A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City-Chapter 78

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"Stand up if you have something to say. What’s the meaning of kneeling like this?"

The Great Cheng was a land of propriety, yet even between ruler and subject, kneeling was not a constant practice. Moreover, Emperor Longfeng was not one for excessive ceremony, making occasions requiring such gestures even rarer.

"You… beat up your brother?" Emperor Longfeng thought to himself—his son was usually well-behaved, so he must have done something mischievous.

"Father, am I the kind of person who disrespects his elders?" Prince Chen quickly defended himself. "Your son hasn’t done anything wrong lately. The reason I’m kneeling here to beg you is because I want something to do."

"What ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍is it?" Emperor Longfeng eyed him skeptically. "You truly haven’t caused trouble?"

"I’m a married man now—what trouble could I possibly stir up?" Prince Chen shifted his knees slightly. "Father, what do you think of Ming Jiuzhu?"

"She’s pure-hearted, sincere, and comes from a respectable family." More importantly, she stubbornly believed he was the finest man in the world—something even he, as a father, couldn’t bring himself to say aloud. "The Ming family is loyal through and through. To have such a princess consort is your good fortune."

"Your words prove that father and son are of one mind, sharing the same thoughts." Prince Chen picked up the kneeling cushion, walked over to Emperor Longfeng, tossed it down, and knelt again, wrapping his arms around the emperor’s leg. "Since you’re so pleased with your daughter-in-law, won’t you make an exception and let me take her back to the Ming family the day after tomorrow?"

Looking down at his son clinging to his leg like a spoiled child, Emperor Longfeng was suddenly reminded of the day he ascended the throne, when Du Qing had similarly pestered him to carry him on his back.

Among all the imperial princes and princesses, only this one still saw him as a father. The others looked at him as nothing more than the embodiment of imperial power.

"Your wife wants to go back?" Emperor Longfeng didn’t tell him to rise, simply settling onto the dragon throne and letting his son continue hugging his leg.

"What newlywed bride doesn’t miss her family? She’s simple-minded—even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t say it. But who am I? Your son! I’ve learned tenfold from you in caring for those close to me. Even if she doesn’t speak a word, I can tell." Prince Chen flashed him an ingratiating smile. "Earlier, I already boasted to her that I’d take her back. You can’t just stand by and watch your son lose face in front of his wife, can you?"

"No matter." Emperor Longfeng lazily took a sip of tea. "You live in Kirin Palace. If you embarrass yourself, I won’t have to see it."

"Father." Prince Chen tightened his grip on the emperor’s leg. "If you don’t agree, I’ll kneel here and never leave."

"People should really see how shamelessly you act." Emperor Longfeng chuckled in exasperation, lightly nudging him with his other foot. "Get up already. What kind of behavior is this?"

"So you agree?" Prince Chen didn’t let go.

"The rules of the imperial family cannot be bent—not even for you." Emperor Longfeng took a palace exit token from Liu Zhongbao and handed it to Prince Chen. "However, if you were to take your princess consort out for an excursion, happen to pass by the Ming residence, and coincidentally stay for lunch… no one would find fault with that."

"Thank you, Father!" Prince Chen accepted the token and sprang to his feet. "You are undoubtedly the greatest father in the world, and the wisest emperor."

"Spare me the flattery. Once you return, treat your wife well. Husband and wife are one. If she is sincere with you, you must not betray her." Emperor Longfeng pointed at the discarded cushion on the floor. "Take that thing with you too."

"Of course, Father." Prince Chen picked up the cushion. "You must be busy with state affairs, so I won’t disturb—"

"Wait." Emperor Longfeng raised a hand, and Liu Zhongbao placed a chair beside him.

"Look through these memorials and tell me how they should be handled." Seeing his son’s reluctant expression, the emperor chuckled. "It just occurred to me that you’re still under salary suspension. The Palace Administration mentioned you ordered quite a few spring and summer outfits, all made from the finest materials..."

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"Your son would be honored to share your burdens." Prince Chen swept his robes aside and sat down. "This is my privilege."

Ah, a man dependent on his father’s wealth must humble himself accordingly.

"Miss." Chunfen helped Jiuzhu bathe and change out of the palace robes that still carried the scent of hot pot. "The Palace Administration sent over a new set of jewelry, saying it was custom-made for you by Her Majesty the Empress. Would you like to try it on?"

In just two days, Kirin Palace’s private storeroom was nearly overflowing with gifts. Consorts, imperial princes and princesses, and royal relatives had all sent congratulatory presents.

Rare treasures flowed into Kirin Palace like an unending stream. This was also the first time Jiuzhu had witnessed firsthand just how highly Prince Chen was regarded in the inner palace.

"Her Majesty specially had this made for me?" Jiuzhu immediately perked up. "Bring it here quickly!"

Opening the jewelry box, she found an exquisitely crafted full set of hair ornaments. Understanding dawned on her. "Her Majesty prepared this in advance for my homecoming visit."

Chunfen was astonished. "The Empress guessed that His Highness would take you back?"

What surprised her even more was that the Empress, anticipating the prince’s actions, hadn’t objected but instead made all the arrangements for her mistress in advance.

The more prestigious the family, the stricter their adherence to rules. Yet the Empress, the most revered woman in Great Cheng, showed such thoughtfulness and leniency toward her daughter-in-law. How many mothers-in-law in the world could compare?

"Because Her Majesty and His Highness are both kind-hearted people." Jiuzhu traced the gemstones on the phoenix hairpin. "Kind souls understand each other’s intentions."

"This is wonderful." Chunfen smiled. "With the Empress and His Highness treating you so well, Master and Madam will surely feel much more at ease."

"Did Father and Mother worry about me marrying His Highness before?" Jiuzhu looked up at Chunfen in surprise. "They never mentioned it to me."

"No matter who their daughter marries, parents can never be completely free of worry." Chunfen tactfully avoided mentioning the rumors circulating about Prince Chen. "But if they see you living happily after marriage, they’ll gradually set their minds at rest."

"I understand." Jiuzhu nodded thoughtfully. "When we return home the day after tomorrow, I’ll know exactly what to do."

What exactly did her mistress understand?

Chunfen watched her with puzzlement, suspecting she might have misinterpreted something.

Three hours later, Chunfen glanced out the window. "Miss, it’s already dark. Who knows when His Highness will return? Should you have dinner first?"

"I’m not hungry yet." Jiuzhu shook her head. "Go ahead and eat. There’s no need to keep me company."

"Miss." Chunfen knew she wanted to wait for Prince Chen and sighed helplessly. "I had some meat broth earlier, so I’m not hungry either."

"Then go rest for a while." Jiuzhu smiled. "Let’s keep things the same as they were at home. There’s no need to attend to me every moment—I don’t stand on ceremony."

"This servant will fetch you a bowl of silver ear soup from the kitchen first." As Chunfen turned to leave, she felt someone brush past her like a gust of wind. She spun around and saw that it was Prince Chen who had rushed by.

"Little Pig Ming, I’m back." Prince Chen strode up to Jiuzhu but paused when he noticed her hair cascading loosely down her back, withdrawing the hand he’d been about to ruffle her head with. "You’ve bathed?"

"Mm." Jiuzhu nodded.

"Someone, attend to this prince's washing." After giving orders to the palace attendants, Prince Chen took out the palace exit token from his sleeve: "The day after tomorrow, we'll leave the palace to visit my in-laws."

His expression was relaxed, as if this token hadn't been obtained through a mix of kneeling, pleading, and reviewing a pile of memorials.

"Your Highness is truly remarkable." Ming Jiuzhu picked up the token and examined it, noticing the dragon-patterned insignia.

"A trivial matter. How could I fail to deliver on what I promised you?" Prince Chen washed his hands in the copper basin brought by a eunuch, then reached out to tousle her hair several times, wearing a satisfied smile.

"Have you had dinner yet?" He smoothed the disheveled strands before reluctantly withdrawing his hand. "His Majesty kept me at Taiyang Palace to handle some matters, so I returned late."

Originally, the Emperor had intended to keep him for dinner, but he worried Jiuzhu might foolishly wait for him to return, so he rushed back without delay.

"Not yet." Jiuzhu instructed the attendants to bring the evening meal. "Just in time to dine with Your Highness."

Prince Chen and Jiuzhu enjoyed their dinner in high spirits, while the officials who had stayed up late working and received the returned memorials noticed something amiss.

The handwriting on some of the memorials didn’t quite resemble the Emperor’s.

Why would His Majesty allow someone else to draft responses on his behalf?

As court officials, they couldn’t help but overthink. The Emperor was in good health, and the Imperial Guard Commander was fiercely loyal to him. Logically, no one would dare overstep His Majesty to review these memorials.

"Have none of you considered that His Majesty might have assigned a prince to handle these?" one official suggested. "The handwriting is bold and forceful, the content insightful—clearly the work of a talented individual."

"Minister Wang makes a fair point," another official nodded. "But which prince could it be?"

"Prince Huai is mature and steady, but I’ve seen his handwriting—it doesn’t match."

"Prince An is mild-mannered, but the comments here are direct and sharp, hardly his style."

"Could it be Prince Jing?"

Prince Jing was a man of few words, his looks passably refined but paling in comparison to the Fourth Prince and Prince Chen. He was so unremarkable that people rarely noticed him.

As for the Fourth Prince, no one even entertained the possibility. His Majesty had already stripped him of his title, reducing him to a mere "bald prince"—there was no way he’d be allowed near state memorials.

That left Prince Jing as the most likely candidate.

"Why hasn’t anyone considered Prince Chen?" a young official asked. "His Majesty dotes on him the most—it’s highly plausible he’d assign him this task."

"Impossible!" several officials exclaimed in unison. "Prince Chen is an idle wastrel—how could he produce such elegant handwriting?"

"Have you gentlemen ever seen Prince Chen’s calligraphy?" The young official clasped his hands apologetically. "Forgive my ignorance for raising such a laughable suggestion."

The senior officials fell silent.

Come to think of it, they’d never paid attention to Prince Chen’s handwriting.

But a prince notorious for infuriating his tutors surely… probably… couldn’t write this well, could he?

More importantly, Prince Chen was a hedonist with no scholarly pursuits—how could he possibly offer such astute policy recommendations?

"No, no," they shook their heads vehemently. "It absolutely cannot be him."

Believing that an indolent, arrogant prince could draft memorials this well was like expecting rain to turn red.

"Good evening, esteemed ministers." Li En, the Minister of Rites, entered the room and noticed the grave expressions of the night-shift officials. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"Minister Li." The officials handed him a memorial. "Prince Chen once served briefly in the Ministry of Rites. Does this handwriting resemble his?"

Li En glanced at it and nodded with a smile. "It is indeed Prince Chen’s handwriting."

Before he could finish, he saw the ministers turn deathly pale, as if struck by lightning.

"Gentlemen, are you unwell?"

"No, no, we’re fine."

They needed to stay calm. There had to be a reasonable explanation.

Perhaps the Emperor had dictated the responses, and Prince Chen had merely transcribed them.

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