Prince Yu had lost three children before, none from smallpox.
Who wanted to harm the little imperial grandson?
Certainly not Li Wei, who had sent the jade Guanyin. Without the little imperial grandson, Li Wei would still be a mason working for others to make a living.
This was meant to cut off Prince Yu Mansion’s roots. The first suspect to appear in Prince Yu’s mind was Prince Jing.
Prince Jing still had no sons after all these years. He has no sons, yet wants to take away mine!
Prince Yu clenched his fists, his fighting spirit ignited.
The jade Guanyin had been delivered to Prince Yu Mansion through Li Wei’s hands—no one would suspect him. Moreover, smallpox was indeed a disease that frequently occurred in winter and spring, not something as obvious as poisoning. If the little imperial grandson contracted smallpox and died from high fever and unbearably itchy pustules, it would be considered ordinary infant mortality, not something caused by someone deliberately planting smallpox matter.
Had they not encountered a bold and careful doctor like Wei Caiwei, the pox matter would likely have remained hidden in the jade Guanyin’s base forever.
In his fury, Prince Yu wrote a secret memorial saying someone was plotting to harm the imperial heir and presented it to Emperor Jiajing. He couldn’t directly say he suspected his brother Prince Jing.
The secret memorial first reached Huang Jin, the head eunuch of the Ceremonial Directorate. Emperor Jiajing frowned whenever Prince Yu was mentioned—everything about Prince Yu Mansion was taboo in the Forbidden City. So unless there was important content, Huang Jin would only have Prince Yu’s submissions copied and archived without presenting them to Emperor Jiajing.
But today’s memorial was different, beginning with “Your son tearfully writes to His Imperial Majesty…”
Involving plots against imperial heirs, Huang Jin dared not suppress it and presented it to Emperor Jiajing.
Emperor Jiajing didn’t like Prince Yu, but his grandson was his grandson, an imperial heir. Plotting against imperial heirs was rebellion, disrespect to the imperial family.
No matter how much Emperor Jiajing disliked Prince Yu, he couldn’t ignore rebellion. With New Year approaching and such an incident occurring, Emperor Jiajing flew into a rage: “Summon Zhu Xixiao.”
Embroidered Uniform Guard Commander Zhu Xixiao received this hot potato.
Emperor Jiajing wanted Zhu Xixiao to secretly investigate this case, keeping Prince Yu Mansion in its original state as if no plot against the imperial heir had occurred, to avoid alerting the culprits.
The perpetrator had gone to such lengths using this method to harm the imperial grandson precisely because they were confident of concealing it perfectly, eliminating the imperial grandson without anyone knowing.
Now the enemy was in darkness, and they were also in darkness—everyone was in the dark.
Honestly, Zhu Xixiao’s first reaction was also that Prince Jing was behind it. But Prince Jing was far away in Anlu, Hubei, making it difficult to find direct evidence pointing to him.
However, it was also possible this was Prince Yu’s scheme of “guarding and stealing,” “crying thief while being the thief”—a bitter stratagem. After all, the little imperial grandson had been taken to Princess Yu’s care a few days before the jade Guanyin arrived at Prince Yu Mansion, conveniently away from Side Consort Li.
Moreover, the emperor was aging and had delayed establishing an heir. Prince Yu and Prince Jing were only twenty-three days apart in age. The court’s Grand Secretary Xu Jie openly supported Prince Yu. To balance between the two princes, Emperor Jiajing had delayed taking action against the Yan father and son in Jiangxi, even spreading rumors that His Majesty might reappoint Yan Song!
To check Xu Jie and Prince Yu’s power, preventing them from growing strong enough to threaten his absolute authority, Emperor Jiajing allowed these rumors, causing many fence-sitters in court to lean toward Prince Jing.
Emperor Jiajing’s meaning was clear: until he completely expired, he remained the Ming Empire’s sole master. No one, including his own sons, could share power with him.
In succession struggles between two princes, truth wasn’t important.
What mattered was whether one could extricate oneself after discovering the truth, avoiding resentment from either prince.
This was extremely difficult—whatever the outcome, they would offend at least one prince, possibly both.
What to do? The emperor had assigned the matter to the Embroidered Uniform Guard for secret investigation—it couldn’t be refused and had to be investigated.
Who was the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s most capable person?
The first person appearing in Zhu Xixiao’s mind was Lu Ying. Despite being a woman, she was a hundred times stronger than her brother Lu Yi. Lu Yi’s mourning period had ended a year ago; he married the daughter of former Personnel Minister Wu Peng, established a family and career, and came to the Embroidered Uniform Guard as a deputy commander.
Lu Yi was the heir of Loyalty Earl, officially appointed by Emperor Jiajing’s decree, who specifically ordered Zhu Xixiao to guide him. Zhu Xixiao treated Lu Yi like a treasure, not daring to assign dangerous work, keeping him busy with paperwork all day.
But Lu Ying was different—officially Lu Bing’s illegitimate son. Initially, Zhu Xixiao thought being a woman made fieldwork inconvenient and wanted to persuade her to resign, go home, marry, and have children.
But once he used her, he found “Scarface Handsome Young Master” truly useful—unafraid of powerful people above, not disdainful of trivial matters below, never competing with superiors for credit. Any difficult matter assigned to her, she’d take on without batting an eye and handle beautifully.
The Embroidered Uniform Guard truly couldn’t do without her. So this year, though Zhu Xixiao knew her mourning period had ended and she could marry—even her brother had married—he played dumb, never mentioning her leaving the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
Lu Ying had established herself through capability, becoming indispensable to the Embroidered Uniform Guard—even her biological brother couldn’t replace her role. For these siblings, Zhu Xixiao sought Lu Ying for important matters, Lu Yi for routine ones.
Who was more suitable than Lu Ying to handle this thorny case?
As soon as Zhu Xixiao returned to the Embroidered Uniform Guard, he called Lu Ying over.
Lu Ying first went to Prince Yu Mansion, viewing the valuable jade Guanyin through a window. This was definitely beyond Li Wei’s purchasing power—its origins were questionable.
Li Wei’s gambling relapse wasn’t secret—only hidden from the pregnant Li Jiubao.
Lu Ying disguised herself as a gambler, skillfully investigating several underground gambling dens, searching for traces of Li Wei’s visits.
Among them, she didn’t overlook the establishment that appeared to be Huaqing Pool bathhouse but was actually a gambling den inside. Li Wei was very “nostalgic”—he liked frequenting the dirty, smelly gambling dens he’d visited as a poor man. Smelling familiar odors energized him, though now his “luck had turned” and he won more than he lost.
Li Wei never visited high-class gambling dens with beautiful companions, luxurious furnishings, and wealthy gamblers—he preferred mixing with poor gambling addicts.
Lu Ying came to Huaqing Pool. Her first visit here was four years ago, investigating the Chen Qianhu father-son murder case. Wang Daxia had led her here, helping catch Chen Qianhu’s son’s book boy and extract crucial clues.
Wang Daxia’s “impressive” performance had led her father Lu Bing to recruit him to the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
To reach the inner gambling den, one had to pass through a bathhouse full of naked men. Wang Daxia hadn’t known she was a woman then and had led her straight in.
For the investigation, to avoid exposing her identity, she’d steeled herself and navigated the bathhouse, treating the surrounding people as breathing chunks of meat.
Four years later, passing through the men’s bathhouse again, she was even calmer, treating the naked men as air.
Reaching the underground gambling den, she skillfully used her sleeve’s concealment to slip a silver ingot into a waiter’s hand: “A tip for you. One question—has that mason Li Clerk been here recently?”
This technique showed she was experienced in the martial world. Lu Ying no longer had her former upright appearance, having picked up some of Wang Daxia’s roguish and street-smart air.
The waiter clutched the silver tightly: “He came. First bathed, then gambled all night. Ordered tea several times and a plate of grilled meat. Still as stingy as before—won so much money but wouldn’t give the slightest tip. I worked so hard running errands to buy his grilled meat; reasonably, the change should be mine as errand fee, but he took it all, not giving a single copper…”
According to the waiter’s description, that night Li Wei had gotten into a heated gambling match with a southern-accented merchant. The two gambled one-on-one with dice, betting on high-low, winning and losing in a stalemate.
Gamblers always get more anxious and angry as they play—a stalemate couldn’t end with calling it quits and shaking hands. They started with small amounts to warm up their luck, then bet larger and larger amounts, finally going all-in.
The all-in round caused a sensation in Huaqing Pool’s gambling den. All gamblers stopped to watch this big bet.
Li Wei won, taking all the southern merchant’s assets.
The merchant, unwilling to accept defeat, produced a prized possession—a jade Guanyin statue said to be extremely efficacious, with all pregnant women who worshipped it bearing sons.
The merchant hoped the jade Guanyin would help him make a comeback.
The waiter spoke enthusiastically: “…That jade Guanyin was incredible! Like it had a layer of Buddha’s light, obviously very valuable. But Li Clerk’s family had a golden phoenix fly out and climb high branches—how could a mere merchant’s luck surpass Li Clerk’s?”
“The southern merchant even lost the jade Guanyin and cried on the spot, saying he’d lost all the money earned from business in Beijing, had no face to return home for New Year, and wanted to crash into the wall and die. We held him back—businesspeople most fear bloodshed, and it’s New Year—unlucky! The boss had us drag him out of Huaqing Pool and dump him in the snow outside. If he froze or starved to death, it wouldn’t be our business.”
Lu Ying asked: “Where did the southern merchant go afterward?”
The waiter said: “Said he was returning to his Guangdong hometown for New Year. Li Clerk is a person—you could say he’s stingy, but not entirely. He wouldn’t spare a copper tip for me. But going outside and seeing the southern merchant crying in the snow, he gave five taels of silver, saying it was travel money home, comforting the merchant not to lose heart—he himself had once gambled away everything and now had made it through.”
“The merchant took the silver, kowtowed to Li Clerk in the snow, and left. But logically speaking, these gambling addicts never change. The merchant definitely didn’t go home with that silver—he probably tried his luck at other gambling houses. It’s possible he lost even his pants. You should ask around other places—you might find him.”
Lu Ying had an artist draw the merchant’s portrait based on the waiter’s description. She first went to the Guangdong Guild Hall where Guangdong merchants gathered—no such person. She checked several underground gambling dens—no such person.
Lu Ying even went to the Shuntian Prefecture office’s location for collecting corpses of those who froze or drank themselves to death nightly, comparing male corpses one by one—no such corpse.
After eliminating all options, Lu Ying reported her investigation process and results to superior Zhu Xixiao: “Based on evidence, this was a trap specifically set for Li Wei, targeting the little imperial grandson. Commander Zhu, I request additional personnel to monitor Prince Jing and permission to personally visit Anlu.”
Actually, this was Lu Ying’s first reaction upon receiving the case, but as an Embroidered Uniform Guard handling an imperial case, she had to set aside personal positions and convince with evidence. Otherwise, even if investigation led to Prince Jing, Emperor Jiajing wouldn’t believe it.
Perhaps Prince Jing might even counter-accuse her of sowing discord between father and son.
Lu Ying was upright but not foolish—she knew to protect herself before investigating cases.
Zhu Xixiao agreed: “…All actions must be reported to me in advance. No independent decisions—follow my orders completely.”
Lu Ying accepted and set out for Anlu, Hubei, without even celebrating New Year.
Just as she departed, court officials memorialized that His Majesty’s health was poor, suggesting Prince Jing in Hubei visit Mount Wudang to perform sacrifices on behalf of the Son of Heaven, praying for Heaven’s protection and the emperor’s swift recovery.
Mount Wudang was in Hubei, a Daoist holy site and sacred place in Emperor Jiajing’s heart. Emperor Jiajing believed in this and decreed that Prince Jing should perform Heaven sacrifices at Mount Wudang on behalf of the Son of Heaven.
Hearing this news, Lu Ying changed her destination to Mount Wudang. Reaching Linqing, she lodged at the Xie Family Inn as she had a year ago. Entering the main hall, she saw a wandering doctor raising a cup toward her.
Wei Caiwei had arrived in Linqing early!
“Why are you here?”
Wei Caiwei said: “From this use of pox matter against the little imperial grandson, they’re making desperate moves and will use ruthless methods—certainly as vicious as possible. Though I don’t know martial arts, I’m skilled at identifying and neutralizing poisons. I’m useful to you.”
Lu Ying brought Wei Caiwei through wind and snow toward Mount Wudang.
In the Central Plains, snow stretched endlessly. Thousands of miles away on Nan’ao Island in Guangdong, it still looked like summer.
Nan’ao Island was surrounded by water like a paradise, far from the mainland.
The Southern Song royal family had once fled here, establishing a small Southern Song court on Nan’ao Island, with court buildings still remaining.
Now, as Japanese pirates along the southeastern coast became fewer under the iron-blooded cleanup by the Qi and Yu armies, the southeastern situation stabilized. The driven-out pirates gradually fled to Nan’ao Island—this was a pirates’ paradise.
In a tavern, a dancing girl wearing red veils and red dance clothes performed a whirling dance. Her figure was tall and graceful with a large chest and tiny waist, her waist twisting like a snake, her large breasts trembling like two big coconuts.
She spun and leaped, her wrist bells “accidentally” striking a pirate’s head.
The struck pirate picked up the bell bracelet, staring at the dancing girl’s trembling coconuts, eyes glazed with lust: “Beauty, let me kiss you once and I’ll return your bracelet.”
The veiled dancing girl jumped down from the stage, whispering in his ear: “Let’s go outside—I’ll show you a good treasure.”
Author’s Note: They’ve evolved from big steamed buns to coconuts. Straight men just like this—look at the female character designs in games straight men play, each one bigger than coconuts.