A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City-Chapter 126

The Office of the Metropolitan Prefecture.

Under the insistence of Yu Jian and his team of Imperial Guards, the truth of the matter was thoroughly investigated.

"Say the Du family is bold—yet they only dared to vandalize the late Emperor’s tombstone, not touching anyone else’s. Say they’re timid—yet they even dared to tamper with the imperial mausoleum," muttered one of the guards. Seeing his superior mount his horse in haste, he quickly called out, "Captain, where are you going?"

"I suspect Du Qingke harbors treasonous intentions. I must report this immediately."

"Today, His Majesty and the Crown Prince are attending the Grain in Ear sacrificial ceremony outside the city. The security is tight—we’re just lowly Imperial Guards. How can we possibly gain an audience with the Emperor?"

"The message has already been relayed from the Metropolitan Prefecture to the Six Ministries. What we must do now is take a gamble." Yu Jian touched the saber at his waist. "If we succeed, it’s our ancestors’ blessing. If not, we’ll just have made a wasted trip. Are you all willing to take this risk with me?"

"Let’s do it!"

The Imperial Guards swiftly mounted their horses. Yu Jian’s trusted subordinate rode up beside him and whispered, "Captain, something feels off about this."

"What do you mean?"

"The Du family’s steward claimed he did all this to cause trouble for the Crown Prince during his investiture ceremony. But after the incident, not only was the Crown Prince unharmed, His Majesty even used it as grounds to confine the other princes in the palace." The guard stopped short of saying outright that this seemed less like framing the Crown Prince and more like helping him.

What was even more puzzling was that after they arrested the steward, the Du family made no attempt to retrieve him—not even silencing him permanently.

Was this the arrogance of a noble family, or had they simply given up?

---

"Your Highness." Inside the spacious carriage, Jiuzhu noticed that both sides of the road were draped with yellow cloth, with guards standing solemnly every few steps.

No sounds of commoners could be heard—only the clatter of hooves and carriage wheels filled the air.

"Such solemn silence is rather unfamiliar."

"That’s why His Majesty rarely travels in full imperial procession," Yun Duqing said, pulling Jiuzhu into his arms. He lowered his head to speak but nearly had his chin pierced by the nine-tailed phoenix hairpin in her elaborate updo. He tilted his head away, suddenly nostalgic for her simple twin buns.

Jiuzhu giggled, resting her head on his lap.

"Ungrateful Crown Princess. I almost got stabbed by your hairpin, and you’re laughing?" He eyed the array of ornaments in her hair. "These pins are beautiful, but one could easily kill a man if pulled out."

"Your Highness, don’t move them! They’re lovely," Jiuzhu protested, shielding her jeweled hair. "Her Majesty personally chose them for me."

Yun Duqing sighed inwardly at the thought of his mother’s endless gifts of jewelry. If this continued, he’d have no idea what to give Jiuzhu as her husband.

"This is your first Grain in Ear ceremony. Stay close to Her Majesty later—just follow her lead." He lifted the carriage curtain slightly. "We’re almost at the suburban altar."

Upon arrival, Jiuzhu didn’t disembark immediately. The resonant sounds of ceremonial drums and horns filled the air before an official finally invited them to the altar.

Princess Huai and Princess Consort An were already waiting outside. Seeing Jiuzhu descend, they greeted her with proper courtesy, which she returned. Glancing around, Jiuzhu whispered, "Where is Third Sister-in-Law?"

Princess Huai smiled and bowed to Yun Duqing. Only after he departed with the official did she step closer to Jiuzhu and murmur, "Last night, the Third Prince and his consort had a terrible quarrel. This morning, he claimed she was unwell and couldn’t attend."

For such an important ritual, unless a prince and his consort were openly estranged, it was unthinkable to exclude the latter. Who would’ve thought the seemingly mild-mannered Third Prince could be so ruthless?

"Greetings to the Crown Princess and the Princess Consorts," Xiangjuan approached with a curtsy. "Your Highness, Her Majesty has sent me to escort you."

Witnessing this, Princess Huai sighed inwardly. Empress Su truly doted on Jiuzhu as her own daughter. By keeping the Crown Princess at her side during such an occasion, she was declaring to the world that Jiuzhu was the second most honored woman in the empire.

Mothers-in-law who suppressed their daughters-in-law far outnumbered those who elevated them—let alone to this extent.

"Jiuzhu, come." Empress Su beckoned as Jiuzhu approached. When the girl drew near, she asked softly, "This being your first sacrificial ceremony, are you nervous?"

Jiuzhu shook her head. "It’s lively with so many people."

Empress Su chuckled. "Indeed it is."

After briefing her on the ceremonial protocols, the Empress patted her hand reassuringly. "From now on, stand by my side. So long as I’m here, no one will dare criticize your conduct."

As the ox-horn trumpets blared, the ceremony began.

Officials, noblewomen, and princesses below the altar stood in solemn formation, holding their breaths.

Empress Su felt something brush against her foot. Looking down, she saw the peachwood gourd pendant Jiuzhu had carved for her.

Before leaving the palace, she had tied it securely at her waist—how had it come loose?

As the round gourd was about to roll down the steps, Empress Su bent her knees and reached out, catching the peachwood gourd at the edge of the altar just in time.

Whoosh.

The sound of an arrow cutting through the air reached her ears, but she didn’t immediately register the danger—only the sharp clang that followed.

She looked up and saw Jiuzhu holding the golden bronze hairpin she had gifted her, along with half of an arrow. The other half lay shattered on the ground.

"Father, Mother, there are assassins!" Jiuzhu grabbed Empress Su and shoved her into Emperor Longfeng’s arms, positioning herself protectively in front of them. She then pulled a golden hairpin from her own hair and thrust it into Yun Duqing’s hand. "Your Highness, use this to defend yourself."

No one was allowed on the altar except the ceremonial officer. The Imperial Guards, sensing trouble, rushed forward to protect the royals. But the ceremonial officer moved faster—drawing a throwing knife from his hat and aiming straight for Empress Su’s throat.

Without hesitation, Emperor Longfeng shielded Empress Su with his own body, using himself as a human shield.

Yet Jiuzhu was even quicker. The moment the "ceremonial officer" threw the knife, she seemed to predict its trajectory and hurled her bronze hairpin.

The hairpin and the knife collided midair, clattering to the ground together.

The ceremonial officer, stunned by the unexpected counter, barely had time to react before Jiuzhu kicked him off the altar.

The civil and military officials, startled by the sudden chaos, had only just cried out "Protect His Majesty!" when they saw the petite Crown Princess send one of the assassins tumbling down the altar steps.

Thanks to Jiuzhu’s swift reflexes, the Imperial Guards seized the opportunity to rush forward, forming an impenetrable circle around the four royals.

In the blink of an eye, Yun Duqing noticed Jiuzhu pulling another hairpin from her disheveled bun, her gaze sharp and wary—even the Imperial Guards weren’t entirely trusted at this moment.

The greatest danger now was the arrows flying from unknown directions.

By protocol, the area within two kilometers of the altar had been thoroughly inspected, and every attendee’s identity verified. Unless someone of high authority had conspired with the assassins, allowing them to infiltrate.

Looking at the hairpin in Jiuzhu’s hand and her messy hair, Yun Duqing wondered if his earlier words in the carriage had been an ill omen.

Why had he mentioned hairpins being deadly weapons?

Just then, arrows rained from all directions. The Imperial Guards raised their shields, guiding the royals down the altar steps.

Loyal ministers attempted to climb the altar to assist, but the guards, wary of potential accomplices, kept them at bay.

The six ministers quickly organized the evacuation of officials and noblewomen. Ming Jinghai drew a sword from a guard’s waist, standing tall and formidable at the perimeter. The officials from the Ministry of Personnel huddled behind him, suddenly feeling infinitely safer.

"Captain, look—aren’t those archers in the trees?" The Imperial Patrolmen, arriving at the outskirts of the altar, spotted something amiss. Several guards lay unconscious nearby, while two gray-clad, masked archers crouched in a tree.

"Move, move, move!" Yu Jian unsheathed his blade and hurled it at the tree. One archer fell with a thud. "Capture the assassins!"

"Brothers, our chance for glory is here!"

The patrolmen surged forward, throwing their knives in unison. The remaining archer in the tree was instantly turned into a pincushion.

"Something’s definitely wrong at the altar." Yu Jian yanked his knife from the assassin’s body. Seeing the man still breathing, he ordered his men to tie him up—a prize to present to the Crown Prince.

"These assassins are up to no good. Let’s sweep the area. There must be more."

No sooner had he spoken than a troop of Golden Armor Guards galloped toward them on horseback. Though both forces bore "gold" in their names, the Golden Armor Guards far outranked the patrolmen.

The Golden Armor Guards hadn’t expected to encounter street-patrolling soldiers here. Assuming they were merely chasing a fugitive, their leader flashed his badge. "We’re on official business. Stand aside."

Yu Jian cast an envious glance at their gleaming armor but remained polite. "Sirs, are you here to apprehend the assassins?"

The Golden Armor Guards tensed. The altar incident had been kept secret to avoid public panic—how did these lowly patrolmen know?

Hands resting on their hilts, the atmosphere grew thick with tension, a fight imminent.

"Please don’t misunderstand!" Yu Jian hurried to explain, pointing at the bound assassin and the tree where the other lay riddled with knives. "We caught these archers ourselves."

The Golden Armor Guards stared at the lifeless, arrow-riddled corpse in the tree, momentarily speechless.

"Sirs, my men are the best of the patrolmen. In such dire times, we’d be honored to assist."

The Golden Armor Guards hesitated. Letting them roam freely risked loose tongues. After a brief deliberation, they nodded.

"Very well. Your help is appreciated."

"We are all subjects of the Great Cheng. Loyalty to His Majesty is our duty."

The Imperial Guards' concerns were justified—among the officials, there were assassins in disguise. In the chaos, these assassins tore off their official robes, revealing the martial attire beneath.

The officials standing nearby were stunned. No wonder this colleague had remained silent all day—it turned out to be an impostor!

The assassin drew a dagger from his boot and swung it at the nearest official when suddenly, a pebble struck his arm.

The dagger clattered to the ground.

The assassin glared coldly at the one who had thrown the stone.

Ming Jingzhou, frail and pale, still clutched a few remaining pebbles in his hand.

"Vice Minister Ming, run!" The rescued official snapped out of his daze and lunged to grab the assassin's leg. "You are a pillar of our court—you must not come to harm!"

To his surprise, Ming Jingzhou not only refused to flee but also threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around the assassin's other leg.

"How could I abandon a fellow official and escape alone?"

"Seeking death?" The assassin sneered. "I’ll grant your wish."

His hands clenched into claws as he aimed for their throats, intent on snapping their necks.

Crack.

A searing pain shot through his ankle. The assassin screamed and collapsed to the ground.

"H-he… what happened to him?" The official stumbled back in terror before remembering Ming Jingzhou still sitting on the ground. He hurriedly pulled him up. "Vice Minister Ming, are you unharmed?"

"I’m fine." Ming Jingzhou brushed the dust from his sleeves. "This assassin must have weak bones. The moment I hugged his leg, it snapped."

"With such fragile bones, what kind of assassin is he?" The official picked up a nearby rock and, with a thud, knocked the groaning assassin unconscious.

"Vice Minister Ming, let’s tie him up together." As he spoke, he began undoing the assassin’s belt.

Ming Jingzhou couldn’t help but glance at him twice. Who would have thought the father-in-law of Prince Huai would be so… unconventional in his methods?

The official he had saved was none other than Vice Minister Wu of the Ministry of Works—the father of Princess Huai.

Why would assassins target Princess Huai’s father?

As he helped Vice Minister Wu bind the assassin, a suspicion formed in Ming Jingzhou’s mind. He straightened and looked toward the emperor and empress—only to see his daughter, Jiuzhu, plucking a hairpin from her hair and flicking it like a dart, striking down another assassin.

"Vice Minister Ming, the Crown Princess is truly formidable," Vice Minister Wu remarked in awe. "To take down an assassin with a single hairpin!"

"That child has studied a bit of medicine and knows some pressure points—just a minor skill." Ming Jingzhou coughed lightly. "Please don’t praise her too much."

Having thrown all her hairpins except the nine-tailed phoenix pin, Jiuzhu removed it and placed it in Empress Su’s hands, her dark hair cascading loose. "Mother Empress, please wait for me."

Her aim wasn’t perfect—half the pins missed their intended targets—so she needed to borrow more from the other consorts.

"Wait—!" Before Yun Duqing could stop her, she darted away in a flash.

She always claimed she was born in the Year of the Dog. Now he believed her.

Because she ran faster than one.

The high-ranking consorts huddled together when the Crown Princess suddenly appeared before them. With a quick "Forgive me," she plucked hairpins from their elaborate hairstyles.

As Jiuzhu reached for Concubine Wei’s pin, the concubine gritted her teeth and yanked at Jiuzhu’s skirt, trying to trip her.

Thud.

Instead, Concubine Wei was the one dragged face-first to the ground, her cheek scraping painfully against the floor.

"My apologies, Concubine Wei." Jiuzhu tossed the words over her shoulder as she sped off like the wind.

Concubine Wei lay sprawled, dazed.

Had she just tried to trip an ox?

Why was she the one on the ground?

This made no sense.

Armed with a fresh stash of hairpins, Jiuzhu felt slightly more confident—though her aim remained unreliable. She cringed inwardly but also felt a flicker of relief.

At least her masters weren’t here to witness her lack of talent.

When an assassin charging toward her took five or six pins before finally collapsing, Jiuzhu covered her face and ducked behind Yun Duqing.

Her childhood laziness had come back to haunt her. She couldn’t bear the embarrassment.

Under the relentless defense of the Golden Armor Guards and Imperial Guards, all assassins were subdued. Among them, three who had targeted officials met varied fates: two were cut down by Ming Jinghai’s blade, while the third—whose leg had mysteriously shattered—was tied up by Vice Ministers Ming and Wu.

Princess Huai, hearing her father was unharmed and had even helped capture an assassin alongside the Crown Princess’s father, finally relaxed.

The most pitiful were the assassins hacked apart by the Imperial Guards.

The most humiliated, however, were those left immobilized by multiple feminine hairpins, unable to die or move, glaring venomously at Jiuzhu, who still clutched a handful of unused pins.

If hatred could manifest as blades, Jiuzhu would have been skewered a hundred times over.

"Crown Princess!" one conscious assassin roared, loud enough for all to hear. "We acted on your orders to avenge the fallen dynasty! Why have you betrayed us?!"

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‍court erupted in uproar.

A grudge from the fallen dynasty?

The Crown Princess?!

The crowd turned their shocked gazes toward the Crown Princess, only to see the Crown Prince swiftly shielding her behind him without hesitation.

"You planned this, and now that your scheme is exposed, you dare slander the Crown Princess? How laughable." Yun Duqing's sharp eyes swept over the assembly, forcing them to avert their eyes in fear.

"Before even being tortured, you're already eager to pin this on the Crown Princess. Such an obvious frame-up wouldn't convince even a fool." Yun Duqing kicked the assassin at his feet. "Defaming the Crown Princess adds another count to your crimes."

"If the Crown Princess hadn't sworn to us that she came to the capital to avenge her master for the fall of the previous dynasty, why would we follow her orders and storm the altar?" The assassin spat bitterly. "Ming Jiuzhu, for wealth and status, you betrayed your master and us. You will—"

Before he could finish, Yun Duqing kicked out his front teeth.

"Drag him away and execute him for his nonsense." If he still couldn’t see this was a plot targeting Jiuzhu and the Ming family, he’d be a fool.

"Your Highness..." Before Jiuzhu could speak, Yun Duqing grasped her hand. "I won’t believe a word they say."

The hairpins she had been holding scattered to the ground. Jiuzhu looked at Yun Duqing’s resolute expression and their tightly clasped hands, her large eyes curving into crescents of joy.

At this moment, not a single court official stepped forward to accuse the Crown Princess.

They had all witnessed how fiercely she had shielded the Emperor, Empress, and Crown Prince.

The fallen dynasty had collapsed over a century ago. Even if descendants remained, they lacked the power to stir trouble.

So the truth was clear: someone was framing the Crown Prince and Crown Princess.

The ministers’ gazes turned toward the three princes—the most suspicious candidates.

Princes Huai and An shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny but couldn’t protest their innocence outright. They could only bow their heads, pretending ignorance.

Concubine Wei glanced toward the officials, hoping Du Qingke’s allies would speak up.

But the court remained silent.

No one questioned Ming Jiuzhu.

The imperial family was paranoid, and ministers were cautious when the Emperor’s safety was at stake. Normally, even if they doubted the assassins’ claims, they would interrogate Jiuzhu—

About her years in Lingzhou, her master’s identity.

But Jiuzhu defied expectations.

She had shielded the Emperor and Empress with her own body, kicked an assassin off the altar, severed arrows mid-flight with a hairpin, and halted the attackers’ advance.

Her uncle had saved officials’ lives, and her father, alongside Princess Huai’s father, subdued another assassin.

Without Jiuzhu, the Empress would be dead—and the Emperor might not have survived.

This wasn’t vengeance. It was devotion.

"Crown Princess, do not fret. The Empress and I will not believe these assassins’ lies," Emperor Longfeng declared. "By our decree: Crown Princess Ming Jiuzhu risked her life to protect Us and the Empress. But as family, gratitude need not be spoken. Her father, Ming Jingzhou, has raised an exemplary daughter and is a man of talent. From this day forth, he is appointed Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince and granted the title of Duke of Support."

The Emperor’s stance made it clear—he not only trusted the Crown Princess but would elevate the Ming family.

Concubine Wei clutched her wounded face, staring blankly at the scene.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

"Report! Your Majesty, Captain Yu Jian of the Imperial Guards has urgent news."

Yu Jian? The ministers exchanged puzzled looks.

"Father, this man is capable and shrewd," Yun Duqing said. "It’s worth hearing him out."

Emperor Longfeng nodded. "As the Crown Prince suggests. Summon him."

Yu Jian entered and prostrated deeply before revealing that the Du family’s steward had desecrated the late Emperor’s tomb.

The noble Du family?

All eyes turned to Du Qingke—yet his expression remained calm, even amused.

"Minister Du, do you have anything to say?"

"Your Majesty, Captain Yu Jian speaks the truth." Du Qingke removed his official hat and knelt. "I confess."

"Concubine Wei, why are you on the floor?" Consort Lü reached to help her, but Princess Consort An pulled her aside.

"Mother, stay away," she whispered. "Something’s wrong with Concubine Wei."

"What’s wrong? Is she having a fit?"

She’d never shown such symptoms before.

"Your Majesty, we found the Du family’s smithy mark on the assassins’ weapons."

Du Qingke remained kneeling, offering no defense.

Everyone vaguely sensed that something was amiss, but no one dared to speak rashly.

"Your Majesty, the weapons used by these assassins were indeed provided by me, but these men are not under my command." Du Qingke took out several letters from his robe. "I am guilty beyond pardon and willingly accept punishment."

Seeing the letters Du Qingke produced, Concubine Wei trembled even more violently. Had he gone mad? What good would this do him?

Prince Jing, sensing the situation turning against him, slipped unnoticed into the crowd and hurriedly left the scene.

After his audience with the Emperor, Yu Jian retreated, his legs unsteady. Only when he reached a secluded spot did he excitedly clench his fists and jump a few times in place.

Once he finished, he noticed Prince Jing sneaking alone into a corner, seemingly preparing to slip away through a hidden passage.

The assassination attempt had just occurred—why would Prince Jing flee instead of staying to accompany the Emperor and Concubine Wei?

Narrowing his eyes, Yu Jian followed him.

Meanwhile, chaos erupted within the sacrificial grounds.

Du Qingke had actually confessed that today’s assassination was a conspiracy orchestrated by him, Concubine Wei, and Prince Jing, working in collusion.

To drive a wedge in the Ming family?

To turn the Crown Prince and the Crown Princess against each other, making the Emperor suspect his own heir?

To kill the father of Princess Huai in the chaos, ensuring she would resent the Crown Princess?

The crowd listened in a daze, too stunned to react for a long moment.

Had Empress Su not suddenly knelt at the crucial moment when the arrows flew, the plot might have succeeded.

Had the Crown Princess not kicked aside the assassin and risked her life to protect the Emperor, the scheme might also have succeeded.

But Empress Su had bent her knee at the most critical instant.

As for the Crown Princess…

Well…

Her martial skills were astonishingly sharp—nothing like her frail father and brother.

No wonder the Ming family rarely spoke of her years spent in a Daoist temple. They had secretly trained her into a master, quietly placing her by the Crown Prince’s side to safeguard the imperial family.

The Ming family’s loyalty to the throne was truly moving.

Ming Jingzhou had no idea what the court officials were thinking, but their gazes toward him seemed… unusually bright.

"Father, who knew my sister was so formidable?" Ming Jiyuan whispered in his ear. "Those two Daoist masters must have been extraordinary."

Ming Jingzhou remained silent, smoothing his official robes.

Don’t ask him—he was just a feeble scholar with no strength to harm a chicken.

Emperor Longfeng took the letters Du Qingke presented and immediately recognized the handwriting—some penned by Prince Jing, the rest in an elegant script likely belonging to Concubine Wei or Prince Jing’s consort.

"I know my sins are grave and do not beg for mercy, only death." Du Qingke prostrated himself on the ground like a man already dead, devoid of vitality.

He wanted to die.

Jiuzhu saw in him not just resignation but a hint of madness—as if he intended to drag others down with him.

Noticing her gaze, Du Qingke lifted his head and met her eyes.

"I was born into a noble family, yet all it gave me was a life of constraint." He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Propriety and dignity were nothing but rotting sludge pressing down on me."

"In such a house, people aren’t people—they’re puppets of familial prestige." The twisted smile faded from Du Qingke’s face as he stared at Emperor Longfeng. "I couldn’t choose what I wanted. But the woman beside you betrayed you for gain—how much more glorious are you, really?"

"That’s going too far. You’re in no position to compare yourself to His Majesty," Jiuzhu interjected with impartial fairness. "The Emperor has Empress Su’s devotion, the Crown Prince’s reverence, the people’s love, and the court’s support. He is undoubtedly far more esteemed than you."

Emperor Longfeng coughed lightly, pretending he hadn’t heard.

Du Qingke fell silent.

Concubine Wei, forced to her knees by eunuchs, glared at Jiuzhu as if she wished to tear her mouth apart.

She turned to Du Qingke. "You did all this just to frame me?"

"Spare me the hypocrisy, Concubine Wei. Weren’t you scheming against me as well?" Du Qingke sneered. "You locked Prince Jing’s consort in the palace to cut ties with the Du family if the plot failed."

"You’re nothing but a foolish, greedy woman. How dare you think you could use me?" He scoffed. "If not for my desire to show the world how a concubine and prince betray their emperor, what made you think you could command me?"

Du Qingke looked back at Emperor Longfeng. "Your son wants you dead. Does that pain you?"

The Emperor said nothing, but Jiuzhu whispered, "Your Highness, where is Prince Jing?"

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!" A booming voice echoed from outside.

"Prince Jing was caught sneaking away like a thief!"