6
According to the script Ye ‘the Big Bad Wolf’ Jiangbai had originally envisioned, he would quietly dig a trap, lure the Seventh Prince into falling hard into it, and then the prince would lift her despairing little face and scream and roar at him—You liar!
Miserable, helpless, and furious.
At that moment, Ye Jiangbai would tuck his hands into his sleeves, stand tall and elegant, look down, and say, “Since ancient times, hearts have been hidden behind bellies. Remember this lesson well, Your Highness.”
A compassionate tone, paired with an indifferent gaze. How perfect, how amusing, how domineering!
But the idiot lying on the couch gave him absolutely no chance to perform.
The inner chamber was quiet. Zhao Changnian, poisoned, lay unconscious on the soft couch, her face tinged purple. Beside her, Ye Jiangbai, looking unpoisoned—looked down at her, his face also tinged purple.
He had done everything he needed to do. Everything had gone smoothly. All that remained was to have the imperial physician examine the Seventh Prince’s injuries, report to the emperor, and with the added news of the Warden of the Imperial Archives’ death, the supervision of this year’s military funds would most likely fall into someone else’s hands. The Crown Prince would no longer get his share of the spoils.
Yet Ye Jiangbai couldn’t muster the slightest bit of satisfaction. In fact, he felt rather irritable.
“My lord, the imperial physician is already on his way.” A palace attendant reported quietly from beyond the silk curtain.
Ye Jiangbai acknowledged with a grunt. He wiped the remaining medicinal powder from Changnian’s body with a handkerchief, casually adjusted her robes for her, then paused thoughtfully and turned to ask, “Has anyone here paid any attention to this Seventh Prince?”
The attendant was startled, apparently not having expected the question. But after a moment, he answered crisply, “The Seventh Prince rarely appears in public, so there is little information. However, a few officials who have interacted with His Highness say that he is innocent in his ways and prone to trusting others easily.”
Innocent? This wasn’t innocence—it was a reckless, death-defying kind of foolishness. If Ye Jiangbai had truly intended to kill, the prince would already be crossing the River Styx, completely unaware.
It was a miracle he had survived this long.
With a light scoff, Ye Jiangbai waved a hand. “Never mind him. Go about your business.”
“Yes.” The attendant bowed and withdrew.
Zhao Changnian felt as though she had just endured a nightmare—one filled with mountains of blades and seas of fire, iron chains and boiling oil cauldrons. There was no escape, and her entire body ached as though it were being torn apart. Finally, she spotted a clear spring in the distance and dove into it like a madwoman, only to end up drowning, unable to breathe, thrashing desperately for her life.
“It hurts…”
A whimper escaped her lips, and feeling suddenly returned to her limbs. Changnian twitched her fingers and vaguely heard voices nearby.
“I am guilty, Your Majesty. Please punish me.”
“What crime could my beloved minister have committed? It is merely Nian’er’s weak constitution. The child was born premature—it is only natural that he is often frail and ill.”
That was her father’s voice? Zhao Changnian froze for a moment, then struggled to open her eyes and turn her head.
Beyond the partition, someone sat on a tea couch. Through the holloq patterned wooden screen, she could faintly make out the brilliant yellow dragon robe.
“Your Highness is awake?” Hongti, standing by the bed, exclaimed in a low whisper. Overjoyed, she squeezed Zhao Changnian’s hand before hastily lifting her skirts to go and report the news.
Moments later, palace attendants came to help Zhao Changnian out of bed so she could pay her respects.
Her rear end was already numb with pain, but Zhao Changnian’s eyes sparkled as she let the attendants support her, dragging the tips of her feet across the floor as quickly as she could manage until she reached the tea couch.
“Your son pays his respects to Father Emperor!”
She dropped to both knees. The pain made her grimace and hiss sharply twice before she managed to brace herself against the floor and lower her head in a kowtow.
Ye Jiangbai, who had risen to his feet and was standing to the side, glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and pressed his lips together.
The other princes had already been granted the favor of performing the fist-and-palm salute. Only the Seventh Prince still had to kowtow. Yet she didn’t seem the least bit resentful—in fact, she performed the kowtow quite crisply. If not for the carpet on the floor, she probably would have knocked her head loud and clear.
Then again, he supposed it made sense. Aside from major ceremonial occasions, the Seventh Prince likely hadn’t seen His Majesty in nearly half a year.
What a pitiful, miserable wretch.
The emperor had too many sons to count, and he had no particular impression of this Seventh Prince, nor much affection for him. If not for Ye Jiangbai suggesting that he ought to come, he wouldn’t have been sitting here today. But the imperial family’s greatest skill was putting on a facade. Even though it had been a long time since he’d last seen this son, he still had to speak kindly:
“If you’re unwell, don’t kneel. Rise.”
“Thank you, Father!”
Zhao Changnian got to her feet. Unable to sit, she could only stand propped up by the attendants. But she was truly happy, and a flush of color appeared on her pale little face, as her eyes sparkled as if filled with crushed glass.
Ye Jiangbai glanced at her casually and cursed under his breath: What a fool.
The imperial family was the cruellest of all. The emperor had never been a man moved by family affection. No matter how happy she acted, it would make no difference.
“The Crown Prince went a little too heavy-handed this time. I have already sent someone to relay the message to him. He will come to apologize later,” the emperor said, half-scolding, half-comforting. “But you as well—what were you thinking, provoking him for no good reason?”
Zhao Changnian blinked and said softly, “Your son knows his mistake.”
What mistake did she know? The Crown Prince had been petty first, and he had framed her afterward. Did she really think it was her own fault? Ye Jiangbai was inwardly rolling his eyes so hard they might fall out of his head. Unable to stop himself, he said, “The Seventh Prince’s straightforward nature does indeed make it easy to offend people.”
The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.
What am I doing? Helping Zhao Changnian brought him no benefit whatsoever. Why was he opening his mouth like this? He was here to whisper in the emperor’s ear, not to rescue some idiot.
The emperor was also a bit surprised to hear this from him. He glanced at Ye Jiangbai and said, stroking his beard, “My beloved minister makes a fair point.”
Zhao Changnian, however, did not think Ye Jiangbai was speaking up for her at all. She thought he was criticizing her. Her face fell, and she opened her mouth to defend herself.
Ye Jiangbai’s brow twitched. He knew exactly what the fool was about to do and hurriedly spoke before she could: “Your Highness’s injuries are severe. You should go and rest.”
“I’m fine!” The moment she heard she might be sent away, Zhao Changnian immediately shook her head.
Ye Jiangbai gritted his teeth, maintaining the smile on his face. “Even the imperial physician said your injuries are serious and that you nearly died. You don’t have to push yourself.”
“I… I can hold out a little longer.” Zhao Changnian looked at him pitifully.
Her father had finally come to sit with her. Was it too much to want to look at him a little longer?
Yes, it was!
Ye Jiangbai narrowed his eyes. Her complexion was already terrible, and her body was trembling like a leaf in the wind, which meant his medicine was working well enough to stir some pity in the emperor. But what did she mean by stubbornly insisting she was fine? Was she trying to sabotage him?
He turned his head and glanced at Hongti.
This maid was far smarter than the Seventh Prince. She immediately tugged at Zhao Changnian’s sleeve.
Zhao Changnian’s head drooped. She pouted and, in a hoarse voice, bowed to the emperor: “Then your son will take his leave.”
“Go and rest,” the emperor said with a dismissive wave, not even looking at her.
Ye Jiangbai watched from the corner of his eye as the Seventh Prince suddenly seemed to lose all her strength. Her entire body wilted, and she was helped into the inner chamber and laid face-down on the bed, where she curled herself into a small bundle.
From a distance, he could only make out the shape of the blanket on the bed. But somehow, Ye Jiangbai had a gut feeling.
This fool is definitely crying.
**