10th Prince: “Little Eleven, you…”
Xie Zhao looked at himself in the mirror; the reflection was still that of a youth.
He looked to be in his mid-teens, his facial features not yet sharp. Only a pair of auspicious phoenix eyes carried a hint of natural authority, yet they were a far cry from the Emperor’s majestic and broad-featured appearance.
It seemed the original owner of this body took after his late mother.
Xie Zhao looked himself over from left to right, feeling somewhat dissatisfied.
“Fuman, Fuman? Come look, is my collar crooked?”
A small eunuch dressed in a purple robe with a green lapel bowed his head as he waited at the side. Hearing the call, he looked up, his eyes widening as he praised in an exaggerated tone, “Oh my! You’re right. Please don’t move, Your Highness—let your servant handle such menial work!”
This little eunuch named Fuman was newly sent to Xie Zhao’s quarters by the Directorate of Ceremonies.
The previous one, Fuquan, had been negligent in his duties. One late night, he had actually left the intoxicated 11th Prince alone by the lake, causing him to fall in and nearly drown.
The Emperor and Empress were furious. Without even questioning him, they threw the man directly into the Office of Internal Coordination to investigate who was bold enough to instigate him to murder a prince!
The Office of Internal Coordination was the place where palace maids and eunuchs were interrogated and punished. It was independent of the Twelve Directorates and the Six Palatial Bureaus; no one could interfere with its operations, and it was notorious for its use of brutal torture.
No matter how grand your status was on the outside, once you entered the Office of Internal Coordination, you would go in upright and come out horizontal. There was no one in the palace who didn’t fear it.
However, Fuquan proved to be stubborn. He didn’t open his mouth even after a full round of torture.
It was unclear whether he was truly loyal to a master behind the scenes or if it really was just an accident—that no one had instigated him, and the original owner’s fall into the water was purely due to his negligence.
In any case, before anything could be squeezed out of him, he breathed his last. Consequently, the investigation into the 11th Prince’s drowning ended there.
The Emperor was so angry that he summoned Xie Zhao and gave him a harsh scolding, strictly forbidding him from drinking ever again.
Xie Zhao remembered it clearly. At the time, the Emperor had a long face, sizing him up with two glances before looking away in disgust, as if Xie Zhao were an eyesore.
The Emperor had sighed deeply and said with disdain, “You have such a poor tolerance for alcohol; how can you possibly be my son?”
“Back when I was in Huaizhou, that old rogue Shan Hongfeng plotted against me and filled my belly with wine. Even then, I was able to lead Geng Shi and Wan Qin to carve a blood-soaked path out of there. What about you? Just two mouthfuls down and you fall into a lake? Huh?”
Under the Emperor’s disappointed gaze, Xie Zhao had lowered his head in shame.
The Emperor grew even more disappointed: “What a disgrace…”
Then he waved his hand. “Forget it, forget it. Get out. If you can’t drink, don’t ever drink again. If you fall into the lake again and scare the Empress to death, I’ll skin you alive, boy.”
The Emperor said the last sentence slowly and heavily, as if he really would do it if Xie Zhao misbehaved again and frightened the Empress.
Xie Zhao shuddered and nodded repeatedly. “Yes, your son understands. I promise never to drink again!”
One had to remember that the Emperor had been a military general in his youth. Later, when the world fell into chaos, he fought against various factions for ten years before seizing the throne. The killing intent of an emperor who conquered on horseback was very real; a casual remark from him was enough to make one’s blood run cold.
In his previous life, Xie Zhao was just an ordinary person who had never met any truly powerful figures. Naturally, he couldn’t handle the pressure.
The Emperor gave a casual “mm” in response. “Fine, leave,” he said, his tone full of annoyance.
After speaking, he didn’t even bother to look at Xie Zhao again before sitting back down to review memorials.
Only after Xie Zhao left did the Emperor complain to the head eunuch by his side.
“Tell me, I’ve been a hero all my life, how can I have such a useless son?”
The eunuch, Feng De, smiled, not knowing how to respond.
The Emperor could disparage his own son, but Feng De didn’t dare to comment on the 11th Prince casually.
Fortunately, the Emperor wasn’t really asking him; he just wanted someone to vent to. After speaking, he thought for a moment and seemed to find the reason.
“Oh, he takes after his mother. His mother had a frail constitution. Sigh, the son she bore isn’t sturdy either.” The Emperor shook his head.
…
Outside the door, Xie Zhao paused.
Dad, is it possible that I can hear you?
Could you at least wait until I’m further away before saying that!
Although he didn’t dare to talk back while being scolded inside the hall, he was actually a bit indignant.
Because the one with poor alcohol tolerance was the original owner. In the modern world, Xie Zhao had an excellent tolerance; at every business dinner, he could drink the opposing bosses under the table and secure countless large contracts.
But then again, working too hard isn’t good either. Just look at him—he died at work at a young age before he could even finish spending the money in his bank account.
Tsk. What a loss. A massive loss.
Luckily he hadn’t bought a house yet, otherwise, it would have been an even bigger loss to buy one and not be able to live in it.
Well… failing to afford a house even right before death didn’t seem much better, did it?
Xie Zhao fell silent. Was I really living that miserably?
Perhaps it was a case of luck turning for the better after reaching rock bottom. He hadn’t completely died after his sudden death but had transmigrated into the body of the 11th Prince of the Great Yan Dynasty. This was truly a blessing in disguise.
Even though his biological mother died early, his maternal family was obscure, and he had so many brothers that he barely stood out.
But that didn’t matter!
As a prince, he didn’t have to worry about food or clothes, and he could be granted a title as a Prince of the Blood in the future. Aside from the lack of air conditioning and Wi-Fi, this life was far better than his previous one. What more could he be dissatisfied with?
Just like right now, even adjusting his own collar was considered “menial work.”
Xie Zhao’s lips twitched; he was still not quite used to this lifestyle of having everything handed to him.
However, since he was now the 11th Prince and not the 21st-century Xie Zhao, he had to adapt. Otherwise, it would be too strange for a prince who had lived in luxury for over a decade to suddenly insist on being self-reliant.
So, Xie Zhao simply emptied his mind and stood there, letting Fuman straighten his clothes.
Once Fuman stepped back, Xie Zhao checked the mirror again. Mm, satisfied this time.
Fuman secretly observed Xie Zhao’s expression. Seeing that he was pleased, he reminded him at the right time, “Your Highness, the hour is late. You should head to Shengping Tower.”
Today was the Mid-Autumn Festival. The Emperor would host a palace banquet at Shengping Tower. By the Emperor’s grace, the old brothers who followed him to conquer the world—the founding dukes and marquises—would all be present.
The princes, even more so, could not be absent.
After all, they were mostly grown. Even the youngest 15th Prince was already twelve. In an environment where one could marry at fifteen, a twelve-year-old was already half an adult. They naturally couldn’t be left out of such palace banquets, so Xie Zhao had to go, and he had to go early.
Since he hadn’t married or established his own manor yet, he lived in Qingning Palace with several of his younger brothers. If he, who lived right inside the imperial palace, arrived too late, wouldn’t that invite criticism?
This was a rule inherited from the previous dynasty: once a prince turned ten, he had to move out of his mother’s palace and live in Qingning Palace. This was to prevent princes from being too heavily influenced by their birth mothers and maternal families.
The idea was good, but unfortunately, space in the palace was limited. After searching around, they only found a vacant spot near the Empress Dowager’s Ciming Palace and the gardens to build Qingning Palace.
It was still technically within the boundaries of the Inner Palace.
As for Shengping Tower, it was the venue for large-scale palace banquets. It belonged to the Outer Court and was located quite far forward; it was basically a short walk from the palace gates.
One was in the north and the other in the south. Walking from one to the other took a considerable amount of time.
Princes were juniors, and without the Emperor’s special permission, they were not allowed to take sedan chairs within the palace. They could only rely on their own two legs.
This was why, even though the banquet was in the evening, Fuman began urging Xie Zhao to set out before it even got dark.
Fortunately, the original owner was skilled in archery and horsemanship, so his physical health was excellent. Walking for an hour wasn’t a major issue.
When he arrived, he realized someone was there even earlier than him.
Seeing the youth about his age sitting near his seat, who wasn’t red-faced or panting, Xie Zhao estimated he had arrived a long time ago.
Xie Zhao was shocked. Bro, do you really have to be this competitive?
When the youth saw Xie Zhao, he stood up unhurriedly and bowed. “Eleventh Brother.”
Xie Zhao quickly returned the gesture. “Twelfth Brother.”
Not only was he competitive, but his manners were also exceptionally thorough.
We’re the same age, is it really necessary to stand up and bow? It feels a bit distant.
Xie Zhao complained silently.
However, thinking about the 12th Prince’s background, it wasn’t hard to understand.
He was born to Consort Xian, and Consort Xian’s father was the Chancellor of the National University, Fang Zhonghua. He was a disciple of a great Confucian scholar from the previous dynasty and was currently a leading figure in the world of academia.
When the Yan Dynasty was first established, in order to settle the hearts of the people, the Emperor had invited Fang Zhonghua back to serve as the Chancellor of the National University. Shortly after, he summoned the youngest daughter of the Fang family into the palace as a consort to strengthen the bond between the imperial family and the scholars.
This move was very effective. In just two years, the imperial examinations were back on track. Scholars from various schools of thought flocked to the capital to take the exams and began to serve the new dynasty.
Therefore, although the position of Chancellor of the National University wasn’t high and didn’t seem very important, it depended on who held the post.
With Fang Zhonghua in that seat, everyone had to show him respect.
After all, he had been the Chancellor for seventeen years. In the entire court, besides the few who followed the Emperor to conquer the world, almost everyone else was his student.
When dealing with a teacher, how could one not be respectful?
This group of people looked at Fang Zhonghua through a filter, and they felt the same about his grandson. They believed that as the grandson of a great Confucian, he should be self-disciplined, observant of etiquette, and well-versed in both ancient and modern knowledge.
The 12th Prince had been burdened with high expectations since birth, which resulted in him having the most impeccable manners among all the siblings.
After the exchange of greetings, they could finally sit down. Xie Zhao slumped and rubbed his legs.
Seeing this, the 12th Prince asked with concern, “Are your legs aching from the walk?”
Xie Zhao said, “You bet. Qingning Palace is way too far from Shengping Tower, and they don’t even let us take sedan chairs. It’s exhausting.”
Having a healthy body was one thing; being tired was another.
Xie Zhao whispered the latter half of his complaint, lest someone overhear and report it to the Emperor.
After all, he had just been scorned a few days ago for falling into the lake while drunk; he didn’t want to go before the Emperor and annoy him again.
Fortunately, the 12th Prince was a gentleman through and through. Only then did Xie Zhao dare to whisper a complaint to him, but only one sentence before he quietly went back to rubbing his legs.
As he rubbed, Xie Zhao glanced at the 12th Prince and asked, puzzled, “Don’t your legs ache?”
The 12th Prince’s tone was flat. “They do.”
Xie Zhao: “Then, don’t you need to rub them?”
The 12th Prince shook his head. “Today is a palace banquet. Our elder brothers will arrive shortly. Such an action would be unrefined.”
Xie Zhao: “?”
It’s just rubbing my legs, is it that serious?
The 12th Prince sighed. Don’t ask. Just sit. Moving is unrefined.
Xie Zhao fell silent. Today he had finally witnessed what it meant to “sit like a sacrificial effigy and stand with reverence.”
“Eleven, Twelve, what are you two chatting about?”
Along with a bright question, a prince who looked only two or three years older than them walked in.
Why was Xie Zhao so sure?
Because this person was wearing the same green Dragon Robe as them, with circular dragon emblems on the shoulders, chest, and back. This was attire only worn by princes who had not yet been granted titles and the heirs of Princes of the Blood.
An heir of a Prince of the Blood wouldn’t dare address them like that, so he had to be a prince.
While Xie Zhao was still searching his memory to identify him, the 12th Prince had already stood up to bow, exactly the same as when he had met Xie Zhao.
“Tenth Brother.”
Accustomed to this, the 10th Prince returned the bow and said, “Twelve, there’s no need for such formality between us brothers, is there?”
The 12th Prince straightened up and replied calmly, “Etiquette must not be neglected.”
The 10th Prince waved his hand. “Fine, fine, pretend I didn’t say anything.”
Xie Zhao had also stood up, intending to follow the 12th Prince’s lead, but the 10th Prince glared at him. He stepped forward and slung an arm around Xie Zhao’s shoulders, catching him in a headlock—completing a classic display of an older brother’s dominance over a younger one.
“What’s this, Little Eleven? You’re learning bad habits too?”
Author’s Note:
1.
Princes are usually granted titles at age fifteen, but for the convenience of distinguishing them, they will still be referred to by their ranking in the text.
2.
“Sit like a sacrificial effigy and stand with reverence” — From the Book of Rites. “Effigy” refers to the person who represents the deceased during ancient sacrificial rites, who must sit perfectly still throughout the process. “Reverence” refers to the respectful posture during a fast or ritual.