Chapter 94: The Eastern Palace Secures Its Position

Proofreader : Mim

 

When asked this question by her own husband, the current Crown Prince, it was inevitable that Chu Jinyao felt extremely embarrassed. She tried to brush it off vaguely, saying, “There’s nothing worth mentioning. Let’s move on to the next topic…”

 

“I don’t think so,” Qin Yi replied with a smile, fixing his gaze on her. “I really want to know.”

 

Feeling cornered by his persistence, Chu Jinyao glared at Qin Yi, her annoyance showing. Qin Yi, the type who never knew when to stop, always pushed until people were truly irritated. Only after getting a few glares did he decide to change the subject.

 

Suppressing his laughter, Qin Yi cooperatively asked, “So, what’s the next matter?”

 

With Qin Yi’s interruption, Chu Jinyao forgot her original point and had to think for a moment before continuing, “The main thing is that the flames were so unusual that it left a deep impression. I couldn’t forget it after seeing it once. That’s what helped me identify the source of the fire during the dancer’s performance. But I still didn’t understand how such a flammable substance could ignite on its own. It wasn’t until you brought the confession from the Jin Yi Wei that I figured it out when we opened the dress and found out it was seashell powder.”

 

“What’s the logic behind that?” Qin Yi asked.

 

“Your Highness, you’re so astute in handling court affairs, but I didn’t expect there were things you didn’t know.” Chu Jinyao laughed, her eyes shining like stars. “Seashell powder actually has many uses. It’s made by burning seashells into ash and can be added to face wash to whiten the skin. However, it heats up upon contact with water, which can lead to burns. For this reason, women eventually started using it less. Still, the recipe is passed down, and since women love beauty, it’s not surprising they’d know about it.”

 

Chu Jinyao had claimed in Qianqing Palace that she didn’t know about it, leading the imperial physician to reveal the secret of seashell powder heating upon contact with water. But in fact, she was quite familiar with this beauty recipe. Chu Jinyao, being particular about her appearance, often collected these remedies, and since the Empress was also fond of dressing up, Chu Jinyao had assumed the Empress would know of it too. And as it turned out, she did.

 

Qin Yi was genuinely surprised; he had never expected the reason to be so simple. He and his advisors had puzzled over why the flames had ignited, but they hadn’t thought that seashell powder, used for beauty, could be involved. Even someone knowledgeable about alchemy might not have connected the dots because beauty products like this were not in a man’s sphere of concern.

 

The two tricks—the strange fire particles and the seashell powder—complemented each other perfectly, creating a natural trap. But it was only because Chu Jinyao knew both things that the case was solved so easily, as if guided by divine intervention. Watching the sparkle in her eyes, Qin Yi felt a surge of emotion. When he snapped out of it, he deliberately teased, “Looks like it’s a good thing; girls can be a little mischievous. Maybe we should raise our daughter the same way.”

 

“Your Highness!” Chu Jinyao called out in embarrassment, her face flushing. Hearing Qin Yi say “our daughter” made her heart flutter and filled her with an incredible softness. Silently, her hand moved to her belly. When would a small life take root here, a child belonging to her and Qin Yi?

 

Qin Yi understood her inner worry. In truth, he wasn’t in a hurry—they were both still young, after all. But he also knew that Chu Jinyao’s situation was different. As the Crown Princess, she bore much more pressure. Qin Yi grasped her hand and reassured her, “There’s no rush. We have plenty of time. Don’t stress yourself.”

 

“Mm,” Chu Jinyao nodded. Bringing up this topic cast a bit of a shadow over her mood, so she quickly changed the subject to keep things light. “Your Highness, didn’t I accomplish something significant this time?”

 

“Of course,” Qin Yi laughed. “The Crown Princess is formidable. When you act, it’s more effective than an entire team of advisors in the Eastern Palace.”

 

Qin Yi had no qualms about throwing his subordinates under the bus in front of his wife, even going so far as to belittle them. Chu Jinyao, feeling both embarrassed and pleased, replied, “I’m not comparable to the advisors in the Eastern Palace. Oh, by the way, you owe me a hairpin. You need to replace it for me!”

 

Qin Yi was amused, laughing heartily. “Alright, whatever you say. I’ll have them craft a whole new set for you.”

 

After the incident with Wang Mingci, the Empress Xiao Qi was forced to behave, and the other members of the palace, sensing the shift in power, became as quiet as quail. However, the situation wasn’t over. The day after the ritual concluded, Qin Yi resumed attending court, and those who had been fervently impeaching him previously now dared not even meet his eyes.

 

Qin Yi was known for holding grudges. Now that his name had been cleared and he was back in court, it was unlikely he would let those people off easily. The atmosphere in the morning assembly was tense, but Qin Yi stood at the forefront, calm and composed. Midway through the assembly, he stepped forward and addressed the Emperor: “Your son has something to report.”

 

The Emperor, feeling a bit guilty over the unresolved issue with the Empress Xiao Qi, had been relieved when Qin Yi refrained from pursuing it. He was sympathetic towards Qin Yi, recognizing that the Crown Prince had been wronged. The Emperor’s affection for the Empress Xiao Qi had always made him lenient, and Qin Yi’s restraint had only added to his sense of guilt.

 

So when Qin Yi requested to speak during the morning assembly, the Emperor allowed it.

 

“A few days ago, while I was unable to attend court, I heard from the scholars that some ministers had proposed leaving an additional prince in the capital.”

 

At this, murmurs broke out among the officials. Those at the front, the older and more experienced ministers, remained composed, but the younger ones further back exchanged surprised glances. This topic was a minefield underfoot, and most ministers had chosen to avoid it now that Qin Yi had been vindicated. Yet to their astonishment, Qin Yi had brought it up himself.

 

Even the Emperor was surprised. Qin Yi, with a calm expression, continued speaking: “I think this suggestion is quite good. Currently, only two princes reside in the capital. Once my second and third brothers are sent to their territories, should any crisis arise in the capital, it would take too long to call them back. Thus, leaving another prince in the capital to safeguard the dynasty’s stability seems prudent.”

 

Even the senior cabinet ministers were now paying close attention, quickly assessing Qin Yi’s intentions. He continued, “In my opinion, my second brother, Prince Su, is humble and courteous, respectful of the wise and virtuous. He would be the perfect candidate to remain. However, my third brother, Prince Lu, is the son of the Empress and more suitable by law. Both of my brothers have their merits, and I dare not decide on my own. I ask the Emperor and the ministers to deliberate.”

 

At this point, Prince Su couldn’t remain silent any longer. He quickly stepped forward to decline, and with his marriage to the daughter of the Prince Wei’s family, his in-laws also felt compelled to speak. Soon, the Marquis of Zhenbei, representing Prince Lu’s side, also made a statement.

 

Qin Yi remained steadfast in his stance, while the ministers, seeing the direction things were headed, pleaded and reasoned for the princes to be sent to their territories as planned. Even the older officials joined in, kneeling and weeping as they begged for adherence to protocol. Caught in this storm, Prince Su could only grit his teeth and stand before the Emperor, stating, “Your Majesty, I am humbled by the Crown Prince’s generosity. As the rightful heir and a paragon of virtue, the Crown Prince is my role model. I dare not violate the ancestral rites by staying behind and disrupting the law. Therefore, I humbly request your approval to proceed to my territory in Qingyang after my wedding.”

 

Prince Lu, being too young to attend court, was absent from the proceedings. But Prince Su’s statement made it clear that any remaining objections were moot. The hall fell silent for a moment, before erupting in praise for Prince Su’s humility and adherence to tradition.

 

Qin Yi, now satisfied, graciously “reconsidered” his proposal, withdrawing it in deference to popular opinion. Those who had previously advocated keeping another prince in the capital were left embarrassed, and even the unaligned officials felt the sting of having been outmaneuvered. The Emperor, still feeling guilty over his leniency toward the Empress Xiao Qi, remained silent throughout the proceedings. Only after the ministers had spoken did he step in to finalize matters: “The Crown Prince, being the eldest and most qualified, is correct in upholding the law. Henceforth, this matter need not be raised again. Since Prince Su wishes to depart for Qingyang after his wedding, let the Ministry of Rites make the necessary arrangements.”

 

The Emperor’s words sealed the deal. Prince Su’s departure was now certain, and though no mention was made of Prince Lu, his departure would soon follow once his marriage was settled.

 

Thus, the saga of the mysterious fire in the western palace came to a close, ending a scandal that had nearly toppled the Crown Prince. The waves of impeachment and doubt had built into a storm, only to be met with a swift and decisive counterattack from the Eastern Palace. Those who had acted in the name of justice found themselves humiliated, while Prince Su was forced to request exile, and Prince Lu was similarly subdued. Even the seasoned ministers of the cabinet had to admit that the Crown Prince had proven himself not only capable but formidable. The storm had revealed Qin Yi as the undisputed future ruler.

 

This shift in the political landscape was most evident to Chu Jinyao. While people had always shown her respect as the Crown Princess, this was previously rooted in protocol. But now, no matter where she went, be it in the palace or outside, from the wives of high-ranking officials to the lowest maidservants, everyone treated her with a newfound reverence—tinged with flattery. After all, Qin Yi’s status was now undeniable, and Chu Jinyao, as his only wife, was increasingly seen as the future Empress.

 

As the Eastern Palace basked in its newfound glory, other places grew somber. Prince Su, humiliated by the failed attempt to stay in the capital, could only manage a subdued wedding for Zhao Lanhui. While the royal wedding was still a grand event, it paled in comparison to Chu Jinyao’s marriage just six months earlier. Yet, Zhao Lanhui barely had time to process the difference before she had to prepare for the journey to Qingyang—a place thousands of miles away from the capital, from which she might never return.

 

Zhao Lanhui, having grown up as a proud daughter of the princess and backed by the powerful Prince Wei, found herself entirely overshadowed. Her pride and confidence shattered, her mental state began to crumble.

 

Meanwhile, the Emperor, despite being bound by duty, couldn’t easily let go of his son. After all, Prince Su had been raised in front of him for eighteen years, and the thought of sending him away, perhaps never to see him again, was heart-wrenching. Yet, the Emperor had made a promise, and there was no going back on it. As a compromise, he decided to spend more time with Prince Su by taking him to the summer palace for a couple of months before his departure.

 

With the Emperor’s word, a grand entourage prepared to move to the summer palace. The entire imperial court, as well as Chu Jinyao, were swept up in the move. The rules and formality of the palace lightened somewhat in the summer palace, and for a brief moment, everyone, from the Emperor down to his attendants, could breathe a little easier.

 

Upon arriving, Chu Jinyao, having been shaken and jolted in the carriage for hours, was sore all over. As the Crown Princess, her palanquin was the most comfortable, yet even she found the journey exhausting. The others had fared even worse, and many silently wished they could collapse onto their beds. Unfortunately, while the Emperor and Empress Xiao Qi could rest, the others still had duties to fulfill. Chu Jinyao, after getting off the carriage, accompanied Qin Yi to the Emperor and Empress Xiao Qi’s quarters to fulfill her obligations before finally returning to her own chambers.

 

While paying respects, Chu Jinyao encountered Prince Su and his wife. The Emperor and Empress Xiao Qi were both exhausted, so after a few words, they allowed the younger generation to leave. As they exited the palace together, Prince Su politely greeted Qin Yi and Chu Jinyao, saying, “Elder brother, elder sister-in-law.”

 

Since Prince Su had taken the initiative, Zhao Lanhui was forced to follow suit, though her address—“Your Highness, Crown Princess”—was noticeably more formal, indicating a certain distance. Despite Zhao Lanhui’s unease, Chu Jinyao remained composed. “Prince Su and Princess Consort Su,” she acknowledged.

 

After some brief pleasantries, Prince Su suggested to Qin Yi, “Elder brother, it’s still early today. Would you like to visit the hunting grounds? I’ve heard that new game was delivered today.”

 

The summer palace’s hunting grounds were always a major draw for men, and Qin Yi was no exception. While Chu Jinyao looked worn out from the journey, Qin Yi was in high spirits. Unlike the Emperor, he didn’t need to rest. With the sun still in the sky, he was eager to hunt. For any man, the thrill of the first hunt of the season was irresistible, and only the princes dared take the first shot before the Emperor.

 

Qin Yi was tempted. “I was just thinking the same thing. But first, I should see to the ladies.”

 

Prince Su was clearly surprised. “There are guards all around the summer palace, and no trouble is likely. Surely it’s enough to leave some attendants with them?”

 

Even Chu Jinyao tried to reassure him. “Your Highness, you should go to the hunting grounds. I can take care of myself.”

 

“That won’t do,” Qin Yi immediately rejected the idea. He turned to Prince Su and said, “You go ahead. I’ll join you shortly.”

 

Seeing Qin Yi’s insistence, Prince Su glanced at the large retinue of servants behind Chu Jinyao and found it excessive. Wasn’t she safe enough already? Still, it wasn’t his place to argue. Smiling, he said, “As you wish, elder brother. I’ll wait for you at the hunting grounds.”

 

Zhao Lanhui watched as Qin Yi and Chu Jinyao walked off together, while Prince Su headed to the hunting grounds without so much as a backward glance. Zhao Lanhui sighed heavily, torn between her own frustrations and the reality of her situation.

 

Halfway to her quarters, Zhao Lanhui encountered Qi Rong and, not wanting to return to her cold, lonely palace, invited Qi Rong to accompany her. Sitting in her chambers, Zhao Lanhui vented to Qi Rong, saying, “When I used to visit the palace with my mother, I admired the grandeur and authority of the royal family. But now, as a member of the royal household, I see how difficult it is to be a daughter-in-law here—especially a royal daughter-in-law.”

 

As the wife of Prince Su, who was soon to be sent to a far-off territory under less than ideal circumstances, Zhao Lanhui felt deeply humiliated. Her status outside the palace was awkward, but even within her own home, she found no peace.

 

Prince Su, though his birth mother had passed early and he had since been adopted by Noble Consort Shu, had endured many hardships due to his lowly origins. Throughout his life, he had been accompanied by a loyal palace maid, who had supported him through the darkest days of his life. On the second day of his marriage to Zhao Lanhui, Prince Su had brought this maid before her and formally elevated her status. Not only that, but Noble Consort Shu had sent a few beauties to “assist” Zhao Lanhui in managing the household, though it was clear to everyone what their true purpose was. Zhao Lanhui had wanted to emulate Chu Jinyao, pretending to accept these women while quietly keeping them at a distance. But the moment Prince Su’s mother mentioned them, he had raised their status himself.

 

It was then that Zhao Lanhui realized Chu Jinyao had given her a false impression, making her believe that all women could enjoy the same freedoms. Even though Zhao Lanhui and Prince Su were still in the first month of their marriage, she already had to deal with multiple “sisters.” The bitterness in her heart was overwhelming, and seeing how newlywed Chu Jinyao and Qin Yi seemed, only added to her frustration.

 

Pouring out her grievances to her old friend, Zhao Lanhui lamented, “She really is fortunate. It’s been six months since their marriage, yet none of her maids have had their hair pinned up. The Crown Prince actually allows this! And it’s a good thing the Empress Xiao Qi is so mild-mannered and, being the stepmother, doesn’t want to interfere. Otherwise, even in an ordinary noble family, no one would tolerate such a jealous wife.”

 

Qi Rong’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you saying that since their wedding last year, the Crown Prince has had no one but her?”

 

Zhao Lanhui nodded slightly, and Qi Rong’s shock only deepened. Inside, a bitter seed of jealousy began to grow uncontrollably.

 

After all, she had known the Crown Prince far longer than Chu Jinyao, as they were cousins. If only she had moved a little faster in securing her aunt’s favor, perhaps she would have been the one to become the Crown Princess! Hearing this new information was like a sharp blade piercing Qi Rong’s heart, leaving her with a deep, bleeding wound.

 

Why was it Chu Jinyao? Qi Rong couldn’t accept it.

 

—

 

Author’s Note: In reality, the Ming Dynasty didn’t have summer palaces for the emperor to escape to, and even frequent visits outside the capital for sacrificial ceremonies would attract the ire of court officials. So, technically speaking… this is all a bit of creative license. But the palace is too big for the next plot point, so I had to change the setting!