“Impudent!” Cui Weijin shouted sharply, his tall figure blocking Zheng Yingying, his expression dark.
“It seems three months of house arrest are still insufficient for reflection. Send someone—”
“Lord Cui!”
Princess Ming Zhao, with tears glistening like pear blossoms in the rain, looked up at him. “Do not blame Second Miss Zheng. It is all my fault.”
Sobbing, she continued, “I was at fault. Growing up in Lingyang without supervision, I caused trouble everywhere and annoyed everyone I met.”
“That is why Second Miss Zheng becomes angry just seeing me. It is entirely my fault. I have implicated her reputation!”
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Lord Cui, Imperial Father said I need a teacher to discipline me, and he was absolutely right. Today, I have come to once again humbly request you…”
“In all of Ye City, who else could possibly teach a wayward child like me besides you?”
Every word placed the blame squarely on herself, belittling herself completely.
Then she deliberately coughed, as if she might collapse at any second.
The older official sighed, stroking his beard. “The Princess shows such dedication to learning—it is truly a blessing to His Majesty and fortunate for the realm.”
“Lord Cui is learned and virtuous; teaching the Princess would indeed be the best choice.”
“Exactly what Elder Zhang says,” someone added. “A few pointers from Lord Cui would greatly benefit the royal family.”
“The Princess’s sincere desire to learn is touching; let Lord Cui fulfill it!” another official urged.
“Yes, with Lord Cui’s guidance, the Princess will surely settle her mind and understand propriety,” said another.
The murmurs of agreement swelled around them, all framing Cui Weijin teaching the Princess as a great merit.
Cui Weijin found himself in a dilemma.
Agreeing would mean silently allowing this incessant troublemaker to draw closer.
Refusing would ignore the Princess’s apparent remorse and the goodwill of others, and might even confirm suspicions of favoritism toward the Zheng Family.
He noticed a flicker of triumph in Princess Ming Zhao’s eyes and recalled her hand clutching his sleeve lightly.
In an instant, the earlier events connected in his mind.
The careful positioning under the wax plum tree, the consultation in the office, today’s dispute at the gate, her tearful plea, the officials’ agreement… none of it was accidental.
She had exploited Zheng Yingying’s impulsiveness, the goodwill of the onlookers, and the rules and decorum he had to maintain, forcing him to take a stand publicly.
Usually, he remained outside the game board, calculating and weighing others, yet today a little fox had outplayed him.
Although her head was bowed, Princess Ming Zhao’s peripheral vision captured the suspicion on Cui Weijin’s face.
Inside, the little schemer in her heart crossed her arms and laughed aloud.
“Ha! Playing mind games with the Princess? Child’s play!”
“I am Niuhulu·Princess Ming Zhao, a Level-10 researcher in Zhen Studies!”
Finally, Cui Weijin spoke slowly, “The Princess has a heart for learning; how could I dare refuse?”
“However, teaching the Princess is no trivial matter. I must consider it carefully, report to His Majesty, and finalize the procedures before making a decision.”
He did not immediately agree, but he did not refuse either.
A sly glint appeared in Princess Ming Zhao’s eyes before she quickly masked it with weakness. “Thank you, Lord Cui, for granting this.”
Her self-directed performance had achieved complete victory under the guise of illness.
…
Lanzhi Palace.
Princess Ming Zhao kicked off her embroidered shoes and collapsed barefoot onto the soft couch.
“Finally back!” She stretched, the carefully maintained frailty and tears from earlier entirely gone.
Cuiguo moved quickly, shutting doors and windows, then brought a cup of hot tea to her. “Princess, you are incredible! Lord Cui actually gave in! Everyone outside must have heard—he publicly scolded Second Miss Zheng and agreed to teach you!”
Princess Ming Zhao took the tea, blowing on it. “This was exactly the effect I wanted.”
“Everyone should believe Cui Weijin stands on my side.”
Cuiguo’s eyes sparkled with admiration. After a moment, she hesitated. “But Princess, I still don’t quite understand…”
“What don’t you understand?” Princess Ming Zhao asked, her mood cheerful.
“How did you know Second Miss Zheng would go to the Ministry office today? What if she hadn’t?” Cuiguo asked cautiously.
Princess Ming Zhao set down her tea and chuckled softly. “Silly girl, do you think your Princess is some kind of fortune teller? I couldn’t possibly have predicted it so accurately.”
“Zheng Yingying going to the Ministry to submit her punishment was an accident. Even if she hadn’t gone, I would have found a way to get Cui Weijin to agree. But…”
“Well, thanks to her, the matter was resolved so quickly.”
Cuiguo finally understood. “Second Miss Zheng—she clearly bears a grudge against you. Every time she sees you, she’s like a ruffled hen.”
Princess Ming Zhao’s smile softened, and she thought aloud. “Grudge?”
She remembered it beginning around the age of five.
It was early winter, and five-year-old Princess Ming Zhao, dressed in a thick embroidered coat and pampered to perfection, was clumsily chasing a yellow butterfly.
Suddenly, a few figures blocked her path.
At the front was a little girl in a red-gold coat, round-faced but fierce-eyed, hands on her hips—five-year-old Zheng Yingying.
Two taller maids followed behind her, glaring.
Zheng Yingying pointed at the small Princess Ming Zhao’s nose. “How dare you say our Zheng Family will harm Imperial Father and your brother?”
She spoke arrogantly. “Do you know without our Zheng Family’s consent, your Imperial Father could not hold his position, nor could you be Princess?”
The little Princess Ming Zhao lifted her chin stubbornly. “I didn’t say it recklessly. I dreamed it!”
“I dreamed your Zheng Family would harm Imperial Father, my brother, and even me!”
Unable to explain the book-world scenarios in her mind, she spoke in the only way a child could.
“Dream?” Zheng Yingying laughed scornfully. “A dream and you take it seriously? Dreams cannot be true.”
In modern terms, Zheng Yingying was a staunch materialist, disbelieving in dreams or illusions.
She stepped forward, shoving the little Princess Ming Zhao’s shoulder. “See if I don’t tear that nonsense from your mouth!”
The little Princess stumbled back but retaliated, and the two girls tumbled into a scuffle, pulling hair and slapping faces.
The nearby maids dared not intervene strongly, only panicking and calling, “Little masters, stop fighting!”
The tussle rolled them to the steps by the water pavilion.
Zheng Yingying, slightly bigger, mounted the small Princess, raising her hand to strike.
The little Princess Ming Zhao panicked, pushed wildly, and Zheng Yingying screamed, losing her balance and falling into the thinly frozen pond.
The commotion instantly escalated.
Princess Ming Zhao’s tone was calm, as if narrating someone else’s story: “Later, Imperial Father came, and members of the Zheng Family also arrived.”
“I still remember Imperial Father’s eyes—shocked, disappointed.”
“Afterward, citing my ‘madness and disrespect toward ancestors requiring rest,’ Imperial Father sent me out of Ye City to Lingyang.”