A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City-Chapter 122

Consort Xu was deposed, her name even erased from the imperial genealogy. On the day of her burial, only a few low-ranking officials from the Ministry of Rites oversaw her funeral.

In ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍truth, had the Emperor not refrained from openly expressing disdain for Prince Huai, she might not even have been granted the dignity of burial in the imperial consorts' tomb.

Prince Huai knew, rationally, that he should not attend his mother's funeral.

But the night before her burial, he found himself recalling, again and again, the days when they were confined in the old residence—how his mother would grumble about him eating too much or being slow-witted, yet still push portions of her own meal into his bowl.

At dawn the next day, he donned plain hemp mourning robes, replacing his golden crown with coarse cloth. Princess Huai watched silently, offering no objection.

From the palace tower, Jiuzhu saw Prince Huai escorting Consort Xu's coffin through the side gate of the palace.

Her master had once told her that if she ever found herself puzzled by events in the capital, she should observe who ultimately benefited from them.

She had believed Consort Xu to be cold and cruel toward her son. Yet in death, the world condemned her while pitying the "poor Prince Huai." No one would dare question his lineage again, nor would his mother's crimes be laid at his feet.

Her wickedness had proven his innocence.

Jiuzhu glanced once more at Prince Huai in the funeral procession. In that moment, she truly hoped Consort Xu had, in her final hours, harbored some tenderness and love for him.

The truth, perhaps, was known only to Consort Xu herself.

And Jiuzhu? She was merely an observer.

"Little Pig." Prince Chen ascended the steps to join her. "Watching Consort Xu's funeral procession?"

Jiuzhu nodded. "Eldest Brother is escorting his mother's coffin."

Prince Chen said nothing, instead reaching to tug playfully at the hairpin in her coiled bun.

"Your Highness, you're messing with my hair again." Jiuzhu eyed him suspiciously. "With your investiture as Crown Prince imminent... could it be you're nervous?"

"Don't be absurd. Why would I be nervous?" Prince Chen scoffed. "Your prince grew up in the capital—there's nothing I haven't seen. How could a mere ceremony unsettle me?"

"Very well." Jiuzhu removed her hairpin and leaned her head against his chest. "Go ahead, tug all you like."

"I'm luckier than Father was." Prince Chen pulled her closer. "I met you in my youth."

"You're mistaken, Your Highness." Jiuzhu waggled a pale finger in protest. "The lucky one is me."

Prince Chen chuckled softly. In his reckless youth, he'd acted on whims without care for consequences.

But now? Now he wanted to become the finest version of himself in Jiuzhu's eyes.

He couldn't bear the thought of dimming the adoration in this earnest girl who'd rushed toward him with such hope. He refused to tarnish the radiant prince she believed in, or shatter the beauty she saw.

Some claimed love meant baring one's ugliest self to another.

But why? Why tear yourself open just for momentary catharsis, heedless of whether it might wound the one who cherished you?

Why couldn't love mean striving to be the best you could be for them?

His silly, guileless Little Pig gazed at him with stars in her eyes.

What manner of beast would he be to extinguish that light?

Beneath the palace tower's shadowed trees, Concubine Wei paused, observing Yun Duqing and Ming Jiuzhu's embrace.

"I heard Consort Xu fell to Empress Su and Princess Consort of Chen?" She turned to the demure Princess Consort Jing. "You should visit your family soon and share this news."

Princess Consort Jing hesitated. "Mother, whatever passed between Uncle and Consort Xu was youthful folly. They've had no contact in years."

"Did I suggest otherwise?" Concubine Wei rested a hand on her daughter-in-law's wrist. "You're too reticent, too prone to overthinking. Unbecoming of a princess consort."

"This daughter accepts your guidance." The princess consort bowed her head lower.

Concubine Wei approved of her obedience. "Among the five princess consorts, only you and Princess Huai conduct yourselves with proper dignity. The others are disgraceful."

Princess Consort An was frivolous; the Fourth Princess Consort abandoned her husband in crisis; and Princess Consort of Chen's naivete would surely bring regret when she became crown princess.

"This humble one is unworthy of praise."

"No need for modesty." A thin smile touched Concubine Wei's stern features. "You please me well enough."

"The weather is fine today. Visit your family this afternoon."

"As you wish."

At the Du residence, Princess Consort Jing waited nearly an hour before Du Qingke returned.

Clad in unadorned white with a silver hairpin, he offered only brief greetings before sitting in silence.

"Husband, your robe is soiled." Madam Du gestured to a stain. "Let me have the servants bring brighter—"

"Unnecessary." Du Qingke's gaze lifted slightly. "I've no taste for vivid colors lately."

"Of course." Madam Du's smile stiffened as she dropped the subject.

Second Master Du and Second Madam Du flanked their daughter, tactfully inquiring about palace life to ease the tension.

"Father, Mother, don't worry. All is well." Princess Consort Jing sipped tea. "Though I never imagined Fifth Sister-in-law's innocent facade hid such ruthlessness against rivals."

"How so?" Father Du frowned. "Best keep your distance then."

"Consort Xu died ill, buried without posthumous honors, her name stricken from records." The princess consort sighed. "Outsiders might think she offended His Majesty. In truth, Ming Jiuzhu and Empress Su hounded her to death."

Du Qingke's attention sharpened.

Seizing the moment, she continued: "Somehow they trapped Consort Xu into confessing crimes, leaving her no choice but suicide."

"Empress Su... capable of such schemes?" Du Qingke fingered his mutton-fat jade pendant, chuckling oddly. "It grows late. Surely the palace gates won't remain open for you?"

"So it is." Rising, Princess Consort Jing nodded. "Thank you for the reminder, Uncle. I must return."

"After you." After seeing her to the carriage, Du Qingke removed his silver hairpin and flung it beneath a tree without expression.

"Husband?" Madam Du retrieved it. "You're weary. Come rest."

He frowned at her outstretched hand but said nothing, turning toward his quarters.

"A princess consort with such cunning must have remarkable teachers."

Summoning an advisor, he ordered: "Investigate Princess Consort of Chen's two masters."

No one walked this earth without leaving traces—unless they'd fallen from the heavens.

"Your Highness, it's time to rise and dress."

The sky had not yet brightened when Prince Chen was awakened by palace attendants. Glancing at Jiuzhu, who was sound asleep hugging a quilt, he pinched her nose playfully.

"Your Highness." Jiuzhu sat up drowsily and peeked out the window. "It's still dark. Let me sleep a little longer." With that, she flopped back onto the bed, clinging to the quilt.

"Ah!" Prince Chen wrapped an arm around her waist. "Today is the coronation ceremony for the Crown Prince. You must accompany me."

"You're lying." Jiuzhu forced her bleary eyes open. "I’ve seen the Ministry of Rites' arrangements for the coronation. The Crown Prince’s ceremony doesn’t require the presence of the princess consort."

"That was for previous crown princes. I’m different." Prince Chen bent down and kissed her cheek. "Becoming the Crown Prince is a momentous responsibility, an extraordinary occasion. Without you by my side, my heart would feel incomplete."

For you, I’ve become a better version of myself.

So I also wish for you to stand beside me during this pivotal moment.

"Alright." Jiuzhu tossed the quilt aside, jumped off the bed, and grabbed Prince Chen’s hand. "I’ll go with you."

Yang Yiduo, who was attending to them, nearly spoke up—this wasn’t proper protocol. But seeing the prince and his consort bending side by side to put on their shoes, heads nearly touching, he swallowed his words.

The dragon-and-phoenix carriage awaited them outside Kirin Palace. Under the astonished gazes of the ceremonial officials, Prince Chen led Jiuzhu into the palanquin together.

Facing their mixed reactions, Prince Chen remained utterly unapologetic.

The carriage bore both dragon and phoenix motifs—wasn’t it fitting for the Crown Prince and his future consort to ride together?

The officials recovered quickly. After the surprises Prince Chen had sprung during the wedding procession, this was hardly shocking.

Some boundaries existed solely to be crossed.

The palanquin halted at Zhengyang Hall, where Prince Chen would exchange his princely robes for the dragon-embroidered attire of the Crown Prince.

"Little Pig." As the ceremonial robe settled over his shoulders, he dismissed the official tasked with fastening the four-clawed dragon jade pendant and extended a hand to Jiuzhu. "You do it for me, won’t you?"

"Alright." Jiuzhu stepped forward, preparing to kneel as the official had, but Prince Chen caught her arm.

"Don’t kneel. Just like this." He bent down, bringing himself level with her. "We are husband and wife."

"Hurry." He pinched her cheek teasingly. "This crown is heavy, and bending over is tiring."

Jiuzhu giggled softly as she carefully secured the pendant.

Their eyes met. Straightening, Prince Chen retrieved a nine-tailed phoenix hairpin from a box and placed it in her coiled tresses.

"Is it heavy?" he asked.

"Very." Jiuzhu nodded, making the phoenix wings tremble delicately.

"Good." Prince Chen squeezed her hand, whispering, "The Crown Princess’s ceremonial headdress is even heavier. I swapped it for this hairpin to spare your poor neck."

Jiuzhu’s eyes crinkled with laughter. Rising on tiptoe, she adjusted his crown. "Your Highness, you look exceptionally handsome today."

"Let’s go."

"Where?"

"To the main hall of Zhengyang Palace."

The ceremonial officers opened the grand doors, watching as the couple walked hand in hand toward the throne room.

"Sir, this breaches protocol. Should we—"

"Hush." Another official murmured, "The Crown Prince even brought the nine-tailed phoenix hairpin reserved for the Crown Princess. This means His Majesty and Her Majesty the Empress are aware."

If the Emperor and Empress raised no objections, who were they to protest?

As officials of the Ministry of Rites—where Jiuzhu’s father, Ming Jinghai, served—they stood by their own. Especially when the Emperor, Empress, and Crown Prince all approved.

The great doors of Zhengyang Hall swung open. Civil and military officials stood in orderly rows, while the imperial couple presided from above.

The coronation edict was recited by a senior imperial prince and Ming Jinghai, Minister of Personnel.

"Your Imperial Highnesses the Crown Prince and Crown Princess, pray enter the hall."

The assembled officials turned and bowed toward the entrance.

Clad in the four-clawed dragon robes of the Crown Prince, Yun Duqing strode into the hall hand in hand with Ming Jiuzhu, resplendent in the phoenix gown of the Crown Princess.

So their ears had not deceived them—the Crown Prince had indeed brought his consort to the coronation.

A first in the history of the Great Cheng Dynasty!