The moment A’Luo left, Prince Anqing returned to his study and began pacing in deep thought. The imperial physicians had privately reported that medicine could no longer help Prince Ning, and that he could pass at any moment. He calculated the timing carefully, then secretly ordered the physicians to keep Prince Ning alive for half a month, no matter what.
Three years earlier, when he had been summoned back to Fengcheng, Prince Ning had spoken to him earnestly: “Younger brother, Ning Guo has known peace for over a hundred years. I am soft-natured by temperament, and have spent my whole life as a peaceable ruler. Yet the Wang family’s wolfish ambitions have quietly seeped into the court unnoticed. The Crown Prince was originally a fine young man, but if he takes the throne, our Liu clan’s power will inevitably weaken bit by bit. If only the Empress hadn’t insisted on the Grand Commandant’s daughter when the Crown Prince chose his consort. Should I pass, with both empresses of the two courts being women of the Wang family, I truly cannot rest easy.”
Both the Crown Prince, Liu Jian, and Prince Li, Liu Fei, had grown up under Prince Anqing’s watchful eye. Both princes were the finest among their brothers, each possessing the bearing of a true ruler. Prince Anqing understood well that ever since Empress Chen had passed, Prince Ning had carried a lingering guilt toward the Fourth Prince, yet with the Wang family’s outside influence growing too powerful to check, he’d had no choice but to name Liu Jian as Crown Prince. To preserve his own strength, Prince Anqing himself had taken personal command of the Right Flank Army and stationed himself far away at the border, splitting off a portion of the military power — though the vast majority of troops still remained under Grand Commandant Wang. Should the Crown Prince ascend the throne, with both military and imperial power in the Wang family’s hands, the fate of the Liu clan thereafter would be impossible to predict.
Prince Anqing said cautiously, “Does Royal Brother mean…?”
Prince Ning solemnly produced an imperial edict and placed it in his hands, bowing deeply to him. “To preserve our Liu clan, I must trouble you, younger brother.”
A grave expression settled over his weathered face, and Prince Anqing knelt and swore an oath: “I will not fail what my sovereign has entrusted to me!” He rose, his bearing suddenly proud and imposing. Prince Ning sighed quietly. “If you hadn’t once been lost in the arms of tender affection, this throne would have been yours — Ning Guo would never have had so many troubles!”
Prince Anqing shook his head. “Royal Brother is mistaken. My temperament is too fierce and volatile — I was never fit to be ruler. It was you, Royal Brother, who endured with patience and gentleness, magnanimous and composed, and that is how Ning Guo achieved decades of prosperity and peace. Father saw clearly from the start where my weakness lay — I can be the pillar that upholds and protects the nation, but I am not fit to rule it. That is why he granted me the Crimson Dragon Token.”
A flicker of emotion crossed Prince Ning’s gaunt face. “You and I are brothers of the same blood — together we shall safeguard the Liu clan’s foundation, and never fail our ancestors!”
Once back in Fengcheng, Prince Anqing was alarmed to discover that even holding the Crimson Dragon Token — which would let him take command of Fengcheng’s city defenses in a time of dire crisis — the Wang family’s decades of entrenched influence made it no easy thing to smoothly install his own people in command. What he feared most now was that the Fourth Prince might not make it back in time before Prince Ning’s passing. The Crown Prince, after all, held the position by proper right; barring some major misstep, how could this edict of Prince Ning’s possibly win over the court’s support? Without a legitimate cause, even if the Fourth Prince raised troops, it would be treated as rebellion. By then, the court would be split into two factions, and Ning Guo would face the danger of fracturing apart. Should Chen Guo dare to invade at such a time, the other kingdoms would surely seize the chance as well.
After three years in the military, the Prince of Li had surely made all his preparations by now. It was time for him to return.
At present, the Wang family was already on guard, and Prince Anqing had strictly forbidden Liu Jue from returning to Fengcheng carelessly, precisely so as not to give the Wang family any pretext. And now, travelling day and night from Linnan would still take ten full days. Any later, and there would truly be no choice but to raise troops and force their way into the palace.
Prince Anqing looked over the reply he’d meant to send to Liu Jue according to A’Luo’s wishes, thought a moment, and maliciously revised it: “The Chancellor’s Third Miss is deeply displeased with you and has caused an uproar demanding to call off the engagement. The Anqing residence has lost all face. The Crown Prince, hearing of it, intends to take her as a secondary consort — surely you wouldn’t have this old man help you snatch back your own bride?”
He then picked up his brush again and wrote a letter to Zili: “Return to Fengcheng within fifteen days!”
He sealed the letter with wax and summoned a Black-Cloth Cavalry death soldier. “Chi Feng, you are the leader of my Black-Cloth Cavalry’s Crimson Group. Take three men and slip out of the city in secret — you must deliver this letter personally into the Prince of Li’s own hands. If you are intercepted, destroy the letter immediately — even if only one of you survives, you must personally tell the Prince of Li that this prince demands to see him in person within fifteen days!”
Chi Feng knelt and answered firmly, “Rest assured, my prince!”
After Chi Feng departed, Prince Anqing called out softly, “Anye!”
A figure drifted in through the study door. “At your command, my prince!”
“You are the finest fighter among my Black-Cloth Cavalry. Take this token of mine and see the Prince of Li in person. Tell him this prince says he must bring troops to Fengcheng within fifteen days. As for the reason — filial devotion at his father’s sickbed will do.”
Anye seemed a little startled. “Does the prince not trust Chi Feng?”
“It’s not a matter of trust — this affair is too critical to allow for any mishap. Even if Chi Feng fails, we must still ensure the Prince of Li receives the message.” Prince Anqing said gravely.
Anye asked no further questions, took the token, and withdrew silently.
Liu Jue had taken the Black-Cloth Cavalry’s Xuan Group and Ming Group death soldiers with him to Linnan. Only three riders remained at the residence now. Prince Anqing looked over the letter meant for Liu Jue and summoned yet another Dove Group death soldier. “Deliver this to the young master within three days.”
With these matters settled, Prince Anqing fell into a daze. Winter had finally brought its winds to Fengcheng. He thought of Qingluo — this clever girl had grasped his intentions the moment she heard them. And yet, as far as he could tell, Qingluo was fond of that foolish son of his; even as she stirred these waters higher, it clearly wasn’t entirely for Liu Jue’s sake. He suddenly felt a pang of tenderness for his son, then, thinking it over, felt rather pleased with himself — the father was devoted in love, so naturally the son would be too.
Back at the Chancellor’s residence, Chancellor Li summoned A’Luo to his study. “How did things go with Prince Anqing?”
A’Luo said idly, “The old prince treated me very well. Prince Pingnan really is a good match for me.” Seeing joy spread across Chancellor Li’s face, A’Luo shifted her tone. “Though the Prince of Li isn’t bad either!”
Chancellor Li was startled — when had this third daughter of his developed a connection with the Prince of Li? If this fickle, wavering idea of hers ever reached Prince Anqing’s ears, the old man would beat him in public! “Don’t forget, you are already engaged to Prince Pingnan, and long overdue to marry — you’ve delayed this for three years already! Tomorrow I shall go discuss the wedding date with the old prince!”
A’Luo smiled. “Father, have you forgotten yourself? The sovereign is gravely ill — how could you possibly marry off your daughter at a time like this?”
Indeed, with the sovereign gravely ill, marrying off his daughter now would be quite inappropriate. Yet Chancellor Li stared at A’Luo, gritting his teeth somewhat. This daughter of his, gone for three years, had shed her old timidity entirely upon her return, and her words even carried a hint of resistance to the marriage. If he didn’t get her married off, there would be no end of trouble down the road. Calculations flashed rapidly through his mind.
Watching the uncertain flicker in Chancellor Li’s eyes, A’Luo added, “The Prince of Li holds real military power in his hands — what if something were to happen…”
Chancellor Li caught himself — indeed, the Prince of Li was no ordinary figure. With two tigers vying for supremacy, he had placed his bet on the Crown Prince, but what if there were an unforeseen turn? Whichever of the three daughters was sacrificed made no real difference to him — what mattered was hedging his bets on every side! Prince Pingnan was good, but if the Prince of Li were to triumph over the Crown Prince and become ruler, and A’Luo married him, wouldn’t the benefits to himself be even greater? But if he broke off the engagement, how would he explain himself to that old man Prince Anqing? His head began to ache again.
“Father, there’s no need to fret. Why not simply not marry off anyone for now? Better to see things clearly before marrying — there’s no rush!”
Chancellor Li’s face broke into a delighted smile. After all, Prince Pingnan was still in Linnan, and the Prince of Li was far off at the border too. He sighed inwardly at how shrewd A’Luo had become. “Good idea — truly my clever daughter! Tomorrow you’ll go see your sister in the palace — dress up nicely!”
A’Luo gazed at her reflection in the mirror — indeed, it was time to dress up well. Best to dazzle the Crown Prince and infuriate Qinglei and Wang Yanhui! Beauty only added to her confidence!
Qinglei had no wish to see Qingluo at all, yet there was no avoiding it. The Crown Prince said with a smile, “It’s been three years since you’ve seen your sister — wouldn’t you like to catch up with her? She is, after all, the future Princess Consort of Pingnan.”
Wang Yanhui chimed in, “I wonder whether Younger Sister Qingluo has changed after three years — I still remember that zither piece from back then to this day.”
A flicker of confusion crossed the Crown Prince’s eyes, before clearing again to something calm as still water.
Just then, a palace attendant knelt and reported, “The Chancellor’s Third Miss requests an audience!”
“Show her in at once!”
A’Luo walked with small steps into the Eastern Palace. Removing her heavy hooded cloak, she prostrated herself upon the ground. “Ten thousand years to Your Highness the Crown Prince — greetings to the Crown Princess and the Consort.” Her pale green gauze skirt spread out around her, her slender figure like the tenderest touch of spring on a branch as winter departed. The Crown Prince smiled. “We’re all family here, no need for such formality — rise.”
A’Luo rose gracefully, and as she lifted her head, her smile bloomed, and all three in the hall felt their hearts skip. Qinglei clenched her fists involuntarily, a voice crying out inside her: I knew it — with a mother like that, she was bound to grow into a beauty that could topple cities! Her eyes nearly blazed with fire as she glanced swiftly toward the Crown Prince’s face. Liu Jian stood frozen there, and Qinglei’s heart sank in sorrow — what man wouldn’t be moved by her?
Wang Yanhui was the first to recover, laughing. “I never expected Younger Sister Qingluo to have grown so beautiful — she quite takes our breath away, we feel rather plain by comparison!”
The Crown Prince came back to himself and smiled. “Prince Pingnan truly has good fortune.”
A’Luo pursed her lips. “Brother-in-law is teasing A’Luo again. Who said I was going to marry him? I don’t even like that brute!” As she spoke, she had already moved closer to Qinglei. “Elder Sisters — one so composed and dignified, the other so radiantly beautiful — A’Luo can’t compare at all.”
Wang Yanhui teased, “Doesn’t the Crown Prince have matters to attend to? Don’t let us keep him from his duties while we sisters have our heart-to-heart.”
Liu Jian was reluctant to leave, a question that had lingered in his heart for years still unanswered. Yet this wasn’t the moment to ask. His handsome face broke into a smile. “Since you’re here, stay at the Eastern Palace a few more days — your sister has missed you terribly.”
What did he mean by keeping her here? Was he trying to confirm something about that piece “Autumn Waters,” or did he mean to hold her as a hostage? A’Luo secretly grew wary, though her smile did not waver.
Wang Yanhui’s mind had already run through several possibilities. She observed that Qingluo’s claim of not wanting to marry Prince Pingnan seemed half true, half false. If she truly didn’t wish to marry him, then who held her heart instead? Prince Pingnan, Liu Jue, was handsome and dashing, made a prince while still young, his power the envy of many — by all rights he should be exactly the sort of man to win a girl’s heart. Having just been dazzled by Qingluo’s beauty, could it be that what she truly sought was even higher status?
Qinglei took A’Luo’s hand and asked Wang Yanhui, “Shall the three of us go to the pavilion by the water?”
Wang Yanhui said with an unreadable smile, “Certainly — I’ve been wanting a private chat with Younger Sister Qingluo anyway.”