In the Palace of Eternal Longevity, a scene of languid indulgence unfolded—bodies draped in silk, the air thick with decadent melodies. The Emperor sat with closed eyes, his hand lightly swaying to the rhythm.
In a corner, a musician’s sweat dripped down his forehead, sliding along the strings of his instrument.
Suddenly, the slumbering lion opened his eyes, cold and devoid of emotion.
“A wrong note. Take him away.”
The hall fell silent, save for the hushed footsteps and breaths of the palace attendants.
“Your Majesty.”
The grand eunuch Wang Nian gestured, and the room emptied.
“Your Majesty, the Tartar envoys have arrived in Shangjing. The Second Prince personally greeted them at the city gates yesterday.”
“And Xiao Youcheng?”
“The Prince of Kang arrived the day before yesterday. He sought an audience yesterday, but you were occupied with the purification rites with Master Yuxu, so he was not summoned. Afterward, he visited the Eastern Palace and then paid respects to Consort Xian.”
The Emperor opened his eyes, a faint glimmer piercing their murky depths.
“Summon the Prince of Kang.”
“As you command!”
Wang Nian bowed deeply and retreated.
Three years had passed in a blink. The Emperor studied Xiao Youcheng kneeling before him—once a child who barely reached his chest, now nearly his height.
“You’ve grown taller. Have you been keeping up with your studies?”
“Your son has not read much recently. Instead, I’ve taken an interest in agriculture—planting melons yields melons, sowing beans yields beans. It’s quite fascinating.”
The Emperor chuckled.
“I heard you led officials in Yingchuan to construct waterwheels, averting a drought. You’ve done well.”
“I dare not claim credit. Without Your Majesty’s divine wisdom and the heavens’ blessings, Yingchuan would not have been so fortunate. I’ve brought the waterwheel designs as an offering—may Your Majesty’s reign endure eternally, and your life be boundless.”
The Emperor laughed heartily. “Splendid! On behalf of the people, I thank you!”
He had expected Xiao Youcheng to reserve such a gift for his birthday banquet, using it to court favor with the courtiers. This unexpected gesture eased the tension in his brow.
“Did you encounter the Tartar envoys on your return to the capital?”
Cold sweat prickled Xiao Youcheng’s back.
“We stayed at the same relay station, but our paths did not cross. I never saw them.”
“Hmm. What do you make of the Tartars sending a prince and princess with tribute?”
“Your son suspects they seek peace through marriage, to secure harmony between our borders.”
“A reasonable thought. The Crown Prince often speaks of you. Now that you’re back, spend time with him.”
“As Your Majesty commands.”
Only after leaving the Hall of Mental Cultivation did Xiao Youcheng exhale fully, replaying the exchange in his mind. Finding no missteps, he turned toward the palace gates.
Many shared his speculation about the Tartars’ intentions. In recent nights, the princesses’ palaces burned their candles later than usual.
At the Second Prince’s residence, Xiao You'an twisted a string of prayer beads, his expression dark.
He had planned to host the Tartar envoys and the Xiao generals, but both refused—the generals citing their audience with the Emperor tomorrow, while the Tartar princess dismissed him with a curt “I’m tired” before retreating to her quarters. The audacity!
Very well.
Time flew, and soon it was the fifteenth of November. Lu Chao rose early, joining the bustling streets with Liu Yao. Drums and gongs clamored; households hung lanterns, brewed wine, and celebrated as if it were New Year’s.
As temple bells tolled—
“Quick! The auspicious hour for the ancestral rites!”
Before Lu Chao could react, Liu Yao tugged him to his knees. The crowd followed, prostrating toward the palace, voices rising in unison:
“Long live the Emperor! May heaven and earth prosper! May the nation thrive in peace!”
The people’s fervent devotion struck Lu Chao like the reverberating bells.
Outside, revelry roared; inside the Forbidden City, lights blazed, and music swelled.
At Chonghua Palace, Xiao Youcheng’s entrance drew every official’s gaze—this was the infamous Prince of Kang, absent from court for three years.
During the morning rites, distance obscured him, but now, up close, his sharp features and commanding presence betrayed his royal blood.
A piercing stare made Xiao Youcheng turn—his Second Brother, Xiao You'an.
Playing the gracious elder before the court, Xiao You'an raised a cup and approached.
Xiao Youcheng met his gaze briefly, then strode away.
Humiliation flushed Xiao You'an’s face. After a stiff pause, he forced a laugh for the officials.
“Still childish despite his years. Forgive my brother’s rudeness.”
The ministers coughed awkwardly. “Youthful temper, haha! We understand.”
Since his exile to the fiefdom, Xiao Youcheng had stayed clear of succession struggles. Now, sipping tea alone, he observed the banquet coldly.
Behind Xiao You'an stood Murong You, heir to Prime Minister Murong, and Shen Shizhi of the Court of State Ceremonial.
The Fourth Prince’s entourage included the Vice Minister of Rites’ son, while the six-year-old Fifth Prince nibbled sweets beside his tutor—likely the Grand Secretary’s grandson.
Zhou Sanwei had briefed Xiao Youcheng with years of court bulletins. He knew the players well.
A commotion erupted at the door. The Second and Fourth Princes rushed to greet a group in foreign garb—among them, a veiled woman, unmistakably Princess Baya.
Xiao Youcheng’s gaze shifted to two towering men in armor, instantly swarmed by well-wishers.
“The Xiao family has guarded Great Yuan’s northwest for years, shielding our borders. A blessing to the realm!”
Xiao Yi and Xiao Yan exchanged glances, bowing humbly toward the throne.
Before more pleasantries, a eunuch’s voice cut through:
“The Crown Prince arrives.”
All turned to the frail figure in a python robe—sunken cheeks, yet eyes still gentle. A pity.
Silence descended as officials straightened their robes, eyes fixed on the entrance. The Crown Prince’s arrival heralded the Emperor’s.
Sure enough, Wang Nian’s voice boomed:
“The Emperor approaches!”
“Long live the Emperor!”
“Rise, my lords.”
In high spirits, the Emperor drank deeply. Midway, his gaze softened at the Crown Prince.
“The Crown Prince mustn’t catch chill. Give him my robe.”
For a heartbeat, the hall froze.
"Your son is terrified! This is against protocol!"
The Crown Prince attempted to rise, only to be pressed back down by the Emperor.
"Ruler and subject, father and son—I am your father. What harm is there in draping a robe over my son?"
The ministers exchanged uneasy glances, uncertain what scheme the Emperor was plotting this time, their gazes flickering toward the Second Prince, Xiao You'an, across the hall.
Xiao You'an maintained a stiff smile, outwardly unshaken, though his molars clenched in secret.
Xiao Youcheng cast a worried glance at the Crown Prince, then locked eyes with Zhou Sanwei before lowering his head.
As flutes and pipes swelled in harmonious crescendo, the long-awaited birthday tribute commenced. The courtiers presented rare treasures in celebration—gold, jade, pearls, agate, and rhinoceros horns—pushing the banquet into a fevered climax.
When it came to the Tatars' turn, the crowd stared in bewilderment at the empty palace gates before turning to Princess Baya, who had risen to her feet.
"The Tatar Kingdom offers a treasure to wish the Emperor of Great Yuan boundless longevity!"
With a flourish, Princess Baya drew a brocaded box from her sleeve.
"What is this?" someone blurted out.
"It is called the Revival Elixir, a cure for all poisons," Princess Baya declared with a smirk, her eyes locking onto the Crown Prince.
"The Crown Prince suffers from a rare toxin. Only this medicine can save him."
A deathly hush fell over the hall. Even the musicians froze mid-note.
The Crown Prince... was poisoned?!
