A Concubine's Competitive Life in the Prince's Household-Chapter 165

Ever since Prince Heng could remember, he noticed that his mother, Concubine Qian, would secretly visit the Autumn Cool Palace every early autumn to burn yellow paper under the towering silk tree.

It was an offering to Princess Taihua, who had passed away a century ago.

Concubine Qian placed the folded yellow paper into a small box and gently set it on the table. Then she stretched lazily, took out her snuff bottle for a few puffs, and downed a full cup of wine in one go.

Her demeanor was strikingly bold, more like a tavern girl from the streets than the dignified imperial concubine she was.

Exhaling a slow smoke ring, Concubine Qian drawled, "In my youth, I lived in Southern Chu for ten years—practically half a Southern Chu native myself. I make offerings to Princess Taihua every year to beg her protection for your safety."

The fight for the throne was perilous.

Concubine Qian hoped the Empress of Southern Chu would shield her son and keep him unharmed.

Prince Heng sighed. "Mother, we’re contending for the Da Qing throne, not the Southern Chu empire. Is it really fitting to seek the Southern Chu Empress’s protection?"

Concubine Qian spread her hands, utterly unbothered. "Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do. Might as well burn incense for a few ancestors—one of them’s bound to look out for you."

Prince Heng had no rebuttal.

Concubine Qian set down her delicate snuff bottle and poured another cup of strong liquor.

Prince Heng’s eye twitched. He reached out to stop her. "Mother, the imperial physician said your health isn’t what it used to be. You should cut back on the snuff and wine!"

Holding her porcelain cup, Concubine Qian—still radiant with beauty—defended herself with shameless ease. "The Emperor’s ill, so I don’t have to attend to him. What’s the harm in sneaking a drink? Prince Yan just welcomed another daughter this year. Meanwhile, you—your courtyard is packed with women, yet not a single child in sight."

Among Da Qing’s three princes, Prince Yan had the most offspring.

Concubine Qian was green with envy.

Alas, her own son was hopeless—his harem overflowed, yet none had conceived. Worried, she hesitated before finally asking, "Yuan Li, tell me the truth. Are you... incapable?"

A vein throbbed at Prince Heng’s temple. He gritted his teeth. "Mother, I am perfectly healthy."

Disappointed, Concubine Qian drowned her sorrows in another cup. "Then why no children? I’m bored stiff in this wretched palace—I’d love a little one to dote on. If your father weren’t so ill and unable to perform his duties, I’d even consider bearing another chubby baby myself."

Rubbing his temples, Prince Heng replied patiently, "Mother, the situation is still unstable. A child would only be a burden."

If he became Emperor, he could sire as many as he pleased.

If he failed, at least no children would suffer for it.

So, no offspring was the wisest choice.

Yet, unbidden, the image of a chubby, rosy-cheeked infant flashed in his mind—Shen Wei’s daughter, tiny and adorable.

Prince Heng caught himself thinking: A daughter like that wouldn’t be so bad.

Concubine Qian took a morose sip. "Your father’s health declines, and so does the Crown Prince’s. Yuan Li, time is running out. Your father is a good man—he treated me kindly. He never scorned my humble origins, bestowed honor upon my family, and shielded us both. Last winter when I fell ill, he gave me the palace’s only five-hundred-year-old ginseng to save me."

She paused, then added breezily, "Just say the word, and I’ll poison him tomorrow to clear your path."

Prince Heng: "...No need. The timing isn’t right yet."

Concubine Qian shrugged, slightly crestfallen. "Fine. I’d miss him a little if we killed him now."

After more chatter, Prince Heng took his leave. Escorted by guards, he exited the palace through a side path.

A guard reported in a low voice, "Your Highness, the Southern Chu envoy seeks a private audience."

Prince Heng halted. He glanced up, realizing he’d wandered to the derelict Autumn Cool Palace. The gate was rusted shut, but lush branches of the silk tree spilled over the walls, dotted with pink blossoms.

Here, the founding Empress of Southern Chu had lived for over a decade in this crumbling courtyard.

Plucking a pink silk flower, Prince Heng studied it. The bloom was unremarkable—its petals mere wisps of pink. He tossed it aside, his gaze turning cold. "Tell the Southern Chu envoy I’ll meet them."

...

Time passed. Moonlight bathed the Glazed Pavilion. After a night of bone-melting exertion, Shen Wei and Prince Yan changed into fresh sleep robes and settled in bed.

Rubbing her sore lower back, Shen Wei winced at the dull ache in her abdomen.

She shot a sidelong glance at Prince Yan—a man of boundless stamina. Thank heavens she kept herself fit, or she’d have perished in this bed long ago.

Resting her head on the pillow, she asked softly, "Your Highness, the Princess returns to her family tomorrow for Madam Tantai’s birthday celebration. Will you accompany her?"

Sated and relaxed, Prince Yan idly traced Shen Wei’s delicate fingers, his voice a lazy rumble. "Tomorrow, I visit the Eastern Palace."

In other words: He wouldn’t be going to the Tantai estate.

Still, the Tantai family was a centuries-old noble house with deep political roots. Prince Yan added, "Retrieve two gold-inlaid jade scepters from the treasury tomorrow. Give them to the Princess as my gift to Madam Tantai."

Shen Wei nodded. "Understood."

At dawn, Prince Yan left for court. After breakfast, Shen Wei learned the Princess had already prepared to depart. As protocol demanded, Shen Wei went to see her off.

At the gates of Kunyu Courtyard, Shen Wei stepped forward with a smile. "For Madam Tantai’s celebration, I’ve prepared two jade scepters. Would the Princess kindly deliver them?"

Cai Lian and Cai Ping stood behind her, each holding an ornate box containing the scepters.

The Princess mistook this as submission. Her sneer deepened. "The Tantai family is one of Yanjing’s Four Great Houses. Our treasures are beyond count. A lowborn like you isn’t even fit to step past our threshold—let alone offer gifts worthy of our vaults."

The Tantai clan was wealthy and powerful, its members holding high offices.

Shen ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‍Wei’s tribute? Unworthy.

Shen Wei clarified patiently, "These are from His Highness—"

The Princess cut her off. "Invoking the Prince changes nothing. Shen Wei, cherish these last days of managing the household."

With that, the Princess swept away, flanked by her maids and matrons.

The Princess was confident. Before marriage, Madam Tantai had doted on her endlessly. Once she sought her family’s aid, her mother would pressure the Empress to restore her rightful authority.

"Milady, shall we still send the gifts?" Cai Ping asked.

Shen Wei pressed a hand to her waist—her abdomen still ached faintly. Probably from Prince Yan’s overzealousness last night.

"If the Princess refuses, I won’t force it," Shen Wei said. "Cai Ping, fetch the physician."