“You are a royal heir, the female royal heir of Northern Yue.”
Wasn’t Zi Sang Zhen simply a royal heir? Since childhood, she had known she was a royal heir—what did being male or female have to do with it?
Jin Yu offered no further explanation, instead gently ruffling her hair. “We’ll discuss this later when we go to your mother.”
Newly come of age, Zi Sang Zhen felt a persistent discomfort with everything around her. Though Jin Yu provided her with soft cotton cloth, the unease remained.
Walking felt particularly awkward, but Jin Yu insisted on emphasizing proper etiquette. Forced to endure the discomfort, Zi Sang Zhen couldn’t help but complain, “It’s so troublesome and painful—I wish it just didn’t exist!”
Faced with her complaints, Jin Yu remained gentle. Putting away the items in her hands, she softly instructed, “If it didn’t exist, you would lose the ability to bear life as a woman.”
“So what if it’s gone? It’s no big deal!” Still a child at heart, Zi Sang Zhen saw no issue with this.
Jin Yu simply smiled. She had considered leaving it unsaid but decided it was necessary to correct this notion. “Indeed, it may not seem like a big deal, but this is a right bestowed upon women by heaven. You may choose not to use it, but it must never be taken from you by others.”
Zi Sang Zhen didn’t fully grasp her meaning, yet something in her subconscious recognized the truth in those words, and she nodded vaguely.
Though Zi Sang Zhen outwardly agreed, Jin Yu, having accompanied her for years, could easily see the lingering dissatisfaction in her heart. Still, this was a rite of passage for women, and for now, she had to endure it.
Jin Yu did have ways to ease such troubles, but…
She shook her head, refusing to dwell on it. She couldn’t guide Zi Sang Zhen—this was the decision the three of them had made long ago. Her life should be shaped by her own choices.
Yet whether the plans they had laid years ago could still be carried out now hinged entirely on a single decision from Zi Sang Zhen.
“Your Highness,” Jin Yu led Zi Sang Zhen to the left wing, where Zi Sang Mu resided. “The young princess has grown up.”
Zi Sang Mu had been engrossed in a book, paying little attention to Jin Yu’s call. But the words “grown up” instantly clarified the purpose of Jin Yu’s visit.
She slowly closed her eyes, remaining silent for a long while. Only when Zi Sang Zhen approached with her awkward steps did she gradually open them again.
Seeing Zi Sang Mu’s apparent reluctance to acknowledge her, Zi Sang grew anxious, fearing she had committed some breach of etiquette. Her nervousness mounted.
“Mother…” she murmured, guilt-ridden and uncertain.
If she had to pinpoint a reason, it might have been yesterday, after resting, when she sought out Qian Yu for a sparring match. She lost, and later that night, while Qian Yu slept, she secretly shaved off his eyebrows.
But it was still early morning now—even if Qian Yu wanted to complain, he shouldn’t have woken up this early.
Just as Zi Sang Zhen was about to kneel and apologize without further thought, Zi Sang Mu seemed to reach a realization. She waved her hand, beckoning Zi Sang Zhen closer.
“Mother…” Zi Sang Zhen called again, timidly.
Zi Sang Mu gestured for her to come near, gently smoothing the disheveled hair at her roots—a result of rushing over so early. With a sigh, she avoided meeting Zi Sang Zhen’s eyes, instead pulling her into an embrace, savoring the warmth of her presence.
“I’m truly sorry for arbitrarily deciding the first half of your life.” She gently kissed Zi Sang Zhen’s forehead.
Zi Sang Zhen couldn’t understand what she meant. “What arbitrary decision? Haven’t I been very happy?”
Jin Yu slightly parted her lips, wanting to speak but then closing them again. This wasn’t something she, an outsider, should involve herself in—this was a conversation between mother and daughter.
“Do you know that there were originally two kingdoms here? One called Northern Yue, the other called Southern Zhen. I am from Southern Zhen, but unfortunately, Southern Zhen was defeated by Northern Yue fifteen years ago. Now Southern Zhen is a vassal state of Northern Yue.”
Zi Sang Zhen nodded, indicating she knew. Jin Yu had told her these things.
Zi Sang Mu let out a heavy breath before speaking. “I am from Southern Zhen, but you are not only from Southern Zhen—you are also from Northern Yue.”
“In Northern Yue, men rule, while in Southern Zhen, women predominantly hold power. In Southern Zhen, you should have been a prince, but in Northern Yue, you should be a princess. I’m sorry for always telling you that you are a prince—I had my own selfish reasons. But your life is ultimately yours to live, so I’m sorry for arbitrarily deciding the first half of your life.”
Zi Sang Zhen could sense her mother’s troubled emotions, but she couldn’t fully grasp them. In their life together as a family of four, she hadn’t noticed anything unusual. Without comparison, there naturally wouldn’t be any distinction.
She naturally raised her head, tightly embracing her mother, revealing her bright, large eyes. “We shouldn’t apologize, Mother. You are my origin, and I am your continuation.”
Zi Sang Mu stood up and gently pulled Zi Sang Zhen away, turning her back to her. “But you have the right to choose—whether to continue pretending to be male as a prince or to restore your identity as a woman and become a princess.”
Zi Sang Zhen lowered her head, carefully weighing her words, looking at her mother with confusion. Yet, her stubborn heart was stronger than any inclination to compromise. “But what does it matter whether I’m male or female? Am I not fine as I am now? Isn’t our current life enough?” Zi Sang Zhen thought simply—wouldn’t it be nice to live quietly here like this forever?
Wasn’t the life before not good enough?
Zi Sang Mu closed her eyes, forcing the words out. “Of course it’s not enough. When you have the chance to contend for power, I don’t want you to live like this. Moreover, in Northern Yue, you would become a tool for political marriages and childbearing! And I don’t want you to become that tool!”
Zi Sang Zhen wanted to say something but was immediately interrupted by Zi Sang Mu. “I’ll give you seven days to think carefully and tell me whether you want to be a ‘prince’ or a ‘princess.'”
She turned around and slowly stroked Zi Sang Zhen’s hair, suppressing her unease. “If you choose to remain a prince, Jin Yu and I will help you ascend to the throne as emperor. If you wish to return to being a princess… we would also be very happy.”
From beginning to end, Zi Sang Mu never looked her directly in the eyes.
Zi Sang Zhen knelt on the ground, unable to see her mother’s gaze. She didn’t know what she wanted, nor could she know what her future would be like.
In just one short morning, she had first experienced the shock of a “terminal illness,” and now she felt “abandoned” by her mother.
She couldn’t understand why. She knew nothing, yet now she was being forced to choose.
Choose what?
What choice could she make?
What difference is there between men and women?
Just because women have the power to bear children, does that mean they should be denied other rights? What kind of logic is that! What kind of rule is that!
Of course, Zi Sang Zhen didn’t know—how could she possibly know what the future held?
“Mother!” Just as Zi Sang Mu was about to turn and leave, Zi Sang Zhen’s sudden cry halted her resolute steps.
She turned to look at Zi Sang Zhen, and only then did Zi Sang Zhen notice, almost by accident, a faint trace of tears at the corner of Zi Sang Mu’s eyes!
The questions on the tip of her tongue were swallowed back in an instant. “Mother! Why are you so eager for me to become a prince?”
Zi Sang Mu gazed at the face so strikingly similar to her own, as if all time had rewound to that very first battlefield—it was her own fault, her own sentimentality, that had led to everything now.
She couldn’t bring herself to speak harshly to Zi Sang Zhen, nor could she deceive the child who looked up to her with such unwavering devotion.
It took a long moment before she finally replied.
“Because to me, you are the ‘prince,’ regardless of gender.”
In Zi Sang Mu’s homeland, it had always been the case that regardless of gender, as long as they were the heir, they could seize power. To them, their child was the “prince,” and could only ever be the prince.
But now they were in the Kingdom of Bei Yue. She had the right to choose either path.
Though she was Zi Sang Zhen’s mother, she couldn’t force her child to walk the path she had laid out. Now, she was returning the power of choice to her.
Prince or princess—it was up to her.
“But now, you must choose, and you will choose.”
“In the Kingdom of Bei Yue, ‘princes’ endure hardships to rise above others, while princesses need only abide by their duties, living in peace and contentment.” Zi Sang Mu paused, softening her tone as much as possible. “No matter what, Mother will always love you.”
With those words, she left, leaving only Jin Yu and Zi Sang Zhen standing there.
“Your Highness…” Jin Yu was about to offer a few words of comfort when a roar erupted from outside.
“You little brat! What have you done!” Qian Yu’s sudden outburst shattered the lingering tension.
Interrupted, Jin Yu turned to look and saw a pair of exceptionally clear eyes.
But above those eyes, there wasn’t a single strand of hair, making the forehead appear unusually broad and bare. The sight instantly dispelled Zi Sang Zhen’s heavy mood.
“Pfft.”
“Pfft.”
Seeing both of them laugh only fueled Qian Yu’s anger further!
“You little rascal, how dare you laugh! You’ll run ten extra laps later! And add ten pounds to the stone weights!” He then turned to glare at Jin Yu. “You’re laughing at me too?!”
Faced with Qian Yu’s accusation, Jin Yu quickly stifled his laughter and raised his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare.”
“I don’t care if you dare or not! Zi Sang Zhen! Get out here!” Qian Yu was practically breathing fire, glaring coldly at everyone as he barked for Zi Sang Zhen to come over.
Zi Sang Zhen walked to the doorway, and Jin Yu called out to her, “Come find me tonight.”
Zi Sang Zhen paused for a moment, then gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“Straighten your legs!”
Qian Yu was the only one who had never treated Zi Sang Zhen gently.
As a child, Zi Sang Zhen once believed Qian Yu held a grudge against her, going out of his way to torment her every time.
At first, Zi Sang Zhen would still cry and make a fuss, and Jin Yu would comfort her. Even the stern Empress Mother would show a trace of reluctance on her face. Only Qian Yu showed no sympathy at all. Instead, because of her crying, he added an extra quarter-hour to her horse stance.
But it was precisely because of Qian Yu’s severity that, apart from her innate talent, Zi Sang Zhen also had acquired diligence. Now, ordinary people could no longer get close to her.
Even the Zi Sang Mu of the past could not compare to the present Zi Sang Zhen. “A strict teacher produces outstanding disciples” was not just an empty saying—Qian Yu truly imparted everything he had learned throughout his life.
Zi Sang Zhen was also determined. Although she resented Qian Yu during every training session, he was still like family to her. Even if he was strict, it was not true abuse or torment.
The four of them lived in the Cold Palace of the Northern Yue Kingdom, but Qian Yu, relying on his exceptional lightweight skill, often left the palace. Sometimes he went out to find work and earn money, and other times he went to buy things. And every year on Zi Sang Zhen’s birthday, he would take her out of the palace to play.
Thus, Zi Sang Zhen’s affection for Qian Yu was actually no less than her affection for Jin Yu and the Empress Mother.
But today, Zi Sang Zhen encountered an unexpected situation.
If it were the Zi Sang Zhen from before today, facing an additional ten-pound stone weight would have been difficult at most, but she would not have been unable to endure it. However, what Zi Sang Zhen now found unbearable was not just the weight but, more importantly, the strange changes in her body.
The unusual bloating and pain in her lower abdomen left her at a loss, nearly causing her to collapse.
Fortunately, Qian Yu was always attentive to Zi Sang Zhen’s condition. When her strength gave out, he caught her with one hand and, with the other, channeled his internal energy to push away the stone weight, sparing her from being crushed by it.
Qian Yu immediately took her pulse. As he did so, his expression shifted, and like Jin Yu, he revealed that look that left Zi Sang Zhen feeling unsettled.
What were they hiding from her?
Zi Sang Zhen did not know. She wanted to ask, but she worried she had no right to inquire. She could only close her eyes and try to ease the pain in her body.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Qian Yu’s eyes held a hint of reproach.
Zi Sang Zhen wanted to retort immediately, but what came out was, “I’m fine. Why emphasize this? Haven’t the past six or seven years been spent like this?”
“But you’re different now!” Qian Yu, seeing Zi Sang Zhen’s puzzled expression, fell into a low mood and finally resignedly conceded, “It’s Jin Yu’s and my fault.”
With that, Qian Yu picked up Zi Sang Zhen and carried her inside to rest.
Zi Sang Zhen could not understand why Qian Yu’s expression had suddenly changed. She struggled a little, but Qian Yu’s strength was simply too great, and coupled with her current weakness, she ultimately resigned herself to it.
“I’ll go tell Jin Yu in a moment!”
“Go ahead,” Qian Yu did not take Zi Sang Zhen’s threat seriously at all.
“…”
The Twilight Spring Palace was not large, and Jin Yu must have heard Zi Sang Zhen’s call. Not long after Qian Yu placed her on the bed, Jin Yu entered, carrying a bowl of brown sugar water.
“Drink this, and you’ll feel more comfortable.”
Zi Sang Zhen stole a few glances at the two of them, but neither showed a smile. She could only suppress her displeasure, lower her head, and slowly sip the drink.
Jin Yu sat at the edge of Zi Sang Zhen’s bed. This was the first time today that Zi Sang Zhen saw Jin Yu’s relaxed expression. Jin Yu reached out and gently stroked Zi Sang Zhen, who was drinking the brown sugar water.
“We were too carried away, focusing only on teaching you knowledge and cultivation methods, and forgot to teach you these common-sense things in advance.”
“You are a woman, and upon reaching adulthood, you will inevitably face suffering, destined to be weaker than others. This is a joke the Creator has played on us.” Jin Yu let out a long sigh, pausing to observe Zi Sang Zhen’s reaction. However, the latter showed no surprise, merely lifting her head slightly to gaze at Jin Yu.
“But I don’t believe I am weaker than others, just like the Empress Mother.”
Jin Yu chuckled, “Indeed, Your Highness once fought one against a hundred!”
Jokes aside, the matter still needed explanation. “The Kingdom of North Yue is not like the Kingdom of South Zhen. In South Zhen, regardless of gender, anyone born into the royal family is a prince or princess with the right to become emperor. But in North Yue, only men can be princes. If you wish to become emperor, you must be a ‘man.'”
“So, that’s why I am a ‘female’ prince?”
Jin Yu smiled gently, stroking her lower abdomen. “Yes, you already possess the power to nurture life—a gift bestowed upon women by heaven. Yet in the eyes of North Yue, this is seen as a mark of unworthiness. You are a prince, but in front of others, you must only be a man, because women are not deemed worthy…”
“I don’t care about worthiness. I am who I am meant to be. What is mine, I will claim; what is not, I will seize it anyway!”
With this explanation, Zi Sang Zhen quickly understood. The secret they had kept from her was likely related to her gender. Without hesitation, she cut straight to the heart of the matter. “You hid my gender and made me a ‘prince’ to use me?”
This was the first time Zi Sang Zhen had questioned the two of them in such an accusatory tone. She had always held them in the highest regard, but now, faced with the truth so close at hand, she felt a chill run down her spine.
Neither of them responded to her question, which was tantamount to an admission.
A wave of revulsion washed over Zi Sang Zhen. Emotions surged within her, but she did her best to maintain her composure, shedding the innocence of a child.
In that moment, the imposing aura of a royal emperor descended upon her.
Faced with this version of Zi Sang Zhen, Jin Yu felt deeply satisfied. Zi Sang Zhen was their shared protégé, born and “custom-made” for that high position.
“Kneel!”
At this moment, Zi Sang Zhen was no longer their child. She was their master, their emperor, their pride.
“Answer me!”
Jin Yu and Qian Yu knelt almost without hesitation, though a smile lingered on Jin Yu’s face. In this moment, she was the subject, and Zi Sang Zhen was the sovereign.
Zi Sang Zhen naturally straightened her posture, hardening her resolve. “I ask again, are you using me?”
Jin Yu shook her head, looking up into those disbelieving eyes. “You are our wager. We have merely nurtured you into a talent, but the final choice lies in your hands. Your Highness said earlier today—whether you are a princess or a prince is for you to decide.”
“We are merely cultivators, but we will not choose the direction of your growth for you.”
Kneeling on the ground, Jin Yu calmly inquired about Zi Sang Zhen’s stance. “So, my little Highness, what will you choose?