Ji Yingying was led into the great hall. She quickly glanced around—there weren’t many people present. King Sheng Fengyou sat on the throne, with General Chi Kuang standing to the right. Sheng Fengze stood on the left. Two people knelt in the hall; from their silhouettes, they appeared to be Chihu and Aning.
The King had chosen to hold a private hearing, showing consideration for his brother’s face, sparing him from the court officials’ criticism.
But it was merely an empty gesture. Since Lord Qingping Du Yan wanted to deal with Sheng Fengze, news of the White Prince secretly helping a Tang woman escape had already spread throughout the court.
Ji Yingying stepped forward and bowed to the King.
“Raise your head.” The King only remembered her surname and the “Riverside Immortals” painting from when he first hosted the Tang dyeing masters. Now, he studied her intently, curious about the woman his brother was infatuated with.
Her narrow-sleeved blue jacket and colorful flowered skirt beautifully accentuated her tall figure. Nanzhao’s sun hadn’t darkened her skin—someone from Yizhou Prefecture who stayed indoors year-round. Her fair complexion made the hall seem brighter to the King, who was used to Nanzhao’s dark beauties. Her hair was loosely coiled in a bun at the back of her head, clearly a married woman’s style. The King glanced at Sheng Fengze’s expressionless face and sighed, somewhat despising his taste. A lowly slave, and a married woman at that. He had thoroughly disgraced the royal family’s noble face.
Let him be disgraced. The King was pleased to see his handsome brother lose the respect of his officials. What was truly hateful was that he had ordered Yang Jishi to weave the Huanhua Brocade, yet the White Prince wanted to help her escape back to Tang. Did he still recognize him as King?
Having looked his fill, the King asked Ji Yingying kindly: “Yang Jishi, I have heard their accounts. Now you speak.”
Sheng Fengze pressed his lips tightly together, Chi Kuang stood honestly, and the two kneeling in the hall didn’t even raise their heads. Ji Yingying looked at the King, who bore some resemblance to Sheng Fengze and spoke softly: “Your Majesty, we had planned to just search for dyes in the nearby mountains. His Highness the White Prince only sent Chihu to guard me. This humble one was too eager and unwittingly wandered too far.”
“Oh, so you’re saying the White Prince didn’t help you escape back to Tang?”
Ji Yingying answered firmly and clearly: “Your Majesty is wise.”
Chi Kuang gave her a cold look but remained silent.
The King fell silent. His younger brother was young, martially skilled, and had rendered great service leading troops against the Tang. None of his sons could match Sheng Fengze. He deliberately allowed Du Yan to suppress his brother, thinking of his children’s futures. He was more than ten years older than his brother—after his death, with a weak king and a powerful royal uncle, how could anyone not be wary?
Yet he couldn’t completely alienate his brother. His children’s wings weren’t yet strong, and if Tang sought revenge one day, he would still need his brother to lead troops in defense.
The King was deeply conflicted. According to Ji Yingying’s account, his brother was not only innocent but loyal. But he wasn’t a fool—if they truly needed dyes, he could have simply sent people to gather them in the mountains. There was no need to send only one trusted guard to escort her across the mountains.
“Your Majesty, Lord Qingping has arrived.”
“Let him enter.”
He truly liked Du Yan. He always appeared at the right moment, so he understood of circumstances.
Ji Yingying grew nervous. Without thinking, upon entering the hall she had abandoned Du Yan’s suggestion. How would he deal with her now? Just then, she saw Sheng Fengze give her a slight smile. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Ji Yingying trusted Sheng Fengze.
Du Yan entered the hall, bowed to the King, casually glanced at everyone present, and asked with a smile: “Has Your Majesty concluded this case?”
The King smiled: “How could the White Prince secretly help Yang Jishi escape? It was all a misunderstanding. Does Lord Du have urgent business at this time?”
Du Yan replied gently: “This official heard the ministers discussing endlessly outside and wished to know Your Majesty’s judgment, to better pacify the court. Since it was a misunderstanding, the ministers won’t misunderstand His Highness the White Prince.”
The King nodded: “Cut out Aning’s tongue, brand the words ‘traitor slave’ on her face, and chain her at the city gate. Let those who would betray their masters see well her fate.”
Aning, prostrate on the ground, raised her head in desperate panic before heavily kowtowing again: “Please just kill this slave!”
She wasn’t afraid of death. With her tongue cut out, words branded on her face, and chained to the city wall, she would be beaten by commoners, and stoned to death. The lowest slaves and beggars could assault her in the street to vent their desires. She trembled in fear—she would rather be beheaded than imagine herself in such a state.
“Master! Aning misheard. Please, considering how Aning has served you since childhood in the palace, grant Aning a quick death!” Hearing no mercy from the King, Aning crawled to Sheng Fengze’s feet. She had betrayed him because she loved him. Was his heart made of iron? Would he not even grant her a swift death? Aning collapsed, crying.
Sheng Fengze silently looked at her. When two guards stepped forward to drag Aning away, he bowed to the King: “Aze thanks his royal brother for his kindness. Since she came from my Baiya Palace, I beg my royal brother to grant her death.”
The King waved his hand indifferently.
“Master!” Aning raised her face in joyful surprise.
She saw only a flash of the curved blade before feeling cold at her throat. Aning clutched her throat, coughing and convulsing, her blood spraying across the floor.
Ji Yingying turned her face away, her mind buzzing. She remembered again the scene of Chi Kuang’s blade falling, and Old Servant Ji lying in a pool of blood.
“His Highness the White Prince is too merciful.” Du Yan sighed, ordering people to drag away Aning’s corpse. He glanced at Ji Yingying, as if suddenly remembering something, and respectfully said to the King: “Your Majesty, for Nanzhao to grow strong, we must strengthen law and order.”
The King followed his lead: “Though that’s true, this time I’ll allow the White Prince to handle his slave personally. In the future, any who betray their masters will be dealt with according to law.”
Du Yan quickly said: “Your Majesty is wise. However, Yang Jishi once attempted to assassinate the White Prince. I hear His Highness’s wound hasn’t fully healed. By law, attempting to assassinate royalty is punishable by death. This matter… I await Your Majesty’s judgment.”
So this was the trap waiting for her. Ji Yingying finally understood. There would be a price to pay for outmaneuvering Du Yan. He had never intended to let her go.
The King’s gaze toward Du Yan was as soft as spring water, secretly praising him. He put on an angry face: “Such a thing happened? Aze, how could you let a slave wound you? Is the wound serious?”
Sheng Fengze couldn’t deny Ji Yingying’s assassination attempt. That was the excuse he’d used when Zhao Xiuyuan returned empty-handed that day. He looked at Ji Yingying tenderly and said softly: “Royal brother, Aze loves her. She’s a rose with thorns, and Aze willingly bears her wounds. Please don’t trouble her, alright?”
The King was caught between anger and laughter, stunned and unsure how to continue.
“Your Highness the White Prince speaks wrongly. Royal blood flows in your veins. If the ministers learn that Your Highness willingly suffered injury from a lowly Tang woman, where is the royal family’s dignity?” Du Yan advised gently.
The King finally found his voice again: “Aze, for your sake, your royal brother can spare her life. Do you admit your fault?”
How could they possibly kill her? They still needed her to weave the Huanhua Brocade. This was just about suppressing Sheng Fengze. Ji Yingying looked at Sheng Fengze with pain—if possible, she would rather die than accept his kindness again.
Sheng Fengze understood clearly—as long as Ji Yingying lived, they could find another way. Without hesitation, he bowed: “Aze admits his fault.”
“Return to your palace and be confined for three months. Don’t let yourself be injured again in the future. Aze has grown up and reached the age of marriage. Your royal brother will surely find you a good wife. Stop being infatuated with her. A captured slave is merely a plaything, not worthy of true feelings. Take Chihu and go back.” Everyone would know the White Prince had defied the King over a lowly Tang woman and been punished with confinement. His prestige at court would fall several degrees more. Having achieved his goal, the King smiled and waved his hand, indicating Sheng Fengze could leave.
Sheng Fengze silently bowed. Chihu kowtowed to the King, looked worriedly at Ji Yingying, and followed behind Sheng Fengze.
A cruel light flashed in Du Yan’s eyes. In a voice Sheng Fengze could still hear, he said: “Your Majesty, though the death penalty may be waived, punishment cannot be avoided entirely. This Tang woman has concealed the method of weaving Huanhua Brocade and harbors ill intent. This official believes she is taking advantage of His Highness the White Prince’s feelings, ready to assassinate him at any opportunity. To prevent her escape, why not break her legs as punishment? It won’t affect her ability to dye silk and weave brocade.”
“Du Yan!” Sheng Fengze had only taken a few steps. Though he knew Du Yan was speaking for his benefit, he couldn’t suppress the anger surging in his heart and turned back with large strides.
Du Yan’s expression didn’t change: “Does Your Highness have something else to say to this official?”
Their eyes met, and Sheng Fengze saw the hatred floating in the depths of Du Yan’s eyes. He wanted revenge for his son. He probably wanted to kill Sheng Fengze himself. Sheng Fengze struck him hard in the face with his fist.
Du Yan staggered backward. Chi Kuang, standing behind him, gaped in shock and quickly reached out to steady him.
The King rose from his throne in shock. Sheng Fengze had struck Du Yan right in front of him: “Aze, what are you doing?”
What was he doing? Sheng Fengze’s punch had made Du Yan’s nose bleed profusely. Letting him fall to the ground, he grabbed Ji Yingying’s hand and said loudly: “She is your subject’s beloved. Lord Qingping wants to break her legs right in front of me. Does he still consider me your royal brother, Nanzhao’s White Prince? I have my pride too—even if she’s a slave, she’s my person. What’s wrong with hitting him? He deserved it!”
The King shouted in anger: “You struck the Lord Qingping over a slave? You struck my Lord Qingping for this Tang woman?”
That was the Lord Qingping, equivalent to Tang’s Prime Minister, head of all officials. How could he be struck so casually?
Ji Yingying’s ears reddened at Sheng Fengze’s words. If she didn’t clear things up now, she could never wash away the stain even if she jumped into the Yellow River. She tried to pull her hand from Sheng Fengze’s grip, but he held it so tightly it hurt. She pleaded softly: “Please let go.”
“Be quiet!” Sheng Fengze rebuked her harshly, then declared resoundingly, “Your subject has been foolish and is willing to give up his princely title!”
He knew it—his royal brother was wary of him. Otherwise, over so many years, he wouldn’t have allowed Du Yan to constantly oppose him. His royal brother had long wanted to strip his princely title. Without the title, his territory and slaves would be reduced, and he couldn’t even maintain a thousand personal guards. Even without this incident with Ji Yingying, his royal brother would have done this when he grew old and weak.
Seeing Sheng Fengze’s frank gaze, the King suddenly felt ashamed and angry at having his thoughts seen through. He raged: “If you don’t want the princely title, then so be it! Get back to your palace!”
Sheng Fengze bowed slightly and started to leave, pulling Ji Yingying along.
“Leave Yang Jishi here! When the Huanhua Brocade is woven, then I will let her return to Baiya Palace!” Perhaps keeping this woman who had bewitched his brother was the wisest move. He had even given up his princely title for her.
Sheng Fengze drew a deep breath and released her hand, but his eyes turned to Du Yan, who was wiping a sleeve of blood: “I’ll wait for you to return to Baiya Palace properly.”
He emphasized each word. Everyone understood his meaning. He no longer needed to threaten his royal brother and Du Yan. They understood—if anything happened to Ji Yingying, he would take revenge. If he dared to strike Du Yan, he would dare to kill anyone who harmed her.
Sheng Fengze departed swiftly with Chihu.
Ji Yingying silently rubbed her hand where his grip had hurt, thinking sadly that she truly was just a captured lowly slave—no one had asked what she wanted. Yang Jingyuan had seen her enter the palace. He would surely find out where she was and find a way to rescue her. Ji Yingying once again strengthened her resolve. As long as she didn’t die, she would leave Nanzhao.
Though he had stripped Sheng Fengze of his princely title, the King felt no sense of achievement. He had been frightened by the ferocity in his brother’s eyes. Stripping the title couldn’t clip the eagle’s wings. He couldn’t wound his brother’s heart further. The King said wearily: “Send Yang Jishi to the weaving workshop. Lord Du, go tend to your wounds.”
Du Yan hated that royal blood didn’t flow in his veins. Merely stripping a title hadn’t hurt a hair on Sheng Fengze’s head. He had struck when he wanted to strike. What else could Du Yan do? How could he avenge his son’s death? Du Yan bowed and withdrew, his gaze sweeping coldly across Ji Yingying’s face: “Deputy Envoy Zhao has been diligently researching the Huanhua Brocade and has made some progress. This official will have someone send her to the Zhao family workshop.”
Ji Yingying silently called out Yang Jingyuan’s name in her heart. If he came too late this time, she would truly have no choice but to take her own life.