A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City-Chapter 108

"The noble’s identity was a secret, and I was forbidden to speak of it. How could I dare tell the family?" Ming Zhenyu lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously fiddling with the jade pendant at her waist.

"You were lucky to have a noble’s help back then," Ming Jisi reminisced. "On the day you fell into the river, the family at the end of our alley—their daughter, a few years older than you—was found dead, floating in the water for days before anyone noticed."

"Really?" Ming Zhenyu’s fingers stilled. "I don’t remember that."

"After you were rescued, you had a high fever and took over half a month to recover. No one told you about it, so of course you wouldn’t know."

The carriage fell silent. After a long pause, Ming Jisi couldn’t resist speaking again. "Do you think the Ming Family ever found their daughter?"

Since the three Ming brothers had split from the main family, little news of them had reached the ancestral branch. All they knew was that their official ranks had risen higher and higher, their status growing ever more esteemed.

"If Madam Ming hadn’t discovered you weren’t her daughter back then, you’d be the daughter of a high-ranking official now," Ming Jisi said, a hint of regret in his voice.

He truly couldn’t understand it. Before sending their sister to the Capital City, the main family had made thorough preparations. Ming Jingzhou and his wife had never even seen their daughter grown up—how had they realized she was an imposter?

"Who cares about being their daughter?" Ming Zhenyu scoffed. "For all we know, their real daughter is long dead."

Just then, the carriage came to an abrupt stop in a quiet corner of the street. Ming Zhenyu lifted the curtain and smiled sweetly at the coachman. "Brother, have we arrived at our benefactor’s residence?"

"Young miss, don’t worry. A noble’s carriage is passing ahead, so we must yield the way," the coachman replied, steadying the carriage with practiced ease. His humble appearance belied his true identity—no one would guess this ordinary-looking man was a member of the Imperial Guards.

A noble?

Her "benefactor" was a noble, and now they were making way for another noble. Just how many nobles were there in the Capital City?

Before long, eight snow-white horses drew a magnificent carriage down the center of the road. The carriage was adorned with gold and jade, flanked by sword-bearing guards on horseback. Even these guards wore luxurious fitted robes, exuding an air of formidable dignity.

What kind of exalted figure must be seated inside?

At that very moment, a delicate hand lifted the carriage curtain—pale and slender, its nails tinted a soft red, perfectly complementing its owner’s grace.

Ming Zhenyu caught a glimpse of the carriage’s occupant: a face both beautiful and untouched by worldly worries, as pampered as a princess born into luxury.

Watching every carriage on the road yield to this woman, Ming Zhenyu couldn’t help but ask curiously, "Brother, this noble is so beautiful—is she a princess?"

"She is not a princess, but she is as revered as one." Though the figure inside couldn’t see him, the coachman respectfully cupped his hands toward the carriage. "That is the Princess Consort of Chen, esteemed not only by Prince Chen but also beloved by His Majesty and the Empress."

"The Princess Consort of Chen..." Ming Zhenyu murmured, envy tinging her voice. How wonderful it must be to marry a prince—the entire Capital City would bow before her.

A man approached and whispered something into the coachman’s ear. The coachman nodded slightly before turning back to Ming Zhenyu. "Young master, young miss, our master has prepared a quiet courtyard for your stay. Please follow me there to settle in."

Ming Zhenyu’s heart sank with disappointment. It seemed her benefactor had no intention of meeting her immediately.

"Repaying a life-saving grace is no small matter. I couldn’t possibly trouble our benefactor to arrange lodging for us," she said with a gentle smile. "We’ve come to the Capital City solely to repay this kindness and nothing more."

"Young miss, your gratitude is truly admirable," the coachman sighed. "To be honest, my master has encountered some difficulties recently and thus has no leisure to receive you."

Noticing the coachman’s subdued expression, Ming Zhenyu felt a pang of unease. Forcing a smile, she relented, "In that case, I shall temporarily stay in the courtyard our benefactor has prepared."

She made no further mention of repaying the favor.

The coachman smiled. "Please make yourselves comfortable, young miss. We’ll arrive shortly."

Among the princess consorts of the imperial princes, Jiuzhu was undoubtedly the one who visited her parental home the most frequently. To outsiders, it might seem that the Princess Consort of Chen was helping Prince Chen forge ties with the Ming Family’s influence. In truth, Jiuzhu simply enjoyed bringing His Highness home for meals.

Ever since Prince Chen had praised his mother-in-law Shen Ying’s culinary skills, Shen Ying had taken to cooking personally whenever Jiuzhu and the prince visited—and she did so with genuine delight.

This left Ming Jiyuan in a rather complicated mood. In the past, their mother had rarely cooked even once a year. Now, everything had changed.

With their bellies full, the family lounged in the courtyard, sipping tea and chatting in perfect contentment.

After a while, Ming Jinghai stood and dragged Ming Cunfu away to study. With the Emperor having announced a special imperial examination this year, Ming Cunfu was among those preparing to take it.

For this reason, Ming Jingzhou, as Ming Cunfu’s uncle, had recused himself from all matters related to the examinations to avoid any appearance of impropriety.

Watching Ming Cunfu being hauled off by his elder brother, Ming Jingzhou chuckled before turning his gaze to Prince Chen.

The prince’s hand, midway toward a pastry, froze midair. What did that look from his father-in-law mean? Was he about to be dragged off to study too?

"Your Highness," Ming Jingzhou began with a smile.

"Father-in-law, please speak," Prince Chen straightened his posture. At this critical moment, Jiuzhu thoughtfully slipped a pastry into his palm.

"It’s nothing," Ming Jingzhou took a sip of tea. "I heard that some time ago, you and Jiuzhu rescued several commoner women who had been forcibly purchased by aristocratic families?"

Prince Chen nodded: "Was there anything improper in how this matter was handled?"

"I meant to say that Your Highness acted admirably." Ming Jingzhou's expression was gentle. "Your Highness has shown great compassion toward the common people."

Prince ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‍Chen was momentarily stunned—was his father-in-law actually praising him?

After leaving the Ming Family, Prince Chen asked Jiuzhu in confusion, "Little Pig, was Father praising me?"

"Was that praise?" Jiuzhu blinked in bewilderment. "Father was just stating the truth."

Prince Chen fell silent.

He had forgotten—Ming Jiuzhu was the one who praised him most lavishly.

"Those in positions of power who lack compassion for the common people may bring ruin upon them," Jiuzhu leaned against Prince Chen’s shoulder. "Take the late emperor, for example, or those aristocratic families who exploit the people. If they had even half of Your Highness’ kindness, so many innocent lives wouldn’t have suffered."

For the privileged, it might be mere amusement or momentary indulgence, but for ordinary people, it could mean a lifetime of hardship.

"Your Highness is different from them." Jiuzhu’s voice carried an innocence untouched by the world yet piercingly perceptive. "There’s light in your eyes."

"Ah, yes, I must have hidden a candle in them." Prince Chen chuckled, pinching Jiuzhu’s hand. "That’s why our Little Pig finds me so special."

"Your Highness," Jiuzhu huffed lightly, "I was just telling the truth."

Prince Chen laughed and pulled her into his embrace. "Alright."

In truth, it was her eyes that held the light—bright and shimmering. A mere glance from her could illuminate even the darkest corners of his heart.

Prince Huai stood behind the Vermilion Bird Gate in the outer palace, watching the carriage bearing Prince Chen’s insignia return to the palace. A sour feeling rose in his chest. Whenever he wanted to leave the palace, he had to wait for their father to be in a good mood. Yet his fifth brother came and went as freely as if he were strolling through the market.

When it came to favoritism, their father truly excelled.

"Never mind," he muttered under his breath and turned to leave.

On his way back, he ran into Yun Yanze. Since the New Year’s Eve banquet, Yun Yanze had grown noticeably thinner, and his gaze had taken on a chilling edge. Prince Huai had little patience for speaking with him.

"Eldest Brother." Yun Yanze stopped him with a bow.

"There’s no one else here. No need for pretenses between brothers." Prince Huai scoffed. "If you have something to say, out with it."

Yun Yanze lowered his eyelids. "I don’t understand what Eldest Brother means."

"If you don’t understand, then so be it." Prince Huai stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Fifteen years ago, I saw the hand that pushed our fifth brother off the rockery."

Yun Yanze lifted his gaze briefly but said nothing.

"A child who dared lay hands on his own blood brother—no matter what such a person says, I won’t believe a single word." Prince Huai flicked his sleeve. "Farewell."

"And how are you any better, Eldest Brother?" Yun Yanze countered calmly. "You saw it happen, yet you didn’t lift a finger to help him."

The only one who had tried to reach for Yun Duqing was their dim-witted second brother—unfortunately, he had been a second too slow.

Luckily, Yun Duqing had been fortunate. Despite falling headfirst, he escaped with only a bruised elbow.

From that day on, Yun Duqing had distanced himself from all of them. Back then, their father had yet to ascend the throne, and they were all confined to the princely residence. Yun Duqing, being young and unaware, never realized it had been deliberate.

If it happened now—whether by accident or intent—Yun Duqing would undoubtedly hold all of them accountable.

"Rumors are spreading that Father intends to name Yun Duqing as crown prince," Yun Yanze continued, seeing Prince Huai’s silence. "As the eldest son, are you truly content to bow beneath him?"

Prince Huai studied him for a long moment before letting out a mocking laugh. "As if we dare oppose him even now, when he isn’t yet crown prince."

"After all these years, haven’t you gotten used to it?" Prince Huai clicked his tongue. "Even when you were still Prince Qi, I never saw you dare to challenge him openly."

Yun Yanze’s eyelids twitched, and it took him a while to regain his composure.

"You, a prince who couldn’t even keep his title, trying to sow discord?" Prince Huai smirked disdainfully and strode away.

Yun Yanze watched his retreating figure with a murderous glint in his eyes.

Returning to his quarters, Prince Huai was informed by a eunuch that his mother, Consort Xu, had taken a turn for the worse. He sighed heavily and collapsed onto his bed.

"Summon the imperial physician. Inform them I’ve caught a chill and am too ill to rise."

Whether it was his brothers or his own mother, none of them saw him as anything more than a pawn in their ambitions.

He, Yun Liu’an, was a man of flesh and blood, with thoughts and feelings of his own.

Consort Xu waited in vain for her son’s arrival, only to receive news of his sudden illness. Furious, she nearly succumbed to a real bout of heart palpitations.

That useless son of hers wasn’t sick—he was avoiding her, feigning illness to dodge accusations of filial neglect.

How had she given birth to such a worthless creature?

"Eldest Brother is ill?" Jiuzhu asked the next morning upon hearing the news.

"Princess Consort, this servant has prepared gifts. Shall we send them now?" Yang Yiduo, the chief steward of Kirin Palace personally selected by Emperor Longfeng and Empress Su, was well-versed in handling such matters.

"It’s been a while since I last saw Sister-in-Law. I’ll pay her a visit." After finishing her morning routine, Jiuzhu headed straight for Zhangliu Palace.

Turning to Yang Yiduo, she added, "His Highness has been busy lately. Instruct the kitchen to prepare more nourishing soups for him."

Prince Chen had left early that morning—who knew when he’d return?

"Understood, this servant will see to it."

Teahouse.

In a hidden chamber separated by a single wall, Prince Chen listened as Ming Jisi, Ming Zhenyu, and their rather unsightly "benefactor" conversed.

"When I arranged for your journey to the Capital City, it was to fulfill an old bond of fate. But misfortune has struck my household—our lands and properties sold, our expenses exceeding income." The pockmarked benefactor sighed dramatically, his appearance growing even more unappealing.

His gaze lingered on the bracelet adorning Ming Zhenyu’s wrist—one provided by the Imperial Guards before her departure.

Ming Zhenyu hesitated, but under his pointed stare, she reluctantly removed it. "This was a gift from you. Take it back for now."

"How could I?" His hand darted out, tucking the bracelet into his sleeve. Then his eyes drifted upward, settling on the gold hairpin in her hair. "The craftsmanship is mediocre, but it seems pure gold?"

Ming Zhenyu stiffened. That pin had been a parting gift from Madam Ming.

When those men first found her, they’d claimed her rescuer was a man of high status and noble bearing. The journey had been comfortable, their manners impeccable. Yet the moment they entered the Capital City, even her hairpin wasn’t safe?

What kind of nobleman was this?

"Such gratitude is rare indeed. The chief examiner this year happens to be an old acquaintance. If he learns of your virtue, he may look favorably upon you." The benefactor covered his face in feigned shame. "Once I recover from these hardships, I’ll ensure you and your brother want for nothing."

"You are my sister's benefactor. How could we trouble you to take care of us?" Ming Jisi reached out and removed the golden hairpin from his sister's hair, placing it before the benefactor. "For the kindness of saving a life, we repay with a spring of gratitude. May you overcome your difficulties soon."

Ming Zhenyu stared at her brother in disbelief—this was her hairpin, and he had plucked it so casually?

"Since you are so sincere, I shall reluctantly accept it." The benefactor did not refuse and promptly tucked the hairpin away.

Ming Jisi frowned slightly. "Reluctantly" didn’t seem the right word for this situation.

You’re the one taking the hairpin—how dare you act like you’re doing us a favor.

"The courtyard I arranged for you—please make yourselves at home." After pocketing the hairpin, the benefactor wore a troubled expression but asked for nothing more. "Recently, many scholars have come to the Capital City for the imperial examinations, and the better residences have already been rented out. Since you two are new here and unfamiliar with the city, staying there will give me peace of mind."

"Benefactor, you’ve already sold your house and land. Why keep that courtyard?"

"The imperial exams are important. Though I am down on my luck, I am a man of my word." The benefactor straightened his expression. "If I promised you the courtyard, I will not take it back."

Hearing this, the siblings' doubts gradually faded.

Renting such a courtyard in the Capital City was no easy feat—it seemed this man was no fraud.

In the neighboring room, Prince Chen tapped the table lightly with his finger.

Judging by the siblings' reactions, they didn’t seem to be acting under someone else’s orders to deliberately approach him.

They simply wanted to take advantage—their greed was too shallow. If they were hired for a job, they’d be docked pay for such obvious avarice.

How audacious.

Tomorrow, he’d bring Jiuzhu along to enjoy the spectacle.