Chapter 16: A Qi

The He family was merely the prologue; everything that followed was the true objective.

Back then, in the dense forest, He Xu and Zhang Shaode, though outnumbered, forced all twenty-three of their pursuers—adults and children alike—into a desperate corner.

Excluding her infant child, only a hundred days old, everyone who accompanied her perished: a chief steward, two female attendants in charge, three personal maidservants, and three little maids—all dead! Among the twelve personal guards handpicked by the late emperor for her, only Wei Zhang and Huo Xun’s father, Huo Xuan, survived.

After seeing He Xu’s face and then recognizing Zhang Shaode, who had just arrived, Yue Tang knew that night she would not escape.

She urged Wei Zhang and the others to move closer to the cliff’s edge; only by leaping down could they cling to their last shred of hope.

But Wei Zhang and Huo Xiao gestured to her from a distance, signaling her to hold on.

Years of loyalty had forged an unspoken understanding between them. So Yue Tang stood at the cliff’s edge, using her last ounce of strength to steady herself, cursing and delaying He Jianzhong and his men.

Apart from the royal family members—no, in fact, even the current emperor had never met Yue Tang.

Her cousin, who succeeded the late emperor to rule the realm, had been sent to the Jiangling Marquis’s mansion from a young age.

Though Yue Tang and he were born on the same day and shared a similar ominous fate, they had no interactions.

Even the emperor could not recognize her; the only proof of her identity was the imperial seal and the fingerprint impression kept by the Clan Office for each royal member.

The body at the foot of the cliff was that of Axiu, the real Lin Xiuying, who served as her maid.

After death, Axiu’s identity was assumed, and she was taken back to the Marquis’s mansion by He Jianzhong. The princess’s seal she carried was inevitably handed over to Du Minghuan.

To confirm that she was truly dead, the Du family would have to see this seal; those behind them would also rely on it to verify the success of their mission.

During the month back in the capital, Wei Zhang had already inspected Du Minghuan’s study twice, having discovered secret sentries constantly posted outside, deducing that something important must be inside.

Yue Tang could not say for certain that the seal was in the Du family’s hands, but it had to be investigated.

Zhang Shaode was indeed more cunning than He Jianzhong.

Each member of He Jianzhong’s large family nurtured their own selfish ambitions, but the Zhang family was different. Apart from the Zhang women married out, Zhang Shaode had taken a substantial reward but continued to live in his old three-courtyard residence, never taking a concubine, living quietly with his first wife’s second daughter and their eldest son and daughter-in-law.

Fewer people meant fewer leaks and fewer vulnerabilities.

This was Zhang Shaode’s caution.

Such caution could be both a blessing and a curse.

Yue Tang’s target this time was precisely the latter.

-----

As the carriage entered an alley in the northern part of the city, Hua Lin parted ways with them here to avoid any tails from following.

Lan Qin dismounted first, helping Yue Tang down and leading her through the alley.

Passing through it, they reached their residence in the capital.

Since the Yongjia Princess was presumed murdered by the world, her imperial estate and the separate manor had been legally reclaimed.

Even the servants Yue Tang had left behind in the manor were recalled according to regulations.

Wei Zhang and Lan Qin were still on the roster and should have returned to the prince’s mansion.

But at the time, Wei Zhang decided to remain loyal to Yue Tang. After settling her, he quickly brought Lan Qin and Huo Xun out before the Ministry of Rites officials arrived at the manor.

Of course, they also managed to smuggle out the private assets Yue Tang had packed beforehand.

Compared to the princess’s wealth, these assets were mere trifles—silver notes and jewelry easy to carry. At the time, they seemed insignificant, but later they proved to be a blessing, providing sustenance for many years.

For security, Prince Duan had once arranged a false census registration for Yue Tang, allowing her to travel incognito under government scrutiny.

This fake identity later proved useful for her to appear in public.

Yue Tang had all her conspicuous jewelry discreetly altered and then pawned them for cash, which Lan Qin used to purchase several prosperous shops.

Over three years, they had amassed a considerable sum.

As they crossed the street, Lan Qin gently reminded her, “The busiest shop diagonally across is Baoshan Hall. You used to love their pastries.”

It seemed they both instinctively recalled the past.

Yue Tang did not wish to indulge and merely nodded, withdrawing her gaze. Yet midway, she hesitated, her eyes fixed on a tall figure standing amidst the crowd.

The capital belonged to Jiangbei, where people were generally tall, yet this figure stood out like a crane among chickens.

He faced away, selecting a rattle from a street vendor.

“What is it?” Lan Qin stopped as well.

Yue Tang said, “I think I saw Aqi.”

Lan Qin was stunned. “Your husband?”

Just then, Baoshan Hall was busy with fresh pastries, and the surging crowd quickly obscured the rattle stall.

-----

Yue Tang withdrew her gaze. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”

…

Aqi was Yue Tang’s son-in-law.

By chance, he was found to resolve the succession crisis at the prince’s mansion.

Prince Duan had two secondary consorts, but neither bore children.

He had only three offspring in total: the heir Yue Rong, two years older than Yue Tang; Yue Tang herself; and her second brother, who died before birth from asphyxiation.

The prince’s consort died when Yue Tang was six, and she moved to live at the imperial estate’s separate manor.

Yue Rong was healthy, intelligent, and the prince’s pride. At sixteen, he married Chu Shi, from a prominent family. They were childhood friends and had studied together, a classic case of youthful betrothal.

Their marriage was harmonious and loving.

But six months after the wedding, before Chu Shi could conceive, Yue Rong suddenly fell ill. This young man, talented in both pen and sword, grew weak day by day, and within two months succumbed to his grave illness.

The vast prince’s mansion was suddenly left with only the prince and Yue Tang.

On the night her brother died, Yue Tang stayed by his bedside, watching over him silently, as he could no longer speak and only wept.

Half a year from her coming-of-age, she looked at the grand yet empty royal court and felt it should not be so.

When her brother was alive, he helped their father bear the burdens of the mansion; once gone, the prince was left to struggle alone, aging several years within months.

On Yue Rong’s seventy-seventh day memorial, Yue Tang accompanied the prince to the tomb to offer sacrifices and burn paper offerings. She said, “Father, I want to find a son-in-law.”

Yue Tang still remembered the shock that transformed her father’s grief.

Long after, he said, “Girl, are you mad? What talented, upright man would come to be a son-in-law for our imperial family?”

Ordinary son-in-laws from official families could progress with the support of their wives’ clans, easily entering official ranks.

But a princess’s son-in-law was uncertain; at the prince’s mansion, such a son-in-law would either be unwanted or incompetent.

Why bother?

Yet Yue Tang resolutely tossed paper into the fire, “I only care about the child, not a lifetime together. I don’t believe there is no one out there.”