One was willing to celebrate the success of all imperial examination scholars, while the other... cared only for his own reputation.
The crowd's gazes subtly shifted between Song Shihuan and Song Yanzheng, inwardly marveling at how Princess Fu'an enjoyed such imperial favor—clearly, it wasn’t merely due to her resemblance to the late Empress Yuan.
By now, Song Yanzheng’s eyes were reddened, and Censor Han had shrunk into his seat like a quail, neither daring to utter another word.
"Good. Ah-Huan, your magnanimity pleases Us greatly," the Emperor declared.
Inside the palace, the birthday banquet continued with song and dance, while outside, the Qin Prince's Mansion hosted a feast for the commonfolk, who flocked to share in Princess Fu'an’s joyous occasion.
"The feast will last three days. No need to rush—there’s enough for everyone," Baoxia announced, arms crossed as she stood guard at the mansion’s gates.
"We can’t just take without giving. Here are some eggs from our hens—for the Princess to nourish herself."
"Fresh greens from our garden. The elders say a balanced diet ensures a healthy life."
"Home-raised chicken. We heard the Prince and Princess enjoy it..."
After partaking in the feast, the people left their humble offerings outside the mansion. By midday, a small mountain of "gifts" had piled up.
When Song Yu and Song Shihuan returned and saw this, father and daughter stood frozen in astonishment.
The crowd outside surged forward, cheering, "Happy birthday, Princess!"
"Thank you, everyone! Eat and drink to your hearts’ content!"
Song Shihuan beamed, unable to contain her joy. Once inside, she tugged at Song Yu’s sleeve.
"Father, this is the happiest birthday I’ve ever had."
......
The next morning, Song Yu and Song Shihuan were having breakfast.
"The provincial exams are next April. Father can prepare in the capital—with Minister Shen’s guidance, you’ll surely make rapid progress," Song Shihuan said between sips of porridge. "Minister Ye has also sent more study materials to the Guo residence."
Song Yu nodded. He had indeed planned to stay in the capital for his studies. The further one advanced in the imperial exams, the more crucial Shen Mingwen’s tutelage became.
As they chatted, Liuxi’s voice rang out: "Your Highness, Princess, Young Master Shen is here."
"Quick, invite him in!" Song Shihuan said eagerly.
Her eyes sparkled at the sight of Shen Qingping. Over the past few months, her tutor’s transformation had astonished her—he now carried himself like a formidable statesman, commanding both awe and respect.
"Nanny, bring another set of bowls and chopsticks."
Watching Song Shihuan warmly invite Shen Qingping to join them, Song Yu snorted. "What? Does the Shen family not feed you?"
Shen Qingping silently took a seat, picked up his chopsticks, and began eating without a word.
Song Yu and Song Shihuan exchanged glances. Something was off.
"My elder brother and his wife are returning to the capital with their children. The mansion is in chaos preparing their quarters," Shen Qingping muttered, his downcast eyes betraying his melancholy.
Shen Qinghui, the eldest son of the Shen family?
Song Shihuan’s gaze flickered. She knew little about him.
"Your brother is unbearably rigid, always prattling about the Shen family’s reputation," Song Yu grumbled. "He used to scold you for tarnishing it, but now that you outrank him, he can’t possibly keep up that nonsense."
Shen Qingping gave a wry smile. "Let’s hope so."
He then handed Song Yu a booklet detailing the intricate power networks within the Great Qi court.
"Though Your Highness enjoys imperial favor, until the crown prince is officially named, caution is paramount."
The Ping Prince's Mansion, Prince Chu's Mansion, and Prince Qi's Mansion might appear obedient, but each harbored their own schemes and alliances.
"Oh, I forgot to mention—Father has already entrusted me with the seal of the crown prince."
Clatter—
Shen Qingping’s chopsticks fell to the floor.
"Such crucial news, and you ‘forgot’ to tell me?"
Song Yu’s expression turned sheepish. "How about I show you the seal?"
Shen Qingping smirked. "Gladly."
Had he known the seal was already in Song Yu’s hands, he would’ve disposed of those meddlesome factions without hesitation.
......
Though Song Yu had nominally taken charge of the Ministry of Revenue, Ministry of Rites, and Ministry of War upon returning to the capital, real authority remained with Shen Qingping. Song Yu, meanwhile, focused solely on his exam preparations in the Qin Prince's Mansion.
In the courtyard, Song Shihuan played the zither, her fingers gliding gracefully.
Leaning against a corridor pillar, Shen Qingping watched her, his dark robes amplifying his imposing aura—yet his gaze softened whenever it landed on her.
"I thought the Princess might be rusty after so long."
"My skills were taught by my tutor. I must always play flawlessly, lest I tarnish his reputation. The same goes for others."
His reputation...
Understanding her implication, Shen Qingping chuckled.
"Thank you, Princess."
Song Shihuan rose and approached him, her expression solemn. "You’ve shielded our mansion tirelessly. If anyone dares speak ill of you—even if they’re family—the Qin Prince's Mansion will not stand idly by."
She had investigated Shen Qinghui. The eldest son, born before Shen Mingwen achieved his top scholar rank, had endured poverty in his youth, making the Shen family’s honor his life’s creed.
To him, Shen Qingping—the spoiled youngest son—was a constant source of disgrace, chastised relentlessly, even publicly.
Hearing her words, Shen Qingping’s eyes reddened.
"Tomorrow, when he arrives, I’ll greet him at the city gates with my parents."
......
The next day, at the capital’s entrance.
Lady Shen anxiously peered down the road. "Weren’t they supposed to arrive by now? Where are they?"
After three years apart, Shen Mingwen and Lady Shen waited eagerly, while Shen Qingping remained impassive—until his gaze suddenly sharpened, darting toward a spot on the city wall.
The Prince and Princess were here!
Instantly, his restlessness melted away, and he resumed his usual unshakable composure—the very demeanor that struck fear into the hearts of court officials.
Soon, a carriage rolled into view.
A young boy, carrying his little sister, leaped out first, waving. "Grandfather! Grandmother!"
Shen Qinghui and Madam Lin followed, moving to kneel in respect, but Lady Shen stopped them.
"No need for formalities. You’re home—that’s all that matters."
After three years, even Shen Qinghui’s eyes brimmed with emotion—until they settled on Shen Qingping.
Recalling the rumors he’d heard during his journey, his brow furrowed.
