Xu Ning silently observed Miao Qing's careful actions. She concealed her disdain for the ministers and officers well, only letting it slip through subtle words meant to anger him. As expected of a palace woman—none of them were ordinary. While others might have continued to fan the flames of discord, Miao Qing clearly knew when to stop.
It was a display of restraint, cunning, and experience.
Xu Ning also realized that the original host wasn't simple either. In the ruthless struggle for the throne, he had taken the initiative to support Li Wen and had witnessed much of the imperial court's darkness. But despite that, he was still quite foolish—because he had somehow managed to offend nearly every man in the palace.
In the end, it boiled down to his own arrogance. He looked down on the male courtiers who relied on flirtation and feminine charm to gain favor. He despised their sycophancy. So much so that when the imperial marriage was bestowed upon him, not a single soul stood up to speak on his behalf. Everyone silently agreed to send him away. That, too, was impressive in its own way—after all, it took effort to be disliked by everyone.
After a moment of thought, Xu Ning instructed coldly, "Record all of this and return gifts according to the usual standard."
Miao Qing and Yuan Dong, who were sorting through the tribute items, froze. The prince never sent return gifts. This sudden command left them stunned. But as seasoned palace maids, they quickly composed themselves.
Interactions in the palace had always been a matter of reciprocity. The original host's habit of only accepting gifts without offering any in return had clearly conveyed that he didn't care to maintain connections with the officials. It was an offensive act in itself.
The prince was notoriously willful. The men in the palace might have cursed him behind his back, but none dared act against him directly. A wall only crumbles when enough people push. The downfall of the original host had many contributing factors.
"Prince, do you truly wish to give return gifts?" Miao Qing asked cautiously. "Doing so is... giving them face."
Xu Ning merely cast her a glance without speaking.
That single look was enough to unsettle her. She and Yuan Dong had seen firsthand the pain the prince had been in. Now, the calmness he exuded was almost terrifying. Had he gone mad from the suffering?
Of course, they could only wonder in silence.
Though reluctant, the two maids acted quickly. They sorted the gifts and sent appropriate return gifts to each official and minister, calibrated according to their positions and offerings.
The recipients were stunned. Prince Jiahui had actually sent return gifts? Their emotions were a complex mixture of surprise, suspicion, and awe—but for now, those reactions need not be discussed in detail.
Xu Ning briefly considered seeking out Hua Jin—but dismissed the thought immediately.
By now, Hua Jin had likely already been rescued by Mo Chen. What use would his presence serve? Besides, if a prince wanted to leave the palace, it required an elaborate entourage, complete with security and ceremonial formality. By the time he reached the frontier, the meal would have long grown cold.
If there was truly love between Hua Jin and Mo Chen, then fate would weave their threads tightly together.
The two had met without intermediaries. Mo Chen had tended to Hua Jin's wounds personally. In the closeness of care and recovery, their bodies had touched, their familiarity deepened—and affection had naturally blossomed. Like dry wood catching flame, love ignited. It was genuine.
Xu Ning's true mission would begin only when Hua Jin brought Mo Chen back to the capital. Until then, his focus should remain on recovery—and more importantly, regaining the Emperor's favor. If he wished to avoid another imperial marriage decree, he had to raise his own value.
But what could he do for Li Wen?
There were already too many people fetching tea and water. Winning the Emperor's affection through small gestures might not amount to much, but slowly nurturing brotherly closeness wouldn't be a waste either.
Xu Ning threw himself into recovery wholeheartedly. Yet not once did he smile. This worried Miao Qing and Yuan Dong immensely.
They treaded on eggshells around him. Miao Qing no longer dared to test his temper. Xu Ning noticed that Yuan Dong's eyes were slightly red, but every time he asked, she would brush it off, blaming it on squinting too much or claiming she had trachoma.
He didn't press.
But when he glanced at the two maids, his eyes carried a quiet intensity. That unreadable gaze unsettled them even further. It felt as if the prince could peer directly into the hidden recesses of their hearts.
Frightened, Miao Qing and Yuan Dong became even more cautious and attentive in their service.
Xu Ning's days passed in relative peace, his every need cared for with precision and care. He hadn't expected such an outcome—such comfort born from fear. Yet, he accepted it with quiet equanimity.