"Little Pig Ming, the way you're looking at me seems off—do you think I'm drunk?"
"Your Highness appears graceful and clear-minded right now. How could you possibly be drunk?" Jiuzhu denied it outright, lightly scratching his palm with her fingers.
"Fine." Prince Chen lowered his gaze to their intertwined hands and obediently followed Jiuzhu, though he occasionally muttered under his breath, still sulking over not being able to bask in the moonlight.
"Chunfen." Jiuzhu whispered a few words into Chunfen's ear. "I’ll trouble you with this."
Chunfen chuckled. "Rest assured, Your Highness. I’ll see it done." With that, she curtsied to Prince Chen and Jiuzhu before hurrying off.
"Your Highness, shall we take the palanquin back?"
"No palanquin." Prince Chen shook his head slowly, his cheeks slightly flushed, carrying the stubbornness unique to a young man.
"Alright, we won’t take it." Jiuzhu didn’t let go of Prince Chen’s hand. The eunuchs and maids carrying lanterns walked silently beside them, heads bowed, not daring to make a sound.
"Little Pig Ming." His fingers tightened around hers, entwined with endless tenderness. "I’m happy."
"Hmm?"
Prince Chen laughed—a laugh tinged with contentment and a hint of foolishness. "I’m happy to be married to you."
"That day, you looked beautiful wearing the vine-patterned hairpin." His smile grew smug. "And when you told Zheng Wangnan that his taste was vulgar, you were adorable."
"So Your Highness was in the shop that day." Jiuzhu recalled her first trip to the capital’s market with her sixth brother, when the Zheng heir had dismissed the vine-patterned hairpin as tacky.
"I remember Your Highness wearing a purple robe that day." Jiuzhu smiled. "Your presence made everything else fade into the background."
He had ridden in on a white horse, becoming the most striking sight on the street.
Back then, she hadn’t known this elegant young man was the one she’d been searching for—her long-awaited savior.
"So in your eyes, I’m the most handsome?"
Jiuzhu nodded. "Your Highness is the most handsome, and the best."
A wide, delighted grin spread across Prince Chen’s face.
"Climb on." Prince Chen suddenly bent down. "I’ll carry you."
"Your Highness…" Jiuzhu hesitated.
"You still think I’m drunk?"
My dear prince, you truly are drunk.
Jiuzhu leaned onto his back. "I just don’t want to tire you."
"You weigh nothing. How could you tire me?" Though intoxicated, Prince Chen held her firmly.
Jiuzhu was certain that even if he stumbled, he’d shield her with his own body.
"I regret it." The wind rustled Prince Chen’s robes, making his voice seem distant.
"When we first met, I shouldn’t have let you leave alone." Night and wine had a way of loosening the words buried deepest in one’s heart.
"I should’ve carried you back to the capital, just like this. Dressed you in the finest clothes, adorned you with the best jewelry." His voice brimmed with aching tenderness. "Wherever I am, no one would dare slight you."
Jiuzhu rested her head against his shoulder, quietly listening as he painted visions of a perfect future.
"The best rice cakes are in the eastern city, the best noodles in the western…"
She smiled, eyes closed, listening to his voice and the whisper of the wind.
At the gates of Kirin Palace, a moon-shaped lantern hung.
Prince Chen, still carrying Jiuzhu, stopped and looked up at the round lantern. "What’s that?"
"That’s the moon I’m giving you." Jiuzhu slid off his back and pulled him down to sit on the steps beneath it. "If Your Highness wants to bask in moonlight, I’ll keep you company."
The lantern swayed gently, their shadows merging into a single, rounded shape.
"No… no moon." The drunken prince rested his head on Jiuzhu’s shoulder.
"What does Your Highness want, then?" Jiuzhu adjusted her posture to make him more comfortable.
"I want…"
"You—to sit here with me under the moonlight."
The lantern creaked as it swung. Prince Chen drifted to sleep against Jiuzhu, who gazed at his peaceful face and softly laughed.
"Of course."
Late into the night, Xiangjuan arrived at Kirin Palace to find Prince Chen already asleep.
"Aunt Xiangjuan." Jiuzhu emerged, her thick black hair loose around her shoulders. "You’ve come all this way so late—thank you."
"Her Majesty heard the princes had been drinking and sent me to check."
Prince Chen rarely drank to excess. In the past, the Empress would always send someone to watch over him. But tonight, standing in Kirin Palace, Xiangjuan realized that from now on, Her Majesty needn’t worry—Prince Chen was his wife’s responsibility.
"His Highness is already asleep." Jiuzhu lowered her voice with a smile. "He’s very well-behaved when drunk."
Well-behaved?
What kind of delusion was the Princess Consort under?
Even as the Empress’s personal maid, Xiangjuan couldn’t bring herself to call Prince Chen "well-behaved" without lying. Yet the Princess Consort said it effortlessly.
"With you caring for His Highness, I needn’t worry." Noting Jiuzhu had already removed her makeup, Xiangjuan rose to leave. "I won’t disturb your rest. Goodnight."
"It’s dark out—please be careful." Jiuzhu handed her a lantern and summoned two eunuchs to escort her.
Xiangjuan was deeply moved. As a mere maid, she hardly deserved such consideration.
After years in the palace, she could distinguish sincerity from pretense. The Princess Consort genuinely worried for her safety on the way back to Bright Moon Palace.
"Your Highness, that lantern truly resembles the moon." She glanced up at the round lantern hanging above the gate. "When His Highness was six or seven, confined to the old residence, summer nights were stifling. Her Majesty would coax him to sleep in the courtyard, saying the Moon Goddess would bless him if he basked in her light."
"Forgive me—rambling about things from over a decade ago." Xiangjuan smiled apologetically. "You should rest, Your Highness."
"Take care, Aunt." Jiuzhu pressed the lantern into her hands. "The path is dark—keep this with you."
Xiangjuan accepted it without protest and departed with the two eunuchs.
"Someone," Jiuzhu called, still gazing at the lantern, "take this down and hang it outside our bedchamber."
Let the Moon Goddess always watch over His Highness.
Outside the capital’s magistrate office, Du Qingke stepped through the gates.
He still wore the same embroidered robe from the day of his arrest—now wrinkled and reeking of sweat.
Fortunately, the night concealed his wretched state.
"Master!" A servant rushed forward to help him into the carriage.
Once inside, Du Qingke’s composure shattered. His face darkened with fury.
Those useless noble brats had bungled everything, and now their crimes were exposed.
Had he known they’d fail so spectacularly, he’d never have allied himself with their families for the sake of their resources.
At least he’d already secured their connections. They were of no further use.
Thinking of the humiliations he’d endured in prison, he tore off the filthy robe. "Prince An… Prince Chen!"
Especially Prince Chen. His lackeys seemed omniscient, thwarting every scheme the noble families had devised.
If it weren’t for the fact that he had never trusted those incompetent fools or participated in their misdeeds, he might not have walked out of the Capital Prefecture’s gates alive.
Though he managed to leave, he still had to pay a fine of one hundred taels of silver—the Capital Prefect showed no mercy, even to the head of a noble family.
“Who is in this carriage? The Imperial Guards are conducting a night patrol. Please cooperate with our inspection.”
Imperial Guards?
Du Qingke lifted the carriage curtain. “It’s me.”
He recognized them at once—they were the same Imperial Guards who had escorted them to the Capital Prefecture that day.
Who was this?
Yu Jian detected a tone of confidence in the man’s voice, as if he was certain the Imperial Guards would know him.
But…
Who was this disheveled, middle-aged man with unkempt hair, wrinkled robes, and shoes covered in dust?
“And you are?” Yu Jian studied the man’s messy beard for a moment before cupping his hands in a polite gesture. “Please present your identification.”
“I am Du Qingke.” Du Qingke handed over his identity token.
“Ah.” Yu Jian drew out the syllable, nodding repeatedly. “Now that you mention it, you do look somewhat familiar.”
Just a few days ago, the head of the Du family had been the picture of elegance and refinement. Yet after only a short time in prison, he had been reduced to this state?
It just went to show—no matter how dignified and cultured one appeared, it all depended on having attendants to maintain that image.
“Master Du, you may proceed.” Yu Jian returned the identity token and guided his horse aside.
“My thanks.” Du Qingke gave Yu Jian a long, inscrutable look before lowering the curtain.
Yu Jian raised an eyebrow. What had that look meant?
Holding a grudge?
“Du Qingke has been released. What about the other family heads?” Yu Jian asked the men behind him.
“The two who abducted women and beat a man to death were sentenced to execution. The others were exiled. As for Du Qingke, since he wasn’t involved and the Capital Prefecture found no evidence linking him to the crimes, they let him go.”
“However, the Prefect fined him one hundred taels for failing to report what he knew.”
That was one hundred taels of silver—not a mere hundred copper coins.
Had Du Qingke truly played no part in those crimes?
Yu Jian didn’t believe it.
But the law required evidence. Even if everyone suspected Du Qingke, without proof, the authorities could do nothing.
“I heard Du Qingke is also the elder uncle of the Third Prince’s consort. Boss, since we were the ones who sent him to the Prefecture a few days ago, do you think he’ll come after us?”
“What’s there to fear? It wasn’t us who turned him in—it was Prince Chen and Prince An.” At the mention of Prince Chen, Yu Jian felt a flicker of trust. “Would he dare seek revenge against two imperial princes?”
“He wouldn’t dare touch the princes, but he might come for us.”
Yu Jian: “…”
If only they could become Prince Chen’s lackeys—then they wouldn’t have to worry about Du Qingke’s retaliation.
The sentencing documents for the noble family heads, which included executions, had to be submitted to the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review for final approval.
The Ministry of Justice wasted no time—they stamped their seal without discussion, endorsing the Capital Prefecture’s verdict.
At the Court of Judicial Review, however, there was some debate—though most of it consisted of curses directed at the family heads.
“Their ancestors were once illustrious—how could they stoop to such depravity?”
“Keeping young girls captive? And this beast only gets exiled?”
“I agree. This one should be executed too.”
After further deliberation, another name was added to the execution list.
“Brother Jiyuan.” An official handed Ming Jiyuan a copy of the victim’s testimony. “It was Prince Chen’s consort who saved this woman’s life.”
“What?” Ming Jiyuan took the document and read through it.
[The woman sought to end her life by leaping from a cliff, but Prince Chen’s consort, moved by compassion, reached out and saved her.]
“Prince Chen’s consort acted with righteousness, sparing this poor woman’s life.” The official sighed. “To ensure she wouldn’t face severe punishment, Prince Chen even arranged for physicians to keep the assaulted family head alive. Such thoughtfulness.”
Had the family head died before the sentencing, the law would have demanded the woman’s life in return.
Prince Chen, it seemed, was more compassionate than people gave him credit for.
“My younger sister is delicate and frail. Who would have thought that in a moment of crisis, she could summon such strength?”
The Ming family—frail and scholarly to the last!
