chunfen whispered to Jiuzhu, "Miss, Princess Roude likely knows who’s investigating you."

"That doesn’t matter." Jiuzhu rubbed her chin. "What puzzles me is why they’d go through the trouble of asking the Palace Administration Bureau when they could simply check the Imperial Astronomical Bureau for such details?"

If someone so inept truly intended to scheme against her two masters…

"Supreme Taiyi, Deliverer of Calamities." Jiuzhu murmured the Taoist incantation.

If anyone sought out her masters, it would be their own karma to bear.

They sowed the cause; her masters would deliver the consequence.

No delay in between.