A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City-Chapter 67

"You need not speak further—this prince knows what is in your hearts." Prince Chen lifted his chin slightly. "Return home, study your books, practice your calligraphy, and devote yourselves to proper work that benefits the people. Understood?"

The royal scions nodded blankly. They had heard the words, but the meaning eluded them.

Study books and practice calligraphy? Do proper work? Since when did Prince Chen speak like this?

Or was His Highness hinting at something deeper?

Though they were wastrels, they were still scions of the imperial family—their blood inherently flowed with suspicion. After exchanging glances, they bowed thoughtfully to Prince Chen. "Thank you for your guidance, Your Highness. We understand."

"If you understand, then stay home instead of idling in the streets." Prince Chen paused, then added, "If you're truly bored, visit Hongwen Academy. Donate a few books, or even plant some vegetables if you wish."

Hongwen Academy?

The royal scions suddenly grasped his meaning. After this year’s fifth month, Hongwen Academy would officially begin admitting students. Though they were unqualified to study there, they could still show their support for the Emperor’s initiative by donating books or provisions.

"Your Highness?" Jiuzhu watched as the scions hurried away, their expressions strangely enlightened. She turned to Prince Chen in confusion. "They seem... affected by your words."

"Do you know the one flaw shared by all of imperial blood?"

"What flaw?"

"Suspicion—and an innate talent for reading hidden meanings." Prince Chen smiled. "When you stand above them, they dissect every word you speak, every gesture you make, striving to please you in hopes of securing their own safety."

"But what if the words were just ordinary, with no deeper meaning?"

"They dare not take that risk." Prince Chen’s tone was indifferent. "Because they never know which words are true and which are false."

Jiuzhu fell silent for a long moment before sighing. "That sounds exhausting."

"Don’t worry." Prince Chen stopped walking and looked at her. "I won’t let you live like that."

Jiuzhu blinked, then smiled brightly. "Mm!"

His Highness’s words always came true—so she never doubted him.

Seeing the absolute trust in her eyes, Prince Chen chuckled. He glanced toward the heavily guarded palace gates. "Go back now. No need to see me off further."

Jiuzhu stopped. "Your Highness, tomorrow is Her Majesty’s coronation ceremony. My mother said you and Her Majesty will be very busy, so I shouldn’t seek you out."

"Her Majesty is the most exalted woman in the world, possessing all the riches under heaven." Jiuzhu pulled a small peachwood carving from her sleeve. "This is carved from peachwood. Please give it to Her Majesty on my behalf."

"Very well." Prince Chen tucked the carving into his robes. "During the Lantern Festival in the capital, the streets are lively with displays. You should ask your brother to take you."

Jiuzhu nodded, then looked up. "Will you be there?"

Prince Chen shook his head. "Tomorrow is my mother’s coronation. I won’t be able to leave the palace at night."

"Oh." Her eyes dimmed briefly before she smiled again. "It’s all right. Next year, we’ll go together."

Prince Chen laughed, swinging onto his horse. "Yes. Every year after, I’ll take you to see the lanterns."

After parting with Jiuzhu, Prince Chen returned to the palace and went straight to Bright Moon Palace. He handed the peachwood charm to Consort Su. "Mother, Jiuzhu asked me to give this to you in advance."

Consort Su examined it—a small gourd-shaped ornament, its surface adorned with auspicious clouds and the characters "Yaoxi" carved at the base.

Yaoxi—eternal radiance.

"I’ve heard that in Lingzhou, people believe those touched by light are blessed with fortune and health," Xiangjuan remarked. "The young lady has given Your Majesty the finest blessing."

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"Did she carve this peachwood gourd herself?" Consort Su traced the curves of the carving, her expression softening.

"I ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‍didn’t ask." Prince Chen craned his neck to see, only for Consort Su to push him away.

"Then don’t look." She waved him off dismissively. "You understand nothing. Go away."

"I may not have asked, but I can guess." Prince Chen poured himself tea and sat down. "Peachwood is favored by Daoists, not ordinary households. Since Ming Jiuzhu was raised in a Daoist temple, who else would have carved this for you?"

"True." Consort Su tied a red string around the gourd. "I have a peachwood charm carved by Jiuzhu. Do you?"

Prince Chen’s smile froze. His fingers brushed the sachet at his waist—the one containing the protective charm Jiuzhu had given him—before he recovered. "Of course I wouldn’t compete with you. She’s your future daughter-in-law. It’s only right she makes things for you."

"Xiangjuan." Consort Su ignored him, turning to her maid. "Do you smell something spoiled? It’s terribly sour in here."

Prince Chen stood silently, strode to the doorway, then called back, "You’re imagining things, Mother. I have the protective charm she gave me."

With that, he bolted, as if afraid Consort Su might snatch it from him.

Watching his retreating figure, Consort Su chuckled. She gazed at the gourd in her palm, stroking its plump shape.

"Your Majesty, shall I place it in a box for safekeeping?"

"No." Consort Su smiled. "Tomorrow, I shall wear it."

Emperor Longfeng’s decision to enthrone Consort Su as Empress unsettled not the civil and military officials, but the aristocrats from powerful families.

"First, His Majesty establishes Hongwen Academy to recruit scholars of humble origins. Now, he elevates the lowborn Consort Su to Empress. What is his intention?"

"Does His Majesty no longer tolerate the great families?"

"Must you overthink this? None of the imperial consorts were from noble houses either," one man drawled, sipping wine. "For years, His Majesty has promoted talent, regardless of background. Why fixate on Consort Su? The harem is but a handful of women. As men, can we blame him for favoring the one he loves?"

"I suspect you’re a spy planted among us by the Emperor," another aristocrat grumbled. "We’re discussing matters of state, not romantic trifles."

"But the enthronement of Consort Su is a romantic trifle. None of you opposed it during the New Year’s banquet—what use is complaining now?" The wine-drinking lord set down his cup and rose lazily. "Gentlemen, it is the fourteenth year of Longfeng’s reign. The era where nobles shared power with the throne ended centuries ago. Let it rest."

"Du Qingke, you are a disgrace to the aristocracy!"

Du Qingke replied leisurely, "We were having a proper discussion—why resort to insults? If you truly wish to prevent His Majesty from favoring those of humble origins, you should address the problem at its root."

"How do we do that?"

"The enshrinement of Consort Su as Empress is already set in stone. There’s no point dwelling on it." Du Qingke raised an eyebrow with a faint smile. "However, Hongwen Academy hasn’t begun enrollment yet. If something were to happen—say, a conflict between a common-born scholar and a member of the imperial family—and the situation escalates, the establishment of the academy could be delayed."

"Pruning branches won’t kill the tree," Du Qingke shook his head. "You must sever it at the root. Understand?"

With that, he flicked his sleeves and sauntered away, his steps unhurried.

Being around these fools who dreamed of restoring their noble families' glory often gave him a sense of intellectual superiority.

With minds like these, they worried about His Majesty suppressing the noble houses?

Did His Majesty even need to waste his energy on such idiots?

Truly, an old cat looking in the mirror, thinking itself a tiger.

The Lantern Festival in the fourteenth year of Longfeng’s reign was celebrated with unprecedented grandeur. Before dawn, the city was already adorned with colorful lanterns, and some shops even displayed phoenix-shaped lanterns at their entrances in honor of the Empress’s coronation ceremony.

The common folk didn’t know much about Consort Su, but since His Majesty was so virtuous, the woman he chose as Empress must surely be worthy. Moreover, she was the birth mother of the formidable Prince Chen—how could she possibly be anything less?

Most importantly, this was an occasion for nationwide celebration. Merchants seized the opportunity to promote their wares and attract good fortune—why wouldn’t they join in?

To the ordinary people, as long as His Majesty ensured their lives remained peaceful and prosperous, he could even enshrine a peach tree as Empress, and they would weave a fantastical love story around it—finding ways to profit from the tale.

While the commoners reveled in the festivities, the imperial relatives, court officials, and noble ladies dressed in their formal attire at daybreak and hurried to the Golden Success Hall for the first Empress coronation ceremony of the Longfeng era.

By convention, Consort Su’s elevation from imperial consort to Empress should not have matched the prestige of an Empress who entered through the Vermilion Bird Gate. Yet, His Majesty bestowed upon her all the honors befitting a legitimate Empress.

From the phoenix carriage to the ceremonial robes and rituals, everything adhered to the highest standards of an imperial coronation.

This was also the first time Jiuzhu witnessed the magnificence of royal ceremonies.

The vast plaza before the Golden Success Hall was filled with officials and nobles, standing in solemn rows—men to the left, women to the right—so numerous that the end of the procession was lost to sight.

A red carpet stretched beneath their feet, strewn with fresh petals. Jiuzhu stood at the forefront of the county princesses’ line, watching as Her Majesty, supported by Prince Chen, walked slowly down the flower-strewn path.

As she passed by, the Empress paused slightly, turning to give Jiuzhu a gentle smile.

Under the gaze of countless onlookers, everyone witnessed this moment.

Just how highly did Empress Su regard the Ming family’s future daughter-in-law, that even during her own coronation, she made sure to elevate Jiuzhu’s standing?

Sun Caiyao stood at the very end of the imperial consorts’ line. Staring at Ming Jiuzhu in her goose-yellow county princess gown, she absentmindedly caught a drifting petal, lost in thought.

None of her dreams had come true—except for the unusually close bond between Ming Jiuzhu and Consort Su.

On the ceremonial platform, the master of rites recited an essay penned by His Majesty himself, praising Consort Su—each line brimming with a man’s devotion to the woman he cherished.

"All hail Her Majesty the Empress! May the Phoenix soar for a thousand years!"

Jiuzhu knelt with the others, performing the three bows and nine prostrations. Spotting a lovely fallen flower before her, she tucked it into her embroidered pouch.

Such a beautiful blossom—it would be a shame to let it be trampled underfoot.

As the ceremony concluded and Jiuzhu took her leave, she was immediately surrounded by noblewomen praising her hairstyle, her gown, even the embroidery on her handkerchief.

"These… were all prepared by the Palace Administration. If you admire them, you may request the designs from them." They were just standard ceremonial robes—what was so special about them?

The flattering crowd fell silent.

What was wrong with the future Princess Consort of Chen? Didn’t she realize this was just the usual way people ingratiated themselves?