Li Ce, the Ninth Prince, styled Shensi, had just come of age. His mother was the Imperial Concubine Shun. In the imperial family, names were often crafted with obscure characters—partly to reflect noble distinction, and partly for ease of future taboo avoidance should the bearer ascend the throne. From his plain and unremarkable name alone, one could discern his insignificance. When he was named, the Emperor had not even considered him a candidate for heir. Thus, the Emperor's neglect was not without cause.
That year, an earthquake struck the imperial tombs. The Astronomical Office, reading the stars, observed that the Hook Star hovered between the constellations Fang and Xin, indicating an imbalance: the yang energy waned while yin flourished, throwing nature into disarray. To restore harmony, the Emperor was advised to offer one of his sons to the imperial tombs, using pure yang to counter the excess of yin.
But whom to sacrifice? Of his eight sons, the Emperor favored two for their intelligence and several others for their filial piety. The few he disliked hailed from powerful maternal clans—offending them was unwise. Just then, Li Ce was born, not yet a month old. After a brief thought, the Emperor decided: send this child to the tombs.
On his first birthday, the Emperor bestowed upon him a name—but one without grandeur. In the twenty years since, Li Ce had seldom returned to the capital. Even when he did, those within the palace treated him as an ill omen, avoiding him entirely. Often ailing, with pallid skin and a frail form, rumors in the capital painted him as a living ghost—a cursed prince born of the tombs.
Now, with Li Ce present in court, the ministers finally noticed that the prince had grown. Only now did the Emperor truly look upon him. Not bad—frail, indeed—but with a handsome visage… much like his own.
Li Ce knelt and coughed softly.
At once, a censor cried, "I impeach the Ninth Prince, Li Ce, for impropriety before His Majesty!"
The Emperor cast an impatient glance at the official. "Is he ill?" he asked.
"Replying to Father," Li Ce said, barely suppressing another cough, "This son suffers from chronic affliction and begs pardon for the offence."
The Emperor gave the censor a cold look—my son is unwell, not disrespectful. Hold your tongue. The censor backed away, clutching his tablet. The Emperor then proceeded with inquiry.
"I heard it was you who ordered the Fu family's carriage to be carried into the Imperial Avenue?"
Li Ce replied, "This son did not. I merely passed by by chance and stopped to observe the commotion. I do not know who used my name falsely."
His voice was sincere, his dark eyes gentle and clear, leaving one reluctant to accuse him further.
The Emperor waited—sure enough, soon a court official stepped forward to speak in the Ninth Prince's defense, calling the matter highly suspicious and urging an investigation to clear his name.
"Even so," the Emperor intoned gravely, "you must still be punished. A prince must not revel in common spectacles like the rabble. Have you forgotten the dignity of the royal bloodline?"
Li Ce promptly offered a second apology.
The inquiry nearly complete, and with junior officials sweltering outside, the Emperor called the matter to a close. The marriage alliance between the Duke of Anguo's household and the Fu family was annulled. The Fu family paid a thousand taels of silver in apology and instead arranged for their son to wed the daughter of the assistant minister Qin Baiwei.
Fu Mingzhu, disgraced for impropriety before marriage, was henceforth barred from the imperial examinations, from inheriting titles, and from holding office. The Prime Minister and the assistant minister were fined half a year's salary for inadequate discipline.
As for Prince Li Ce, deemed negligent of proper conduct, his annual stipend was suspended and would only resume after New Year's.
When all was said, the Emperor looked to the court. "Does anyone find this judgment lacking?"
The ministers exchanged glances and unanimously praised His Majesty's wisdom.
Yet the Ninth Prince bowed deeply and said, "This son believes Your Majesty's judgment, though fair, is not entirely thorough."
The court turned to stare at him, astonished that this obscure, tomb-bound prince would dare question imperial decree.
The Emperor, however, was not angered. "Speak, then—how is it lacking?"
Li Ce coughed hard before speaking clearly.
"Though Your Majesty's decision seems impartial, Fu Mingzhu has merely lost his chance at office. The Prime Minister and Assistant Minister have only lost some pay. Yet the daughter of the assistant minister has secured a fine marriage. Meanwhile, the Duke of Anguo's household is mocked, the betrothal annulled, and they receive but a thousand taels as compensation. I have heard that, while the Duke's house no longer holds a title, it still possesses considerable ancestral wealth. This sum means little to them. I fear this outcome will chill the hearts of the descendants of our founding heroes."
A heavy silence descended. No one dared to support him—nor refute him. Banned from office—not a severe enough punishment? Did he not see the Prime Minister trembling? And what of his own future—did he not care that he had just offended the Chancellor?
Besides, what of the Duke's house? Lacking a noble rank, what did their wealth amount to? In a few years, would they be any different from merchants?
Indeed, the annulled marriage seemed more their loss.
The Emperor's countenance darkened. Whatever good mood remained had been worn thin.
"Shensi, Shensi," he murmured, invoking the prince's courtesy name with deliberate irony, "your thoughts are indeed thorough."
Li Ce bowed his head in silence.
"Very well," said the Emperor, "I shall have you choose several gifts on behalf of the outer court, the inner palace, and the royal family itself, and present them personally to the Duke of Anguo's house. What say you?"
Though the tone carried rebuke, it was delivered like an imperial edict.
"This son obeys!" Li Ce answered loudly, seemingly unaware it had been a rhetorical question.
The Emperor flushed with frustration. Rising abruptly, he waved his hand and strode out. The chamber quickly echoed with the call to adjourn, and ministers bowed as he departed.
"Assistant Minister Qin, good news!" a courtier said as they helped Qin Luohui to his feet outside. "His Majesty has spoken—the young lady has found herself an excellent match!"
Though the groom's reputation was poor, at least Qin Baiwei would not be made a concubine.
Qin Luohui, face flushed with shame, covered it with his sleeve.
The Prime Minister staggered slightly as he walked. The son he had so painstakingly raised had, for lust and folly, destroyed his future. Aligning with the Duke's house had been a gesture of goodwill toward a founding family—meant to polish the Chancellor's reputation. Though most nobles and officials avoided the Duke's house, the Chancellor knew that their ancient scandal had passed twelve years ago. They had remained unscathed since—proof enough of their survival skills.
What use was an assistant minister at the Ministry of Personnel? The Fu family was of the "pure stream" and scorned political alliances.
Sweat soaked his court robes, and soon the heat left even his sweat behind. Scorched by the sun outside the palace, the Prime Minister grew dizzy, nearly fainting.
Nearby, ministers chatted as they passed him.
"Had today's events not reminded me, I'd forgotten the Duke of Anguo's house even existed."
"Indeed. They've no title—what kind of noble house is that? So what if they have estates? In a few years, they'll be no better than merchants."
"In that case, losing this marriage is truly their misfortune."
Chuckling, the ministers moved on.
An attendant stopped the Ninth Prince as he turned toward the inner palace.
"Your Highness, where are you going?"
"To the storerooms, of course," said Li Ce. "Did you not hear Father's decree? Fetch a carriage—if it's to be a proper visit, we must present ourselves accordingly."
"Your Highness," the attendant said cautiously, "it is not the abundance of gifts, but the sentiment that matters."
"True," Li Ce nodded, feigning innocence, "then open the innermost storeroom. I'll choose with care."
That innermost storeroom, of course, held the Empire's finest treasures.
The attendant shot him a sidelong glance and sighed inwardly. What a fool. Could he not tell the Emperor was displeased? Look at how eager he was—one might think he was off to visit his future in-laws.
Before noon, Ye Rou returned home in a panic. With tears in her eyes, she greeted her mother, then went in search of her sister, Ye Jiao.
Ye Jiao was playing with a bow and arrow. Seeing her sister, she smiled and asked, "Sister, why have you come back? Did brother-in-law come fetch you?"
A married daughter would not normally return home unescorted.
"With such calamity in our family, how could I stay away?" Ye Rou's tears fell. "Your brother-in-law came back from the yamen today, and only then did I learn that Fu…"