Liu Qiao'er had endured hardship for many years. The twin children she had borne in Prince Yan's Mansion were now grown.
After her daughter Li Yan came of age, she moved out of the palace to establish her own household. Last year, the Emperor married Li Yan off to an official from a humble background, and since then, Li Yan rarely returned to the palace. Liu Qiao'er did not value her daughter much—a married princess was like water spilled on the ground. Moreover, Li Yan was not a favored princess and could bring little benefit to Liu Qiao'er.
All of Liu Qiao'er's attention was focused on her son, Li Chengxun. Among the surviving princes in the harem, he was the eldest.
Unfortunately, after years of Liu Qiao'er's cautious upbringing, Li Chengxun had grown timid, excelling neither in literature nor martial arts. In recent years, he had even become obsessed with woodworking.
Watching Shen Wei's two sons grow stronger day by day, Liu Qiao'er grew increasingly anxious.
"Why is this happening... Has the Emperor not grown tired of Shen Wei yet?" Liu Qiao'er couldn't understand.
She had always believed that Shen Wei would gradually lose favor and that new consorts would replace her. Liu Qiao'er had lurked in the shadows, patiently waiting for Shen Wei to fall into the mud.
She waited and waited.
Year after year.
Liu Qiao'er aged, her beauty fading. No amount of powder could hide the fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Yet Shen Wei remained as radiant as ever, her face showing no signs of aging, her eyes bright and full of energy.
The Emperor, known for his fickleness, had become devoted after meeting Shen Wei.
The Emperor and Empress were harmonious, treating each other with respect.
No new consorts had entered the harem in years. The other concubines, knowing they could not compete with Shen Wei, had given up and instead gathered to play cards, embroider, or play with the children, especially the lively Le You.
Shen Wei was kind-hearted and never schemed against others, so the concubines no longer stirred trouble.
Most of the concubines had no children of their own, and Le You's cheerful nature endeared her to them. When Le You fell ill with a cold two winters ago, nearly every concubine rushed to care for her, some even more anxious than Shen Wei herself.
The harem was peaceful, free of strife. In the history of Da Qing, there had never been such harmony among the imperial consorts.
"Your Highness, a letter from home." A palace maid entered the chamber and handed Liu Qiao'er a letter.
Liu Qiao'er tore open the envelope and read by the dim candlelight.
Her father wrote that the Liu family was collaborating with court officials to drive a wedge between Li Chengtai and Li Chengyou.
Faced with the immense temptation of the throne, even the closest brothers could turn against each other. If the two most outstanding princes became estranged, Liu Qiao'er's son might seize the opportunity.
Liu Qiao'er burned the letter and smiled faintly. "Good. If Shen Wei loses her two sons, let's see how she fights me."
She had remained low-key for years, avoiding the tragic fate of being killed by Lu Xuan in her past life, and had successfully protected her children and family.
Her goal was to see her son ascend the throne! With dreams of a glorious future, Liu Qiao'er drifted into sleep.
...
A few days later, Liu Qiao'er sat under the eaves, mending clothes. She was deeply paranoid, always suspecting that Shen Wei meant to harm her.
After all, her son was the eldest prince and posed the greatest threat to Li Chengtai and Li Chengyou.
Every piece of fabric or clothing sent by the Internal Affairs Office was meticulously inspected. She sewed the garments herself, fearing they might be laced with slow-acting poison.
"Your Highness," her personal maid whispered upon returning from the Internal Affairs Office, "I just heard that the Ninth Prince has fallen ill. The Emperor has sent him to Jiangnan to recuperate."
Liu Qiao'er paused mid-stitch.
A careless slip, and the sharp needle pricked her finger, drawing a bead of blood.
She wiped it away, puzzled. "The Ninth Prince is ill? Impossible."
Among the imperial princes, Li Chengyou was the strongest. He had hardly ever fallen sick, even daring to jump into the icy waters of the imperial garden in winter to catch turtles.
Clearly, this "recuperation" was just an excuse.
Liu Qiao'er rubbed her temples. With Li Chengyou gone to Jiangnan at this critical moment, their plan to divide the brothers would be difficult to execute.
Only the Eighth Prince, Li Chengtai, remained in court.
As she resumed sewing, Liu Qiao'er began plotting how to deal with Li Chengtai. Footsteps approached—her son, Li Chengxun, had returned.
Among the princes, Li Chengxun was the eldest, yet he was neither scholarly nor martial. Raised with Liu Qiao'er's constant warnings to "stay low and endure," he had grown timid, preferring to stay indoors and work on his woodcraft.
"Mother, you're still sewing?" Li Chengxun frowned. "The clothes from the Internal Affairs Office fit well. You needn’t trouble yourself."
Liu Qiao'er replied, "One can never be too cautious."
Li Chengxun sat beside her, noticing the few silver strands in her hair.
After a moment of silence, he gathered his courage. "Mother, I know you and Grandfather have been corresponding. I know you want to help me claim the throne. But... I don’t want to be Emperor."
Li Chengxun wasn’t entirely foolish. He had noticed his mother and the Liu family’s scheming to stir unrest in the court.
In recent years, the Liu family had risen swiftly in rank, fostering dangerous ambitions.
Liu Qiao'er set down her needlework, exasperated. "You are a prince! You have every right to the throne! I’ve endured all these years just for this!"
Li Chengxun pressed his lips together. "But I’m not fit to rule! Eighth Brother is wise and steady, Ninth Brother is strong and capable. Father favors them both. I just want to be a carefree prince, build my own estate, and bring you there as Dowager Consort. A simple life is enough."
Slap!
A sharp blow landed on Li Chengxun’s cheek, leaving a red mark.
Liu Qiao'er trembled with anger. "A carefree prince? Don’t be absurd! Do you think Li Chengtai will spare you once he becomes Emperor?"
Despite the pain, Li Chengxun remained stubborn. "Eighth Brother isn’t like that. The Empress is kind—she treats even the late Consort Shu’s son well. She wouldn’t harm me. The late Empress and Consort Shu both met tragic ends. Must you follow their path? Must the Liu family be sent to the execution block before you stop?"
Liu Qiao'er scolded, "In the imperial family, there is no such thing as brotherly love! You’ve dulled your mind with all that woodworking. After all my years of suffering, I’ve raised nothing but a coward!"
Li Chengxun said nothing.
After the scolding, he silently retreated to his quarters—a separate courtyard filled with wood and tools.
Li Chengxun was no scholar or warrior, but he was a skilled carpenter. His cabinets and stools were sturdy, beautiful, and durable. He could design palaces, reshape gardens, and even modify fountains.
His craftsmanship rivaled that of the palace carpenters.
A quiet soul, Li Chengxun found peace only in woodworking. Lost in his craft, he wanted no part in the struggle for the throne.
But Mother remains stubbornly deluded!
She dares to covet the throne!
Li Chengxun sat restless, consumed by anxiety. His father was strict, the Empress shrewd—there was no way the Emperor and Empress were unaware of Mother’s secret dealings with the Liu family.
Those involved are blind; only outsiders see clearly. The more Li Chengxun dwelled on it, the more his dread grew, cold sweat breaking out across his body. He couldn’t bear to think further, pacing back and forth in his chamber until, at last, he mustered his courage and went to Chang’an Palace to seek an audience with his father.
...
The afternoon was quiet in Chang’an Palace.
Li Yuanjing, seizing a rare moment of leisure and wishing to test Li Chengtai’s capabilities, had left the task of reviewing memorials to him while he retreated to a side hall in Yongning Palace to play chess with Shen Wei.
Over the years, under Li Yuanjing’s meticulous guidance, Shen Wei’s skills in calligraphy, painting, and poetry had soared. Only in chess—no matter how much Li Yuanjing taught her—her game remained abysmal.
Unwilling to concede, Li Yuanjing often cornered Shen Wei, setting up the board to teach her.
"Wait, I take it back!" Shen Wei, holding a black piece, saw one of her stones surrounded by white and quickly pressed Li Yuanjing’s hand, plucking a white piece off the board.
Li Yuanjing chuckled at her antics. "Five takebacks in one game."
Shen Wei placed a black piece down with a defiant snap. "I’ll take back as many as I like. If Your Majesty dislikes it, he can always summon Consort Yu or the others to play instead."
The room was fragrant with subtle incense. Li Yuanjing studied Shen Wei’s delicate features and relented with a sigh. "Fine, I’ll let you move two steps ahead."
They resumed the game.
Half an hour later, the black pieces dwindled on the board, Shen Wei on the verge of defeat. Clutching a black stone, she abruptly changed the subject. "Your Majesty, Chengyou is already on his way to Liangzhou. Before he left, he mentioned that someone at court is sowing discord between him and Chengtai. Has Your Majesty uncovered who they are?"
Li Yuanjing’s hand paused mid-move.
He was well aware of the instigators. A thorough investigation had traced it back to the southern Liu family.
Back when Li Yuanjing was still Prince of Yan, Concubine Qian had conspired with court officials to drive a wedge between him and the Crown Prince, all to secure the throne for Li Yuanli.
Times had changed, but Li Yuanjing would never allow history to repeat itself.
A faint glint of lethality flashed in his eyes. "This matter will be dealt with."
Meanwhile, Shen Wei stealthily pocketed a white piece. Li Yuanjing pretended not to notice.
Footsteps sounded outside. Eunuch Deshun announced respectfully from behind the curtain, "Your Majesty, Empress, the Third Prince requests an audience."
Li Yuanjing set down his white piece. "Let him in."
Soon, Li Chengxun’s slender figure appeared. Head bowed, he murmured, "This son greets Father Emperor and the Empress."
His voice was soft, laced with fear.
Li Chengxun had always been afraid of his father.
In his memory, the Emperor was stern and imposing, his gaze severe. Whenever Li Chengxun faltered even slightly in archery or horsemanship during training, he faced his father’s reprimands.
He wished to excel, to avoid disappointing his father. But he had no love for martial arts or scholarly pursuits. Growing up in such a stifling environment, he preferred solitude, quietly working on his own.
"Rise, take a seat." Shen Wei, ever gentle, motioned for Eunuch Deshun to bring a rosewood chair while discreetly swiping another piece from the board.
Li Chengxun obediently sat.
Li Yuanjing studied him. "What is it?"
The deep, resonant voice struck Li Chengxun like the roar of a dragon, tightening his throat and weakening his knees. He suddenly regretted coming.
But thoughts of his mother’s actions steeled him. Summoning every ounce of courage, he dropped to his knees. "Father, I beg you to spare Mother! She—she acted foolishly, entertaining thoughts she shouldn’t have. Punish me instead, but do not condemn her."
Silence filled the room.
Shen Wei exchanged a glance with Li Yuanjing. "I shall retire first," she offered.
Matters of state required her to feign detachment—lest Li Yuanjing suspect her of meddling in governance.
Li Yuanjing caught her wrist before she could flee, arching a brow. "The game isn’t over. Don’t think you can slip away."
Shen Wei suppressed an eye-roll and pretended to study the board, filching another white piece.
"You are the eldest among the princes. Your mother has always been reserved, seldom stepping out—yet even she harbors such delusions." Li Yuanjing’s voice was icy.
Li Chengxun lowered his head, sweat beading on his forehead.
His heart pounded wildly!
Father already knew! Of course—nothing escaped the Emperor’s notice. Mother had been naive to think otherwise.
Stammering, Li Chengxun said, "I know my talents pale next to my younger brothers, so I’ve never dreamed of the throne. But no matter how I pleaded, Mother wouldn’t listen. I had no choice but to beg for your mercy."
Li Yuanjing scoffed.
Li Chengxun trembled.
"Concubine Qiao’er and the Liu family will be dealt with," Li Yuanjing said coldly. "But you—knowing your shortcomings, you make no effort to improve. Hiding away, fiddling with wood like a common craftsman—is this how a prince of Da Qing behaves?"
Li Chengxun hunched his shoulders. "I truly enjoy woodworking..."
"Audacious!" Li Yuanjing snapped. "Every prince of Da Qing is versed in both civil and martial arts, destined to serve the court. What future is there in whittling wood?"
Li Chengxun fell silent.
Shen Wei, observing this, handed Li Yuanjing a cup of tea and interceded gently, "The Third Prince is kind-hearted. He neither chases women nor wealth, nor mistreats servants. I’ve always thought him a good child. Last year, for Le You’s birthday, he crafted her a sandalwood dressing table—exquisitely made. She adored it."
Over the years, Shen Wei had quietly observed the princes.
Li Chengxun was gentle by nature, indifferent to power and luxury, though obsessed with carpentry.
She had seen his handiwork—each piece was a marvel.
"Since when does a prince spend his days as a carpenter?" Li Yuanjing frowned, though his expression softened slightly.
Li Chengxun, drenched in sweat, instinctively glanced at Shen Wei for help.
He knew—if the Empress spoke, his father would listen.
Catching his plea, Shen Wei said softly, "Last year, when a palace hall in the eastern gardens collapsed, the repairs were complex. It was the Third Prince who proposed the solution and even drafted the blueprints himself."
"Beams, bridges, dams—all require master craftsmen. In the future, the Third Prince could serve in the Ministry of Works. There, his talents would flourish."
No one is useless—only misplaced.
