Volume 1, Chapter 25: The True Heiress is a Powerhouse 25

Cheng Mingyue had been speaking for a long time, yet she saw that An Qianqian showed no reaction at all. She sighed softly and took An Qianqian’s hand, pulling her back to her senses.

"Qianqian, are you listening to your mother?"

"I am."

"Then tell me, what was Mother just saying?"

"You mentioned the eldest son of the Minister of Personnel, the youngest son of the Marquis of Dingbei, and the second son of the Vice Minister of Rites, but I don't like any of them."

Seeing Cheng Mingyue look somewhat anxious, An Qianqian quickly added, "The Minister of Personnel’s eldest son has a 'white moonlight' in his heart—a maid in his mother's quarters. The Marquis of Dingbei’s youngest son is obsessed with going to the frontier to fight; he has long planned to have two households, one in the capital and one at the border. As for the second son of the Vice Minister of Rites, he prefers men."

These few words left Cheng Mingyue speechless. She had spent so much money on intelligence; why was it so different from what her daughter said?

"How… how could this be?!"

"It’s only natural that you didn't know, Mother. Even the people in their own households might not be aware of these things."

"Then… then you see which young man is better, and Mother will go and speak to someone else."

"Si Chengnian is quite good. If you really must find a husband for me, then let it be him. With my abilities, I can easily keep him completely under my thumb."

"That will not do!" Cheng Mingyue refused without a second thought. "His Highness Si is about to return to his own country; there is absolutely no possibility for you two. Besides, given his status and position, if he returns, it will inevitably lead to a bloodbath."

"And what does that matter? I’m not afraid. Don't you know your daughter’s capabilities? No one in this world can harm me."

"The Yan Kingdom is so far away, how could your mother ever be at ease?"

An Qianqian spoke nonchalantly, but Cheng Mingyue’s eyes began to redden.

*Sigh.* Another beautiful mother tricked into tears.

An Qianqian reached out and pushed the plum juice on the low table toward Cheng Mingyue, her voice steady. "Mother, why are you crying?"

Cheng Mingyue sniffled and glared at her. "Aren't I worried about you?"

"There is nothing to cry about; it’s not as if anything is set in stone."

Cheng Mingyue finally snapped out of it. "That’s true! The Emperor would never agree to grant such a marriage."

***

She wanted to continue chatting with An Qianqian, but the Crown Princess had already risen. The whispering noblewomen fell silent instantly, their gazes converging upon her.

"I have invited you all here today for two reasons: first, to escape the summer heat in this water pavilion; and second, the south has been struck by a locust plague. The wheat stalks have been gnawed until only empty husks remain; the common people have almost run out of seeds to eat. I thought that we, as people of means, should do something concrete for our countrymen there."

As soon as she finished speaking, Si Yan led the palace maids over, carrying trays laden with brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, which they distributed to each table.

"Please contribute according to your means—silver, grain, medicinal herbs; even a few bolts of cloth or sacks of seeds are a gesture of heart." The Crown Princess’s voice was gentle yet carried weight. "The list of donations will be transcribed and presented to His Majesty for his perusal."

The pavilion was quiet for a moment, followed by the rustling of paper. Everyone understood that this was not a matter of "contributing according to one's means," but a silent competition. The Duke of Rong’s estate had just donated a hundred fine steeds; if anyone donated meagerly now, they would lose face. One could pretend to be poor, but past experience warned them that doing so might invite an investigation from the Emperor. Those who donated generously during the last plague often saw their families promoted, while those who donated little were strictly investigated for corruption and bribery.

Cheng Mingyue glanced at An Qianqian, who was looking down at the ink in her inkstone as if it were none of her concern. She picked up her brush and wrote, "One hundred piculs of rice, fifty bolts of cloth..." Her eldest sister-in-law followed suit, adding "various medicinal herbs."

The men’s tables across the water also stirred, with sounds of pledged donations drifting over.

At this moment, an old official asked loudly, "His Highness Si has come from afar. I wonder what he intends to donate to the people of the south?"

Si Chengnian rose slowly. He declared clearly, "Ten thousand taels of gold and one thousand piculs of grain."

The entire assembly was stunned. Ten thousand taels of gold—such a gesture far exceeded everyone’s expectations.

The eunuch sent by the Emperor happened to be in the pavilion. Hearing this, he bowed and said, "His Majesty has decreed: since His Highness Si is so generous, he may be granted one wish."

Si Chengnian looked intently in the direction of An Qianqian and said firmly, "I have reached the age to marry. I humbly request His Majesty’s permission to take the daughter of the Duke of Rong, An Qianqian, as my wife, to cement the friendship between our two nations."

Silence descended upon the water pavilion; all eyes were fixed on An Qianqian.

"Duke of Rong, what are your thoughts?" The Emperor’s inquiry reached An Mingxia.

***

An Mingxia’s expression shifted several times. He stood up and bowed. "Everything shall be as His Majesty commands."

"In that case, I shall act as this matchmaker."

"We thank His Majesty for his boundless grace."

This ice banquet eventually ended in a flurry of activity. Perhaps someone feared a change of heart, for the imperial decree of marriage arrived at the Duke of Rong’s estate that very same day.

The main hall of the estate was dead silent. Standing under the corridor were officials from the Ministry of Rites in scarlet robes, led by the Vice Minister, who held a scroll of bright yellow silk, followed by two eunuchs carrying hand warmers.

An Mingxia, dressed in his court attire, led the men of the house to kneel at the foot of the steps. Cheng Mingyue stood with the women behind a screen. Only An Qianqian remained, reclining on a rocking chair in the hall, twirling a translucent white jade bead in her fingers, showing no intention of getting up.

"The Duke of Rong’s estate, receive the decree—" the Vice Minister’s clear voice pierced the silence.

He unfurled the scroll and read aloud: "By the grace of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: The daughter of the Duke of Rong, An Qianqian, is elegant and virtuous, with a heart as pure as an orchid, deeply pleasing to Our heart. Prince Si Chengnian of the Yan Kingdom is talented and virtuous, skilled in both scholarship and martial arts. Now that our nations are allied, we shall solidify this bond through marriage. We hereby grant the hand of An Qianqian to Si Chengnian. Choose an auspicious day for the wedding... Thus it is written."

"We thank His Majesty for his boundless grace. Long live the Emperor, long live, long live." An Mingxia’s voice carried a hint of imperceptible stiffness.

Si Chengnian stood to the side, dressed in fresh brocade, and bowed slightly upon hearing the words.

Once An Mingxia accepted the scroll, the Vice Minister exchanged a few pleasantries about "congratulating the Duke" and "congratulating the Prince" before departing with the eunuchs and officials.

An Mingxia held the bright yellow scroll with extreme caution, as if it weighed a thousand pounds, bowing his spine under the burden. Not until the sound of carriages faded outside the gate did the air in the main hall congeal.

"Hmph."

An Mingxia slammed the decree onto the table with a dull thud. He looked at Si Chengnian, his eyes filled with ice. "His Highness certainly has clever methods, securing an imperial decree without a word. Were you afraid that my estate would refuse to sell its daughter?"

Before Si Chengnian could speak, An Huancheng interrupted, "My sister is a precious jewel; how dare you, a hostage prince from a foreign land, covet her so casually? The Yan Kingdom is in chaos; you are returning to a mountain of knives and a sea of fire. Why drag Qianqian down with you?"

Cheng Mingyue, behind the screen, had long been teary-eyed. She rushed out, disregarding protocol, and pointed at Si Chengnian’s nose, wanting to lash out. Her words faltered, turning into a fierce demand: "My daughter will not go to any Yan Kingdom, and she will not be dragged into your damn conflicts!"

Si Chengnian stood in the center of the hall, the target of everyone’s wrath.