Yu-Jin was born to Noble Consort Xian, who was Ji Chong-Yi’s paternal aunt. By all rights and custom, Yu-Jin should have been present at the wedding ceremony at Duke An’s mansion today for Ji Chong-Yi’s marriage.
In her previous life, this had indeed been the case.
Therefore, when circumstances deviated from her past life, Jiang-Si was extremely surprised. Since her reincarnation, she had deliberately changed many things but matters she hadn’t interfered with should have followed the same trajectory as before.
What had caused Seventh Prince Yu-Jin to change?
Jiang-Si’s thoughts were in turmoil, unable to make sense of it.
From across the crowd, Yu-Jin met Jiang-Si’s gaze and smiled gently at her.
Reflexively, Jiang-Si immediately lowered the carriage curtain.
The thin, elegantly bamboo-patterned curtain swayed gently, much like the stirring thoughts in a young lady’s heart.
Seeing Jiang-Si’s reaction, Yu-Jin paused momentarily, his eyes betraying a hint of disappointment before he smiled resignedly and quietly turned away into the sea of people.
Jiang-Si bit her lip and, as if possessed, lifted the curtain again.
The crowd outside remained thick with people, but his figure had vanished.
She lowered the curtain and leaned silently against the carriage wall.
“Fourth Sister, were you frightened by that large dog earlier?” Jiang-Qiao noticed Jiang-Si’s unusual demeanor and placed a hand on her shoulder. After just one visit to Marquis Chang-Xing’s mansion, the sisters had naturally grown closer.
“No,” Jiang-Si smiled.
Er-Niu was quite the attention-seeking dog. Teasing the groom was nothing – she should be thankful it hadn’t dragged a corpse from the Marquis’s garden to parade through the streets.
Thinking of this, Jiang-Si suddenly felt sympathy for Yu-Jin.
As the master, he must have had to clean up quite a few messes.
Meanwhile, the very person Jiang-Si was pitying had returned to his residence in Quezi Hutong. Facing the empty courtyard, Yu-Jin called out, “Er-Niu, come out!”
Soon after, Er-Niu came trotting out, tail wagging and placed the groom’s ceremonial hat at Yu-Jin’s feet.
Yu-Jin stared silently at the plume on the hat.
Perhaps he had raised a spirit in the canine form…
The hidden guard Long-Dan appeared from nowhere to tattle: “Master, Er-Niu went too far! How could it cause such chaos at a young master’s wedding?”
This impudent dog enjoyed more favor than him in the master’s eyes – he’d been waiting for this chance to point out its misdeeds!
“Chaos?” Yu-Jin raised an eyebrow, then patted Er-Niu’s head. “Not at all. I think Er-Niu acted exactly as I would have wished.”
Long-Dan blinked, asking earnestly, “Master, surely you’re joking?”
Yu-Jin gave Long-Dan a sideways glance.
Long-Dan scratched his head.
It made no sense – the groom was Master’s cousin, so why would he approve of Er-Niu’s mischief?
Could it be that young master had somehow offended Master?
Long-Dan’s thoughts raced, but he couldn’t figure out how the Third Young Master of Duke An’s household could have possibly offended his master.
Master had only recently returned from the south, and even if there wasn’t much familial affection between cousins, this reaction seemed odd.
Er-Niu barked triumphantly at Long-Dan.
Long-Dan was vexed.
His heart ached – Master and Er-Niu must share some secret he wasn’t privy to!
As Long-Dan wallowed in self-pity, the doorkeeper came to report: “Someone has arrived from the palace.”
“Show them in,” Yu-Jin said calmly.
Er-Niu immediately grabbed the ceremonial hat and disappeared.
Soon, the doorkeeper led in a beardless, pale-faced eunuch.
“Greetings, Your Highness.”
“What brings the Public Servant here?” Yu-Jin remained seated on the stone bench, not bothering to rise.
The eunuch dared not show any displeasure and smiled, “Her Majesty sent this humble servant to inquire why Your Highness did not attend the celebration at Duke An’s mansion with the Prince today.”
The Prince the eunuch referred to was Yu-Jin’s elder brother, the current Emperor’s fourth son, who had been granted the title of Prince Qi.
Speaking of which, Seventh Prince Yu-Jin’s position was rather awkward.
On the day of his birth, the newly enthroned Emperor Jingming suddenly fell gravely ill. When the imperial physicians were at a loss, the Empress Dowager had no choice but to post-imperial notices seeking medical help. A Daoist priest who responded claimed that Emperor Jingming’s illness was connected to the newborn Seventh Prince – their Eight Characters conflicted, and they could not peacefully coexist. For the Emperor to recover, the Seventh Prince would need to live outside the palace until he turned eighteen.
The Empress Dowager was skeptical but, seeing the Emperor’s condition unchanged, decided to try moving the Seventh Prince out of the palace. Sure enough, Emperor Jingming gradually recovered.
From then on, Yu-Jin never returned to the palace.
According to Great Zhou’s customs, princes were supposed to be granted their principalities at sixteen, but when Yu-Jin turned sixteen, he was in the south with no one to arrange the matter, so it was quietly overlooked.
Now that Yu-Jin had returned to the capital, he still couldn’t see Emperor Jingming before turning eighteen. The Minister of the Imperial Clan was uncertain of the Emperor’s attitude toward this prince and naturally wouldn’t raise the matter of granting him a principality unbidden.
This created an awkward situation where even the Eighth Prince, younger than Yu-Jin, had been granted the title of Prince Xiang, while the Seventh Prince remained just that – the Seventh Prince…
Yu-Jin showed no concern about this whatsoever.
Being an insignificant prince made it easier to obtain what his heart truly desired.
For instance, if the Crown Prince wished to marry a lady who had broken off a previous engagement, it would be nearly impossible.
At this thought, Yu-Jin’s lips curved into a slight smile, appearing somewhat foolish.
The visiting eunuch was bewildered.
Though the Seventh Prince’s smile was more beautiful than any palace beauty’s, what exactly was His Highness smiling about?
Could it be that years of unfair treatment had warped his personality?
As if confirming the eunuch’s thoughts, Yu-Jin emerged from his reverie and said flatly, “Well, I just didn’t feel like going.”
The eunuch: “…”
After a moment, Yu-Jin asked, “Does the Public Servant have any other business?”
The eunuch nearly burst into tears.
With His Highness giving such a direct reason, what was he supposed to do?
When Noble Consort Xian asked upon his return to the palace, how could he simply say the Seventh Prince didn’t feel like going? Just imagining her reaction made him shudder.
“Is… is that all? Duke An’s mansion is your maternal family…”
Yu-Jin gave the eunuch a cold look, seemingly annoyed at his persistence: “We’re not close.”
Internally, Yu-Jin laughed coldly.
Not only was he unfamiliar with his maternal family, but even his blood relatives in the palace were no different from strangers to him.
He could somewhat understand that his father, as Emperor, had to heed the Daoist priest’s warning about their conflicting fates, but in all these years since he’d been sent from the palace, his mother hadn’t tried to see him even once, nor sent him so much as a piece of clothing or a pair of shoes.
In his younger years, Yu-Jin had felt hurt and resentful, but now he felt only indifference.
They truly weren’t close at all.
“Would the Public Servant like to stay for a meal?”
“This humble servant thanks Your Highness, but Her Majesty awaits my report.” The eunuch emphasized the word “report,” giving Yu-Jin a chance to change his answer.
Yu-Jin raised an eyebrow slightly: “See the guest out.”
A magnificent, imposing large dog came trotting over, wagging its tail.
The eunuch fled at top speed.
Yu-Jin looked at Er-Niu and sighed: “I meant for Long-Dan to see him out.”
Er-Niu looked up at the sky.
What? It couldn’t understand a single word.