SBMT Chapter 5

The next morning, the early worm had already nibbled the tree, the early bird had eaten the worm, and the battle of life had played out for several rounds. By the time the sun was high in the sky and the birds and worms had called a truce, the lazy cat that was the young heir finally wriggled out from under his warm quilt.

 

They say winter’s bedding is the hardest to leave, but that’s only half true-spring is just as bad.

 

It only takes a few days to go from diligent to lazy, and for good reason: it’s just too comfortable. It’s easy to get used to luxury. Though he hadn’t been here long, the word “overtime” already felt worlds away.

 

Shen Ziqin got ready and headed out. He had to drink a bowl of medicine every morning, leaving his mouth sour and bitter-so his mood was never great at this hour. And, of course, someone had to come looking for trouble.

 

He ran into Shen Minghong.

 

Shen Minghong was off duty at home today and had heard about what happened yesterday.

 

He’d never liked his half-brother Shen Ziqin, who held the heir’s title. Seeing how at ease Shen Ziqin looked, and remembering the late-night talk with the Marquis about the emperor possibly favoring Chu Zhao again, he grew even more frustrated.

 

So anything he said to Shen Ziqin was bound to be unpleasant.

 

“You look pretty well,” Shen Minghong said sarcastically.

 

Shen Ziqin lifted his eyelids indifferently. “Looks like you didn’t sleep well.”

 

Shen Ziqin’s complexion wasn’t actually good, but his skin was so pale that a hint of color on his lips looked striking. Shen Minghong, after a sleepless, anxious night, had terrible dark circles under his eyes.

 

Side by side, Shen Minghong actually looked more like the sick one.

 

He’d thought that once Shen Ziqin was married off as a male consort, he’d smoothly become the heir. But the possibility of things changing made Shen Minghong feel as if ants were crawling all over him-restless and uneasy.

 

Shen Ziqin’s words hit him right where it hurt. He gritted his teeth. “Don’t think Prince Qin will really protect you.”

 

Then, after a night of obsessing, a sudden idea struck him. “I heard Prince Qin was on your side yesterday, but maybe he’s just pretending because of circumstances?”

 

Right-marrying a male consort meant losing the right to inherit. Who could accept that?

 

Even if Prince Qin rose to power, would he really care about Shen Ziqin?

 

With this new logic, Shen Minghong’s face finally showed a smug smile. He went from irritable to cryptic, his dark-circled eyes gleaming. “Little brother, you’ve rarely been cared for. If someone treats you a little better, you lose your head. But people’s hearts can’t stand scrutiny.”

 

His words were sharp, and after the Lady of Pingyang died, no one had cared for Shen Ziqin.

 

Shen Minghong expected to see Shen Ziqin’s face change, but he didn’t expect his barb to bounce right off.

 

Please-modern Shen Ziqin had indeed lacked love as a child, but he’d grown up to be a high-attack, high-defense fighter, not a pitiful soul begging for affection.

 

Shen Ziqin’s lips curled in a beautiful, mocking smile, making the whole garden seem to bloom.

 

“People’s hearts are easy to see through,” he said lightly. “For example, I can see you’re anxious.”

 

You don’t need to shout to start a fire-sometimes a few light words add more fuel.

 

Shen Minghong’s temper flared. “I’m just concerned for you. Is that how you talk to your elder brother?”

 

Shen Ziqin replied steadily, “See? You’re anxious.”

 

The calmer he was, the more provocative it seemed to Shen Minghong, who finally lost it. “Shen. Zi. Qin!”

 

Shen Ziqin immediately borrowed his opponent’s tactic: “I’m just advising you to relax. Is that how you talk to the heir?”

 

If you measured his blood pressure, Shen Minghong’s would probably be 180 by now.

 

“Pfft!”

 

A sudden laugh rang out-but it wasn’t from either of them.

 

Both looked up in surprise, but there was no one there.

 

Shen Minghong forgot his anger, hair standing on end. “Who-who’s there playing tricks?!”

 

Only a gust of wind answered, rustling the grass.

 

In broad daylight, Shen Minghong broke out in a cold sweat. Could it really be a ghost?

 

Shen Ziqin was a staunch materialist, all logic-though surprised for a moment, he quickly analyzed: Was this a scout or assassin checking the place out?

 

Their skills needed work-almost exposed themselves-but if they were after the Marquis’s household, it had nothing to do with him.

 

After all, he was the least valuable target in the whole place.

 

Not wanting to waste any more time with Shen Minghong, Shen Ziqin took the chance to slip away, leaving his brother behind, fuming and spooked, like a puffed-up pufferfish.

 

Outside the Marquis’s residence, the Prince Qin’s carriage shifted slightly as Bai Xiao flipped down, patting his chest. “The consort came out-whew, that was close, I almost got caught.”

 

Hei Ying, who was driving the carriage, was surprised. “There’s a master in the Marquis’s house?”

 

Otherwise, with Bai Xiao’s skills, who could possibly notice him? Hei Ying had staked out the Marquis’s residence for days and hadn’t seen anyone that formidable.

 

“No, it’s just that the consort is so sharp-tongued I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Sorry.”

 

From inside the carriage, Chu Zhao’s voice came, full of interest: “What did he say?”

 

Bai Xiao recounted what had just happened.

 

Chu Zhao laughed in delight. “He really is interesting.”

 

When he’d finished laughing, he said unhurriedly, “You almost exposed yourself just to eavesdrop-by the rules for guards, you should be punished. Bai Xiao, no sweets for you for the next three days.”

 

Bai Xiao drooped, but accepted the punishment without complaint. “Yes, sir.”

 

“And also, when you see him later, don’t get the title wrong. He’s still the heir, not the consort yet.”

 

Bai Xiao’s hand, which had been scratching his head, paused. “Oh, right-he hasn’t married in yet.”

 

But that wasn’t what Chu Zhao meant. “He might not be willing to marry me. Until we’ve reached an understanding, let’s hold off on calling him consort.”

 

In Chu Zhao’s view, both of them were powerless in this situation-if anything, Shen Ziqin was even more pitiful than he was.

 

Of course, he didn’t know that in Shen Ziqin’s eyes, he was the more tragic one.

 

Chu Zhao lifted the curtain and got out to wait.

 

Just as Bai Xiao said, Shen Ziqin soon came out, and Chu Zhao personally helped him into the carriage.

 

Shen Ziqin felt he didn’t need the help, but Chu Zhao was quick and attentive, and since the contact had already happened, Shen Ziqin couldn’t just shake him off-otherwise, people might think he was dissatisfied.

 

Yesterday Chu Zhao had come on horseback, but today, since he was picking up Shen Ziqin, he’d specially switched to a carriage.

 

Shen Ziqin noticed that the Prince Qin’s carriage was not overly decorated on the outside, but the carved patterns were elegant and impressive. Inside, the carriage was more spacious than it appeared from outside, and in one corner hung a hollow wooden ball-a popular sachet filled with fragrance, releasing a pleasant scent.

 

Shen Ziqin sat opposite Chu Zhao; the cushion beneath him was soft, covered in fur, and felt almost like down inside.

 

In short: understated luxury.

 

Chu Zhao clearly wasn’t favored by the emperor, yet he seemed quite wealthy. Or perhaps, after the imperial marriage decree, the emperor had finally made up for all the rewards he’d withheld in the past?

 

Chu Zhao opened a compartment in the carriage, revealing several kinds of pastries. “Has the heir had breakfast? Would you like to try some snacks?”

 

He had eaten, but at Chu Zhao’s words, Shen Ziqin looked over and saw five or six kinds of delicate pastries neatly arranged-milky-white soft cakes, brightly colored flower pastries, all steaming and fragrant, their appearance and aroma making his mouth water.

 

Shen Ziqin had been full, but suddenly felt his stomach could make a little more effort.

 

He thanked Chu Zhao and picked up a pastry to eat.

 

Shen Ziqin’s movements were elegant but not slow. Chu Zhao noticed he only took one of the savory pepper-salt pastries, but had two each of the osmanthus sugar cakes and milk cakes.

 

Ah, a sweet tooth.

 

Chu Zhao picked up a pepper-salt pastry himself, and his mind drifted to the salty-versus-sweet debate that once trended online in modern times.

 

Chu Zhao preferred savory.

 

But here, if he joked about whether tofu pudding should be salty or sweet, no one would get it-they’d just bring him two bowls.

 

Sigh. As Chu Zhao chewed his savory pastry, he thought: life really is lonely as snow.

 

After a few pieces, Shen Ziqin stopped eating. The carriage’s shock absorption was excellent-smooth and steady, not bumpy at all. Shen Ziqin silently praised Great Qi’s craftsmanship and took the chance to observe Chu Zhao.

 

Today, Chu Zhao wore dark clothes with a striking white jade belt at his waist, the black and white setting off his slim, strong waist.

 

Both had narrow waists, but when people looked at Shen Ziqin’s, it seemed fragile and delicate; looking at Chu Zhao’s-now that was a good waist, you could just tell he could do a backflip.

 

People really are different.

 

As usual, Shen Ziqin wore a cloak over his outfit, covering his figure. He secretly touched his own waist, a little envious, and thought that once he recovered, maybe he should work out-not only to improve his figure, but also to live longer.

 

While he was thinking this, the carriage stopped.

 

Hei Ying reined in the horses. “Your Highness, Shizi, we’ve arrived.”

 

In front of Duke Dingguo’s estate, carriages and sedan chairs were arriving in a steady stream. Many guests hadn’t entered yet, lingering at the gate exchanging pleasantries-it was lively.

 

But as soon as Prince Qin’s carriage arrived, the noise abruptly died down.

 

All eyes turned to the prince’s carriage-some inscrutable, some sighing with pity, some openly scornful.

 

The reason some dared to look down on a prince was that, in the minds of many officials at court, the stereotype had taken root: princes were no match for powerful ministers and noble houses.

 

The current emperor, Cheng’an, was stubborn and self-willed-useless in state affairs, but a master at manipulating people, an expert in imperial intrigue. If that were all, he might have been a competent ruler.

 

But the problem was, the older Emperor Cheng’an got, the more unhinged he became.

 

He reveled in unrivaled power and dreamed of immortality, even creating the post of “Imperial Preceptor” just to have someone make him elixirs of long life.

 

His obsession with immortality grew to madness, and as he aged, the vigorous young princes became thorns in his side.

 

Emperor Cheng’an had six sons; Chu Zhao was the sixth.

 

The fourth and fifth princes died young of illness-no intrigue there. But the misfortunes that befell the other princes were suspicious:

 

The crown prince was gifted in both civil and military affairs, respected the wise and virtuous, but died at the hands of bandits while inspecting the provinces.

 

The second prince was both virtuous and talented, but after less than two months of attending court, he broke his legs at a palace banquet and was confined to a wheelchair for life.

 

There was no evidence the emperor was behind the adult princes’ misfortunes, but his attitude made the clever ones sense something was wrong.

 

As the saying goes, “In the imperial family, there are no true fathers and sons.” The princes hadn’t made any moves yet, but the emperor himself was already restless.

 

 

For a time, the entire imperial harem was filled with anxiety. The Imperial Astronomer (Qintianjian) quickly performed astrological divination, loudly declaring that the successive misfortunes befalling the princes were a dire omen. If another prince were to die an unnatural death, it could damage the Great Qi’s fortune for a hundred years.

 

Although Emperor Cheng’an was furious, he was ultimately wary and held back.

 

The Imperial Astronomer dared to risk his life to make this report only because he had the Empress Dowager’s backing. Otherwise, as a prince whose maternal grandfather was the Grand Marshal, Chu Zhao might have already suffered some “accident.”

 

The emperor only played at political intrigue, rarely handling proper affairs, and soon the bureaucracy was thrown into chaos.

 

In truth, almost no one believed Emperor Cheng’an would ever find the secret to immortality; everyone knew he would die sooner or later. But some people didn’t place their bets on the princes-instead, they used the current state of the court to fight for power and profit. As long as they held real power, the next emperor would be whoever they chose. Who cared about powerless princes and royal descendants?

 

To hold the emperor hostage and command the nobles-now that was truly appealing.

 

Everyone harbored their own motives, silently watching as Chu Zhao stepped down from the carriage.

 

There was actually another person in the carriage.

 

When Chu Zhao reached out to help that person down, a clear gasp rippled through the quiet crowd.

 

Some people’s minds raced through all the poetry and songs they’d ever learned; others skipped straight to crude exclamations. But no matter the path, everyone’s thoughts converged into one sentence:

 

How can a person be this beautiful!

 

The pallor of illness did nothing to mar his looks-on the contrary, it made his eyes and lips even more striking. Truly, he was a peerless beauty, unmatched in the world.

 

Everyone grew curious: Who is this?

 

With his hand on Chu Zhao’s, Shen Ziqin suspected Chu Zhao really did treat him like a fragile porcelain doll. He could only reason with him: “Your Highness, I really can get in and out of the carriage by myself.”

 

Chu Zhao: “Mm-hmm.”

 

Shen Ziqin: “……”

 

Did you have to be so sincerely perfunctory?

 

A page from the Duke’s residence came forward, bowed, and presented a box, inviting the two to draw lots.

 

It turned out there was a special activity before entering today: drawing couplets. Guests needed to respond with the matching line. Of course, all the invited guests were distinguished, so even if they couldn’t answer, they could still enter. But if you produced a good couplet, it would be the icing on the cake and add to the elegance of the banquet.

 

The couplets weren’t difficult-just simple lines to bring good luck for spring.

 

The page read out the line Chu Zhao drew: “Golden swallows spread their wings to welcome the spring.”

 

Chu Zhao had gone to the northern frontier at fifteen and only returned to the capital a year ago. People knew he was skilled in martial arts, but not what his literary ability was like, so they all perked up to listen.

 

Without blinking, Chu Zhao immediately recited his answer, so smoothly that some people were surprised: Was he also a prince accomplished in both civil and military arts?

 

He replied with confidence: “Salted fish lies flat, waiting out the winter.”

 

Everyone: “……”

 

Some people craned their necks and nearly stumbled; others rubbed their ears to make sure they’d heard right.

 

What kind of answer was that??

 

It’s fine if it’s not clever, but it can’t be so bizarre!

 

The page’s smile froze, and only Shen Ziqin looked up in surprise: Salted fish?

 

Is it the “salted fish” he was thinking of? And paired with “lying flat”-could it really be…?

 

Shen Ziqin felt his heart pound twice, but before he could let his imagination run wild, Chu Zhao said to the page with a perfectly straight face, “I think it’s a good match. Golden swallows are a specialty of Great Qi, and so is salted fish. Plus, many families choose to make it in winter… Why are you looking at me like that, Shizi?”

 

Shen Ziqin’s leaping heart slowly settled, his thoughts cut off before they could take flight.

 

…So it was just a coincidence. Sigh.

 

Shen Ziqin smiled slightly. “It’s nothing, I just think it’s a very clever match.”

 

It really was clever-combining “salted fish” and “lying flat” was a stroke of modern wisdom. He hadn’t expected Chu Zhao to stumble onto such a wonderful metaphor across time.

 

Shen Ziqin thought, maybe he and Chu Zhao would get along quite well.

 

Everyone else just thought: What a waste-such a beautiful person, but such nonsense from his mouth. What’s so clever about that!

 

The page quickly regained his composure and recorded Chu Zhao’s couplet. Next was Shen Ziqin’s turn.

 

The first line: “The garden is full of blossoms, each vying for beauty.”

 

A line like this could hardly be answered wrong.

 

Shen Ziqin didn’t hesitate or ponder, and responded directly: “A cat dozes in spring and naps through summer.”

 

The page: “……”

 

He suspected that if the line were any longer, this lord would have added autumn drowsiness and winter lethargy.

 

Sleeping all year round-how lazy!

 

If only the others understood the “salted fish” joke, they’d realize that Shen Ziqin and Chu Zhao shared the same philosophy:

 

Slack off and dodge work-what happiness!

 

Chu Zhao clapped his hands. “Excellent, excellent.”

 

Shen Ziqin was modest: “You flatter me.”

 

Everyone else was speechless.

 

Chu Zhao stroked his chin: Huh, in this cutthroat capital, could it be that Shen Shizi is the kindred spirit he’s been searching for?

 

 

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