Chapter 117

The Imperial Censorate supervised all officials, and naturally, they were also responsible for recording the words and actions of civil and military officials as they waited before court each morning. For this reason, Su Huaijing always arrived earlier than most.

After an eventful morning, the first light of dawn had already begun to scatter by the time he stepped out. By the time his carriage pulled up at the Supreme Harmony Gate and he made his way on foot, the Chief Superintendent of Ceremonies was already preparing to announce the start of court.

Su Huaijing quickened his pace to take his designated position. The current Deputy Censor-in-Chief, Zhou Gang, cast him a glance and smiled. “Slept in today?”

Su Huaijing lowered his head in a display of junior deference. “It was cold, and I was feeling lazy, so I stayed in bed a little longer. I beg Lord Zhou’s pardon.”

“What is there to pardon?” Zhou Gang chuckled. “After the Longevity Festival, I’ll be retiring before the year’s end. Once I leave, the position of Deputy Censor-in-Chief will be vacant. You’ll need to take over.”

Su Huaijing’s expression sharpened slightly. He clasped his hands together and replied solemnly, “I am grateful for your guidance, my lord.”

Zhou Gang waved him off. “No need for empty words. Whatever I taught you is barely a tenth of what you brought with you.”

His gaze turned towards the grand doors of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, deep in thought, and he said no more.

The palace gates opened, the eunuchs announced the start of court, and Su Huaijing took his place in the line of officials. He stood through an hour-long session, and as court was dismissed, he deliberately slowed his pace. The Second Prince, who was surrounded by attendants, noticed and naturally drifted over, greeting him with an easy smile. “Good morning, Excellency Su.”

Su Huaijing returned the greeting with a faint smile. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

Sheng Chengming asked, “Are you heading to the Censorate?”

Su Huaijing nodded. Sheng Chengming made his farewells to those around him and subtly widened the distance between them.

Once the lingering crowd had dispersed, his expression shifted to half impatience, half earnestness. “Sir—”

Su Huaijing interrupted him with an idle question. “Your Highness is nineteen this year?”

Sheng Chengming was briefly taken aback. The urgency in his demeanour ebbed somewhat as he answered, “Yes.”

“Have you considered requesting a princedom from His Majesty?”

The autumn air in the capital was crisp and dry. Su Huaijing’s voice was light, almost dissolving into the wind, as if he had never spoken at all.

Yet Sheng Chengming came to an abrupt halt, frozen mid-step.

Su Huaijing had to stop as well, turning back to glance at him before prompting, “Your Highness?”

After court, every official was expected to return to their respective offices. Though the main crowd had dispersed, some lingering gazes still observed them, deliberate or otherwise. Sheng Chengming snapped back to attention, steadied himself, and resumed walking alongside Su Huaijing. His voice was steady again when he spoke, “Sir, would you be free to meet tonight?”

Su Huaijing’s expression remained unchanged. “Liujin Parlour.”

“Many thanks, Sir.” Sheng Chengming nodded before parting in another direction.

Su Huaijing suddenly felt a tinge of boredom. Sheng Chengming, after all, wasn’t quite clever enough. Had it been Rong Tang, Ke Hongxue, or Mu Jingxu standing in his place, they would have understood his meaning the moment he spoke. There would have been no need to set another time for further discussion.

Still, the thought of Rong Tang made him unconsciously curve his lips. His mood lightened.

The skies were bright and the autumn air crisp, yet for once, he found himself wishing to return home and nap with Tangtang in his arms.

Sighing lightly at the inescapable demands of work, he made his way towards the palace gates. His gaze flickered idly across the distance… only to meet someone on their way to the Imperial Academy.

Ke Hongxue yawned, spotted him, and came to a stop, waiting with a lazy grin. As Su Huaijing approached, he raised a hand in greeting. “Good morning, Excellency Su.”

A slow, knowing smile spread across Su Huaijing’s lips. He had finally found someone to boast to. “How did you know Tangtang rewarded me this morning?”

Ke Hongxue: “?”

The hand he had raised froze mid-air.

For a moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to slap the smirk off Su Huaijing’s face.

God, you are insufferable.

…

Rong Tang was always drowsy when the seasons changed. When he finally roused himself from his sleep, he sat there in a daze, mind blank. Then, a memory from earlier flashed through his mind.

In an instant, his entire body stiffened. The tips of his ears turned red.

The young prince was silent for what felt like a century. Lowering his gaze, he stared at his hands, instinctively wanting to cover his face… only to suddenly remember exactly where these hands had been earlier that morning.

He froze mid-motion, holding back for a long time before finally murmuring, “…Shit.”

[You’re awake?]

The system materialised, its tone one of serene detachment, as if it had long since accepted the absurdity of its host’s existence. [Do you remember what you did for your wife this morning?]

By now, it had come to terms with the fact that its host was a sentient cabbage with legs. Instead of fretting over him being taken advantage of, it had decided to sit back and enjoy the spectacle. Mocking him along the way was simply a bonus.

Now fully at ease with its position, the system was delighted.

[You’ve really outdone yourself,] it drawled. [Not only did you fail to cure yourself with a physician, but the main villain hadn’t even said a word before you took the initiative?]

[You do realise that if not for your legal marriage, this would be considered sexual harassment, right?]

“…” Rong Tang: “Shut up.”

[Oh, so you only know how to bully me.] The system taunted him.

Rong Tang chose silence. After freshening up, he went to the study and copied two Buddhist scriptures, hoping to suppress the increasingly inappropriate images that kept surfacing in his mind.

By late afternoon, his steward reported that Su Huaijing had an engagement that evening and wouldn’t be home for some time. Rong Tang sat in the courtyard, idly stargazing, when a knock sounded at the moon gate.

He turned his head lazily.

Ke Hongxue stood there in robes of a flirtatious shade of pink, a folding fan swaying in his hand. His grin was dazzling, half-playful, half-roguish, as he asked, “Prince, fancy going out?”

Rong Tang blinked, suddenly struck with a sense of deja vu. It felt as though this very scene had played out countless times before.

After a moment’s hesitation, he asked, “Where to?”

Ke Hongxue’s peach blossom eyes curved in amusement. He took his time answering, “Fengyue House.”

…

The third floor of the Liujin Parlour.

Su Huaijing sat by the window, waiting. He was somewhat tired, and somewhat bored.

It had been a long time since he last met Sheng Chengming here. Returning now, it felt almost like a lifetime ago.

He waited for a while before the door was finally pushed open. Sheng Chengming stepped inside and said, “I was delayed. Excellency Su, I hope you won’t hold it against me.”

Hearing the change in address, Su Huaijing raised his eyes slightly, his expression unreadable. He rose and saluted, “Greetings, Your Highness.”

The door closed behind them, and guards took their positions outside. Sheng Chengming stared at Su Huaijing for a few moments before finally taking a seat.

Su Huaijing poured him a cup of wine and placed it in front of him, speaking warmly, “Your Highness is angry.”

“I’m not.” Sheng Chengming instinctively denied it but soon lowered his head in frustration. “I just don’t understand. Why did you persuade me to request a title as a prince?”

With the crown prince yet to be decided, being granted a title too early might seem like an honour, but in reality, it meant stepping away from the fight for succession. In the history of Dayu, no prince had ever voluntarily requested a title and distanced himself from the capital’s political centre before the age of twenty.

The throne, which was a position that millions could only dream of, was within their reach. No one would willingly give up the chance to fight for it.

Su Huaijing set the wine cup before Sheng Chengming, poured himself a drink, but did not take a sip. Instead, he asked unhurriedly, “How has Your Highness been lately?”

Sheng Chengming was puzzled, but in front of Su Huaijing, he had long developed the habit of holding back his displeasure.

After a moment of silence, he picked up the cup and drained it in one gulp, as if swallowing his pent-up frustration along with the liquor.

“My mother gave birth to my eighth brother. I should be happy, but…”

He hesitated. Su Huaijing finished the sentence for him, “But Senior Official Zhang keeps delaying, repeatedly postponing Your Highness’s requests. And when pressured, he brings up the former Governor of Jiangnan, Lord Lu?”

Sheng Chengming sighed. “Sir has always been perceptive.”

Su Huaijing chuckled. “It’s not perception, merely that Your Highness has never guarded against me.”

He continued, “His Majesty is in his prime, and the capital’s political situation remains unstable. In the six months since the Third Prince entered the court, he has not been idle.” Su Huaijing paused briefly. “At the very least, with Marshal Xia still in power, the Third Prince’s faction has not been completely suppressed by Your Highness.”

Sheng Chengming’s gaze darkened at those unvarnished words.

Su Huaijing continued, “Marshal Xia wields immense military power, making his family’s dominance increasingly apparent… so much so that he risks overshadowing the emperor himself. Meanwhile, Concubine Hui has always been domineering in the harem; even the Empress must show her some deference. Not to mention, she has given birth to both the Third and Sixth Princes.”

“The Xia family’s ambitions for the throne are no secret. Though the Emperor does not openly address it, that does not mean he is indifferent to such schemes.”

Pouring another drink for Sheng Chengming, Su Huaijing analysed the situation methodically. “The Third Prince has been repeatedly outshone by Your Highness in court, which has naturally displeased the Xia family. However, the Sixth Prince, regarded as divinely blessed, still serves as their pillar of support. Now, with Concubine Yi giving birth to the Eighth Prince, His Majesty dotes on the child immensely. His favour extends to the mother… and by extension, to those who seek to gain from her.”

“Given this, there’s no telling what Marshal Xia and Concubine Hui might be plotting in the shadows.”

Sheng Chengming’s expression shifted, impatience creeping in. “If that’s the case, how can I possibly leave the capital now?”

Su Huaijing shook his head. “It’s not about leaving immediately. The Longevity Festival is approaching, and with a royal birth, His Majesty is in good spirits. If Your Highness were to request a title now, expressing your lack of interest in the throne and your desire to govern a fief for the welfare of the people, His Majesty would likely see you as sincere and kind-hearted, and after some consideration, grant your request.”

In other words, Su Huaijing was seventy percent certain that Sheng Chengming could secure a title at this moment.

But he did not spell it out. Sheng Chengming thought for a moment before asking, “Why? Why is it so important to you that I leave the capital?”

Su Huaijing replied, “It’s not about leaving. It’s about biding your time.”

Outside, the moon was shrouded in mist, and the wind whistled through the streets. Across the way, in the pleasure house, the scent of fresh incense drifted, luring nobles and aristocrats alike.

Su Huaijing met Sheng Chengming’s gaze and spoke softly, “Your Highness already sees the truth. Must I lay it all out for you?”

Senior Official Zhang was half-hearted in his support of Sheng Chengming. Concubine Yi’s favour lay with her youngest child. The Second Prince, having made great contributions in the Jiangnan floods and gained experience in the capital, had come to be seen by the public as a benevolent ruler-in-waiting.

Yet Emperor Renshou was only in his forties. He had ruled for ten years and intended to rule for ten or twenty more. He had no intention of relinquishing power.

The factional struggles and court turbulence were, to him, an opportunity to further solidify his control.

He would allow Senior Official Zhang and Xia Jingyi to fight to the death—only to reclaim their authority in the end.

Sheng Chengming and Sheng Chengxing would become collateral damage in this power struggle.

Furthermore, the Earl Wukang harboured treasonous intentions. According to Su Huaijing’s sources, the rebellion would unfold this very autumn.

Too many eyes were watching. Wukang would not succeed. But when the rebellion was crushed, Sheng Chengming who was his close associate, framed by Qin Pengxuan, would become the perfect scapegoat.

The surface seemed calm, but for Sheng Chengming, this was a moment of life and death.

Even if he could not see the full picture, he could not ignore his grandfather’s and mother’s attitudes.

Su Huaijing said, “A mother’s love is often partial to the youngest, the weakest. It is natural for Your Highness to feel resentment. But if you throw away your future for this grievance, you are no true ruler.”

Sheng Chengming remained still for a long time before letting out a bitter laugh. “If I leave the capital, what future will I have? How can I ever be a wise ruler?”

Su Huaijing replied, “His Majesty was once a prince before he became an emperor.”

The implication was clear. Su Huaijing said no more.

Sheng Chengming’s lips parted slightly, his expression flickering with shock.

Su Huaijing remained composed like a breeze under the moon. Yet there was an unmistakable pressure in his presence. “Have you forgotten the two months you spent in Jiangnan, working tirelessly? Or the torrential rain?”

“You once swore to protect the people. Has that changed?”

Had Sheng Chengming not shown sincerity in his efforts then, and had Rong Tang not felt some sympathy for him, Su Huaijing would not have bothered paving this path for him now.

When the rebellion was over and the dust settled, Sheng Chengming would be fortunate if he could escape with his life. Su Huaijing had done his part to secure him a way forward.

For the first time, he revealed his sharp edge before Sheng Chengming. The latter stood frozen in place for a long time before bowing deeply. “I owe you my thanks, Excellency Su. I was too narrow-minded.”

It wasn’t that the fight was a no-win, but that it would lead to mutual destruction.

He continued, “In two days, I will visit my mother and inform her of my decision. Then, I will seek an audience with Imperial Father and request permission to leave the capital.”

Su Huaijing nodded approvingly. “Jiangnan is prosperous, but as His Majesty hails from the south, he may hold reservations about it. Your Highness might consider Longxi or Bashu. Though more remote, they offer vast lands and ample opportunities.”

The meal on the table was barely touched. After some further discussion, Su Huaijing rose to take his leave. Just as he reached the door, Sheng Chengming suddenly called out to him.

There was a flicker of hesitation in his expression, as if he was unsure whether to speak.

At last, he asked, in rare perceptiveness, “Is the capital about to change?”

Su Huaijing smiled faintly. “Your Highness overthinks. His Majesty stands in his prime, and Dayu’s fortune will surely endure.”

Sheng Chengming sat there in a daze, not touching his food. He downed a few cups of wine instead, lost in thought over their conversation.

Su Huaijing took his leave once more, descending the stairs and heading straight for the carriage at the street corner, eager to return home.

But just as he was about to step in, his gaze swept past the hitching post. And there, parked beside his own, was another carriage identical to his.

Shuang Fu and Shuang Shou huddled together nearby, murmuring in low voices. For some reason, they didn’t dare lift their heads, looking like two little turtles retreating into their shells.

Su Huaijing was momentarily surprised. Then delight washed over him, instantly sweeping away the gloom lingering from his talk with Sheng Chengming. He was certain. Tangtang had come to fetch him home again. The thought filled him with joy, so much so that he barely knew what to do with himself.

He quickened his pace, his voice unconsciously tinged with both pride and affection, half a boast and half a concern. “Why are you both waiting here? Wouldn’t Tangtang be bored sitting alone in the carriage?”

Shuang Fu hesitated before glancing up, his eyes flickering evasively. “Sir—”

Su Huaijing paused. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, and his steps slowed. His gaze darkened.

He lifted the carriage curtain—

Inside, it was empty.

Shuiling Street remained as lively as ever. The Liujin Parlour and Shudao Pavilion were filled with fine wine and exquisite dishes. Lanterns flickered along the Jinfen River, casting their glow on the water. In the pleasure houses, rouge-coloured laughter and charming smiles bloomed like flowers.

From time to time, the sound of silk and bamboo music drifted through the air, painting an illusion of earthly paradise.

Su Huaijing lowered his eyes, looking at the two young attendants shrinking before him. His voice was soft, almost gentle—

But laced with something perilously sharp.

“Where is Tangtang?”