Li Yuanjing felt deeply content.
He still remembered the days at Prince Yan's Mansion when Shen Wei was as innocent as a blank sheet of paper—unversed in schemes, unfamiliar with the intrigues of the inner household, knowing only how to love him with foolish devotion.
Later, as time passed by his side, under Li Yuanjing’s guidance, Shen Wei learned the art of self-preservation. The flower he had nurtured with his own hands was now blooming in full splendor.
“That won’t do. This concubine must also play a trick on Your Majesty,” Shen Wei said, her eyes curving into crescents.
Li Yuanjing raised a brow, intrigued. “What trick?”
Shen Wei tugged at his belt with her slender, pale fingers, her voice laced with playful pride. “The beauty trap.”
The candlelight seeped through the sheer gauze of the bed curtains, casting a glow upon the picturesque beauty beneath.
Shen Wei’s eyes slanted slightly at the corners, her lips a tempting red. Her pale sleeping robe slipped off her shoulders, revealing smooth, jade-like skin that seemed to carry a faint, alluring fragrance.
Utterly captivating.
Li Yuanjing’s throat tightened, his voice rough. “Then this emperor willingly falls into your trap.”
The night breeze stirred, rustling the newly sprouted pink lotus buds in the courtyard. The koi in the pond leaped with a splash. The night was still long.
...
By dawn the next day, Shen Wei remained curled in bed, fast asleep. Li Yuanjing, already dressed, stood by the bedside for a moment, watching her lazy slumber with boundless satisfaction.
He left the bedchamber quietly.
After breakfast, Li Yuanjing strolled through the vegetable garden. The eggplants he had planted bore fruit, the tomatoes were plump and red, and a few cucumbers had sprouted.
He planned to sow some radish seeds soon—Le You was particularly fond of sweet radish soup.
Li Yuanjing departed for the morning court session while Shen Wei dozed for another half-hour before leisurely rising to dress. As she changed, she pondered: earning merit solely through the empress’s favor was insufficient. To cultivate a reputation of virtue, she needed to win over the noblewomen of the capital.
Thus, Shen Wei set her plans into motion.
She did not deliberately court the ladies of the great noble families. Instead, she focused on the wives of low-ranking officials, scholars, and military officers. Under the guise of the dowager empress’s authority, she occasionally hosted gatherings—chatting about household affairs, sharing beauty tips, and enjoying tea and wine.
Beyond this, Shen Wei took up the charitable work once led by Princess Zhao Yang, continuing to shelter orphans at Anguo Temple. Children with academic promise were tutored by hired scholars, while those less inclined to study were apprenticed to shops under Shopkeeper Ye’s arrangement.
Whenever disaster struck any county in Qing State, Shen Wei spearheaded frugality campaigns in the palace, sending the saved silver to afflicted regions.
Through these efforts, her reputation among the people flourished.
...
In the Southern Chu palace, the former Prince Heng of Qing had now ascended as Emperor Li Yuanli.
In the imperial garden, clusters of roses bloomed in abundance. Li Yuanli casually tossed the diplomatic missive into the pond.
Splash—
The document from the Eastern Lin State shattered the water’s surface with a clear ripple.
“A petty nation with no honor,” Li Yuanli remarked lazily, sipping tea. At his feet, a plump white fox lay curled in deep slumber, claws tucked neatly away.
The official who had delivered the missive stood trembling, not daring to breathe.
Originally, Southern Chu had planned a military alliance with Eastern Lin to attack Qing’s southern territories.
But Eastern Lin had reneged, submitting a letter severing ties—claiming coercion from Qing and abandoning their pact.
Qing had spread word of their intent to construct dams along the tributaries of the Mingyuan River’s upper reaches.
Dam-building was once a formidable task, but a century ago, Princess Taihua had devised an innovative method that simplified the process while allowing water flow regulation. With this technique, dams were no longer an insurmountable challenge.
Eastern Lin had not anticipated such a maneuver. Most of their farmland relied on this lifeline river. If its waters dwindled, the nation would face ruin.
Thus, Eastern Lin submitted, content to remain a vassal state and stir no further trouble.
In the garden pavilion, Li Yuanli twirled a white jade cup between his fingers, a smirk playing on his lips. “Whose wretched idea was it to dam the river?”
If he couldn’t kill Li Yuanjing yet, he’d settle for the official behind this scheme.
The minister bowed, voice quivering. “Our spies in Yanjing report it was the Eighth Prince of Qing who proposed it.”
Li Yuanli hummed, puzzled. “The Eighth Prince?”
The minister continued nervously, “The Eighth Prince is Consort Chen’s son. Her elder brother is Shen Mieyue.”
Li Yuanli inhaled sharply, Shen Wei’s cunning, enchanting face flashing before his eyes.
Like mother, like son!
Shen Wei was shrewd, and her child was just as devious.
The minister ventured cautiously, “Your Majesty, our assassins in Yanjing are ready. With your command, the Eighth Prince will be dead within ten days.”
Li Yuanli set down his cup. “No need. The child is young.”
The minister gaped.
The ruthless emperor, known for his mercilessness, had shown mercy to a child?
Then Li Yuanli murmured, as if to himself, “That woman is clever. Her son won’t be easy to kill.”
The breeze stirred, rustling the roses in full bloom.
Li Yuanli rose, nudging the sleeping fox with his foot. The plump creature awoke with a snarl, lunging to sink its teeth into his gold-threaded jade boots.
Shallow bite marks lined the edges.
The minister’s eye twitched. This blood-soaked emperor, who had clawed his way to the throne through carnage, kept a temperamental white fox as a pet.
Li Yuanli stretched. “If war is off the table, we’ll settle for peace.”
It had been too long since he last saw Yanjing. He missed home.
He would find the right moment to return—to visit his dear second brother, Li Yuanjing.
And to see the familiar landscapes and beauties of his homeland once more.
...
Time flowed quietly. Shen Wei remained diligent in her pursuit of virtue, steadily polishing her reputation.
By the eighth month, the heat was sweltering. The Guangwen Hall was cooled with ample ice, making the pavilion bearable.
The day’s lessons had ended. Yang Xuanji sat at his desk, composing texts. Li Chengtai practiced calligraphy at a rosewood table, while Li Chengyou sprawled on a mat, fast asleep.
“Master Yang, Consort Chen has come to visit the young princes,” an official announced.
Yang Xuanji set down his book. Li Chengtai put aside his brush and kicked his napping brother awake.
Shen Wei entered with Cai Ping, smiling warmly. “The heat is unbearable today. I’ve brought some watermelon for you all.”
Li Chengyou rubbed his bleary eyes and scrambled up. “Thank you, Mother! I love watermelon!”
He dashed over eagerly.
Cai Ping opened the food box, revealing chilled watermelon slices. She placed them on the table and began cutting. Li Chengyou grabbed the largest piece and offered it earnestly. “Mother, you first.”
Shen Wei shook her head. “I’ve already had some.”
Li Chengyou turned and handed the slice to Yang Xuanji instead. “For you, Master.”
Li Chengyou handed the watermelon slice to Yang Xuanji before turning back to pick up his own. Li Chengtai tilted his little head, clearly displeased with his younger brother’s actions. "Chengyou, why didn’t you bring one for me?"
Li Chengyou buried his face in the watermelon, mumbling between bites, "I wouldn’t dare take yours. Get it yourself."
The summer heat was relentless, making the chilled watermelon taste even sweeter and more refreshing. Juice dripped down Li Chengyou’s cheeks as he devoured his slice.
Li Chengtai wasn’t particularly fond of watermelon and only took a small bite.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something odd—Shen Wei’s right hand was wrapped in white cotton cloth, as if injured.
"Mother Consort," Li Chengtai exclaimed, "what happened to your hand?"
