SBMT Chapter 4

“There’s no need to be so formal with me, Shizi. Calling yourself a commoner makes things far too distant.” Chu Zhao’s words made the Marquis and Madam Luo break out in a cold sweat. Before they could respond, he stood and personally welcomed Shen Ziqin. “You’re not well-come, sit.”

 

So Shen Ziqin ignored the Marquis and Madam Luo and sat down naturally.

 

Right next to Chu Zhao.

 

Shen Ziqin noticed a white-haired young attendant standing behind Chu Zhao. From the moment the boy saw him, his eyes had been shining, clear and bright.

 

Shen Ziqin’s own attendant tried to step forward, but Chu Zhao stopped him with a lift of his hand. Chu Zhao picked up a purple clay teapot and poured Shen Ziqin a steaming cup of tea. “The young lord of Duke Dingguo sent an invitation for you to view flowers tomorrow, but the Marquis’s household claimed you were bedridden and sent the eldest son in your place. I was worried about your health, so I brought some medicine to visit.”

 

Chu Zhao set down the teapot. “Seeing you look so well today is truly a relief.”

 

The sound of the teapot tapping the wooden table made Madam Luo clutch her handkerchief tighter, and the Marquis’s beard trembled with his heavy breathing.

 

With just a few words, Chu Zhao made the whole situation clear to Shen Ziqin.

 

Shen Ziqin’s hands and feet were always cold, but the warmth from the teacup spread through his fingertips. From Hei Ying waiting at the gate to Chu Zhao’s words and actions, everything made it clear: Chu Zhao was here to support him.

 

He’d come at just the right time-just like this warming cup of tea, timely and comforting.

 

First impressions between strangers matter, and Prince Qin had quickly earned a lot of points with him.

 

Maybe Chu Zhao really was a good person?

 

Shen Ziqin followed Chu Zhao’s lead: “An invitation? Flower viewing?” His tone was just the right mix of confusion and innocence. “I’ve never heard of it.”

 

He truly didn’t know, but at this moment he added a touch of deliberate acting.

 

A little performance made for a better slap in the face.

 

Shen Ziqin: The heir knows nothing, oh.

 

He and Chu Zhao exchanged a look, both fixing their eyes on the Marquis and Madam Luo.

 

Madam Luo was twisting her handkerchief to shreds under her sleeve.

 

The Marquis forced himself to speak: “He really was unwell recently. Ziqin, you too-since you’re better now, why didn’t you come greet your parents?”

 

Not only was he claiming Ziqin didn’t know, he was also hinting that Ziqin was disrespectful-trying to shift the blame with just a few words.

 

But Shen Ziqin wasn’t about to let him get away with it. He sidestepped the greeting and went straight to the point: “I went out today. With so many eyes in the household, if you truly cared about my health, how could you not know?”

 

Beautifully done-he volleyed the ball right back.

 

Chu Zhao summarized, “So, the heir was left out of the loop and someone else made the decision for him?”

 

Shen Ziqin was sure now-Chu Zhao really had come to take his side.

 

Madam Luo knew she was at fault but couldn’t admit it, so she forced a smile: “Perhaps a servant misunderstood and passed on the wrong message.”

 

Not surprising that she’d try to shift the blame, but Chu Zhao’s smile didn’t fade; his eyelids lowered slightly. “To switch the invitation from the heir to Shen Minghong, that servant must be bold and powerful. Why not call them here for me to see?”

 

The Marquis narrowed his eyes. This was his own home, and a prince out of imperial favor was as good as dead. Polite words were fine, but trying to take charge? You’ve come to the wrong place.

 

“Servants can be unruly, but I’ll discipline them myself and give Your Highness satisfaction!”

 

The Marquis sounded righteous, but Chu Zhao wasn’t buying it. He leaned back in his chair: “Satisfaction for the heir. And I’d like to see for myself how the Marquis disciplines servants who overstep their bounds.”

 

How interesting, Shen Ziqin thought, feeling the warmth of the teacup-Chu Zhao could smile and still command respect.

 

The Marquis’s face darkened; even the pretense of politeness dropped. “Your Highness, household matters should be settled behind closed doors. Why trouble yourself? We all serve the emperor-surely Your Highness can grant me this small courtesy?”

 

Oh, bringing up the emperor now?

 

Chu Zhao’s smile deepened. He suddenly turned to Shen Ziqin: “Shizi, how’s the tea?”

 

It was actually quite good-the tea served to guests in the front hall was much better than the rough stuff in his own courtyard-but Shen Ziqin guessed Chu Zhao was about to make a point, so he played along and replied thoughtfully, “The fragrance is a bit light.”

 

“What a coincidence. I brought some imperial tribute tea from Jiangnan for you.”

 

The latest Jiangnan Rain Tea, worth hundreds of gold, was so rare that even the palace barely had any.

 

But now the Prince Qin’s residence had it.

 

Chu Zhao rested one hand on his knee. “The Marquis is a high official, recently favored by His Majesty. I’m just an idle prince-how could I compare?”

 

Chu Zhao still held the title of Grand Marshal, but since returning to the capital, he’d been sidelined, with no real power and not even required to attend court-a complete outsider.

 

The Marquis suddenly realized something, a sense of unease growing as his eyes widened.

 

Chu Zhao saw his reaction and smiled. “After the marriage decree, His Majesty not only rewarded me with many gifts, but also sent word that I’ve rested long enough and should return to court. Now that I’ve lost my right to inherit, tell me-might the emperor start valuing me again, just like my second brother?”

 

Since childhood, the second prince had been known as a prodigy, but the older he grew, the less the emperor liked him. Yet ever since he broke both legs and was confined to a wheelchair for life, the emperor actually began to use him.

 

Someone with a disability, by tradition, would never sit on the throne, so the emperor felt perfectly secure employing him.

 

These words struck the Marquis of Yin Nan like a bolt from the blue, exploding in his mind and leaving Madam Luo beside him utterly dumbfounded. Their reactions were so obvious that Shen Ziqin nearly laughed out loud.

 

Of course-these two had always fixated on the heir position, assuming Chu Zhao was just a defanged, powerless prince, never once considering that Prince Qin might regain influence.

 

And since what happened to the second prince was years ago, it was easy for people to forget things that didn’t concern them.

 

The Marquis of Yin Nan was always shortsighted, relying on ancestral merit to stand in court, lacking any real ability. Now, in his old age, his decisions were growing worse, yet he was still pleased with his own cleverness.

 

Jolted awake by a few words, the Marquis fell silent for a moment before lowering his voice: “Someone, bring up the servant who delivered that reply.”

 

Madam Luo wanted to say something but was silenced by a warning glare from the Marquis.

 

…The servant about to be punished was a distant relative she’d recommended-obedient and always pleasing to her.

 

Punishing the servant was a slap in her own face.

 

Shen Ziqin glanced at the servant kneeling and slapping himself for mercy, then at the Marquis and Madam Luo, and suddenly found it all rather dull.

 

The Marquis ordered the servant to pack up and leave, then asked Chu Zhao, “Is Your Highness satisfied?”

 

He tried to force a polite smile, but it came out all wrong, making his features look even more awkward.

 

Chu Zhao, however, turned to Shen Ziqin, “What does the heir think?”

 

Shen Ziqin replied, “This will do.”

 

Chu Zhao began to praise him, “The heir is kind-hearted, truly-”

 

Shen Ziqin lazily cut in, “He’s just a parrot repeating his master’s words.”

 

Chu Zhao paused mid-sentence, then smoothly changed course: “The heir is right.”

 

The Marquis’s grip on the armrest was so tight it looked like his old bones might snap, but he knew he’d get nothing more today and wanted to end things quickly before anything else could go wrong.

 

Seeing Shen Ziqin had no intention of pursuing the matter, Chu Zhao turned away from the Marquis: “Will the heir attend the flower-viewing banquet tomorrow? If so, I’ll come pick you up.”

 

The message was clear-he’d be going too.

 

First impressions were good, but to really get to know someone, you had to spend time together. Shen Ziqin didn’t hesitate: “Then I’ll trouble Your Highness.”

 

“It’s no trouble,” Chu Zhao replied warmly, as if he hadn’t just been pressuring the Marquis, his double standard on full display. “What time should I come?”

 

Shen Ziqin’s body needed a lot of sleep. When he first arrived, his modern work schedule had him waking at six, but this body forced him back to sleep, and he couldn’t open his eyes before nine, sometimes even later.

 

He’d learned to go with the flow and was almost used to waking naturally. Since Chu Zhao let him pick the time, Shen Ziqin said, “How about si hour?”

 

Madam Luo was seething but didn’t dare speak, only fuming inwardly: How shameless to suggest si hour! Only lazy good-for-nothings sleep until the sun’s high. Does he think everyone will indulge him-

 

Chu Zhao: “Of course.”

 

Madam Luo: “……”

 

Infuriating!

 

The Marquis seized the moment to speak: “Your Highness-”

 

But Chu Zhao pretended not to hear, focusing only on Shen Ziqin: “Heir, let me escort you back to your courtyard for some rest. Sitting here too long isn’t good for your recovery.”

 

Why not? Because certain people’s presence was bad for his mood.

 

Shen Ziqin went along: “Alright.”

 

The two of them stood and left together, treating the others as if they were air. The Marquis’s face shifted through several shades before settling into a deep scowl.

 

Madam Luo, realizing she’d made a mess, quickly softened her tone and supported him: “My lord…”

 

The Marquis glared at the empty doorway, his anger boiling over: “You handled this far too stupidly.”

 

Madam Luo’s beautiful eyes trembled, on the verge of tears. She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, looking pitiful. “It was my fault. I just wanted Minghong to have more chances to connect with the nobles. I was too eager.”

 

She was admitting fault, but also excusing herself, lowering her stance as she knew the Marquis liked. He sighed and patted her hand: “Alright, I’m not really blaming you. Why so upset?”

 

Madam Luo wasn’t good at the big picture, but she was adept at managing the Marquis and household affairs. Knowing she’d passed this hurdle, she didn’t dare mention her favored servant who’d just been thrown out, and wisely let the matter drop.

 

Just as she was thinking this, the Marquis said, “Let’s forget about today. But go over Shen Ziqin’s dowry again and add to it.”

 

Madam Luo looked up in surprise, but the Marquis’s face told her he meant it. He said sternly, “Do as I say.”

 

Madam Luo, unwilling, replied, “…Yes.”

 

The Marquis pinched his brow, remembering Chu Zhao’s words, and felt another headache: Requesting the marriage between Prince Qin and Ziqin-had he really made a misstep?

 

He really wasn’t good at chess, not even as good as Shen Ziqin, who hadn’t played in years.

 

Chess required calm and patience. Shen Ziqin had only learned a little as a child, but he was clever and played well.

 

The heir’s courtyard had nothing of beauty. Chu Zhao looked at the sickly tree and the wild grass, then at Shen Ziqin, and found it all rather strange.

 

Such a bleak environment, yet it had produced someone so at ease.

 

The tree was withered, but the heir was unhurried. Shen Ziqin bowed: “Thank you for today, Your Highness.”

 

Chu Zhao’s gaze moved from the falling leaves back to Shen Ziqin. “As I said, there’s no need to be so formal with me. We’ll need to look out for each other from now on.”

 

Of course, to others, Shen Ziqin was just an unappreciated heir with no rank or power, hardly someone who could look out for Chu Zhao-a prince, after all, with a royal stipend, while Shen Ziqin relied on a meager household allowance.

 

Shen Ziqin still had no idea where his past allowances had gone-he suspected he had no savings at all.

 

The scenery in the front courtyard was a world apart from his own quarters. Shen Ziqin also felt this place wasn’t suitable for entertaining guests, but he still asked politely, “Would Your Highness like to sit for a while?”

 

Inviting his fiancé to be alone with him behind closed doors in his little courtyard-Chu Zhao could imagine how many people would gossip about that. But Shen Ziqin’s expression was open and unconcerned; he clearly didn’t care.

 

The heir looked delicate, but his actions were bold, and he had a sharp tongue.

 

Chu Zhao did have business to attend to later; otherwise, he really would have enjoyed sitting for a while. “I have some matters to handle, so I won’t stay. Please rest well, Shizi.”

 

Before leaving, he addressed the attendant who always followed Shen Ziqin, “You’re the personal attendant who’ll accompany the heir to the prince’s residence?”

 

The attendant had seen how Chu Zhao handled the Marquis of Yin Nan and didn’t dare be disrespectful. “Yes.”

 

“The heir will be staying in the Marquis’s residence for a while longer. Serve him well.”

 

The attendant immediately pledged his loyalty: “Rest assured, Your Highness, I will take excellent care of the heir!”

 

Chu Zhao didn’t let Shen Ziqin see him out, saying the wind had picked up and he didn’t want him to catch a chill.

 

People often assumed warriors were rough and careless, but Chu Zhao-this sharp blade-could kill on the battlefield and carve flowers in leisure. In just a few moments, he had shown Shen Ziqin a meticulous and thoughtful side.

 

The first impression was truly excellent. Shen Ziqin couldn’t help but imagine a bright future: Chu Zhao seemed reasonable-maybe the bridal chamber matter could be discussed?

 

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