"Your Highness, if we continue to allow this situation, Great Qi will only know of the Divine Maiden and not the imperial family." The Right Instructor of the Crown Prince's household, Official Wei, spoke with a pained expression, his eyes brimming with tears. His usual duty was to advise the Crown Prince, but ever since joining the Eastern Palace, the Crown Prince had favored other subordinates, leaving him and his counterpart to mostly organize books.
Wei Tandong refused to be buried in obscurity and had long sought an opportunity to distinguish himself before the Crown Prince.
Yet all he had waited for was the Crown Prince becoming a "Divine Consort"—and not even the only one at that. Was this not a clear message that the Crown Prince's status was inferior to the Divine Maiden's? In that case, officials like him in the Eastern Palace would only be further humiliated in her presence.
True, the Divine Maiden had brought many benefits to Great Qi, but in Wei Tandong's eyes, these were merely gifts from heaven, with her serving as nothing more than a vessel. To elevate her so highly, even above the Crown Prince, was a blatant disregard for hierarchy.
Now she had even introduced imperial examinations for women. Soon, men like him would not only be overshadowed by the Divine Maiden but also by other women—utterly absurd and against all propriety.
And then there was that so-called "practical learning"—a vulgar subject unworthy of standing alongside the sacred teachings of the sages.
He was not alone in his discontent. Many felt that the Emperor and the Grand Preceptor had lost their bearings, with the Emperor especially showing signs of folly, no longer the wise and mighty ruler they once revered.
Yet the common people, blinded by petty gains, failed to see the long-term dangers. The Divine Maiden's reputation among them was alarmingly high. No matter how much resentment officials harbored, they dared not voice it openly.
Several officials had privately reached out to Wei Tandong, urging him to appeal to the Crown Prince's emotions and reason, to persuade him to act.
Wei Tandong believed he was fighting for Great Qi's future—certainly not for the gold and silver others had promised him.
Pei Chiyan listened to his impassioned, dramatic speech with an amused smile. "And so?"
To Wei Tandong, this was an encouraging sign.
He eagerly continued, "The most pressing matter is abolishing the women's imperial examinations and restoring order. Secondly… Your Highness should renounce your status as Divine Consort, take a Crown Princess, and then select concubines to strengthen the Eastern Palace's influence."
Wei Tandong knew that many officials resented the Divine Maiden for this very reason.
As the future ruler of Great Qi, if the Crown Prince accepted their daughters into his household, their families could secure imperial favor once he ascended the throne—perhaps even producing a future emperor's maternal relatives.
But the Emperor had disrupted all their plans.
Pei Chiyan asked, "With just our voices, the outcry would be too weak to sway His Majesty."
He had worked tirelessly to secure his position, and now these men sought to destroy what he had painstakingly obtained. How infuriating.
This was the perfect opportunity to lure out the fools who would expose themselves.
Wei Tandong's heart swelled with joy—approaching the Crown Prince had been the right move. Clearly, His Highness had long been dissatisfied but had bided his time.
His tone grew livelier. "Your Highness, you are not alone. We stand with you."
Pei Chiyan regarded him with gentle warmth. "Which loyal officials are among you?"
The word "loyal" sent Wei Tandong's head spinning, and he eagerly listed every name of those who had contacted him. This would earn him their gratitude.
Pei Chiyan: "…"
Not a single one was among the Emperor's inner circle. His Majesty's discernment remained sharp.
After a brief pause, he deduced the reason.
Over the past year, the Emperor had frequently held private councils with his trusted advisors, settling major policies in casual discussions and leaving no room for others to exploit. These men, excluded from the inner circle and seeing their ambitions thwarted, now sought to bet on him. Their lofty words masked nothing but self-interest.
"I understand. Have them send me their letters in the coming days. I would not wish to overlook the wise counsel of such pillars of the state."
Wei Tandong, overjoyed, relayed the message to his allies.
Soon, a flood of letters arrived in Pei Chiyan's hands.
As he read through them, he could only shake his head—all were shallow and superficial.
Three days later, during court, Pei Chiyan struck.
"I accuse Wei Tandong, Chen Furen, Li Youze, and others… of attempting to sow discord between myself and the Divine Maiden, leading me into disloyalty, dishonor, and filial impiety."
He recited a long list of names. Wei Tandong, too low in rank to attend court, was spared, but the others stood frozen in the grand hall, staring at Pei Chiyan in disbelief—weren’t they allies? Had His Highness misunderstood?
Pei Chiyan continued calmly, "My position as Divine Consort was ordained by our ancestors and blessed by the gods. Yet they urged me to abandon it, defying ancestral will—this is filial impiety."
"For their own gain, they disregarded Great Qi's interests, sought to estrange me from the Divine Maiden, and encouraged me to strip her of authority, ignoring her contributions to the imperial family—this is disloyalty and dishonor."
"They claimed to act for my sake, yet their motives were petty and self-serving. I refuse to align with such villains or betray my principles."
His words, firm and resonant, drew the court's collective gaze toward the accused—how bold they were, daring to defy heaven itself!
Chen Furen and the others, bombarded by scornful, disgusted, and shocked stares, felt blood rush from their feet to their heads, nearly vomiting in humiliation.
They had only wanted to help the Crown Prince! How could he betray them like this?
Pei Lingyue, observing their terror, sighed inwardly—such cowards, thinking they could manipulate the Crown Prince. They overestimated themselves and underestimated him.
In a grave tone, he asked, "Does the Crown Prince have evidence?"
Pei Chiyan presented Chen Furen's letter.
With irrefutable proof, Chen Furen and his cohorts were swiftly escorted away.
The Crown Prince's move jolted other scheming officials into clarity.
His Highness, though young, was no fool—he had laid a trap, and they had leapt right in.
And far from resenting his role as Divine Consort, he seemed to wear it with pride.
If the Crown Prince was out of reach, who else remained?
Their eyes drifted toward another figure in the hall…
Prince Zhuang? Given how shamelessly his son fawned over the Divine Maiden, it was clear the Zhuang household might prefer her as emperor over the current one.
Prince Zhao? He always follows the emperor's lead, as if he has no opinions of his own. The two princesses of Prince Zhao's household are also particularly close to the Divine Maiden.
The Grand Preceptor? He is the Divine Maiden's master's grandfather and even sent his own cherished son to serve as a Divine Consort. It's safe to say he's firmly in the Divine Maiden's faction.
Looking around, they suddenly realized—without even noticing, they seemed to have become isolated?
This court had already been taken over by the Divine Maiden's faction.
Should they abandon the darkness for the light, or... abandon the darkness for the light?
...
News of the morning court proceedings quickly reached Yu Miaohua's ears.
That evening, while dining with the crown prince, Yu Miaohua brought up the matter. "If being a Divine Consort has become a burden to you, perhaps I can find a way to release you from the role?"
After all, she had already received the rewards for her mission. Even if she disbanded the harem now, no one could demand she return them.
She thought to herself—Pei Chiyan was, after all, the crown prince. Yet he had become part of her harem, which inherently placed him in a subordinate position. No wonder the officials of the Eastern Palace harbored resentment toward her.
As for the matter of female officials, she had finally seized a glimmer of hope, and she wouldn't back down on this issue. If others didn't like it, they could just grit their teeth and bear it.
Pei Lingyue's expression was earnest. "It's no burden at all. In fact, you've helped me. Without this identity as a shield, those ministers would surely set their sights on my inner court. It would be nearly impossible for me to remain unmarried before turning thirty."
Yu Miaohua was reminded of the crown prince's past words—according to a diviner's prophecy, he couldn't marry before thirty, or he would meet an early demise.
During the New Year, Yu Miaohua had used a Life-Extending Elixir on her father and had also glimpsed the crown prince's lifespan—he was destined to live to sixty-eight, which was considered long-lived in this era.
Clearly, that so-called diviner was a fraud—likely planted by the crown prince's rivals. It had to be the Second Prince, no doubt.
But she couldn't outright tell Pei Chiyan that the diviner was a liar and that he shouldn't believe it. People in this era were deeply superstitious about such things, and her presence had only made them more so.
Seeing the hesitation on Yu Miaohua's face, as if she was weighing her words carefully, Pei Chiyan continued, "Your status is unique. The heir of Prince Zhuang is a member of the imperial clan. If you chose only him and not me, certain individuals could easily twist the narrative, making it seem as though the divine favor was reserved solely for Prince Zhuang's household."
Knowing Yu Miaohua's temperament, if she believed she was causing him trouble, she would find a way to dissolve their connection. But if she saw his role as a Divine Consort as a way to aid him, her sense of loyalty would compel her to maintain the status quo. This excuse would dispel any guilt she felt.
As expected, Pei Chiyan watched as Yu Miaohua's expression shifted from worry and hesitation to sudden understanding and relief, the furrow in her brow smoothing away.
"So that's how it is."
Yu Miaohua hadn't realized there were so many intricacies at play. No wonder the emperor had been so eager to include the crown prince's name—it was all for the stability of the throne.
Pei Chiyan sighed softly, beginning his performance of playing the victim. "Those people who come to me spouting nonsense—do they truly have my best interests at heart? I don’t even know who’s pulling their strings. Others see my position as unshakable, but they don’t realize how precarious it truly is. Every day, I tread on thin ice, trembling with caution."
The tactic was old, but effective.
Pei Chiyan usually carried himself with unshakable composure. Now, with his brows slightly furrowed, he exuded a rare vulnerability and uncertainty, creating a striking contrast.
[Ah, being crown prince isn’t easy. Pei Chiyan must be under immense pressure, with so many coveting his position. The fact that his subordinates have been bribed shows how deeply his rivals have infiltrated the Eastern Palace.]
[Huh? But from what I’ve seen, the crown prince’s position seems secure. The emperor appears to trust him completely.] The system was puzzled. Was the crown prince really in such danger?
[That’s just on the surface. The calmer it seems, the more turbulent the undercurrents. That’s how it always is in dramas. Throughout history, how many crown princes have ascended smoothly?]
Yu Miaohua had watched plenty of political dramas and considered herself an expert on the subject. Deep down, she pitied Pei Chiyan. If she kicked him out now, his situation would only worsen.
"I was worried I might be causing you trouble. Especially since you’re always so busy, yet I’ve left the entire harem management to you..." And she had been completely hands-off.
Pei Chiyan lied without blinking. "It’s no trouble at all. In fact, it’s been a great help. Managing them has honed my skills."
"His Majesty is still in good health. As crown prince, I can’t openly befriend court officials—it would raise suspicions of factionalism. But through them, I’ve gained more supporters."
He paused. "Other factions wouldn’t dare interfere with the Divine Maiden’s household. Here, I find a rare peace of mind."
Well, his father had always hoped for deeper ties between him and Yu Miaohua. He surely wouldn’t mind being used as an excuse.
Yu Miaohua found his reasoning sound and abandoned her earlier thoughts entirely. Who would have guessed her Divine Maiden’s residence had become the crown prince’s sanctuary? So these Divine Consorts weren’t his rivals—they were his allies.
She said solemnly, "Unless you change your mind one day, there will always be a place for you here. You’re not alone."
He had confided in her so openly—clearly, he saw her as a true friend. She couldn’t possibly betray such trust.
Yu Miaohua’s expression was grave, as if she truly believed every word.
Faced with her sincere gaze, Pei Chiyan felt a twinge of guilt, his conscience prickling. He lowered his eyes. "My apologies. I didn’t mean to burden you with such ramblings."
Yu Miaohua waved it off. "It’s fine. I don’t mind."
She turned and instructed the kitchen to prepare more of the crown prince’s favorite dishes in the coming days, hoping to soothe his wounded heart with good food.
...
Pei Yuheng had assumed that after the crown prince dragged Yu Miaohua into this mess, her aversion to trouble would make her avoid him for a while.
He hadn’t expected to use this incident to eliminate his biggest rival—out of respect for the empress, Yu Miaohua wouldn’t go that far. He had merely hoped to seize the opportunity to spend more time with her.
The next day, Yu Miaohua ordered several new sets of robes for the crown prince.
The day after, she personally supervised the kitchen as they prepared pastries for him.
And the day after that, she accompanied him on an outing to the countryside.
For an entire stretch of time, aside from the crown prince, no one else caught so much as a glimpse of Yu Miaohua.
Pei Yuheng was baffled: This wasn’t what he had envisioned! How had their relationship grown even closer? Was this even logical?
Soon, word spread throughout the capital—the crown prince and the Divine Maiden were closer than ever.
