The Crown Prince had always been a light drinker, which led him to believe he was immune to drunkenness. This blind confidence in oneself often stems from a lack of experience.
Prince Xin looked visibly disappointed. “Who invited you anyway? It’s such a rare occasion to have a grand ceremony with so many people, so lively.”
The Crown Prince, however, saw things differently. Perhaps it was because of the stark difference in their roles. One was a carefree prince, while the other was the appointed heir to the throne. The fourth prince could drink and carouse with others freely, but the Crown Prince could not. In fact, he believed it was better this way. There was a clear distinction between ruler and the subject. For the Crown Prince, even with his brothers, there was an invisible wall. Courteous pleasantries were exchanged, but he always carried himself as befitting his position.
To let loose? That was something he could only do in the company of Su Xinghe. With others, even the fourth prince, he maintained his composure. His birth set him apart, and as the future ruler, every word and action mattered. Breaking decorum now would only make it harder to restore order in the future.
The Crown Prince said, “If you want someone to drink with, look for the eldest brother at the banquet. He’s the one drowning in his sorrows. As for us…” He turned to glance at Su Xinghe. “We only need wine to enhance the mood.”
Prince Xin initially wanted to pester him into taking him along to the gathering, but it was clear there was no chance now. The couple would probably have other plans after a few drinks. What would he do just stand around and play the third wheel?
Rubbing his nose awkwardly, Prince Xin left begrudgingly. Su Xinghe, seeing through the situation, looked disdainful, her expression full of annoyance.
Wine, as they say, is a matchmaker. The Crown Prince began to imagine how he might put his good alcohol tolerance to use that evening. Su Xinghe was a young lady; even if she liked drinking, a few cups would likely be her limit. By then, tipsy and unsteady, she would have no choice but to lean on him, using him as her support.
The thought of her leaning on him, what kind of feeling would that be? He could hardly imagine it. The Crown Prince had always carried immense responsibilities. He could shoulder the burdens of the world, but he had never truly been relied upon by a single, tangible person. It is under the weight of reliance that one finds a sense of purpose, that everything feels real rather than hollow.
But Su Xinghe was too independent. She never showed weakness and always found solutions to her problems. What use did a man have in her life? Perhaps only for having children… Only when she was drunk could she resemble a typical woman, leaning into his arms, adorably clumsy as she pouted and demanded a kiss from him.
Lost in his thoughts, the Crown Prince began to feel an inexplicable warmth in the freezing weather. His heart was a blazing fire, his palms burned, and even the soles of his feet felt hot. In his mind’s eye, a hazy vision appeared: Su Xinghe’s delicate shoulders partly bare, her thighs exposed, moving sensuously in the flickering candlelight. Her eyes brimmed with emotion, her lips slightly parted… It was unbearable. The Crown Prince, a man in his prime who had restrained himself for over twenty years, felt consumed by his own imagination.
Meanwhile, Prince Xin was still talking, relishing the story of Prince Jianping and his mother’s misfortunes. “Did you see him today? His face was as long as a gourd. Even when old Duke Zhong spoke to him, he barely responded…”
Su Xinghe, standing nearby, observed the Crown Prince. His eyes were dazed, clearly lost in a daydream. Unable to hold back, she called out, “Your Highness, what’s wrong?”
The Crown Prince snapped out of it, startled. Realizing his lapse, he quickly adjusted his expression and turned to ask Prince Xin, “Do you have any plans for the afternoon?”
Prince Xin replied casually, “Just heading out with Lai Zhi and the others for a stroll.”
The Crown Prince nodded. “Don’t miss the return time.” Without saying more, he clasped his hands behind his back and walked toward the Chongjiao Gate.
Returning to the Eastern Palace after lunch, Su Xinghe helped arrange the bedding and left to handle other matters. Meanwhile, the Crown Prince summoned Dequan.
Dequan came trotting in, stopping beneath the gilded red window. The faint daylight filtering through the oiled paper panes softened the roughness of his face, making it more tolerable. He bowed low and said, “Your servant awaits Your Highness’s instructions.”
The Crown Prince leaned against a circular chair, flipping through some old notes. “Have you prepared the wine I asked for?”
Dequan nodded eagerly. “Yes, Your Highness. The finest aged brew, with plenty of osmanthus and a strong dose of baijiu.”
Osmanthus wine usually wasn’t very strong since it was often tailored for women, who weren’t expected to drink themselves into oblivion. But knowing that the Crown Prince intended to drink with Lord Su tonight, Dequan suspected there was some hidden agenda. Dequan was far too clever to miss such nuances, after all, his resourcefulness was what had kept him rooted in the Eastern Palace for so many years. He understood his master’s unspoken needs; a single glance from the Crown Prince was enough for Dequan to know how to provide exactly what would bring good results.
As expected, the Crown Prince’s brows lifted slightly. Though he didn’t smile, a hint of satisfaction glimmered in his gaze.
“Baijiu has quite a strong kick…” The Crown Prince mused aloud, making Dequan’s heart skip a beat. He froze, staring with wide eyes, only for the Crown Prince to continue with a change of tone, “It might not be very palatable.”
Dequan instantly beamed. “Not to worry, Your Highness. Your servant added rock sugar. It’s guaranteed to be sweet and smooth.”
The Crown Prince said nothing further, merely letting out a light sigh. Rising to his feet, he draped a heavy cloak over his shoulders and strode out of the main hall.
The afternoon was quiet, as the Winter Solstice was traditionally a day off. Though state affairs were pressing, they were never-ending, and a few hours wouldn’t make much difference. On festival days, the Crown Prince usually stayed by the Emperor’s side, partly to fulfill his filial duty and partly as a show of loyalty, ensuring no one else gained favor in his absence.
The Hall of Governance had once been the shared residence of the Emperor and Empress. Only when entertaining concubines did the Emperor stay in the Lizheng Hall. After the Empress’s passing, the Emperor continued living there with the fourth prince. The Emperor’s affection for the late Empress had been deep, but as ruler, duty often overshadowed personal desires. The heavier the burden, the less freedom one had.
When the Crown Prince entered the hall, the Emperor was standing before a sand table, arranging small flags. Seeing his son, he frowned and said, “You’ve come at the right time. The southern border has been restless lately. A small border nation is causing trouble, and rebels have risen within their own ranks. Under the guise of uniting under a common ruler, they are inciting riots among the peasants.
“Our main forces are stationed north of the Kunlun Mountains. Moving troops southward in this harsh winter will be a long and treacherous journey. With thousands of soldiers on the move, casualties will be inevitable.”
The Crown Prince leaned in to observe. He had studied the troubles in the southern borderlands at least a hundred times and was thoroughly familiar with the troop movement diagrams. The Emperor shifted a small flag across the sand table, where the scaled-down model of the southern border resembled a chessboard every move final.
The Crown Prince noted the extended battlefront from north to south and said, “A distant remedy cannot quench a nearby thirst. Why not take a middle-ground approach, Father?” He reached out to remove the small flag representing the garrison troops stationed in the basin and repositioned it in the southern interior. The Emperor’s flagpole dropped into the sand to fill the vacant spot.
“Although mobilizing both armies would double the logistical expenses, it would halve the strain of a long march and significantly reduce casualties. The southern troops would arrive first, while the garrison troops would follow later. This way, the basin won’t be left defenseless. If the campaign encounters setbacks, the southern troops, being larger in number, can easily mobilize reinforcements.”
The Emperor gazed at the red and white flags on the sand table. Despite their movements, the balance remained intact. He sighed deeply and said, “I didn’t think of that truly a sign that age is catching up with me. My mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be.” He dusted off his hands and motioned for the Crown Prince to sit with him on the south-facing couch.
The Crown Prince followed behind, speaking warmly, “Don’t say that, Father. It’s merely that court affairs have been overwhelming lately, leaving you mentally fatigued. After the upcoming ceremony, take a few days to rest and you’ll recover your energy in no time.”
As they spoke, a servant brought tea. The Emperor held the cup, gently skimming the tea leaves floating on the surface. In a measured tone, he said, “State affairs are one thing perpetually complicated, but I’ve long grown accustomed to them. What truly weighs on my heart is the matter of Princess Xialing. A precious daughter, born of nobility, yet after her marriage, her reputation has become utterly disgraceful. It’s heartbreaking. And now, with the matter of appointing an Empress coinciding with this, how can I not be troubled?”
The Crown Prince, however, showed no urgency to topple Zuo Zhaoyi from her position as Imperial Consort. The more pressing the matter, the more he needed to feign indifference. He replied calmly, “Whatever plans you originally had, Father, proceed with them as usual. No matter how chaotic things get, there’s no need for you to concern yourself overly much.”
The Emperor slowly shook his head. “It won’t do. Without cultivating the virtues of a consort, how could she raise such an unruly and disgraceful princess? How could someone like her mother serve as a model for all women in the empire? I did have the intention before based on her seniority, Zuo Zhaoyi is the longest-serving consort in the palace. Accompanying me all these years, she’s had her share of struggles, even if not great achievements. But it’s a pity her daughter has brought her nothing but shame, and at such a critical moment, to cause such a scandal…”
The Crown Prince was somewhat taken aback. “Father, you mean to say you had considered naming Zuo Zhaoyi as Empress?”
The Emperor hesitated at his words, pausing to sort through his thoughts. Waving his hand, he said, “Never mind who I had in mind. Let’s hear your thoughts first.”
The Crown Prince replied, “I still remember how deeply Mother respected Zuo Zhaoyi when she was alive. During Mother’s final illness, it was Zuo Zhaoyi who stayed by her side for three days and nights without rest. I’ve always kept that in mind. Even in humble households, they say, ‘Marry a virtuous wife.’ If I’d misunderstood your intention, Father, I might have gone to the Wenshi Palace to congratulate Zuo Zhaoyi, which would’ve turned into a laughingstock.”
“Zuo Zhaoyi?” The Emperor seemed momentarily caught off guard, clearly having never considered her. “Though Zuo Zhaoyi holds a high rank, her personality is too moderate. I fear she may lack the strength to take on such a significant role.”
The Crown Prince smiled. “Palace affairs have always been under Zuo Zhaoyi’s control, leaving little room for Zuo Zhaoyi to share in your burdens. Her so-called moderation is simply a way to maintain harmony and protect herself. If Father had initially intended to elevate Zuo Zhaoyi, I had no objections. However, given the current uproar over Princess Xialing, I humbly believe Zuo Zhaoyi is no longer a suitable choice. Father could select another candidate while appointing Zuo Zhaoyi as Deputy Empress to assist with palace affairs. It would achieve the same balance.”
The Emperor’s gaze at the Crown Prince grew subtly peculiar. Things had escalated to such an unmanageable extent that suspicion was inevitable. With the Ministry of Military Control under the Crown Prince’s command, bypassing it to involve another bureau would undermine the Crown Prince’s authority. Between the imperial heir and the soon-to-be-appointed Empress, the Emperor ultimately chose the former. At his age, what was there to cling to? All that mattered was the stability of the dynasty and peace throughout the land.
Like all aging fathers, the Emperor felt it was time to heed the opinions of the younger generation. With his hands resting on his knees, he nodded slowly. “Perhaps I was at fault too, letting my thoughts wander and settling on this candidate when I shouldn’t have…” He looked toward his son again, the deep affection of a father evident in his gaze, with all his emotions conveyed in that single look.
The Crown Prince suddenly felt a lump in his throat. Yet, the Emperor’s suspicion remained just that suspicion. If he showed any signs of faltering now, the blame for the scandal would soon shift onto him. The Emperor might resent him for tarnishing Princess Xialing’s reputation or even begin to question the true circumstances surrounding Consort Gao Zhiya’s death.
In the imperial family, the bond between father and son was never as straightforward as in ordinary households. No one could predict when paternal love might wane or abruptly cease. For one who wielded absolute power over life and death, the Emperor was both a ruler and a god. Thus, respect and caution were always required; this was a principle the Crown Prince had internalized over the years.
“The case of the prince consort’s assassination was assigned to the Ministry of Military Control. Truthfully, I had reservations from the outset. I delayed pursuing the matter because its implications were too vast, and I dared not hastily reach a conclusion. Zuo Zhaoyi recommended Su Xinghe to serve as an investigator for the Jinyi Guard because of her close personal ties with Su Xinghe’s mother. For this reason, I entrusted everything to Su Xinghe, confident that even if she uncovered evidence unfavorable to Princess Xialing and acted with bias, I could turn a blind eye. But fate had other plans. The kitchen hand recanted on the spot, exposing everything before the chief scribes of the Twelve Bureaus. Neither Su Xinghe nor I could salvage the situation.” He paused and took a gentle breath.
“I imagine that, in your heart, Father, you might resent me or harbor suspicions that I orchestrated this to undermine Zuo Zhaoyi. But you know my intentions. I would never tarnish the Huo family name. If I had foreseen the kitchen hand’s betrayal, I would have silenced him in advance rather than allow such matters to come to light.”
The Crown Prince was far too shrewd to let his last two statements be idle remarks; they were deliberate tests. If his father had agreed with the notion of silencing witnesses, it would have been disheartening, an indication that the Emperor truly favored Zuo Zhaoyi, perhaps even to the point of overcoming all obstacles to appoint her as Empress.
He waited silently, mentally prepared for the worst. Fortunately, the Emperor did not agree. Instead, he said, “You are the Crown Prince of the Dayin Dynasty, the future ruler of this realm. You must have an impartial scale in your heart. This scale cannot be unbalanced if one side loses a counterweight, the heavens and earth will tremble, and the people will fall into chaos. I would rather you administer justice fairly than conceal shame and lose your composure. Even a prince, if he breaks the law, must face the same punishment as the common folk. Princess Xialing is no exception; there is no room for leniency.”
The Crown Prince’s heart, which had been suspended in uncertainty, finally settled. In the imperial family, calculations and maneuverings were a tradition, and outcomes depended on whose strategy was superior. Though his father’s protection had been fundamental to his survival, the countless near-misses and moments of peril were beyond counting. As he grew older and more composed, his thoughts became increasingly guarded. Even with those he cared for most, he never fully revealed his true feelings. Reflecting on this, he couldn’t deny the sadness of it.
Since the conversation had progressed to this point, he took the opportunity to bow deeply and make a request. “Your son would like to ask for a favor on Su Xinghe’s behalf.”
The Emperor was well aware of the close relationship between Su Xinghe and the Crown Prince, though he didn’t understand why the Crown Prince continued to delay giving her a formal status. This request for a favor must still relate to the previous incident. Without showing any immediate reaction, the Emperor felt a pang of sympathy, understanding his son’s temperament.
“A young lady’s reputation is indeed crucial. What is it you wish for? Speak freely.”
The Crown Prince rose and bowed deeply, saying, “I ask for nothing else. Su Xinghe is currently serving as an officer of the Jinyi Guard. In her duties, she will inevitably handle cases involving noblewomen, all of whom outrank her. I ask only this favor: that no matter the rank of the women or their relatives involved, they may not be allowed to punish or demean the officials handling their cases. Since the Ministry of Military Control reports directly to the Eastern Palace, any insult or abuse toward its officers reflects poorly on me. I ask for your approval, Father.”
This was a reasonable request; after all, court officials should not be subject to humiliation, let alone a close confidant of the Crown Prince.
The Emperor nodded. “I grant your request. But this cannot go on forever, you avoiding taking a consort and focusing only on her duties. What about my imperial grandsons? Haven’t we long been expecting good news from you? Where is it?”
The Crown Prince immediately looked flustered. “Your son has been busy lately and hasn’t had the time…”
The Emperor let out a long sigh. “Your mother is no longer with us, yet I still have to worry about these things. Huo Qingzhu, you’re not young anymore. After the New Year, you’ll be twenty-three.”
Time indeed seemed to be pressing. A twenty-three-year-old Crown Prince with not even a secondary consort in the palace if this continued, the lack of an heir would render him unworthy of his position.
But the truth was something the Crown Prince couldn’t say aloud; if he did, his father might grow angry and send a parade of women into the Eastern Palace. Rubbing his hands and leaning his elbows on his knees, he considered his words carefully before saying, “Father, my wish is for my eldest son to be born of Su Xinghe. That way, his claim will be legitimate and undisputed.”
The Emperor fell silent, visibly moved by his son’s words.
The woman one loves most should indeed be like this. Yet, for the Emperor himself, the one he publicly and privately acknowledged as his true partner was the late Empress. Still, the firstborn had been conceived with a concubine. Huo Qingzhu was the legitimate heir, but not the eldest son, which had given the Emperor pause when considering the elevation of Zuo Zhaoyi. On one hand, there was his beloved son; on the other, a companion of over twenty years. It seemed impossible to favor one without slighting the other. But now, with the scandal surrounding Princess Xialing’s household, it appeared fate had made the choice for him.
A son is still a son, your lifeblood, your legacy. Huo Qingzhu’s personality bore a striking resemblance to the Emperor’s own in his youth, though Huo Qingzhu was more resolute and courageous.
The Emperor reached out and patted his son on the shoulder but said nothing.
When it was time for refreshments, the kitchen sent over fruits and pastries. Father and son sat quietly by the lattice window, sharing a meal in a moment of familial warmth.
The evening banquet, held in the Taiji Hall, was to honor the officials for their year of service. It wasn’t just a feast of food and drink but also the occasion for the annual conferment of awards.
Though the Crown Prince wasn’t fond of such gatherings, he had no choice but to adapt. He sat beside the Emperor, his position as heir apparent granting him a seat just below the imperial throne. The air was filled with elegant music, and the officials toasted one another. There were neither wild revelers nor stifling formalities. The monarch and his ministers exchanged lighthearted anecdotes, turning the usually austere and solemn hall into a lively and warm space, softened by laughter and the glow of colorful palace lanterns.
The Crown Prince toasted on behalf of the Emperor for two rounds, calmly observing the crowd. The banquet tables, arranged in pairs, were assigned according to rank. Tonight’s feast included every notable official, with the Su family father and son naturally present. Su Yujin, now a Grand Secretary and a member of the inner cabinet, shared a table with other cabinet ministers. It seemed he kept an eye on the main seats, for as soon as the Crown Prince turned his gaze his way, Su Yujin immediately noticed and raised his cup respectfully.
Receiving a toast from his future father-in-law, the Crown Prince smiled and reciprocated. His eyes shifted to Su Xinghai, seated with the Grand Marshal. The two refined and composed men exchanged conversation, each with their own calculations, yet their interactions remained harmonious. The subtle jabs between them were barely perceptible, revealed only in fleeting glances of mild disdain. The Crown Prince watched with interest, finding the interplay between them quite intriguing.
Ah, thinking of Su Xinghe… merely looking at Su Xinghai offered no solace. Turning to check the water clock, he saw the hour was not yet late; this seemingly endless banquet still had a way to go.
Meanwhile, Su Xinghe had finished her meal and, with nothing else to occupy her, sat in the duty room reviewing documents. Dequan bustled in and out several times, grumbling on each trip, “Why hasn’t His Highness returned yet? Look at the hour!”
Hearing it enough times,Su Xinghe finally asked curiously, “What’s wrong, Chief Steward? Do you have urgent business to report to His Highness?”
Dequan shook his head, chuckling awkwardly. “No, no. It’s just… I’m worried on Su Daren’s behalf. They had plans to drink and admire the moon together.”
Admire the moon? On the Winter Solstice, with the moon reduced to barely a sliver, what moon was there to admire? Su Xinghe glanced at him, sensing that master and servant both were hiding something. She chuckled. “I’m not in any rush. I already had several drinks earlier with the Chamberlain. His Highness said he’d invite me to drink tonight, but it’s just for the occasion.”
As she spoke, she recalled how he had teased Prince Xin earlier, pretending that someone had wept and pleaded for his company, and she couldn’t help but feel the urge to roll her eyes.
Dequan chuckled ambiguously. “Oh no, His Highness is a thoughtful man. Why else wouldn’t he invite me, or even that little rat-clawed fellow? Yet he only asked you, just you alone. This shows that in his heart, you’re.” He raised his thick thumb as he spoke, grinning knowingly.
To be fair, Su Xinghe had indeed received much favor. The Crown Prince was someone who valued loyalty and affection. Although he never missed a chance to tease her, the care and privileges she enjoyed were enough to balance out the grievances.
Still, she was increasingly puzzled. He hadn’t always been this way. Most of the time, he maintained a reserved demeanor that made him difficult to approach. Lately, perhaps as he grew older, his attitude had shifted. Ever since that one night when they’d shared a bed although nothing had actually happened her status seemed to have skyrocketed. She had gone from being treated like a stray cat or dog to being acknowledged as a person.
His behavior began to change, from aloofness and playful jabs to outright teasing and targeting even her childhood friends. Piece by piece, it all added up until she almost felt like she didn’t know him anymore. Maybe, just as Prince Xin prayed for the late Empress, he was beginning to think about settling down. Being the Crown Prince, he couldn’t easily express his feelings, and since she had been by his side the longest, she naturally became the first to bear the brunt of his clumsy attempts at intimacy.
Dequan was still rambling. “What’s the plan for tonight? I’ve already cleared everyone out of the Hall of Radiance. You two can drink there, and afterward, if you want to rest, just lie down and no one will see.” He winked conspiratorially. “ Su Xinghe, should I light that special incense? I’ll have someone prepare it right away.”
By “that special incense,” he meant Hehuan Xiang, the same incense burned during Yin Chen’s visit. Su Xinghe, being thick-skinned from years of enduring baseless rumors, wasn’t fazed. She thanked Dequan for his attentiveness and brushed him off casually. “Chief Steward, haven’t you figured it out by now? His Highness and I are like an old married couple. That incense is wasted on us, save it for the future ladies.”
And as fate would have it, every time she made such remarks, they came back to bite her.
The Crown Prince appeared in the doorway, holding a wine jar. His expression was hard to read, a mix of awkwardness and shyness. He glanced at her, his gaze fleeting but lingering enough to convey something unspoken.
“I’m back…” he said, then turned away, leaving a wistful backward glance over his shoulder. “What are you standing there for? Come along!”
