Echoes of My Heart Throughout the Court

If a fake mustache could look this convincing, maybe they should…

The Minister of Personnel stroked his own genuine long beard, suddenly recalling something that made the corner of his mouth twitch. “I heard that during the prince consort’s time as an official, he was known for his benevolence. Except for heinous criminals, first-time offenders were only subjected to ‘disciplinary punishment’ as a warning. Repeat offenders, however, were punished severely.”

Disciplinary punishment involved leaving a convict’s head hair intact but forcibly shaving off their sideburns and beard. It was typically used for minor offenses.

The old emperor remembered this too and wiped his face with a heavy hand.

At the time, he had been pleased, thinking the prince consort was an exemplary official. He even wanted to promote her, only for his daughter to stop him, claiming the prince consort’s lifelong dream was to remain a local official and serve the people. The emperor had been even more delighted and had rewarded the prince consort generously.

Looking back now, it seemed the desire to serve the people was real, but the “lifelong dream”… not so much. They weren’t avoiding central government roles out of preference—they didn’t dare!

[Come to think of it, the Assistant Minister of the Court of Judicial Review might have some things in common with the prince consort.]

The assistant minister’s face turned pale, as if he had lost too much blood.

Meanwhile, officials from Fuzhou leaned forward with excitement and glee.

Finally, revenge for the time that rascal called Fuzhou people cunning! He deserves punishment!

The other officials perked up as well.

Having just resolved the prince consort’s case, their tense nerves could finally relax. It was the perfect time to enjoy some amusing gossip!

[Middle-aged and balding…]

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Dozens of pairs of eyes landed on the Assistant Minister of the Court of Judicial Review’s head. His smile froze.

The officials from Fuzhou—specifically, the secretary from the Ministry of Justice—muttered, “He’s not bald, though?”

[He’s wearing a wig!]

Ohhh~

Realization dawned upon the crowd of officials.

A wig!

The assistant minister could feel more and more gazes fixating on his wig. He grew indignant: We’re all colleagues here—could you at least try to be subtle? Glancing for three or five seconds is fine, but why are some of you staring for seven or eight seconds? Do you want me to take off my wig and hand it to you for closer inspection?

[He probably uses varnish as hair gel for styling. Maybe he and the prince consort could discuss which works better—lard or varnish.]

[But one’s for a fake mustache, and the other’s for a fake wig. Would the methods even be interchangeable?]

The assistant minister was on the verge of tears.

If you don’t know, then stop speculating! Can’t you just stay quiet and be like an unthinking, silent, wooden beauty—both in words and thoughts?!

A Prince Consort Case concluded, and the people watched with lingering interest.

Some opera masters were inspired and immediately created The New Prince Consort Case, which was sung on the stage—

“So tragic, terrifying!”

“You accuse me of abandoning my husband!”

“You suspect me because of the mark on my back!”

“Fortunately, I repeatedly spoke of Chang’e, and all the poetry and books were discussed!”@@novelbin@@

“Who am I? My surname is Yan, ancestral home Baoding. Unfortunate as I am, both parents deceased, became the prince consort, and only have the princess as my kin~”

“This crime is hard to clarify! This crime is hard to clarify!”

“Thanks to the court, I learned that women’s perspectives may not be shallow! I learned that men’s perspectives may not be profound! Who says women cannot outshine men, only regrettable they are constrained by boundaries! Ah—how I pity blind beauties! How I teach female students! Why does my wife remain confused!”

“Illiterate! Ha! She’s illiterate! Unlike my wife! Not my wife! The case is concluded—”

Actually, the focus was on height, but the opera, as an artistic creation, naturally included dramatic and popular moments for the audience—this certainly didn’t include the prince consort secretly wearing height-boosting insoles.

In the compartment below the stage.

“This opera is written very well.”

At the desk, the Princess of Fangling picked up the brush and wrote: “I learned that women’s perspectives may not be shallow! I learned that men’s perspectives may not be profound! Who says women cannot outshine men, only regrettable they are constrained by boundaries—”

“I like these two lines.”

“I like them too.” The prince consort sighed slightly, “It’s a pity that my identity cannot be revealed, otherwise this opera would be even more perfect.”

A female prince consort, a top scholar—how fitting for those lyrics.

The Princess of Fangling looked at her and smiled slightly: “Not in life, but maybe in death…”

The prince consort’s chest heaved twice, and then a smile suddenly bloomed on her face: “Yes, in death…”

Suddenly, she frowned: “How exactly was the three-petal plum blossom birthmark on my back exposed? I never undress outside, and at home, even when bathing, I never let servants approach.”

The tip of the brush moved slowly across the paper, listing suspect names one by one, then crossing them out. Suddenly, the Princess of Fangling remembered something, her expression freezing between laughter and tears: “I remember now.”

“What?”

The Princess casually tossed the brush aside and laughed: “In the thirtieth year of Tiantong, during that heavy rain in May—do you remember?”

“I remember. At that time, the relentless rain destroyed crops, with water three feet deep in low-lying areas. I went for disaster relief…” The prince consort’s expression shifted from dazed, confused, recalling, to realization: “At that time, my back was scratched by something sharp, tearing my clothes all the way to the undergarment. Could it have been seen by someone with ulterior motives?”

The Princess nodded: “We were cautious at all other times.”

Recalling that moment, the prince consort still felt lingering fear: “At that time, my undergarment fell off, and I was extremely panicked. Fortunately, the Princess comforted me for a long time before I could overcome my fear. Thinking back now, the person who saw my birthmark must not have realized I was a woman. Otherwise, there was no need to fabricate something about a wife; they could have directly exposed me as a woman.”

At first, they had addressed each other coldly as “Princess” and “Prince Consort.” Later, they became respectful, then their simple titles, carrying a hint of propriety, became playful affection.

The Princess hesitated, then spoke what she had wanted to say three years ago: “Stop worrying unnecessarily.”

The prince consort was stunned: “What?”

The Princess glanced at her chest and teased, “This flat plain—without an undergarment, no one would notice.”

Prince Consort: “…”

The Princess joked: “During the fourth and fifth years of Tiantong, the first imperial examinations after the country’s founding had many loopholes, allowing you to slip through. By the second round of exams, body searches were required, and later they even had candidates bathe together. Back then, we were glad you joined the first round. But now, looking at it, perhaps there was no need to feel so relieved—the baths allowed for undergarments, after all.”

Yan Chun glanced at the Princess’s rising chest, then at her own flat one, which no one would suspect: “…”

How infuriating.

At the age of twelve, her talent was widely recognized. Her poetry was admired, and her classmates felt overshadowed. She was taken as a disciple by a great scholar:

Liu Qingyun, courtesy name Guxiang, childhood name Guanyin, from Shuyang, Jiangsu. Born in the 22nd year of Daoguang (1842), died in the 4th year of the Republic of China (1915).

“She was remarkably intelligent from a young age. At four, she could distinguish tones. At six, she began studying under a tutor, excelling in the classics and histories. Particularly skilled in poetry, she also mastered painting and calligraphy. By twelve, she was renowned as a prodigy, with her peers in awe of her talent.”

Later, after marriage, she accompanied her husband to Hua Wen Academy, where she studied under the distinguished scholar Wang Xu. He greatly admired her literary talent, praising her as exceptional.

Liu Qingyun devoted her life to literary creation, producing works across poetry, opera, and other forms. Her notable published works include Poetry Anthology of the Little Penglai Fairy Pavilion, Fragrance Pavilion Lyrics, and more.

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Women Physicians in History: From Yi Zhuo of the Han dynasty, skilled in matchmaking, to renowned physicians such as Bao Gu of the Jin dynasty (acupuncture expert), Zhang Xiaoniang of the Song dynasty (surgery specialist), Tan Yunxian of the Ming dynasty (Miscellaneous Notes of a Female Physician), and Zeng Yi of the Qing dynasty, who practiced medicine and wrote Medical Treatises.