At the Eighth Prince’s residence, Xuan Li threw the letter into the nearby flames, and instantly the fire licked at the words on the paper, turning them into a pile of ashes. The advisor behind him finally couldn’t help but ask: “Why did Your Highness reject Jiang Zhaoyi’s proposal?”
Jiang Dan’s suggestion to join forces with Xuan Li to bring down Prince Jinying’s residence was indeed quite tempting to hear. Since Jiang Dan had said this, she must have had a plan. With Xuan Li’s cautious nature, he should have at least listened, yet Xuan Li had refused Jiang Dan without hesitation, which was rather strange.
“She’s anxious now, that’s why she can’t keep her composure. It seems she has some weakness in Jiang Ruan’s hands and wants to use me to deal with Jiang Ruan while incidentally mentioning Prince Jinying’s residence. What good method could she have? Besides, it’s really not worth my involvement.” Xuan Li watched the dancing flames: “Moreover, this woman is quite scheming and has already gotten mixed up with Fifth Brother.”
The advisor followed Xuan Li’s gaze toward the flames, roughly knowing it was a secret message from the palace. For Jiang Dan to get entangled with Xuan Hua in such a short time indeed showed she was desperately anxious. The advisor pondered for a moment: “Then Your Highness means…?”
“Just fools.” Xuan Li said carelessly: “If these two can join forces to bring down Prince Jinying’s residence, naturally that would be good. Xiao Shao’s existence has always been a stumbling block. Someday I’ll have to clear away this stone too. If someone does the work for me, why not?” He seemed to find it amusing: “If their skills are inferior, with Xiao Shao and Jiang Ruan’s temperaments, do you think they could gain any advantage?” Xuan Li continued: “Fifth Brother has been an eyesore in court for quite some time. Now there’s also Xuan Pei. If Fifth Brother were to disappear from this world, that would also be a good thing for me.” He looked at the gold button on his sleeve and said: “Either way, I have nothing to lose, so why wade into these muddy waters?”
“Your Highness is wise.” The advisor sighed: “When the snipe and clam fight, the fisherman benefits. In the end, Your Highness will reap the rewards.” He thought for a moment, then suddenly said: “It’s just that Jiang Zhaoyi was originally Your Highness’s person. If she suddenly joins forces with the Fifth Prince, she can no longer be used by us and becomes a discarded piece. In the future, news from the palace…”
“She was already useless.” Xuan Li interrupted him: “Yuan Chuan has already entered the palace, so what use is Jiang Dan? Better to use her one last time to help me accomplish something, then it won’t be a wasted trip.”
The advisor nodded: “If that’s the case, then we’ll just wait peacefully for good news. Your Highness is indeed the best chess player. In the end, this game still needs Your Highness to finish it.”
…
Jiang Ruan stretched lazily, instinctively hugging the warm source in her arms tighter. She drowsily opened her eyes, only to discover that her hands were still wrapped around Xiao Shao’s waist, with Xiao Shao’s peaceful sleeping face right before her eyes.
Sunlight faintly filtered through the curtains, bringing one or two rays inside, also clearing her muddled mind somewhat. Suddenly she remembered what had happened yesterday. She had simply laid bare the past from her previous life, but somehow ended up kissing Xiao Shao. The surge of passion came suddenly, and Xiao Shao took advantage of her dazed state to carry her out of the study. Perhaps emotional passion could also dilute some pain, and in those intense, sweat-soaked intimate moments, all the painful emotions were released.
And then what? Jiang Ruan was slightly stunned, feeling the soreness throughout her body as if she had been thoroughly crushed. It had to be said that Xiao Shao was truly very clever—things that took others several attempts to learn, he could master perfectly after just once. Even in these matters he was the same, possessing such natural skill that she nearly became dizzy in that unfamiliar blissful sensation. Moreover, though this person was usually steady and reserved in temperament, for some unknown reason he became quite wicked in bed, often deliberately bullying her until she couldn’t speak, coldly watching her struggle and submit before finally stopping.
She propped her chin on one hand, carefully examining the young man lying on his side. Xiao Shao’s eyelashes were long and straight, casting shadows beneath his eyelids. His nose was high and elegant, his lips thin and rosy. The sleeping Xiao Shao looked very peaceful—it was hard to imagine such a calm, aloof person could be so passionate and wild during the night. Just having those memories in her mind made her feel somewhat bashful.
While she was lost in thought, her hand was suddenly pulled, and she tumbled into a warm embrace. Xiao Shao’s eyes remained closed, but his voice was quite clear, carrying the faint satisfaction of satiation as he said: “It’s still early.”
“It’s not early anymore.” Jiang Ruan replied casually, then realized: “You were awake?”
The corner of Xiao Shao’s lips curved upward, and he opened his eyes to look at her: “Mm.”
This person seemed to become mischievous whenever he wasn’t in front of his subordinates, occasionally quite childish, apparently finding the game of teasing people very amusing. Such behavior reminded Jiang Ruan very much of Xuan Pei. It was just that when Xuan Pei did these things, it was cute, but when it was Xiao Shao—someone who usually kept a cold expression—it seemed rather eerie.
“You…” Jiang Ruan tried to push him away, but Xiao Shao wouldn’t let go. His strength was naturally great, and with just a little clever force, Jiang Ruan was helpless. She could only lie in his embrace for now, but remembered something and asked: “Yesterday I told you all those things, but I didn’t get to hear what you wanted to say in the end. When do you plan to tell me?”
Thinking of this matter made Jiang Ruan very uncomfortable. Yesterday her emotions had been quite turbulent, and when Xiao Shao carried her back to the room, the servants of the residence must have seen it too. What would those people think—that the princess couldn’t wait to have daytime intimacy with her husband in the study as soon as she returned to the residence? Wouldn’t that seem too lustful? As for Steward Lin, he was probably even more puzzled—how did discussing a secret end up in bed?
Now both her dignity and face were completely lost. Jiang Ruan felt it would be even harder to establish authority among the servants, and couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. However, Xiao Shao’s expression paused slightly as he said: “Yesterday you were too eager, I thought you wanted to do more important things.”
“More important things?” Jiang Ruan stared at him: “What do you mean by more important things?” Clearly this person had ulterior motives—she had only wanted to offer gentle comfort, but this fellow had taken advantage of her vulnerability.
Xiao Shao couldn’t help but laugh again. Jiang Ruan glared at him for a while, then laughed along. She pushed at Xiao Shao: “Alright, let’s get up first. I don’t have anything particular to do today, so whatever you want to say, I can listen.” She teased: “Even if you tell me that like me, you’re also someone who has died once, I won’t mind.”
“If you want to hear it, I’ll tell you.” Xiao Shao touched her hair: “Let’s get up first.”
After breakfast, Jiang Ruan walked with Xiao Shao to the courtyard. The pavilion in the courtyard was adjacent to a pond, where the clear azure-blue water revealed red fish swimming back and forth, adding particular vitality to the monotonous winter scene. Jiang Ruan was preoccupied with what Xiao Shao wanted to say. Seeing that his expression was no longer as relaxed as it had been in the morning—it could even be called somewhat melancholy—she realized this matter was probably quite significant and silently followed beside him.
“Ah Ruan,” Xiao Shao began: “You’ve paid respects at my parents’ memorial tablets.”
“Yes,” Jiang Ruan nodded: “On our wedding day.” On the day she married into Prince Jinying’s residence, she had personally paid respects to her parents-in-law before the memorial tablets of the former Prince Jinying and his wife. Hearing Xiao Shao mention this now reminded her of it.
“Actually, you didn’t pay respects to them.” Xiao Shao lowered his eyes, not knowing what he was thinking of, and slowly said: “There was nothing for you to pay respects to.”
Jiang Ruan was startled and looked at him inquiringly. The meaning in these words was quite thought-provoking—was he saying that the tablets enshrined in the ancestral hall weren’t actually those of Prince Jinying and his wife? Or did he mean something else?
“Do you remember there was once a day when you came to the residence and saw me here paying respects to someone else?” Xiao Shao stood with his hands behind his back, his upright figure showing a touch of desolation at this moment: “Those were the people you should have paid respects to.”
Jiang Ruan was shocked, remembering that there had indeed been such a day—the very day when Xiao Shao had kissed her while drunk, when she had stumbled upon Xiao Shao paying respects to someone. At the time she had found it strange, because it wasn’t the memorial day for Prince Jinying and his wife. But she couldn’t think of any other reason. The doubts from that time were finally confirmed at this moment. She was still pondering Xiao Shao’s words when she heard his voice from beside her: “I am not Prince Jinying’s son.”
Jiang Ruan looked up. Xiao Shao’s dark eyes held indescribable emotions as he said: “My father was Crown Prince Hongxi.”
Jiang Ruan was stunned, then felt a tremendous storm surge in her heart. Crown Prince Hongxi—Empress Dowager Yide’s eldest son, the current emperor’s brother, who should have been the sovereign of the Great Jin Dynasty, but died trampled by thousands of horses while quelling the princes’ rebellion on the eve of the founding—was actually Xiao Shao’s father?
Xiao Shao glanced at Jiang Ruan, then looked away, standing at the edge of the pavilion and slowly beginning to tell the story.
Empress Dowager Yide bore two sons and one daughter. Her eldest daughter, Princess Yuanrong, was intelligent and gentle, gracious and dignified. Her second son, Crown Prince Hongxi, was also famous throughout the capital from a young age. The current emperor was the youngest, somewhat spoiled by his two older siblings, but ultimately clever as well. These three had always been close. When the late emperor was alive, he was quite wary of Empress Dowager Yide’s domineering manner and even suppressed her maternal family. Though Empress Dowager Yide was decisive and quite capable in court affairs, her greatest blow came from her own husband. The late emperor feared Empress Dowager Yide would monopolize power and consistently favored other consorts, even deliberately promoting other princes to balance the power. This indeed prevented the possibility of maternal relatives monopolizing power, but after the late emperor’s death, the previously balanced situation was disrupted, and the Great Jin Dynasty faced an unprecedented crisis—eight princes vying for the throne.
Crown Prince Hongxi was the nominal heir, but his position was far from secure. Not to mention those eight ambitious brothers, even among the court officials, few supported him. The late emperor had left Empress Dowager Yide with a mess, yet expected Crown Prince Hongxi to pacify this chaotic realm.
The eight brothers each claimed territory and threatened to storm the palace. Empress Dowager Yide had no choice but to seek external assistance. At that time, someone appeared—Princess Qi Man of the Southern Border Kingdom. Crown Prince Hongxi was not only truly virtuous and talented with concern for the world, but also extraordinarily handsome with elegant bearing. The Southern Border Kingdom had not yet been conquered and was a force to be reckoned with. This princess had once seen Crown Prince Hongxi when she came to Great Jin and secretly favored him, but Crown Prince Hongxi politely declined.
Crown Prince Hongxi’s crown princess was Xiang Xiaoyuan, the Great Jin Dynasty’s foremost female physician at the time. Though Xiang Xiaoyuan wasn’t as devastatingly beautiful as Qi Man, she had excellent medical skills and a mind full of novel and curious ideas. She wasn’t from an official family but had emerged from the wilderness. Once, she saved the life of a dying first-rank minister by performing what was called “surgery,” earning her an official position as a female physician in the palace. The union between Crown Prince Hongxi and her had required quite a struggle, but fortunately they eventually achieved their happy ending. Crown Prince Hongxi had always been pure in matters of romance. Since he truly loved Xiang Xiaoyuan, aside from Crown Princess Xiang Xiaoyuan, he had even privately dismissed his concubines—how could he agree to Princess Qi Man’s proposal to divorce Xiang Xiaoyuan and marry the princess?
However, this seemed unwise to Empress Dowager Yide. True, she also greatly admired Xiang Xiaoyuan’s intelligence and her perspective and breadth of mind that differed from any other woman, but to give up imperial ambitions for one woman was not the behavior of a wise ruler. Perhaps Crown Prince Hongxi truly wasn’t a competent emperor—his heart wasn’t ruthless enough—but he was indeed a good husband and good father.
Qi Man declared that if Crown Prince Hongxi agreed, the Southern Border Kingdom could lend one hundred thousand troops to help Great Jin pacify the eight princes’ rebellion. Crown Prince Hongxi refused, but the current emperor wouldn’t have it. The emperor and Crown Prince Hongxi had always been very close brothers who thought alike in everything since childhood, including the women they liked. Xiang Xiaoyuan was intelligent and unlike any other woman—Crown Prince Hongxi liked her, and so did the emperor. But in Xiang Xiaoyuan’s eyes, the emperor was just a little brother, and she could only watch her marry his elder brother.
Perhaps due to jealousy and unwillingness in his heart, or perhaps because his heart was more suited to being an emperor than Crown Prince Hongxi’s, he agreed to Qi Man’s proposal—he could find a way to first let Qi Man have Crown Prince Hongxi, then send troops to help Great Jin. The emperor’s original intention was actually just a temporary measure. He thought it would only be physical intimacy, and Crown Prince Hongxi would ultimately suffer no real loss. As long as Qi Man was temporarily appeased, after quelling the eight princes’ rebellion, they could find an excuse to cast Qi Man aside.
The only variable was Xiang Xiaoyuan. Xiang Xiaoyuan was unlike any other woman in this world regarding emotions—she believed that a man should only have one woman in his lifetime, and polygamy was sinful. This was heretical in the Jin Dynasty, but Crown Prince Hongxi had agreed to it. No matter how much pressure people exerted on them initially, Crown Prince Hongxi’s attitude remained firm. The emperor admitted he couldn’t do what Crown Prince Hongxi did, and in his heart he wasn’t without mockery, waiting to see Xiang Xiaoyuan’s disappointed expression. But to everyone’s shock, Xiang Xiaoyuan’s face beamed with such blindingly happy smiles—Crown Prince Hongxi had kept his word.
If Xiang Xiaoyuan learned of this matter, who knew what variables it might create? But for the sake of Great Jin, or perhaps for that bit of darkness in the emperor’s own heart, he ultimately made this decision that he would regret for the rest of his life.
At that time, Xiang Xiaoyuan had just given birth to Xiao Shao. Xiao Shao had just turned one month old. On the day of the full-month celebration, countless guests came and went—it was indeed extraordinarily lively.