Youthful Glory

Returning from the bamboo grove to the house, Ming Tan seemed somewhat distracted. Occasionally, she would glance at Jiang Xu, hesitating to speak.

Jiang Xu assumed she was still frightened by the snake and didn’t think much of it. He simply sipped his porridge while reading the morning’s official gazette.

In the end, it was Ming Tan who couldn’t hold back. She tentatively asked, “Husband, have you ever heard of Lingmiao Temple?”

Lingmiao Temple?

Jiang Xu paused for a moment before continuing to drink his porridge, not even lifting his gaze as he calmly countered, “Didn’t you go there to pray after breaking off your engagement with the Ling Guo Gong Mansion?”

“Ah, yes…”

Ming Tan buried her face in her hands, wishing she could slap herself twice. How could she have forgotten about the broken engagement?

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Ming Tan quickly changed the subject, picking up a piece of crispy pastry for him. “Husband, try this. Suxin specially gathered fresh petals this morning to bake it.”

Jiang Xu accepted it without further questions.

Ming Tan secretly sighed in relief. She had no desire to revisit the old history of her broken engagement with her husband—it wasn’t exactly a glorious or pride-worthy matter.

Realizing she couldn’t bring up Lingmiao Temple again, Ming Tan didn’t know how else to ask. She could only console herself that her husband’s response had been completely normal, suggesting it likely had nothing to do with her mutterings in the temple. Perhaps she had been talking in her sleep or had mentioned it casually without remembering.

Jiang Xu flipped through the gazette, his eyes briefly sweeping over Ming Tan, who was still clutching her forehead in frustration. The corner of his lips unconsciously curled upward.

That day, Emperor Chengkang summoned Jiang Xu for an audience. Before leaving, Jiang Xu issued an order to his guards: “Take some men to the bamboo grove and kill all the snakes.” His tone was indifferent.

“Understood. Your subordinate obeys.”

The guard accepted the command readily, but as he turned away, he thought expressionlessly: Killing snakes? He’d rather be sent to kill people—at least that would be more satisfying.

In the height of summer, snakes and insects were abundant. Even if they cleared the bamboo grove, the lush vegetation of Yongchun Garden meant others could slither in from elsewhere. How were they supposed to eradicate them all?

Qingping Hall was vast and serene, with the faint scent of agarwood lingering in the air.

Emperor Chengkang and Jiang Xu sat across from each other at a chessboard.

As the emperor, Chengkang was naturally skilled in many things. When it came to chess, he could hold his own against Jiang Xu without any need for the latter to go easy on him.

As he placed a piece, Chengkang brought up political matters: “Yesterday, Lingzhou’s Maritime Trade Commissioner Yu Bozhong submitted a memorial stating that the supervising official Zhou Baoping had been indulging in debauchery and cruelty. Five days ago, he was found dead in his home.”

Jiang Xu kept his gaze on the board, listening quietly.

Chengkang continued, “Lingzhou’s maritime trade taxes have been declining year after year, yet the number of foreign merchants coming and going has multiplied. I merely sent Zhou Baoping to investigate, and within half a year, he was gone. It seems Lingzhou truly is impervious—water can’t seep in, and knives can’t pierce through.”

Jiang Xu remained silent.

After rambling on for a while without a response, Chengkang tapped the table impatiently. “What do you think?”

“What does the Right Prime Minister think?” Jiang Xu countered.

“The Right Prime Minister believes Lingzhou is the Su family’s last stronghold, cultivated over generations and not easily dismantled. He advises proceeding with caution.” Chengkang repeated the words dutifully before adding in frustration, “All useless platitudes.”

“The Right Prime Minister isn’t wrong. The Empress Dowager’s faction has deep roots, and their greatest reliance now is Lingzhou’s maritime trade. Even a cornered rabbit will bite. Acting too aggressively may lead to more losses than gains.”"How could I not know, but does that mean we should give up just because it's a tough bone to chew? The maritime trade in Lingzhou is flourishing more each day. What does the Su family think they're doing, carving out their own kingdom there? Quickly, think of a solution for me."

Jiang Xu looked at the black stone piece trapped in the corner with no way to break free, lowered his gaze, and suddenly placed a stone near it.

"What Your Majesty truly desires is control over maritime trade. Since Lingzhou is difficult to conquer, why not open another port and proceed gradually?"

Emperor Chengkang paused.

The Great Xian had previously lost sixteen northern provinces. Over three dynasties, five remained unrecovered by his reign. It was Jiang Xu who led years of military campaigns to reclaim the Xi, Li, Yu, and Dong provinces from the northern barbarians.

With northern threats unresolved and southern barbarians still harassing, opening new ports had been approached with extreme caution across several dynasties.

Emperor Chengkang had considered opening another port, but such an endeavor couldn't be accomplished overnight. Just deciding whether to open one and where could keep court officials debating for over a month.

After long contemplation, he suddenly asked, "If we were to open another port, where would you suggest?"

"Quanzhou, Tong Port."

"Tong Port?"

When Jiang Xu first mentioned this small place, Emperor Chengkang couldn't even recall its location. It took him a while to visualize its geographical position in his mind.

As if remembering something, he abruptly set aside the game and called for a map.

Quanzhou was separated from Lingzhou by two provinces, yet its maritime distance to major trading partners like Moyi, Boni, Jiaozhi, and Zhenla was nearly the same. This made it geographically convenient to divert the well-established trade from Lingzhou.

Moreover, Quanzhou neighbored Yuzhou, where the Yuxi region served as a crucial passage for western territories, guarded by prosperous counties like Xizhi and Pangshan. Opening Tong Port in Quanzhou could further facilitate transportation links to Yuzhou.

Most importantly, Quanzhou was far from both northern and southern barbarian territories. Opening a port there would eliminate concerns about pirates and barbarians joining forces.

However, "Quanzhou isn't prosperous. The Tong Port you mentioned is just a tiny coastal town in Quanzhou, impoverished for years, incomparable to Lingzhou." Opening a port required some foundational conditions.

"A blank sheet is easier to write on."

That wasn't wrong either.

Emperor Chengkang nodded.

"I'll need to consider this further," Emperor Chengkang said, tapping the map. "Even if we open a port, it would be difficult to take a share from Lingzhou in the short term. So regarding Lingzhou... no matter what, we must at least insert someone there. Whether it's procurement or not, the taxes must be fully paid to me."

He sighed again. "Zhou Baoping was loyal and shrewd. He's been in Lingzhou for nearly half a year. His recent misfortune suggests he might have uncovered something. I need to send someone to investigate how he died."

Jiang Xu neither agreed nor disagreed.

After some thought, the emperor asked, "A-Xu, who do you think is suitable to go?"

Jiang Xu didn't answer, only raised his eyes to meet the emperor's gaze.

"It doesn't have to be you," Emperor Chengkang instinctively dismissed. "I think Shu Jingran should go. It would be good experience for him. As the Right Prime Minister's son, the Su family wouldn't dare act recklessly."

"Since I have nothing pressing, I'll go with him and visit Tong Port along the way."

"Very well, as you wish." Emperor Chengkang didn't dwell on it.

After concluding official matters, the emperor chatted idly with Jiang Xu for a while. However, Jiang Xu had little interest in casual conversation and soon prepared to leave.

As he stood, Emperor Chengkang noticed a sachet hanging from his waist and found it oddly intriguing. "Since when do you wear sachets?"Since his youth, he had enjoyed keeping company with his cousin Jiang Xu. Perhaps because both faced similar hardships, he always treated Jiang Xu with particular care.

Yet Jiang Xu had never shown him a friendly face since childhood. One Dragon Boat Festival, he gifted Jiang Xu a sachet embroidered by a maid to ward off insects. Jiang Xu not only refused the gesture but also said with a stern, puffed-up face, "A gentleman does not adorn himself with women's trinkets."

Jiang Xu lived by his words—this refusal to wear sachets lasted over a decade.

Moreover, Jiang Xu's remark left him feeling guilty as well. For more than ten years, he too refrained from wearing sachets. If he absolutely had to, he would tie it behind his elbow, hidden within his sleeve.

Today was peculiar—this "women's trinket" seemed to have grown legs and climbed onto Prince Dingbei's waist all by itself.

Emperor Chengkang glanced at him with a faint, knowing smile.

He couldn't be bothered to explain and simply turned away, hands clasped behind his back.

Watching his retreating figure, Emperor Chengkang, on a whim, suddenly summoned a palace attendant and asked, "Which consort made that sachet? Bring it here for me to see."

The attendant complied, hurrying to fetch a sachet sent by a certain junior concubine, all the while muttering to himself. When it had been delivered from the palace the other day, hadn't His Majesty said, "Embroidering sachets? If you're in the palace, behave properly. If you have nothing better to do, copy a few sutras to calm your mind." He had even scolded the attendant, "This new concubine doesn't know the rules, and neither do you? When have I ever worn sachets? Don't bring such nonsense before me!"

Truly, the emperor's thoughts were as unpredictable as the weather—

Meanwhile, on his way back to Chunxing Pavilion, Jiang Xu encountered Consort Lan.

Seeing him, she stopped and curtsied, "Greetings, Your Highness, Prince Dingbei."

Jiang Xu gave a slight nod. Since this path led only to Chunxing Pavilion, he asked, "Are you here to see the princess consort?"

Maintaining a respectful distance, Consort Lan lowered her eyes and replied softly, "Yes. I heard that the princess consort ate too many chilled lychees a few days ago and fell ill. I felt rather guilty—that basket of lychees was my gift. Today, I brought some fine tea to apologize."

"She was greedy. It has nothing to do with you."

Greedy.

This was the first time she had heard him describe a woman with such an emotional word.

As they neared the pavilion, Consort Lan pursed her lips, as if struck by a sudden thought, and said, "Since I've met Your Highness here, might I trouble you to deliver this tea to the princess consort on my behalf?"

No sooner had she spoken than a woman's cry rang out from the pavilion ahead—

"Ah—!"

"Princess Consort!"

"Miss!"

Hearing the commotion, Jiang Xu glanced toward the source. In an instant, his feet barely touched the ground as he vanished like a shadow.

The cries had come from the swing outside Chunxing Pavilion.

Ming Tan had been sitting on the swing, letting her maids push her, intending to enjoy the breeze and take in the boundless beauty of Yongchun Garden from a higher vantage point. But after a few pushes, she suddenly spotted Jiang Xu and Consort Lan in the distance.

Unsure if her eyes deceived her, she urged the maids, "Higher! Push me higher!"

"Miss, no higher! It's dangerous!" Suxin fretted.

"It's fine, just a little higher."

Ming Tan finally got a clear view.

It really was Jiang Xu and Consort Lan.

Why were they together? And... they seemed to be heading toward Chunxing Pavilion.

Though Jiang Xu had already explained their relationship, Consort Lan was, after all, the woman who had nearly been betrothed to him—serene as an orchid in a secluded valley, and someone he had personally praised for her talent.

A thought flashed through Ming Tan's mind: No matter what, she couldn't afford to lose standing next to Consort Lan!So she hurriedly said, "Suxin, shake the pear tree quickly, and you all, push the swing higher!"

She imagined it in her mind: pear blossoms raining down as she soared on the swing, her sleeves fluttering in the wind, accompanied by the lighthearted laughter of a young girl. Yes, perfect—it would have quite the ethereal charm of a celestial maiden descending to earth.

Ming Tan was just preparing her laughter when, as the swing reached its lowest point, she let go with one hand to adjust her wind-tousled hair and the front of her robe.

Who would have thought that the moment she let go, the swing was instantly pushed to its highest point? Her other hand lost control, half her body leaned outward, and then her entire body was flung outward—unexpectedly hurled off the swing at its peak!

In that instant, Ming Tan's mind went blank, her heartbeat seemed to stop, and the sound of rushing wind filled her ears. She couldn't think of anything, only instinctively squeezed her eyes shut and screamed, "Aaaaaah—!!!"