"The temperament of the Gu Family's women must be as fiery as Gu Zheng's. Other methods won't work." The Successor Empress's eyes gleamed with calculation. "After much thought, I've concluded there's only one effective approach."
"Your daughter-in-law is eager to hear your wisdom."
"A hero saving a beauty."
The Successor Empress's smile sent a chill down the Crown Princess's spine as she continued, "I've had people investigate. Miss Gu fears water. If she were to accidentally fall into a lake and coincidentally be rescued by Yan Zheng, it would make for a splendid tale."
"Your Majesty's plan is impeccable." The Crown Princess forced a smile, though her eyes remained cold.
"Some arrangements are best made discreetly. Lixian, I leave this matter to you."
As she stepped out of the room, the Crown Princess cast a meaningful glance at Shen Hua'er, who stood beside Song Xiyan.
"Eunuch Chen, has Miss Shen been visiting frequently?"
Chen Chi hesitated before replying, "Your Highness, Miss Shen often accompanies the Second Princess. Her presence has greatly lifted the Second Princess's spirits."
Then, as if offhandedly, he added, "She’s also crossed paths with the Eldest Imperial Grandson a few times. From what this servant observed, His Highness seems quite willing to converse with her."
"I see."
The Crown Princess nodded and departed Kunning Palace.
"Your Highness, what did Eunuch Chen mean by that?" her attendant couldn't help but ask. "Could Miss Shen have ulterior motives?"
"She’s too inexperienced to hide her ambitions." The Crown Princess replied coolly. "Her Majesty was using Chen Chi’s words to remind me—to deal with Shen Hua'er before she disrupts the birthday banquet."
Upon returning to the Eastern Palace, the Crown Princess meticulously detailed the Successor Empress's scheme across several pages, then tucked them into a music score.
"Have Xiao Xiazi deliver this to Prince Qin personally. Tell him that when Princess Fu'an sought my guidance on music, I found this score among my belongings."
......
After ignoring the Ministry of War for six days, Song Yu finally deigned to visit—only after relentless pestering from Shen Qingping.
Truthfully, Shen Qingping was at his wit's end.
Song Yu had deliberately interrupted his lessons with the princess three or four times for every trivial matter, severely hindering his duties.
Inside the Ministry of War, the officials, assuming Song Yu wouldn’t show, spoke freely.
"Minister Qian, what kind of conduct is this from Prince Qin?" one official lamented. "Demanding reports be condensed to a few lines—how can we possibly explain complex matters?"
"Indeed! Most officials in the Great Qi court are eloquent scholars. If not through memorials, how else can we present our cases to the Emperor?"
The room buzzed with grievances against Song Yu.
Outside, Song Yu paused mid-step, his expression growing amused.
"It’s simply that Prince Qin lacks the intellect to understand!"
"Minister Liu is right. Everyone knows Prince Qin was a wastrel in his youth—barely read a book in his life," another official sneered. "All he knows is cricket-fighting. If reports aren’t simplified, how could he possibly comprehend them?"
Each word tested Song Yu’s patience.
"This doesn’t look like a ministry—more like a gossip-filled teahouse."
Song Yu kicked the door open, startling the officials into silence.
"Your Highness, when did you arrive?" Qian Sheng ventured, trying to gauge how much he’d overheard.
"I heard quite the commentary."
Song Yu’s gaze turned icy. "So, you all find me so lacking? Believe I only know how to fight crickets?"
"We dare not!"
"Liuxi, fetch me twenty crickets."
Song Yu sprawled into a chair. "Keep talking. I’m not done listening."
The officials trembled, cursing their loose tongues.
"Your Highness, why the crickets?" Liu Tong stammered. "The Ministry of War has no use for them."
Song Yu ignored him, reclining with closed eyes.
Half an hour later, Liuxi returned with the crickets.
Song Yu waved a hand. "Each of you, pick one. The winners may leave. Those who keep losing will stay here—all night."
The officials broke into a cold sweat.
"Your Highness, we... we don’t know how to fight crickets!"
"Can’t even master something this simple?" Song Yu smirked at Qian Sheng. "You claimed I only know cricket-fighting. Consider this a lesson."
What seemed easy in theory proved impossible for the seasoned officials.
Song Yu had the ministry doors barred, slipping out only to fetch Song Shihuan from her studies.
"Father, why are they fighting crickets instead of working?"
Watching the red-faced officials desperately cheering on their insects, Song Shihuan fought back laughter.
"They insisted I teach them. What could I do?" Song Yu sighed theatrically. "Though tomorrow, your grandfather will surely scold me for indulging them."
"They chose this themselves. How is it your fault?"
Qian Sheng and the others nearly fainted at her words.
"Minister Qian, your cricket looks half-dead."
Song Shihuan leaned in. "Perhaps it’s simply too old."
The moment she spoke, the cricket twitched—then went still.
"Seems you’ll be spending the night here, Minister Qian."
Song Shihuan feigned sympathy as Song Yu barely suppressed his grin.
The remaining officials dripped with sweat, vowing never to cross the father-daughter duo again.
......
"Your Highness, Princess, a moment!"
On the palace path, Song Yu frowned at the approaching eunuch. "You’re Xiao Xiazi from the Eastern Palace?"
"Indeed. The Crown Princess ordered this servant to deliver this music score to the Princess."
Song Shihuan accepted it, sensing something amiss. "My thanks to Her Highness."
Back at the manor, Song Yu and Song Shihuan unfolded the hidden letter.
"Are the Shen Family blind? Fancying Song Yanzheng? Still, better to remove Shen Hua'er early."
Song Yu shook his head in disbelief. The Shen Family was aligned with the Fourth Prince—what madness was this?
Song Shihuan’s eyes glinted.
Years ago, the Successor Empress had schemed against her father. Now, history would repeat itself—with Song Yanzheng as the target.
But the Eastern Palace’s dream of a heroic rescue would never come to pass.
