After Xie Xianqing was born, he was appointed Crown Prince and taught to carry the responsibilities of the dynasty and the welfare of the people. He was precocious, uninterested in material desires, and aware that holding such a high position demanded caution in speech and action; not a single step could be misjudged.
As someone who held himself to strict standards, Xie Xianqing carried within him a clear measure of discipline, a boundary that distinctly separated what he could do from what he could not, ensuring that he would be a qualified heir.
In the first half of his life, he had done this remarkably well, appearing gentle and refined, yet inwardly rational and detached, his mind organized with exacting clarity.
When he realized that Chen Jiao harbored feelings for him, he decisively cut ties and treated her with coldness. Even though he sensed he might feel something different for her as well, it was not enough to sway his decision. He would not allow the annals of history to record that he disregarded morality.
After making this choice, he even contemplated how he might handle it if Chen Jiao refused to heed his distance, knowing that at her age, just awakening to her feelings, she might struggle to accept rejection.
Yet he did not expect that after his reprimand and coldness, Chen Jiao would not act out. After a brief period of confusion, she obediently left the Crown Prince’s residence.
Xie Xianqing felt relief, though a faint dissatisfaction and irritation lingered, a sense of being teased from neither here nor there.
Especially when he was prepared to face Chen Jiao, only to find the next day that she had not come to the residence at all, his mood sank further.
…
As evening fell, several hours had passed since Chen Jiao’s departure, and the Crown Prince’s residence was silent.
At that moment, a messenger rushed to Eunuch Zhang, bringing a letter from the Yong’an Marquis household.
Receiving the news, Eunuch Zhang hesitated briefly before returning to attend to the Crown Prince, standing aside as if unsure how to speak.
Xie Xianqing, reading a book, noticed Zhang’s expression and asked casually, “What is it?”
Everyone in the Crown Prince’s residence knew their place; ordinary matters were never brought to his attention, so this must be important.
Lowering his head, Zhang spoke respectfully, “Your Highness, a memorial from the Yong’an Marquis household. The heir requests leave, saying he must accompany the Old Lady at the hot-spring villa outside the city, and will be unable to report to the Crown Prince’s residence for the next few days…”
After hearing this, silence stretched in the room, broken only by the rustle of pages. Zhang felt the pressure multiply, inwardly cursing his luck.
Why would the Chen heir act like this? The Crown Prince had scolded her, and even if she were staying home to reflect or hurry to apologize, it would be understandable. Yet she calmly left Chang’an, leisurely going to the villa.
This was hardly befitting a minister’s child. What would His Highness think upon hearing this…
Chen Jiao was unaware of Zhang’s silent grumbling. Before leaving for her trip, she had informed the residence, knowing that if the Crown Prince discovered her absence for several days, there would be consequences. Thus, she had a servant notify the gate that day, preventing unnecessary trouble.
The room remained still, lit only by flickering candlelight.
After a while, Xie Xianqing, still flipping through his book, spoke lightly, “She’s gone to the villa, then?”
Zhang bowed his head, “That appears to be the case.”
Xie Xianqing smiled faintly, “She truly doesn’t care much.”
Chen Jiao’s carefree nature made his own low spirits seem laughable.
Had anyone else heard this laugh, they might have thought his mood improved, yet only Eunuch Zhang, long accustomed to serving the Crown Prince, knew better—His Highness was likely furious.
Zhang cursed inwardly at the unlucky Chen heir. After being scolded, she ran off to a villa for leisure, leaving them trembling under the Crown Prince’s dark mood.
The atmosphere was tense, Zhang dared not lift his head, sweat beading on his forehead.
After a long moment, Xie Xianqing said calmly, “Go.”
Zhang wiped the sweat from his brow and slowly withdrew.
…
The Crown Prince’s mood had soured recently.
Noticing this, the palace attendants moved cautiously, and even visiting ministers dared not breathe loudly, reporting with utmost care.
Those curious enough to learn suspected Chen Jiao had angered the Crown Prince, secretly taking satisfaction. Since she joined the Crown Prince’s circle, the older ministers had been sidelined; this was the first time they saw her falter.
Members of the Crown Prince’s faction were all servants of His Highness, colleagues united outwardly, though competition existed in secret.
Chen Jiao, an unexpected contender, had gained attention through flattery, elevating herself above them.
These ministers prided themselves on superior skill and knowledge, yet this newcomer surpassed them, a fact they could not openly accept.
After court, a few faction members discussed the morning’s events as they walked: “Chen Jiao is slippery as ever, but this time she misstepped and angered His Highness.”
“The Chen heir has suffered this time, absent from the residence for days. Has His Highness taken a dislike to her?”
“I heard the Grand Tutor also disapproved, recently advising His Highness to avoid petty people. Perhaps that’s why…”
Wang Shangshu remained silent, lost in thought.
Returning home, he summoned his foolish son, instructing, “You said Chen Jiao would return from the villa today. Once she does, you must…”
Meanwhile, the Crown Prince’s residence remained hushed.
The atmosphere was heavy, and Zhang, ever vigilant, tensed further.
In the study, Xie Xianqing painted.
Standing by the table, brush in hand, he asked absentmindedly, “Has the Chen heir returned to the capital today?”
Zhang nearly questioned his hearing. After several days of low spirits, the entire residence had been solemn.
Being close to the Crown Prince, Zhang knew the cause of his mood was likely Chen Jiao.
He reflected on how recently their relationship had been close, sharing entrances and exits, yet now she was suddenly disregarded.
No one expected the Crown Prince to mention her again, and his tone suggested not complete disdain—perhaps a lingering thought remained…
Indeed, Zhang knew disaster lingered for centuries.
His heart raced, fingers trembling, as he cautiously reported, “I heard someone saw the Yong’an Marquis household’s carriage at the city gate this morning.”
Xie Xianqing’s gaze darkened; he seemed about to speak, then stopped.
Seeing His Highness troubled, Zhang carefully added, “The journey may have been tiring. It is still early; perhaps she will arrive later this evening.”
Xie Xianqing snorted, tossing aside his brush, “If she intended to come, she would already be here.”
At the previous poetry gathering, Chen Jiao had returned to the capital in the evening yet went directly to the Crown Prince’s residence, demonstrating the difference between care and indifference.
Looking out the window, Xie Xianqing murmured, “Perhaps she is vexed in her heart.”
Zhang dared to reassure, “Your Highness, Chen Jiao only cares for you. Her feelings are obvious. How could she be angry with you?”
Xie Xianqing lowered his gaze, a faint scoff escaping, “I am angry at myself.”
His words were abrupt, leaving Zhang puzzled yet too cautious to ask further.
At some point, a sweet-scented osmanthus tree appeared on the courtyard paper, petals drifting to the stone table, as if stirring ripples within Xie Xianqing’s heart.
Finally, he sighed, “If only I had paid attention at the first meeting, let alone now.”
His words carried helpless regret. Zhang’s heart trembled; judging from the Crown Prince’s fluctuating mood and this conversation, the truth was clear. His fingers shook, almost bringing him to his knees to plead forgiveness.
Sweat poured down Zhang’s forehead as he pretended deafness, silently fearing for his life.
Xie Xianqing ignored the terrified attendant, standing alone by the window, lost in thought.