—
Prince Hui’s residence.
Zhao Sui ate his midday meal alone in the bamboo courtyard. After the meal, he rested for the customary two quarters of an hour before receiving his massage. Just as he finished wiping himself down and was preparing to head to Ming’an Hall, one of the guards who had escorted the princess consort to the palace returned, reporting that the princess consort had become slightly drunk and would rest at the Grand Princess’s quarters until after her afternoon nap before returning to the residence.
Zhao Sui’s mind immediately raced with numerous thoughts.
Had the princess consort gotten drunk on her own, or had she inadvertently fallen into someone’s trap?
The Grand Princess’s temperament resembled Empress Zhou’s, so she should be able to take good care of her.
If she was drunk, how long would she sleep at the palace?
Zhao Sui still went to Ming’an Hall, where he rested and read in the front courtyard.
At the first quarter of the hour of Shen, Qing Ai reported from outside that the princess consort had returned. Zhao Sui, holding his book, had Qing Ai push him to the main hall.
Naturally, the princess consort who had returned to the residence needed to come greet the prince. When the princess consort’s figure appeared at the entrance to the main hall, Zhao Sui looked up to see that she had completely changed from her high spirits when she left. She stopped outside the door, head slightly lowered, only daring to steal glances at him, as if she had committed some wrongdoing and feared being scolded.
Zhao Sui set down his book and said, “Come in.”
Yao Huang walked in very slowly.
When she reached the long table and lowered her head again, it became pointless, because Prince Hui was seated in his wheelchair—the lower she bowed, the easier it was to meet his eyes.
Zhao Sui noticed the princess consort’s slightly reddened eyes.
He frowned. “You cried at the palace?”
Yao Huang nodded reluctantly, not really wanting to admit it.
Zhao Sui asked, “Why?”
Yao Huang glanced at Prince Hui, then suddenly came around behind him and began pushing the wheelchair toward the exit while saying, “It’s not convenient to talk here. Let me take you somewhere else to explain.”
Very quickly, Zhao Sui found himself pushed to the place the princess consort deemed suitable for conversation—inside the canopy bed in the eastern inner chamber of the rear courtyard.
Prince Hui was still wearing his outer garments. Yao Huang wanted to help him remove them, but Zhao Sui pressed down on her hand and said, “First tell me why you cried.”
Yao Huang thought for a moment, then turned the wheelchair so Prince Hui faced the bed board. She herself removed her upper jacket and long skirt, wearing only her undergarments as she climbed onto the bed. Then, with a guilty expression, she knelt properly facing Prince Hui, hung her head, and said, “I went to Father Emperor and cried about my grievances, saying things that you probably didn’t want me to say to Father Emperor. I was wrong. I apologize to you and only ask that, given my tender skin and delicate flesh, you won’t punish me too harshly.”
The phrase “tender skin and delicate flesh” immediately derailed all the concerns that Prince Hui had just begun to form, his gaze falling on the princess consort’s knees as she knelt on the soft brocade bedding.
So the inner chamber was suitable because she could kneel more comfortably while “pleading guilty.”
“You don’t need to kneel. Just speak properly.”
Yao Huang continued kneeling without moving.
Since kneeling like this didn’t hurt anyway, Zhao Sui first asked about the important matter: “What grievances did you complain about to Father Emperor?”
Yao Huang glanced at him and said plaintively, “The grievance that you’re too difficult to serve. I’m afraid of you damaging your eyes if I always let you stay cooped up in the study reading books. But when I take you out to enjoy yourself, you seem uninterested in everything I like, leaving me in a dilemma, not knowing how to better accompany you. I’m so worried I’m about to grow white hairs.”
Zhao Sui had long noticed she had such concerns. Since he hadn’t been able to explain clearly last time, he now spoke more plainly to the princess consort: “I’ve been reading since childhood and know the principle of reading for a while then resting for a while. I won’t damage my eyes. I’m also happy to go out with you, so you just need to arrange things according to your wishes. If I’m not interested, I’ll tell you directly.”
Yao Huang said, “That’s all well and good to say, but there are only so many fun places around the capital. Even if I want to take you out to relax, going to the same place repeatedly will bore you too.”
Zhao Sui replied, “Then we’ll just stay at the residence.”
Yao Huang countered, “If we stay at the residence, I can’t help but worry about you, afraid you’ll feel depressed always staying in the study.”
Zhao Sui said, “I won’t. I enjoy reading.”
Yao Huang looked up, meeting his eyes, and said, “I also enjoy looking at gold, but if you made me look at gold every single day, I absolutely couldn’t stand it. You’re a gentleman, and gentlemen can’t lie to deceive people, so please place your hand on your conscience and tell me that you most love staying in the study, and that spending all day, every day with books for company wouldn’t make you feel depressed.”
As soon as she finished speaking, Prince Hui averted his gaze.
Yao Huang smiled bitterly. “See, I knew it. You’re only twenty-three years old, not some monk in a temple. How could you enjoy always being cooped up in one place?”
Zhao Sui looked at his legs before him. So what if he didn’t enjoy it? This was all he could do for the rest of his life. Forcing himself to read was at least a way to pass the time.
Yao Huang changed to a kneeling-sitting position, which brought her face closer to Prince Hui in his wheelchair.
She reached out her hand as if wanting to grasp Prince Hui’s hand, then hesitantly withdrew it, saying softly, “You can force yourself to repeat the same thing day after day, but I can’t. I want you to see new scenery, and I want you to have new ways to entertain yourself every day. Only when you’re happy can I enjoy the wealth and status you’ve given me with a clear conscience. But I have the will but not the ability, which is why I get headaches and worries, why I couldn’t help going to Father Emperor to cry.”
Zhao Sui continued looking at his own legs.
If his legs were fine, the princess consort wouldn’t need to have these worries.
Yao Huang saw the familiar air of death on Prince Hui’s face and quickly said, “Doesn’t Your Highness want to ask how I cried to Father Emperor?”
Prince Hui didn’t even look up. “Tell me.”
Yao Huang deliberately huffed, then raised her chin when Prince Hui looked over, wearing an expression that showed she didn’t think she was at fault: “I asked Father Emperor to arrange a position for you. That way, you’ll have something to do during the day and I won’t have to rack my brains finding entertainment for you. I’ll just focus on properly serving you at night.”
By the last sentence, the righteous princess consort had lost her momentum and lowered her head, blushing. “Of course, I didn’t tell Father Emperor that last part.”
Zhao Sui remained silent.
In the half year since their marriage, this was the first time Zhao Sui hadn’t been disturbed by the princess consort’s bold words. Yet his heart still beat faster—for another reason.
After the heated blood gradually cooled, Zhao Sui lowered his eyes and said, “You had your difficulties. I won’t punish you this time, but don’t do it again.”
Yao Huang studied his expression, then knelt upright again with an air of facing death bravely, saying, “You’d better punish me anyway, because Father Emperor said that ever since you went with me to avoid the summer heat at Spirit Mountain, he’s been pondering giving you an official position. He was afraid you’d resent him for not being a caring father, so he didn’t dare bring it up with you. Since I came to him about it, for the sake of our marital harmony, Father Emperor decided to be the villain.”
“In other words, Your Highness’s comfortable days of idleness at home won’t last much longer. Once Father Emperor decides on a new position, you’ll have to take up your post.”
Zhao Sui was stunned.
Could he really continue working?
What position would Father Emperor give him?
Could he do it well?
And what about the government office—even if he could bring Qing Ai and Fei Quan to attend to him, how would he handle trivial matters like relieving himself?
Yao Huang saw that the air of death had left Prince Hui’s face, replaced by difficulty. Understanding his concerns, she continued, “Father Emperor dares to be the villain, but I’m afraid you’ll be angry with me, so I had to find a way to make amends. I know you prefer quiet, that you like to read alone, and presumably you’d also like to review documents alone. So I asked Father Emperor to allocate you a private office. That way, when you want to see someone, you can summon them over, and when you don’t want to be disturbed, you can have complete peace and quiet. You could even put a daybed in your office—if you get tired from reading, you can lie down and rest for a while. Right?”
Zhao Sui fell silent.
The two prime ministers of the Central Secretariat and the ministers of the Six Ministries all had private offices. As a prince who used a wheelchair, it wouldn’t be too irregular for Father Emperor to allocate him a private office. The daybed could be dispensed with.
With a private office, he could set up a screen to partition off a small washroom…
“Say something! Are you angry with me or not? Just a little angry or extremely angry?”
The princess consort’s hand finally reached out, tugging gently at his sleeve.
Since the princess consort was kneeling on the bed, to tug at his sleeve she had to lean forward. So when Zhao Sui looked up, the first thing he saw was the loosened collar of the princess consort’s undergarments, revealing…
Zhao Sui grasped her hand and turned his face away, saying, “I won’t be angry. It’s just… thank you for taking such trouble.”
Whether it was repeatedly keeping him company to lift his spirits before, or now boldly going to Father Emperor to request an official position, the princess consort had done it all so he could have more diversions.
Yao Huang asked, “You’re really not angry?”
Zhao Sui nodded.
Yao Huang immediately moved to the edge of the bed and tried to climb onto Prince Hui’s wheelchair. Seeing this, Zhao Sui reached out to support the princess consort to prevent her from falling.
With his cooperation, Yao Huang smoothly managed to kneel-sit in Prince Hui’s lap, her legs folded against each side of the wheelchair’s armrests.
Wrapping her arms around Prince Hui’s neck, Yao Huang breathed a sigh of relief and said, “I was so scared. The whole way back I kept thinking, what if you get so angry that you move to the bamboo courtyard and never come to Ming’an Hall to keep me company again, not even on the fifth and tenth days?”
Zhao Sui’s hands rested on the princess consort’s slender waist, surrounded by the clear fragrance of osmanthus flower water that the princess consort loved to use when bathing.
In this position again, Zhao Sui found it very difficult to control his body’s response.
Yao Huang felt it and looked up at Prince Hui.
Prince Hui closed his eyes and heard the princess consort laugh softly before leaning close to his ear and saying, “Actually, I wasn’t just trying to find things for you to do to pass the time. I was also afraid that if you could see me all day and night, if you saw too much of me and got tired of me, you’d end up like those few days at the beginning of the month—even when I was lying beside you, you couldn’t be bothered to touch me.”
Zhao Sui said, “…At the time, I thought you were tired from going out so frequently.”
Yao Huang replied, “…I thought I had tired you out.”
Prince Hui, who hadn’t actually been tired at all, didn’t want to explain further and simply turned the princess consort around.
—
At the palace, the more Emperor Yongchang thought about his daughter-in-law’s words, the more his heart ached. The more it ached, the guiltier he felt. If only he had cared more about his second son, it wouldn’t have taken until now to understand that his son didn’t want to be a “useless person” at all.
With his mind full of thoughts about his second son taking up an official position, Emperor Yongchang could neither appreciate the flowers nor concentrate on reviewing memorials. Enduring until dusk, Emperor Yongchang felt that if he didn’t settle this matter today, he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight either.
Emperor Yongchang left the palace again.
At Prince Hui’s residence, Zhao Sui had rested with the princess consort for half a period during the evening nap time. After the princess consort fell asleep, with matters weighing on his mind, Zhao Sui had Qing Ai push him back to the front courtyard.
He had only been in the study for a short while when Father Emperor arrived. With no time to think much, Zhao Sui had Qing Ai push him out to receive the imperial visit.
One stood at the entrance to the main hall, the other was still in the courtyard—their gazes met from afar.
Zhao Sui was the first to lower his eyes.
Emperor Yongchang told Eunuch Wang, Qing Ai, and the others to all remain outside. He personally pushed his son back into the main hall, then sat beside the long table, studying his son’s expression as he asked, “The princess consort has told you about taking up an official position?”
Zhao Sui replied, “Yes.”
Emperor Yongchang asked, “Are you willing?”
Zhao Sui glanced at Father Emperor and said, “I leave it entirely to Father Emperor to decide.”
Emperor Yongchang’s body and mind relaxed, and a smile appeared on his face. “Excellent! I was hoping you’d say that. So tell me, where would you like to work? From the Central Secretariat to the Six Ministries, Father Emperor will let you choose.”
Zhao Sui considered for a moment, then said, “I wish to go to the Ministry of Works.”