A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City-Chapter 83

The troublemaking young noble in brown brocade was taken away by the Imperial Dragon Guards, while the royal scoundrels stepped forward to greet Jiuzhu with bows.

"Greetings, Princess Consort. You and His Highness are truly a match made in heaven, a perfect pair."

"Indeed! We’ve grown up with His Highness, yet this is the first time we’ve seen him help a lady down from a carriage."

Jiuzhu found these words oddly familiar—in the domineering prince romance stories, the steward beside the prince would often say things like, "This is the first time His Highness has brought a woman back to his manor."

She whispered to Prince Chen, "Your Highness, do your friends also enjoy listening to domineering prince tales?"

Prince Chen: "..."

"You’ve done well," Prince Chen said, patting Yun Qirong on the shoulder. "When we next see His Majesty, I’ll find an opportunity to commend your efforts."

"Many thanks, Your Highness." Yun Qirong and the other royal scoundrels hurriedly expressed their gratitude. "We merely followed Your Highness’s teachings. It’s nothing worth mentioning."

Usually, they spent their days idling about, causing mischief with no real purpose. But suddenly, a group of scholars had thanked them sincerely, looking at them with admiration—it wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

"Young masters are truly remarkable," Jiuzhu said, gazing at them with admiration. As expected of His Highness’s friends, doing so much good.

"Not at all, not at all. We merely follow His Highness’s example," Yun Qirong replied, well-versed in the art of praising the prince in front of his consort. "We used to behave quite disgracefully, but under His Highness’s guidance, we’ve mended our ways."

Your Highness, if the princess consort ever finds out about your past cricket and cockfighting habits, you’ll have an excuse now.

The other royal scoundrels didn’t immediately grasp why Yun Qirong said this, but seeing the satisfied smile on Prince Chen’s face, they quickly caught on and echoed his words, claiming that their newfound virtue was entirely thanks to His Highness’s patient counsel.

A proper royal scoundrel knew how to elevate their patron, ensuring mutual benefit for all.

"Since you’ve started doing good deeds, you might as well see them through," Prince Chen said, clasping his hands behind his back. "Visiting orphanages and relief shelters are excellent choices."

If they refused to study, they could at least engage in charity. Even if they amounted to nothing in the future, they’d still earn a measure of goodwill.

Turning, he noticed Jiuzhu looking at him with admiration and coughed awkwardly. "These fellows have been causing trouble with me since childhood. Don’t take their words too seriously."

"Your Highness need not explain. I understand," Jiuzhu nodded slightly. "You’re inherently kind, but you prefer to keep a low profile."

"I don’t like keeping a low profile," Prince Chen murmured, leaning close to her ear. "I like you."

"Your Highness!" Jiuzhu touched her burning ear and shot him a flustered glare.

"Your Highness, we should take our leave," Yun Qirong said, noticing the prince and princess consort whispering intimately. He tactfully led the others away.

Once the royal scoundrels had departed, Jiuzhu suddenly remembered something. "Didn’t you say that once your guards and attendants married, they handed their silver over to their wives? Why does Yun Qirong still carry so much?"

"An excellent question," Prince Chen said, holding her hand. "It’s because he doesn’t have a wife yet."

"Oh..." Jiuzhu nodded in understanding. "No wonder he didn’t even blink when giving away silver." Even she had felt a pang of sympathy for the loss.

Prince Chen’s expression turned complicated. Once, he too had spent money with such carefree abandon—until his father confined him to the palace...

He turned his head and spotted a familiar figure standing a few paces away. "Yu Jian? The young general?"

Yu Jian knew what Prince Chen really meant: Why is it you again?

"Your Highness," he stepped forward and bowed.

Prince ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‍Chen eyed his casual attire. "You’re not on duty with the Imperial Guards today?"

"Reporting to Your Highness, today is my day off." Yu Jian’s heart swelled with excitement. His Highness is concerned about my duties—could he be considering recruiting me into the Prince Chen Manor?

"Oh," Prince Chen replied, then turned and walked away with Jiuzhu.

Yu Jian stared at their retreating figures, utterly baffled. What exactly did His Highness mean by that "oh"?

If Prince Chen ordered someone to walk barefoot, he wouldn’t give them the chance to wear shoes.

A young noble in fine robes trudged barefoot through the streets in early spring, drawing countless stares from the common folk. To ensure his humiliation was complete, the guards supervising him recounted the entire incident to anyone who asked.

A tyrannical noble bullying a poor scholar, only for a righteous prince to descend like a divine intervention, rescuing the scholar and punishing the bully—wasn’t this the kind of poetic justice the people loved?

Within two hours, the story had spread throughout the capital.

At a certain gathering of scholars, the atmosphere was unusually tense.

For days, they had schemed to lure the royal scoundrels to the gates of Hongwen Academy, hoping to incite conflict. Yet the outcome had been the opposite of what they intended?

Their goal had been to stir animosity between impoverished scholars and the imperial clan—not to elevate Prince Chen and his band of scoundrels in the eyes of the literati!

"I can’t fathom why those wastrels suddenly decided to donate writing supplies to Hongwen Academy," one clan head muttered, glaring at the others. "Could this all have been an act orchestrated by Prince Chen and his followers?"

"Are you suggesting... there’s a traitor among us?" Another frowned. "We’ve been close confidants for years. Who among us would betray the rest?"

He trusted those present—but the sheer coincidence of events made him wonder if Prince Chen had divine assistance.

"Brother Du, what do you make of this?" He turned to Du Qingke, who had been silently sitting in a corner. "Does he truly have the gods on his side?"

"You arranged this affair. Why ask me?" Du Qingke scoffed, his long hair loose and his robes carelessly draped. "Perhaps he does have divine aid."

"Brother Du jests. If he truly had such help, he wouldn’t remain merely a prince." The clan head shook his head. "The emperor made Lady Su his empress but hasn’t named Prince Chen crown prince—clearly, he’s dissatisfied with him."

Before the Fourth Prince’s downfall, many officials had supported him, yet their memorials vanished without a ripple.

After Lady Su was named empress, some officials rushed to flatter her, petitioning for Prince Chen’s elevation to crown prince—but those memorials, too, sank without a trace.

Du Qingke smiled faintly. Emperor Longfeng’s reluctance wasn’t due to dissatisfaction with Prince Chen, but a ruler’s natural attachment to power—and his envy of a son in his prime.

The more power one held, the more one feared aging.

Such was human nature.

"Brother Du, after this incident, no scoundrel would dare cause trouble at Hongwen Academy. What else can we do?"

"What can we do?" Du Qingke sighed. "I’m just a useless man who indulges in wine and women. You’ll have to figure it out yourselves."

"Brother Du, Brother Du." Seeing him about to leave, the others quickly stopped him. "We agreed to brainstorm ideas together—how can you leave now?"

"If you all insist that Prince Chen has divine assistance, then why bother scheming against him?" Du Qingke flicked his sleeve. "Why not accept reality sooner and abandon your dreams of restoring noble families?"

"We were only jesting earlier, Brother Du. Don’t take it seriously." These declining aristocratic families, apart from the Du Family which still held some standing in the capital, were merely clinging to the illusion of prestige, with little real influence in court.

"Li En, the three Ming brothers, and over half of the Six Ministries officials—none of them come from prominent noble houses. Especially the Ming Family, whose triple first-place honors in the imperial examinations have stolen much of the Sun Family’s limelight."

Du Qingke chuckled. "The Sun Family is still a powerful noble house. Why don’t you try winning them over?"

"This…" The heads of the families exchanged uneasy glances, lacking any confidence in persuading the Sun Family.

The Sun Family had always held sway in court and even married a daughter into the imperial clan. It was unlikely they would join their cause.

"If even the Sun Family is beyond your reach, how do you expect to revive the aristocracy?" Du Qingke looked at them as if they were children telling jokes. "Gentlemen, take your time pondering. I’ll take my leave first."

"Du Qingke is too arrogant!"

"Bear with it. Without him, our noble families would be in an even worse position."

The others fell silent. But even with him, would their circumstances truly improve?

"I have another idea." One of the family heads, who suspected a traitor among them, suddenly brightened. "If we can’t act against Hongwen Academy, there are two other places no one would ever pay attention to."

"Where?"

"The orphanage and the relief shelter." The family head lowered his voice. "The orphanage is full of abandoned children, many with physical disabilities. If officials there were exposed for mistreating them, wouldn’t it stir public outrage?"

"That wouldn’t work." Another family head shook his head. "Since His Majesty ascended the throne, he allocates substantial funds annually to orphanages across the provinces. The supervisors are rotated every few years, and inspections are frequent—there’s no chance of mistreatment."

"Even if there isn’t, we can make it happen." He rubbed his fingers together meaningfully. "Money moves even ghosts to grind grain, doesn’t it?"

In the drowsy hours of the afternoon, Jiuzhu walked toward Bright Moon Palace, carrying small trinkets she had bought outside the palace.

The palace was vast and silent. Countless maids and eunuchs stepped aside to bow as she passed, their eyes filled with respect… and fear.

It reminded her of the maid who had once collapsed under a tree, beaten unconscious by her mistress. A few days ago, she had seen her again, now serving Sun Caiyao—likely living a better life.

"Princess Consort Chen." A group of women approached and curtsied.

"Consort Lü, Consort Wei." Jiuzhu recognized them and returned a junior’s greeting. They were the birth mothers of Prince An and Prince Jing. Consort Wei, though plain in appearance, seemed even more overshadowed beside Consort Lü.

"Are you also heading to Bright Moon Palace to pay respects to Her Majesty?" Consort Lü smiled, her resemblance to Prince An faintly visible. "If the Princess Consort doesn’t mind, we could walk together."

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"After you, honored consorts."

"We dare not." Consort Wei took a step back. "The Princess Consort must go first."

Prince Chen was the Empress’s son, and though not yet named Crown Prince, his status surpassed that of imperial concubines.

The princess consort shared her husband’s rank. If they dared walk ahead of Ming Jiuzhu, Bright Moon Palace would surely take offense.

"Let’s not stand on ceremony—we can walk side by side." Consort Lü fell into step with Jiuzhu. "Consort Wei has always been rigid in etiquette. The Princess Consort need not mind her."

Jiuzhu glanced at Consort Wei, who kept her head bowed and shoulders slightly hunched, deliberately remaining half a step behind. No wonder Prince Jing and Princess Consort Jing were both so reserved—they took after her.

Was this why Emperor Longfeng had bestowed the title "Jing" (Tranquil) upon the Third Prince?