Aside from the lofty pavilions reserved for nobles to watch from, the training grounds also had simpler bamboo sheds.
As Ming Yuhe pushed open the door and stepped inside, a flash of cold steel greeted him—a blade pressed against his neck. His lashes lowered, gaze calm as he glanced at the sharp edge poised at his throat, then lifted his eyes toward the guard holding the weapon. It was the same guard he had noticed earlier up above. Meeting Ming Yuhe’s dark, fathomless eyes, the man’s heart clenched, and he quickly looked toward the interior.
Inside sat a frail-looking young man. He had been sipping tea while watching the commotion outside, but at the sight of this scene, he hastily set down his cup and scolded, “Do not be rude!”
The guard withdrew at once, bowing in apology. “Forgive me, Young Marquis.”
Ming Yuhe said nothing, merely walked a few steps further in. He was about to offer a formal bow when the young man hurriedly rose and said, “Cousin, no need for ceremony—come, sit.”
Ming Yuhe had only two cousins from Prince Ning’s household. Strictly speaking, the one before him did count as kin, so he did not argue.
“Just now the guard said he spotted you from afar, so I guessed you might come over. Don’t blame him—outside the palace, caution is never misplaced.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Ming Yuhe replied. “But how is it that Your Highness is here?”
A trace of guilt flickered across Jiang Xie’s face, his voice dropping low. “A few days ago I heard Liyang say this place was lively, so I came to take a look… I kept it from Father and the Grand Tutor. No one else knows. Cousin, please don’t expose me…”
Ming Yuhe said evenly, “When the Crown Prince commands, how could I disobey?”
Jiang Xie’s eyes blinked rapidly. He picked up the teacup he had just set down and sipped slowly at the rim.
Ming Yuhe seated himself opposite. “Would you like to watch from above?”
Jiang Xie shook his head. “No, here is fine.”
After the founding emperor of the Jiang dynasty ascended the throne, he first eliminated rivals, then slew his fiercest generals. His sons followed suit, fighting each other bloody for the throne, until only the most ordinary ninth prince survived to inherit it.
From that line, only two sons lived: one became emperor, the other was granted the title Prince Ning. Yet the present emperor seemed plagued by misfortune. Over the years, pregnant consorts were few, and of the princes who reached adulthood, only Jiang Xie remained.
As the sole heir, the Crown Prince was watched closely. Tutors alone occupied half the court.
With the emperor’s constant admonitions above and ministers’ ceaseless counsel below, Jiang Xie grew bound by restraint. Unlike his bold ancestors, his nature was hesitant—one might even say indecisive. Just like today’s contest: he wished to watch, yet feared reproach from the Grand Tutor and others. So he dared not sit openly in the grandstands, but hid instead in a bamboo shed meant for common folk. Thus he neither applied himself to learning the art of governance, nor allowed himself the freedom to enjoy life.
He refused to move, and Ming Yuhe could not leave either.
The place was full of ordinary townsfolk—none should recognize the Crown Prince. Yet among the mixed crowd of all walks of life, safety was hardly guaranteed. If anything were to happen to the Crown Prince here, thanks to that hunting disappearance outside the city a few years back, Ming Yuhe, the Young Marquis, would be the first suspect. Jiang Liyang would be the second.
But Jiang Xie seemed oblivious, failing to catch his hints, and even earnestly urged, “Cousin, you should go up and watch. I’ll return to the palace in half an hour.”
Ming Yuhe sighed inwardly. “It makes no difference where I sit.” His appearance today was meant to let the capital know that “Ming Niansheng” had returned. Now that the message was delivered, leaving would be better—it would ease Luo Xinci’s guard and tempt her into revealing more flaws. Yet he had no interest in the contests outside. After sitting a while, he returned to leafing through his book.
Jiang Xie’s gaze drifted toward the pages.
Ming Yuhe noticed, his brows knitting again, though he said nothing.
The two had known each other since childhood. Ming Yuhe was closer to Jiang Liyang and often stepped in to discipline him. But with Jiang Xie, their bond was nothing more than Crown Prince and subject—dull and lifeless.
Outside, cheers thundered like waves. Inside the bamboo shed, only the occasional rustle of turning pages broke the silence. After some time, Jiang Xie suddenly whispered, “It’s been half a month since the Marquis Wuling last attended court… is he well?”
“Still holding on,” Ming Yuhe replied tersely.
Jiang Xie withdrew his gaze, sat quietly for a while, then asked, “That matter—have you found any clues?”
Ming Yuhe set down his book. “What matter does Your Highness mean?”
Jiang Xie pressed his lips together, muttered vaguely, “Nothing… I meant Grandmother’s birthday is coming soon; we should prepare the gifts in advance.”
After those few words, silence fell between them again.
It had barely quieted when commotion rose outside. The Crown Prince’s guards hesitated over whether to send men to investigate, while the Marquis’s guards knocked for instructions.
A guard entered, glanced first at Ming Yuhe, then bowed to both, and reported: “Young Master Liyang and the young lady came to blows.”
At this, both men inside were taken aback.
“Say that again.”
“Young Master Liyang quarreled with Miss Niansheng. In the heat of the moment, he laid hands on her, pushing her to the ground. Many people saw it with their own eyes.”
The guard gave more detail, then added, “I could hardly believe Young Master would do such a thing, so I questioned the maids who attend the young lady. They all witnessed it—Young Master Liyang struck first.”
Jiang Xie still could not believe it. “The young lady you mean is Ming Niansheng from Linzhou? Liyang hit her? Hit a girl?”
And not just any girl—by blood, she was his cousin. Even ordinary men would never do such a thing!
“Your Highness, it is true. And earlier, Young Master also hurled insults at her, making her cry.”
Jiang Xie turned blankly toward Ming Yuhe.
Though Jiang Liyang was of royal blood, he had been raised under the care of Princess Shao’an, his aunt, and was closer to the Marquis’s household. Now, with Princess Shao’an and the Young Prince Ning absent, it fell to Ming Yuhe, the elder cousin, to decide.
Ming Yuhe asked, “What did Niansheng say?”
“After being pushed down, the young lady wept bitterly, unable to stop. Later she forced herself to hold back tears and claimed Young Master hadn’t pushed her—that she fell on her own…”
Luo Xinci, sobbing as she defended Jiang Liyang, looked exactly like someone bullied into swallowing her tears, still speaking up for her tormentor. The sight was pitiful. And since everyone had just heard Jiang Liyang’s cruel words, they were all the more convinced she had been threatened into silence.
Seeing “Ming Niansheng” red-eyed, choking back sobs as she explained for him, while the crowd looked on with contempt, Jiang Liyang’s fury only grew. He raged all the louder.
The guard recounted further: “At first, few openly accused Young Master. But his temper flared, his words grew harsh, and just then Miss Fan Ning arrived. Outraged, she lashed her whip at him. He failed to dodge in time and was struck across the face…”
“Now Young Master has been restrained, while Miss Niansheng is protected by Miss Fan Ning and others. Seeing the situation turn grave, I hurried here to seek your orders, Young Marquis.”
This truly caught Ming Yuhe off guard. He could not yet tell whether it was an accident—or Luo Xinci’s carefully laid plan to strike back at Jiang Liyang. After weighing it, he said, “Send Liyang back to the Prince’s residence. Keep him under watch, forbid him to go out for three days. As for Niansheng…”
If this was her scheme, it was a masterstroke—three birds with one stone. First, she had struck back without lifting a blade, ruining Jiang Liyang’s reputation. From now on, whenever he targeted her, punishment would fall on him regardless of right or wrong. Second, she had won over Fan Ning. The girl was forthright, new to the capital, with few friends. This incident would bind them as close companions, giving Luo Xinci a useful ally. Third, Jiang Liyang’s ties to the royal family, the Prince’s household, and the Marquis’s estate meant all three would punish him harshly for the sake of face, while compensating “Ming Niansheng,” the neglected illegitimate daughter.
Today’s events would make “Ming Niansheng” famous in the capital. Whatever she sought to do in the future, people would remember this and show her respect.
Ming Yuhe rose and said to the Crown Prince, “An unexpected incident—best not to complicate matters. Your Highness should return to the palace at once.”
Jiang Xie had been listening intently, wanting to hear more, but feared word reaching the Grand Tutor. Regretfully, he stood. “I’ll go now. Cousin, perhaps there’s some misunderstanding in Liyang’s case. Look into it carefully—don’t be too harsh.”
Ming Yuhe nodded, arranged guards to escort him back, then fixed his gaze on the pavilion where Luo Xinci sat. He would go himself to comfort her, to see whether this was mere coincidence—or whether he had misjudged her all along, and this “sister” possessed a mind as sharp and hidden as a jade carved with seven apertures.