Princess Xiangyi was the most noble princess of the Daqing Dynasty, the legitimate sister of the Crown Prince from the same mother.
Actually, according to ordinary people’s thinking, how noble could a mere little princess be? Considering she was born into the imperial family, she’d get good food, drink, silks and satins. If unlucky enough to encounter foreign invasions, she could be sent off for a marriage alliance to promote friendly diplomatic relations between two countries. The common people would symbolically wave their handkerchiefs, historians would make a grand stroke of the brush, and that would be a life not lived in vain.
However, there are always exceptions to everything. When the current Emperor was not yet Emperor, due to an oversight, he caused the death of his most respected elder sister on the battlefield. It’s said this Princess Imperial pulled his hand before dying and said she would reincarnate as his daughter, hoping he wouldn’t be sad or distressed. Anyone listening would know these were comforting nonsense words, but the young Emperor believed them. Later when he took wives, all he thought about was having a princess. Whether his character was too good or too bad, these consorts’ bellies were more competitive than the last—male babies scrambled to pop out one after another. An old eunuch said that during that period, the Emperor would occasionally look at his row of strung-together princes with eyes full of lonely displeasure.
Princess Xiangyi emerged amidst much anticipation during such times.
One can imagine how appallingly doting His Majesty’s care for her was—not only did he confer the title of Empress upon her birth mother, he also established her blood brother as Crown Prince. Though afterward some consorts occasionally gave birth to princesses, given that each person’s capacity for love is extremely limited, even His Imperial Majesty was no exception, so this princess never had to worry about competing for paternal favor.
Undoubtedly, this princess who grew up amid universal adoration inevitably developed some rather unpleasant habits, such as extreme luxury and arrogant dominance. Over time, the princess’s infamous reputation resounded throughout the capital. Perhaps it was from that time that court ministers began harboring crooked thoughts.
Right during the princess’s coming-of-age year, Tibet launched a major attack on Qing, then sent envoys seeking peace. The Tibetan King desired a marriage alliance with Daqing to become sworn allies. At such times, there would always be foolish ministers destined to become cannon fodder—the Minister of Rites, encouraged by his colleagues, offered loyal counsel with forceful words, as if the world would fall into chaos and the people would suffer if the Emperor didn’t allow the marriage alliance.
The Emperor was reluctant: “Your words are reasonable, beloved minister, but I truly cannot bear to send my own child to that bitter, cold land.”
The Minister of Rites prostrated himself on the ground, tears streaming down his face, saying he also understood His Majesty’s difficulties, and if his family didn’t lack daughters, he would definitely share His Majesty’s worries, what a pity, what a pity, and so forth.
Upon hearing this, the Emperor laughed: “Your loyalty to the crown and concern for the country truly moves me, but you don’t know—that Tibetan King has always favored men, and this time he frankly stated that a male marriage alliance would be even better. I was originally concerned about how our dignified Daqing men could humble themselves before foreign lands, but since you’re so self-sacrificing for the people, I cannot bear to reject your kind intentions.”
That same year, the Minister of Rites’ only son donned bright red wedding robes and, amid his parents’ surging tears, departed desolately for Tibet, never to return to the realm for the rest of his life.
History’s blood and tears cannot be ignored. Thus, Princess Xiangyi gained considerable威名 in court with signs of growing prestige.
They say the imperial palace is ruthless, but actually before the princess turned fifteen, things were relatively calm—brothers, sisters, and palace consorts got along quite harmoniously. Unfortunately, good times don’t last—except for skilled warriors like Prince Rui, those thousands of miles away like Prince Lian, and those with peculiar natures like Prince Kang, the rest of the imperial heirs basically either died or were crippled, mostly related to treason and executed.
Coincidentally, just as the various brothers joined hands and departed together for the underworld while competing for that dragon throne above, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, who had the greatest reputation for virtue, abandoned his imperial status for the woman he loved and wandered the world. The Emperor’s health was much worse than before, and handling government affairs was somewhat beyond his strength. After much consideration, he issued two edicts.
First was establishing the fourteen-year-old Eleventh Prince Xiao Jingyan as the new Crown Prince, and second was appointing Princess Xiangyi Xiao Qitang as regent.
Just two days after the imperial edict was transmitted, before the censors had finished drafting their impeachment memorials and were brewing emotions to prepare for court audience with loyal counsel, who would have thought the Emperor would faint and not rise again. From then on, Princess Xiangyi was naturally pushed to the forefront. After half a year of this, her reputation for “covering the sky with one hand” came about.
The above affairs are what I’ve generally understood these past few days. It’s said the actual situation is even more complex and intricate—one careless move could result in falling into an irredeemable abyss. The person telling me these supposed facts is the Prince Consort. After he finally accepted my memory loss situation, he would often speak alarmingly. Hearing him describe all those past affairs, I can only say I’m quite helpless.
Admittedly, I’ve also pondered the fact that I’m a princess for quite some time, to the extent that I still haven’t fully digested it.
Last time I mentioned that after I impersonated the princess in court, was exposed by the magistrate, and was forcefully embraced by the Prince Consort, there was no continuation. Actually, it’s not my fault—whether from physical exhaustion or excessive shock, in any case I fainted. When I awoke, I was lying on a soft couch in the Princess Residence.
I heard that magistrate was also so frightened he planted his head on the ground, though the scene wasn’t completely unmanageable. Fortunately, this terrible drama still successfully cleaned up the Ling family young master, allowing the Wang Qi couple to clear their names and seek justice for their son.
This was naturally all thanks to the Court of Judicial Review’s keen insight, not much related to me resting in the residence. Of course, since the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, Song Langsheng, is my Prince Consort, there’s still a tiny bit of my contribution.
That day when I first awoke, I saw him sitting behind a desk with a large stack of case files piled on top. His bright eyes rested upon them, sometimes frowning, sometimes smiling. That half of his face toward me was outlined in gold by the candlelight—truly spring-like in appearance.
If such a person would smile, intoxicating spring breezes would linger around one’s heart for a long time.
At that time, half my head was dizzy and heavy. Still thinking I had entered the underworld, I unconsciously blurted out: “Are you a judge?”
Later Song Langsheng told me he nearly thought I had gone mad, shocking him almost to the point of madness as well.
I guess I must have really liked the Prince Consort before. Not only is he impossibly handsome, he treats me with meticulous care, except for having somewhat peculiar temperament.
For instance, though we’ve shared the same bed these past few days, he probably considers my weak constitution and hasn’t overstepped propriety. But last night at midnight he suddenly wanted to lean down and kiss me. I was so startled I pushed him away. Seeing him stiffen, I hastily tried to make amends: “I… I’ve lost all my memories now. You’re still quite strange to me, so…”
Before I finished speaking, he calmly climbed down from the bed, put on his outer robe and went out, leaving behind the words “I’ll return to my own room then, so as not to trouble the Princess.” I thought somewhat anxiously about whether he was unhappy, but then he returned after a little while and stood by my bed, reluctantly extending his finger to point at the pillow inside my bed: “That… I’m used to sleeping with it.”
After I gave him the pillow in a daze and he left without a word, I became somewhat certain he was truly angry.
Besides the Prince Consort, the Crown Prince was also troublesome. Upon learning of my return that very night, he rushed out of the palace to the residence. Seeing I hadn’t awakened, he called ten or eight imperial physicians. The physicians indicated I was simply undernourished and sleep-deprived, leading to physical exhaustion, and would recover after a period of rest. But the Crown Prince still gripped me tightly and refused to leave. If not for the Prince Consort’s persuasion, the physicians would have had even more to busy themselves with.
Song Langsheng said that besides him, only the Crown Prince—my younger brother—knew about my disappearance for over half a year.
I asked then: “During my absence, you and the Crown Prince worked together to conceal it?”
“Correct,” the Prince Consort answered. “We found a woman with a similar build to the Princess, who would disguise herself as the Princess daily to attend court. With the person behind a screen, the ministers naturally couldn’t distinguish.”
“Why do this?”
“For court stability, and to protect the Princess’s safety,” Song Langsheng said. “Court struggles have intensified due to His Majesty’s serious illness. The competition between the Lingnan faction of hereditary officials led by Chief Minister Zhao, and the Jianghuai faction led by Deputy Chief Minister Li (the Imperial Uncle) goes without saying. Though Prince Rui and Prince Kang don’t openly interfere, they privately have suspicions of associating with them. Two of the four great families—the Nie and Ling families—also intend to infiltrate the cabinet, while the other two families seem to be holding back, probably watching tigers fight from the mountain, waiting for the right moment. Current times are chaotic, and Princess, you are the center of balance and restraint.”
I listened with hair standing on end: “Me?”
“Chief Minister Zhao once served as the Princess’s junior tutor and has deep friendship with the Princess; Imperial Uncle Li naturally gives the Princess face for the Empress’s sake; Prince Rui and Prince Kang watched the Princess grow up from childhood and dote on her in every way; the Crown Prince is still young and relies entirely on the Princess, therefore…”
Actually, the Prince Consort’s long speech simplified means: there are currently several forces in court contending with each other. The main personnel are my teacher, my uncle, my uncles, my elder brother, and my younger brother. Originally at such times, the person who should come out to govern would be my father, but his health isn’t good. Since I have decent personal relationships with all these people, this arduous task was entrusted to me.
On the surface, I seem to control the power of life and death, able to overturn clouds and rain, but actually I’m just someone who pours cold water. Whenever one side is about to overwhelm another, I spring out and say friendly, “Hey! Brothers, let’s not hurt our harmony, come on, sit down and have some tea.” In the end, nobody wins. Over time, when this bellyful of fire has nowhere to vent, it often gets directed at that person.
This is why occasionally in history there are incidents like regicide or usurpation. Of course, most people still fear the mediator’s status—otherwise the dragon throne would change hands too quickly and sitting on it wouldn’t be much fun.
Getting back to the point, according to Song Langsheng, I had done rather well as this mediator before. At least it appeared the realm was at peace, and with me assisting the Crown Prince, his heir apparent position was fairly stable. Therefore, when learning of my disappearance, the Crown Prince’s first action was concealment. Imagine if people learned the regent princess had disappeared—who would assist in governing would become the primary issue. At that time, whether Prince Rui or Prince Kang, the one suppressed would certainly be the Crown Prince. Investigating deeper, regardless of who won, they would probably hope the princess wandering among the people would never return.
The Crown Prince used a fake princess for over half a year. Now having found me with great difficulty should have meant all was well, but tragically, I had lost my memory.
In this condition, let alone handling government affairs, I couldn’t even recognize people clearly. I couldn’t just randomly stand in court and point: “Hey! You there, what you said was quite impressive—I support you!” Which minister would be convinced by such a regent princess?
As for whether to inform the Crown Prince about my memory loss, Song Langsheng thought I should decide for myself.
I gazed up at the lotus ceiling and muttered something that shouldn’t come from imperial family lips: Being this princess is less comfortable than being a eunuch.
“Admittedly, being Prince Consort isn’t even as good as being the Princess.”
Song Langsheng’s words brought me back to reality.
I frowned and glared at him. He kept a straight face and said no more.
Sigh, he was still upset about last night’s incident, not even giving me a pleasant expression during meals.
At this moment, only the two of us sat in the hall.
After the serving girls arranged the dishes and withdrew, this princess who had eaten thin porridge for several days due to weakness looked at the table’s flower-like array of dishes with mouth watering. After tasting each one, I contentedly began eating heartily. When half full, I noticed Song Langsheng hadn’t touched his chopsticks from beginning to end, only concentrating on reading a case file. After thinking briefly, I reached out to place a dish with the best taste in his bowl: “This Qingfeng salamander fish is truly fresh and delicious—you should try some too.”
Song Langsheng raised his head and looked at me again and again with those bright eyes: “How does the Princess know this dish is called ‘Qingfeng Salamander Fish’?”
I was stunned.
Yes, how did I know this dish was called Qingfeng salamander fish?
“It just slipped out unconsciously…” I blinked. “Did I really like this dish before?”
“The Princess indeed loves salamander fish extremely.” Song Langsheng chewed slowly and said leisurely: “The Princess remembers it, yet no longer remembers me. Apparently I’m not even as good as a fish.”
Here we go again.
I smiled awkwardly: “I don’t even remember myself, yet I can remember the Prince Consort’s name. Comparatively speaking, the Prince Consort is more important to me than I am.”
Actually, I could remember his name only because his reputation was too prominent. If saying this could make him smile, it wouldn’t matter, but his hand paused, that displeased expression unchanged. I gave up this unrealistic idea.
This fellow clearly has such a good-tempered, well-behaved face. For instance, he has a pair of dark, lustrous eyes like black jade soaked in water, with subtle inner double eyelids. When he lowers his eyes, you can see long lashes gently drooping. When his eyes widen, they become single-lidded, carrying a unique grassy fragrance.
So the more he keeps a cold face, the more he looks like an angry child, with not a bit of intimidating power. I couldn’t help pondering how exactly he manages to be Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.
“What is the Princess thinking about?”
I quickly smiled: “Nothing much, and I can’t remember anything anyway.”
Song Langsheng sighed and placed a piece of chrysanthemum-fragrant meat on my plate: “The Princess can’t remember past events—don’t you remember anything from after your disappearance either? Your feet had blisters, obviously from walking a long distance. Your back had arrow penetration wounds—it must have been extremely dangerous. How much hardship did you endure among the common people, how many things did you experience? Why have you never mentioned any of it to me?”
A flash of dark blue figure suddenly appeared in the depths of my mind. That night’s cold moon pierced like a knife sheath into my heart again. I stiffly turned my head away: “Naturally they weren’t pleasant memories. Whether I speak of them or not doesn’t matter…”
“Doesn’t matter?” Song Langsheng slammed his palm on the table. “Do you know that during your absence…”
He stopped mid-sentence. I stared blankly at him: “What happened?”
Song Langsheng huffily rolled his eyes at me, but his tone was light: “I’m just trying to whet the Princess’s appetite. If you don’t speak, I won’t either.”
…This Prince Consort truly cannot be measured by common sense.
“But Prince Consort, how exactly did you become my Prince Consort? Political marriage or…” I swallowed. “Mutual affection?”
He looked at me without speaking.
The air fell silent for a moment.
After a while, his handsome features bloomed with a hint of smile: “Unrequited love.”
I was stunned—this was indeed an unexpected answer. “You… had unrequited love for me? But if I didn’t like you, how could Father Emperor… er, Father make you Prince Consort? Doesn’t he dote on me greatly?”
“I think the Princess misunderstood,” Song Langsheng said with interest. “I mean the Princess had unrequited love for me.”
Me: “…”
He smiled: “First you fell in love with me at first sight, then became infatuated at second sight, then forcibly abducted me to the residence. After cooking raw rice into cooked rice, you forced me to request marriage from His Majesty, otherwise you’d condemn me to death for offending the Princess. When I refused to submit, you threatened me with my clan members’ lives until I complied. So finally, I compromised.”
Me: “…”
He shrugged to indicate he was finished.
I stammered: “You’re… joking, right?”
He picked up his bowl and looked at me calmly: “This isn’t anything glorious for me either—why would I deceive the Princess?”
I stared at him dumbfounded: “Then… don’t you hate me thoroughly?”
He nodded matter-of-factly: “Indeed.”
Me: “…”
“However,” Song Langsheng assumed a thoughtful expression, as if considering how to phrase it, “after we married, the Princess was completely obedient and compliant toward me. Over time, I was somewhat moved.”
Me: “…”
He peacefully gnawed on chicken meat and added: “So-called love and hate are separated by a single thought…”
I had lost the ability to think: “So you… turned from hate to love?”
Song Langsheng across from me said calmly: “It’s love-hate intertwined.”
Me: “…”
Just as I couldn’t tell whether he was truly speaking facts or truly joking, a serving girl hurriedly ran into the side hall: “Princess Xiangyi, Prince Consort, Master Han requests an audience.”
Song Langsheng didn’t lift his eyes: “Tell him we’re dining and have no time for him.”
The serving girl said: “This servant already said so, but Master Han insists he must see Princess Xiangyi this time. He’ll keep waiting.”
“Then let him wait until tomorrow when he can attend court with me.”
The serving girl looked at me fearfully, her eyes full of pleading. Presumably this Master Han wasn’t easy to deal with. I waved my hand: “I understand. I’ll go see him shortly—let him wait.”
Only then did the serving girl withdraw.
I asked: “Who is this Master Han? From the conversation, it sounds like he’s sought me more than once. Do you know his purpose?”
“He’s Minister of Personnel. Nothing urgent—just wants someone. From when the Princess disappeared until now, he’s come no fewer than ten times. I’ve turned him away each time.”
I stared at the wine cup in his hand: “Who does he want? Why ask me?”
Song Langsheng lifted the wine cup to his lips, then set it down again: “Since the Princess is so curious, go meet him and you’ll know.”
This Minister Han was indeed waiting in the main hall. He hadn’t touched the tea and refreshments on the table. Seeing me and the Prince Consort walking out, he quickly stood, approached a few steps, swept his sleeves and knelt, his head hitting the floor with a thud that made my heart jump: “What… what are you doing?”
He didn’t lift his head, his forehead pressed against the cold floor: “Begging the Princess for mercy.”
I remained silent.
I originally wanted to say “Master Han, speak properly,” but felt this tone was too condescending. Then I considered “Please rise, please rise,” but worried this counted as a form of agreement, so I could only remain silent.
Seeing I made no sound, Minister Han could only remain motionless in his bent position. That back looked truly uncomfortable: “Princess, this old minister knows my son’s actions caused harm to Your Highness. This old minister is also grateful for the Princess’s mercy in not killing that evil creature. But the matter has passed for some time. That unfilial son is, after all, the only heir of three generations of the old Han family. Please, considering this old minister’s dedication to serving the court, forgive him.”
I looked at Song Langsheng in bewilderment.
He cleared his throat lightly and said sternly: “Master Han, you yourself say your son is unforgivably guilty. The Princess was magnanimous in sparing his life, yet now you want to push further. Though you hold high office and your family has served as officials for generations, you cannot abuse your position for personal gain.”
I thought I somewhat understood, though I was more interested in how exactly this Minister Han’s son had caused me harm, but unfortunately couldn’t ask on the spot.
Seeing Song Langsheng was unmoved, Minister Han turned his attention back to me: “If Princess Xiangyi agrees, he can certainly be dealt with according to law—beating or exile would be better than staying in the Princess Residence…”
How so? I waited for him to continue, but he choked up and said nothing. I couldn’t help feeling annoyed: “Master Han’s words suggest I’m keeping him in the residence, wronging him somehow?”
Song Langsheng’s gaze sharpened as he glanced at me. I was also surprised that this domineering tone came out so smoothly. Fortunately, Minister Han noticed nothing and said solemnly: “Since Your Highness already has a Prince Consort, why can’t you let go of my son? He… he ultimately failed Your Highness. Keeping him under your nose only increases Your Highness’s grief.”
His words confused me again: “What do you mean I can’t let him go…”
He probably misheard my questioning tone and instead seemed to make some resolution, lifting his head to say clearly: “Since the Princess no longer has a place for my son in her heart, please release him from the residence. What does it matter to lose one male favorite!”
Author’s Note:
Small clarification: Male favorite = male concubine
Writing 6,000 characters per Yi Shou Zhe Tian Yi Shou Chui Di – Chapter is exhausting… All you silent readers who freeload, please give me some face during my first month of publication and randomly say two sentences… If you don’t speak up, I’ll make my male lead and male supporting character elope together, just like in the picture, wuu wuu…