Youthful Glory

Yun Yi's heart felt hollow. Not taking good care of the princess consort yesterday was her and Lü E's dereliction of duty—they deserved punishment. But Miss Lü E had accompanied the princess consort for many years and was directly executed, so what about her...

Thinking this, she put down the osmanthus sugar cake and quietly left the main room.

"Aunt Yun."

Someone suddenly called out to her in the corridor.

Yun Yi turned her head: "Miss Suxin."

Suxin smiled gently and stepped forward, offering the pastries in her hand: "Would you like some, Aunt? This is freshly made cheese pastry from the kitchen, still warm."

"No, thank you."

She was about to die—she had no appetite.

Suxin had only offered because she noticed Aunt Yun usually enjoyed these when visiting Qi'an Hall, but she didn't press further: "Then take care, Aunt. I'll bring these to Lü E."

"Wait—Lü E?"

"Yes, what's wrong? She took a harder blow than Her Highness yesterday. Her Highness had the imperial physician examine her too—she needs to rest for a few days and is still recuperating in her room."

She wasn't executed?

Yun Yi paused, then suddenly asked: "Miss Suxin, is there any special meaning behind Miss Lü E's name?"

Though puzzled by the question, Suxin patiently answered: "Not particularly. Her Highness loved plum blossoms as a child, so when Lü E and I were assigned to serve her, we were both given names related to plums. Her Highness's courtyard back in the marquis's residence was called 'Reflection Pond Court'—also a plum reference."

Yun Yi seemed to understand something and nodded before walking away. But after a few steps, she suddenly turned back, took a small portion of the cheese pastry, and said seriously: "Miss Lü E can't finish all this alone. I'll help her with some."

"...?"

Suxin watched Yun Yi's retreating figure with slight confusion—

Jiang Xu was entering the palace today. After breakfast, Ming Tan saw him off at the inner gate, unable to suppress her worries.

Though her husband enjoyed the emperor's deep trust and had broken rules more than once or twice, killing a marquis in public was no small matter.

But she knew little of court affairs, and her husband didn't seem concerned. After asking briefly, she didn't press further.

Emperor Chengkang had been waiting in the imperial study for Jiang Xu since morning court. It wasn't until mid-morning that the man finally arrived.

The emperor laughed in exasperation: "How leisurely of you. You didn't come yesterday—what, slept in at home, practiced martial arts this morning, had breakfast, and only then remembered to come?"

"Your Majesty knows everything?"

Emperor Chengkang: "..."

If he died suddenly, Jiang Xu would likely be the cause.

Too irritated to speak, he simply pointed at the two large stacks of memorials on his desk: "Read these yourself."

Killing Marquis Jiangyang in Pingguo Manor—regardless of the reason—was bound to draw censure from remonstrating officials. The entire court had debated yesterday's events during morning session, and afterward, memorials piled up like snowflakes on the emperor's desk.

Of course, Jiang Xu wasn't the only one criticized—Pingguo Manor received numerous memorials too, even implicating Empress Zhang. The deceased Marquis Jiangyang and Yi Manor faced even harsher accusations.

What truly troubled Emperor Chengkang wasn't the marquis's death, but how to deal with Feng Zhao.

Feng Zhao's actions had been a desperate, open attempt at mutual destruction—she never expected to escape unscathed. As for the devastation brought upon Yi Manor, she likely saw it as her parents' just deserts for favoring her elder brother.After being detained in the Imperial Clan Court, Feng Zhao confessed without hesitation, even proactively laying out her schemes in detail. This also brought to light some private matters within the Duke Ping's household.

Her ability to act with impunity in the Duke Ping's residence was partly due to inside help from the household itself.

Among the aristocratic families, interwoven relationships and complex marital ties were common. The third son of Duke Ping's household had taken a secondary wife—a younger half-sister from Consort Yi's maternal family, who was also Feng Zhao's aunt.

Feng Zhao had long been aware of some compromising secrets about this aunt, who had always been at odds with the third madam and enjoyed making trouble for her. With these advantages and some additional incentives, Feng Zhao had been able to carry out her plans smoothly during the elegant gathering.

Her thorough confession, combined with the rare intervention from Empress Dowager Su on behalf of Zhai Nianci, left everyone demanding justice. It was clear that Feng Zhao could not escape severe punishment this time.

But if Feng Zhao were punished, what about the marriage alliance with Nanlü?

Nanlü was a small southern barbarian state bordering Yuncheng, situated in a highly defensible mountainous region. Due to strained relations with the northern territories, the Great Xian had cut off horse trade for years. Fortunately, Nanlü also produced fine steeds, and the two nations had maintained friendly tea-and-horse trade relations.

With the recent ascension of Nanlü's new king, they wished to continue this amicable relationship and thus intended to send an envoy to Great Xian to seek a princess in marriage.

This news had been relayed by spies during the last month's political shifts.

Elevating a noblewoman for a marriage alliance was a trivial matter, and Emperor Chengkang had no reason to refuse.

He had previously discussed this briefly with Jiang Xu and privately considered Feng Zhao, the Princess of Yi Manor, as the ideal candidate.

First, Feng Zhao was of marriageable age. Second, the Yi Manor was politically neutral, posing no concerns. Third, the Yi family had originally returned to the capital from Yuncheng and was somewhat familiar with Nanlü, making her more suitable than other noblewomen in every respect.

However, his indifference toward Yi Manor meant he had never informed them. The Prince and Princess of Yi remained unaware and had secretly planned to marry Feng Zhao to Marquis Jiangyang, leading to Feng Zhao's despair and subsequent misdeeds.

Now, even if the court officials and noble families pretended nothing had happened and agreed to send Feng Zhao for the alliance, Nanlü was no fool. Presenting them with a woman of such notorious character would be an outright insult—was this meant to forge kinship or enmity?

With the envoy due to arrive in the capital in a few days, finding a suitable replacement seemed impossible.

There were few noblewomen of marriageable age to begin with, and Nanlü was a remote, minor state with an already established queen. Compared to becoming a consort there, most noble families preferred securing a prestigious marriage within Great Xian.

"So, what do you suggest we do now?" Emperor Chengkang asked.

"If Feng Zhao is unfit for the alliance, select another."

"You make it sound simple. Find me one, then."

Jiang Xu replied calmly, "Yongle County Princess."

"Yongle? No, Yongle can't..." Emperor Chengkang instinctively rejected the idea but paused mid-sentence, as if reconsidering.

Yongle had been found in disheveled clothing with Marquis Jiangyang in full view of others, compromising her virtue. Yet she had been framed—her character was blameless.

Moreover, the chastity Great Xian prized meant nothing in Nanlü, where customs were far more liberal. Their queen herself was twice-married, so they would hardly mind such trivialities.Moreover, Yongle was the beloved granddaughter of the current Empress Dowager. Marrying her off would further demonstrate Daxian’s sincerity in fostering peace through marriage. As for the Empress Dowager, she would never have agreed before, but now that Yongle could hardly find a suitable husband in Daxian, she was adept at weighing pros and cons and likely wouldn’t raise objections.

So it seemed… Yongle was indeed the perfect choice!

Emperor Chengkang was overjoyed, exclaiming “Excellent!” three times in a row. He immediately set off for Shoukang Palace.

The emperor had assumed that given the Empress Dowager’s notoriously stubborn nature, even if she agreed, she would deliberately drag her feet for a couple of days. To his surprise, after a brief moment of contemplation, she consented directly. This seemed to be the first time in so many years that the two had reached an agreement so swiftly.

That very night, when Zhai Nianci received the news at her residence, it struck her like a thunderbolt!

Nothing had happened between her and Marquis Jiangyang—she was still pure, and her future husband would naturally know. If the capital wouldn’t accept her, she could return to the north—why couldn’t she still find a good match?

Yet from the Empress Dowager down to her own parents, everyone believed that becoming a consort in Nanlü, that barbaric minor state, was now her best possible fate. No one cared what she thought!

She demanded an audience with the Empress Dowager, but the latter claimed to be unwell and temporarily unavailable to guests. When she threw a tantrum at home, her mother initially soothed her with gentle words, but eventually locked her in her room to reflect and calm down.

So how was she any different from Feng Zhao?

Back at Daxiang Temple, she had mocked Feng Zhao over her marriage prospects. Now, those very taunts had boomeranged back onto her like some cruel twist of fate. The Empress Dowager’s so-called favor was utterly worthless!

For a moment, Zhai Nianci felt nothing but icy despair—

Two days later, the matter concerning the Pingguo Duke’s household was finally settled.

Emperor Chengkang issued an edict: Feng Zhao, the County Princess, had conspired to harm Princess Consort Dingbei and Yongle County Princess. Her conduct was utterly vile, her crimes unforgivable. She was to be stripped of her title, demoted to commoner status, confined to the Imperial Clan Court, and forbidden from leaving for life.

The Prince of Yi, for failing to properly discipline his daughter and lacking virtue, was stripped of his princely title and demoted to Commandery Prince of Yi, ordered to return to Yuncheng.

Though Marquis Jiangyang was already dead, for defiling the County Princess and tarnishing his virtue, his crimes warranted no mercy. His noble title was revoked, his family property confiscated, and he was posthumously demoted to commoner status, with his descendants barred from official service for three generations.

At the very end of the lengthy edict spanning hundreds of words, Emperor Chengkang casually added that Prince Dingbei had acted recklessly, and the Duke of Pingguo had failed to maintain proper discipline in his household. Both were to forfeit six months’ salary as punishment.

To Ming Tan, all the other decrees seemed perfectly reasonable—but the reprimand against her husband? That was it…?

Yet none of the court officials found it strange. Some even considered it remarkable that the emperor had gone so far as to label Prince Dingbei’s actions “reckless” and dock his pay for half a year.

With this edict, the Pingguo Duke’s affair was brought to a satisfactory conclusion. Overall, Ming Tan was quite pleased.

The only thing that irked her was that Zhai Nianci, who had also played a part in framing her, was now cast as the complete victim. Though she might struggle to find a good match in the capital, with the Empress Dowager’s protection, she could still thrive back in the north. The thought rankled a little.

But her irritation didn’t last long.

Three days later, envoys from Nanlü arrived in the capital, seeking to marry a Daxian princess. The emperor gladly consented, decreeing that Princess Yongle would be wed to Nanlü to strengthen ties between the two nations.

And this Princess Yongle was none other than the former Yongle County Princess—Zhai Nianci.For a princess of a great nation, marriage to a foreign land was never a favorable fate. Leaving her homeland to become a consort in another court, history showed few royal brides who met a peaceful end. Moreover, she was merely given the imperial surname Jiang without even bothering to change her title—such a perfunctory gesture.

Ming Tan wasn’t angry, but neither did she gloat. A woman’s fate was often as unsteady as duckweed, with little control over her own life. One could only say this might be the bitter fruit of her own misdeeds.

This time, Nan Lü had come to the capital not only to seek a royal marriage but also to present the Great Xian with numerous rare treasures and fine steeds from afar.

When the horses arrived at the palace, Emperor Chengkang specially invited Jiang Xu to the royal stables to choose among them. Jiang Xu already owned many prized steeds and showed little interest—until his gaze paused on a small, snow-white colt. His steps halted. "The Moonlit Jade Lion," he murmured.

The stablemaster quickly replied with deference, "Your Highness has a keen eye. The Moonlit Jade Lion originates from the Western Regions, yet Nan Lü has presented one as tribute this time—though it is still a foal and will require time to mature."

Jiang Xu studied it for a moment before suddenly remarking, "A foal is good."

Emperor Chengkang gave him a puzzled look. "What would you do with a foal?"

Jiang Xu didn’t answer, simply claiming the horse for himself.

Just then, a eunuch attending the emperor approached to report that the rare treasures from Nan Lü had also been cataloged and stored in the imperial vaults.

"Good. Have the Empress distribute suitable items among the inner court as rewards. Ah, yes," the emperor recalled, "I remember there was a pair of orchid-carved scepters among the tribute. Send those directly to Consort Lan’s palace."

"As you command."

Turning to Jiang Xu, the emperor asked offhandedly, "Would you like to pick some items for yourself as well?"

It was merely a polite gesture. The Prince Dingbei’s household was vast and wealthy, never lacking for such luxuries. Moreover, Jiang Xu was known for his frugality—he could wear the same two sets of robes for three months straight. Unless bestowed directly by the emperor, he usually declined such offerings with a simple "No need."

Yet today, as if the Prince Dingbei’s residence had been plundered or some such misfortune occurred, Jiang Xu not only took the rare initiative to claim a horse but also nodded along and made specific requests: "One chest each of fine silks, jewels, and hairpins will suffice."