The imperial edict recalling Prince Min had no effect, vanishing like a clay ox entering the sea. The Emperor was furious. He didn’t care whether Prince Min had received the edict or if he had any justification; he only knew that his words must be obeyed, or it was treason. A second edict was issued. This time, there was a response: Prince Min agreed to depart immediately but claimed illness from the local conditions would slow his journey. He spent three full days packing. After days of urging by the imperial envoy, the messenger also fell ill, and no further news came.
The Emperor’s paranoia reached unprecedented heights. Why wasn’t Prince Min returning if he had nothing to hide? Why had the envoy fallen ill too? And why had all communication ceased? Something was amiss. Then, the imperial guard intercepted a secret letter from the Xiao family to Prince Min, which was delivered directly to the Emperor. Soon after, someone reported that Prince Min, supposedly ill in the south, had disguised himself and was heading to the Northern Border Command. Despite Li Zhongjie’s fall, the Xiao family had cultivated influence there for years, and their power wasn’t easily dismantled.
Such furtive behavior suggested sinister intentions. Following the principle of “better to wrongly kill a thousand than let one guilty person escape,” the Emperor ordered the imperial guard to raid Prince Min’s residence overnight. They uncovered numerous prohibited items and weapons, arrested many people, and through severe interrogation, extracted confessions about Prince Min’s long-standing treasonous intentions. These included nurturing a large force of assassins and colluding with court officials and military leaders to plot rebellion. Many high-ranking officials were implicated, with the Xiao family at the forefront and the Wei Prince’s household among the royal relatives involved.
Once the lid was lifted, countless people rushed to present evidence, adding fuel to the fire and fanning the flames to bring the pot to a boil. Jiang Changyang handed over all the previously collected evidence to Prince Jing, delivering the final blow. Prince Min became a genuine traitor. In this situation, even if he hadn’t intended to rebel, he now had no choice. His rebellion was futile, and he became the first prince of his generation to die for treason. The Xiao family, one of the five great clans, fell from grace. Though not destroyed, they were significantly weakened. The Emperor had lost a son but achieved one of his wishes.
The Emperor desired an everlasting dynasty, but his body was failing. Prince Jing was tasked with cleaning up the mess left by Prince Min. He discarded luxurious clothing and fine food, immersing himself among the people to understand their plight. He ate the same food as the disaster victims, worked tirelessly, and remained approachable. However, he showed no mercy when suppressing Prince Min’s remaining forces and traitors. This earned him widespread praise from both the poor and wealthy landowners. He transformed into the most highly acclaimed virtuous candidate. The Emperor decided to choose an heir based on merit rather than seniority or legitimacy. Even Prince Ning, the legitimate son, praised and promoted Prince Jing.
At that year’s winter solstice court assembly, Prince Jing was formally named Crown Prince with overwhelming support. Prince Ning showed no signs of recovery, rarely leaving his sickbed and gradually fading from court affairs, becoming almost invisible. As per their prior agreement, the great clans expressed goodwill towards the new heir apparent in various ways. The new Crown Prince remained calm and impartial, reassuring all parties.
That winter was exceptionally long and cold. The court changed repeatedly, with many rising and falling, coming and going. Some rejoiced, some grieved, some were proud, some dejected, some lost all hope, while others harbored great ambitions. The only constant was the cold, silent city walls standing steadfast in the wind and snow.
Soon, the Lantern Festival arrived, bringing three days without curfew and celebrations. With the Emperor in poor health, the new Crown Prince, to show filial piety, used his private funds to set up a grand lantern tree outside Mingde Gate, lighting 891 colorful lanterns. He also distributed alms at temples and Taoist shrines throughout the capital, praying for the Emperor’s longevity. Following his lead, noble families couldn’t help but make similar gestures, resulting in an exceptionally brilliant and dazzling Lantern Festival. The common people feasted their eyes on the spectacle, presenting a picture of peace and prosperity.
On the eve of the Lantern Festival, Jiang Changyang and Mudan took their twin children to see the lanterns. The couple rode horses side by side, each carrying a child wrapped warmly in their cloaks. The tall lantern trees shone with magnificent light in the night sky, visible from afar. The couple seemed to return to the year their marriage was first arranged. Jiang Changyang looked back at Mudan, his eyes smiling; Mudan returned his gaze, her lips full of tenderness. At that moment, they only had eyes for each other, with the bustling streets and crowds fading into the background.
But the twins were not content to be the background. Zheng’er’s excited shout brought their parents back to reality. Mudan smiled gently at Jiang Changyang before lowering her head to patiently ask Zheng’er, “What does Zheng’er want?”
Zheng’er blinked his big, dark eyes and pointed at a rabbit lantern by the roadside, calling out clearly and brightly, “Rabbit lantern.”
Xian’er, not to be outdone, tugged at Jiang Changyang’s clothes and shouted, “Rabbit lantern.”
The twins could now speak short phrases and loved excitement. Seeing such a lively scene for the first time, they couldn’t help but cheer and clap in their parents’ arms, wanting this and that. Mudan and Jiang Changyang indulged them, and the family of four was filled with joy. Even their attendants—Shunhou’er, Kuan’er, and Shu’er—watched with delight. As they were enjoying themselves, a plain carriage ahead suddenly stopped, and a beautiful maid came forward to greet them: “Greetings, Madam He.”
Mudan recognized Ahui, Qin Sanniang’s maid. She smiled towards the unadorned carriage and said softly, “Is it your mistress?” With Prince Jing’s ascension, he dared not bestow favors openly, but the clever and virtuous Crown Princess had proposed bringing Qin Sanniang and her son into the household. Her reasoning: Qin Sanniang was virtuous and discreet, had borne a son, and her sister, Madam Duan, had done much for Prince Jing in Jiangnan. The Crown Prince agreed, gifting the Crown Princess various treasures, and Qin Sanniang became a sixth-rank concubine in the Crown Prince’s household. This had happened after the New Year, and Mudan had secretly sent congratulatory gifts upon hearing the news, but she hadn’t expected Qin Sanniang to still be outside after so many days.
Ahui smiled slightly, “My mistress has been waiting for you for a long time.”
Mudan handed Zheng’er to Shunhou’er and dismounted, walking with Ahui to the carriage. The curtain was lifted, revealing Qin Sanniang sitting properly inside, dressed in splendid attire. Qin Sanniang leaned forward slightly, warmly inviting Mudan in: “Please, come sit.”
Mudan entered the carriage, smiling as she congratulated Qin Sanniang: “Congratulations. I wanted to visit and congratulate you in person, but I couldn’t get away. By the time I could, I thought you’d have long since left and didn’t want to trouble you.” In truth, although Prince Jing had become Crown Prince as desired, the Emperor was still alive, and certain courtesies had to be observed.
Qin Sanniang understood perfectly. She hurriedly returned the greeting and smiled, “I was supposed to leave a few days ago, but my sister sent word that she wanted to see the child. I had to shamelessly request the Crown Princess’s permission to stay until after the Lantern Festival. Today, I came to bid you farewell. Once I enter the deep palace, it won’t be easy to meet again.” She smiled mischievously at Mudan, “I’ve already left without saying goodbye once; I certainly wouldn’t dare do it again.”
Mudan felt somewhat emotional. In the future, when the Crown Prince ascended the throne, Qin Sanniang would surely become a consort. If her child grew up safely and stayed out of trouble, she would have security for life. Who would have thought that the woman lying by the roadside, on the brink of starvation, would have such a day? Mudan was silent for a moment, then took Qin Sanniang’s hand and sincerely said, “I only wish you a lifetime of peace.”
In such a place, being such a person, it was impossible to have everything one desired. “Peace” alone was the most precious thing. Qin Sanniang’s beautiful eyes flickered slightly as she firmly grasped Mudan’s hand and said solemnly, “I wish you peace, contentment, wealth, honor, and many descendants.”
Mudan was moved and looked up at Qin Sanniang, who smiled like the bright moon on the horizon: “I’ve been out too long. I’m afraid His Highness will be angry if he can’t find me when he returns. I must take my leave now.” She wasn’t the youngest, most beautiful, most talented, or most favored by the Crown Prince’s side. Many looked down on her background and experiences, but she had indeed carved out a place for herself through her efforts. On the main day of the Lantern Festival, the Crown Prince would spend time with the Crown Princess, but whether it was the day before or after, he would surely spare some time for her and her child. For someone who always knew her place and when to be content, this was enough. She could achieve a lifetime of peace.
Mudan watched as Qin Sanniang’s carriage gradually disappeared into the bustling crowd, her heart full of blessings. Jiang Changyang rode up beside her and smiled, “She’s gone far away. What are you still looking at? Let’s go. The Fen Prince’s household has sent someone to find us, saying they’ve saved us seats to watch the festivities.”
Mudan mounted her horse, holding Xian’er in her arms, and followed Jiang Changyang towards the tall lantern tree. In the viewing pavilion built by the Fen Prince’s household near the lantern tree, Jiang Yunqing, still with the shyness of a new bride, sat beside Lady Chen, secretly peering into the crowd. When she spotted Jiang Changyang and Mudan, her face lit up with a delighted smile. Seeing this, Lady Chen smiled and pinched her cheek affectionately, saying with genuine fondness, “Seeing you so happy to see your brother and sister-in-law, how about we invite them for a meal at home tomorrow?”
Jiang Yunqing nodded without hesitation, smiling sweetly, “Xiaosu likes Zheng’er and Xian’er.”
Hearing this, the Fen Princess teased, “When will he stop doting on other people’s children and have his own?”
Jiang Yunqing lowered her head, blushing, and cast a sidelong glance at Xiaosu, who was sitting not far away and frequently turning to look at her. She gave him a sweet smile. Xiaosu was stunned for a moment before breaking into a big, generous smile in return.
(The End)