Spring Gazing Garden was brightly lit, yet unlike the hunting grounds, the clamor here carried an air of elegance.
The strains of music and graceful dances flickered among the pavilions, terraces, and water pavilions like a celestial paradise on earth.
Before the main hall, a hundred scholars sat at spread-out mats, now deep in their cups and dishes, many already flushed with drunkenness. Yet, these intoxicated scholars remained refined—no brawling or clamoring ensued. At most, some let their hair down and loosened their robes, while others wielded brushes to paint with fervor or raised wine pots to recite poetry aloud.
Under the corridor before the hall, the Third Prince also sat on the ground, devoid of any royal arrogance, joining the others in wielding brushes and composing verses.
"His Highness the Third Prince is a model for us scholars," many exclaimed in unison.
The Third Prince laughed heartily, raising his brush. "I wish to read alongside all under heaven."
A eunuch approached with a smile to refill the prince’s wine, whispering, "The path has been cut off. We may proceed."
The Third Prince lifted his cup, nodding graciously to a scholar who toasted him, then drained it in one go. Rising, he flung the cup aside, his wide sleeves swaying as he chanted poetry and moved with elegant steps.
The scholars laughed, joining in the chanting, their voices rising above the music and songs, soaring to the heavens. Onlookers and participants alike were intoxicated—such a scene of literary refinement was a rare sight.
Chanting as he went, the Third Prince made his way to the rear of the hall, where his maternal uncle, Official Zhao, awaited with a smile.
"Your Highness’s poem was exquisite," he praised, then asked, "Shall we act now?"
The Third Prince smiled, lifting his gaze to the night sky—devoid of moon or stars, as dark as ink.
"Truly a moonless night for killing," he mused, turning to Official Zhao. "The Crown Prince will surely feast through the night—a final indulgence before death."
Official Zhao smiled in agreement. "Your Highness’s thoughtfulness does justice to your brotherhood."
The Third Prince tightened his sleeves. "Let us go. I shall personally see my elder brother off."
A eunuch stepped forward to fasten a belt around the prince.
Uncle Zhao, standing by with hands tucked in his sleeves, remarked cheerfully, "May this parting ensure you never meet again in the next life."
The Third Prince laughed heartily.
Uncle Zhao added, "However, not all are accompanying the Crown Prince. Many remain in the city."
According to the original plan, the strike was to occur within the city—doors barred, crossbows encircling, and fires set to ensure none escaped.
But now, with the Crown Prince and his household at the hunting grounds, they had to divide their forces. Thus, only the key factions could be dealt with—such as the Yang Family and the Xie Family.
"That will suffice," the Third Prince said dismissively. "Once the Crown Prince is dealt with, what do the rest matter?"
Resigned, Uncle Zhao pondered and decided to add one more target.
"Remember to set a fire at Chu Garden while you’re at it," he instructed his attendants.
It was all because of that young woman who meddled. If not for her, there would have been no Chu Garden Literary Gathering, no leverage for the Crown Prince to arrest people at will, and no hunting event for him to flaunt his power—disrupting their plans.
With his long-cherished wish on the verge of fulfillment, the Third Prince was in high spirits and felt less vexed by the young woman.
He smiled, his pale, pointed chin tilting. "Uncle, do not fret. That young woman—we’ll make her beg for death in the future. Letting her die now would be too merciful."
With that, he took the cloak handed by a eunuch and swung it over his shoulders. The large hood concealed his head and face, and in an instant, he melted into the darkness.
...
...The night was deep, but the clamor outside grew even louder, unable to be muffled by the thick tent walls.
Fortunately, the child, exhausted from a day of play, was sleeping soundly.
The Crown Princess tucked the thin quilt back over her son, who had kicked it off, and her gaze fell upon the bamboo tube nestled within the covers—she didn’t know what treasure it held, but the eunuchs had quietly informed her that the Little Highness had originally intended it for the Crown Prince.
Even though the Crown Prince often neglected his son, the boy remained deeply attached to his father. The Crown Princess understood this, and she had always raised and educated her son with this in mind—after all, this father was not just a father but also his sovereign.
She left the bamboo tube untouched, carefully studying her son’s peaceful sleeping face, her eyes filled with adoration.
A palace maid standing nearby chuckled softly, "The Little Highness still resembles you more."
The Crown Princess smiled. "The Crown Prince is not unattractive either."
The maid pressed her lips together in a smile. Without the prying eyes of the palace around, the conversation between mistress and servant was more relaxed.
"Let the Little Highness sleep," the maid whispered, helping the Crown Princess to her feet.
As they stepped out of the tent, the clamor struck them like a wave. Seeing the flickering flames and dancing figures ahead, the Crown Princess instinctively raised a hand to her forehead.
"Your Highness," the maid said quietly, "you should rest now. The Crown Prince will surely be up all night today."
This hunting event lasted three days: the first night was for revelry, the second for rest, and the third for feasting. The couple might exchange a word or two during that time.
Whether in the palace or outside it, what difference did it make?
A flicker of sadness passed through the Crown Princess’s eyes. Though long accustomed to it, she had still held a sliver of hope for this outing—a hope that the three of them could spend time together as a family.
She shouldn’t have indulged in such fantasies.
The Crown Princess lowered her gaze and turned away, but a moment later, she glanced back as if remembering something.
"Why hasn’t the person sent to Yanfang returned yet?" she asked.
Although Yanfang seldom visited her, whenever she sent someone to him, a reply always followed.
The maid replied, "It’s so late—Third Young Master must have let them stay the night. They’ll likely return together in the morning."
That was just as well. With the matter entrusted to Xie Yanfang, she need not worry. The Crown Princess smiled, her spirits lifting. It didn’t matter whether the Crown Prince accompanied her or not; as long as Yanfang was here, the Crown Prince would not ignore him.
That was enough.
Without another glance toward the Crown Prince’s direction, the Crown Princess entered her tent with a smile.
Though Xie Yanfang was not present at that moment, the Crown Prince was just then speaking of him.
The Crown Prince was reminiscing with those around him.
"Back then, Xie Yanfang was just a child in my eyes, but the strength behind that arrow of his was truly remarkable," he said with a laugh.
The strongmen surrounding him chimed in with praises: "Your Highness has always valued talent!" "Your Highness is broad-minded, capable of embracing the world!" "As long as one has true skill, Your Highness will treat them with generosity!" "With a Crown Prince like you, our Great Xia has nothing to fear!"
The Crown Prince waved a hand dismissively. He had heard such flattery too often; surely everyone thought the same. His eyes swept over the crowd, glazed with drink but sharp with clarity.
"Truth be told," he chuckled, "when I was young, no one praised me for my strength. Especially my father—whenever someone remarked on my strength, he would scoff, 'Ha! I’ve raised a dandy!'"
Most of the strongmen were rough, uneducated men. One curious fellow asked, "What’s a dandy?"
Those nearby quickly hushed him and explained in low tones what the term meant.
The Crown Prince continued to laugh heartily."My father the Emperor waits all day to see me crushed to death," he said, rising to his feet. "Today, my third brother hosts a literary gathering to show Father his scholarly achievements. I host a hunting assembly to show Father that I won't be crushed to death."
Having spoken, he raised his hand and drank.
"Attendants, bring it forth."
Everyone hurriedly stood up as four strong men carried a ceremonial tripod into the center of the arena.
This—was going to be—
The arena immediately erupted in commotion.
Eunuch Qi moved to rush toward the Crown Prince. As the Emperor's personal attendant, he was the most qualified person here to intervene.
"Your Highness, you mustn't—"
But Eunuch Zhu stopped him, smiling. "Don't worry, His Highness knows his limits," he whispered. "He's been practicing for over a year. This tripod was specially selected—the most suitable weight that's absolutely liftable yet safest—"
But it still took four men to carry it! Eunuch Qi frowned. "This is too reckless!"
Eunuch Zhu held him back, murmuring, "Don't you understand? More carriers make it appear heavier. In truth, two men could lift it easily."
Yet—Eunuch Qi's face remained clouded with concern as cheers began rising around them.
"The Crown Prince is mighty!" everyone shouted. "The Crown Prince is mighty!"
Eunuch Zhu chuckled softly. "They all know—we rehearsed this earlier."
So this entire spectacle was arranged for his benefit? Eunuch Qi seemed to understand now.
The Crown Prince glanced toward Eunuch Qi at that moment, calling out loudly: "Eunuch Qi, watch closely! Return and tell my father: I am no delicate nobleman, and the Great Xia will have no King Wu of Qin."
Ah, this child, Eunuch Qi sighed inwardly. Still holding onto that grudge after all these years.
The Crown Prince now stood before the tripod. He removed his upper garments, revealing a powerfully built torso, then bent his knees and grasped the vessel. The surroundings fell silent instantly. The next moment, with a mighty roar, he lifted the tripod overhead.
The Crown Prince stood firm as a mountain, the tripod raised steadily in both hands.
A breathless silence, then thunderous applause.
"The Crown Prince is mighty!" "The Crown Prince is mighty!"
Eunuch Qi smiled wryly and raised his hands, shouting: "This old servant has seen, has seen! Your Highness, please set it down now!"
His voice vanished in the roaring cheers.
The Crown Prince, having lifted the tripod, didn't maintain the pose unnecessarily. Gathering his strength with a sharp exhalation, he began turning to set it down.
But at that precise moment, among the cheering crowd, a strong man crouched down and flicked his fingers. A pebble skimmed across the ground toward the Crown Prince.
As the Crown Prince slightly lifted his foot to pivot—whether soundlessly or with a faint thud—the pebble struck the sole of his foot.
Like a stab through his heart, the Crown Prince's foot twisted instinctively. Instantly, as if struck by lightning, his entire body seemed to shatter.
Disaster—he'd sprained his ankle!
No, this wasn't merely bad—what came next was worse—
The Crown Prince looked upward, where the sky seemed to be collapsing upon him.
It's over!
...
...
Eunuch Qi stood frozen, witnessing this scene unfold like mountains crumbling and earth splitting. In that moment, he could hear nothing.
Only one thought remained in his heart:
Who was truly to blame? The Emperor whose poisonous words provoked the Crown Prince's recklessness? Or the Crown Prince himself, with his narrow-minded arrogance?
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