Chapter 50

After the ceremony, the palace banquet was abuzz with liveliness.

Compared to the previous dynasty, Great Wei’s customs were much more open.

Although Han rites were still followed, many of the rigid palace rules separating men and women had been simplified.

It was rare—but not unheard of—for unmarried county prince and princess to dine in the same hall like this.

Since each person had their own small table and was attended by either a servant boy or a close maid, the men and women were seated on opposite sides of the hall.

The prince could take this opportunity to mingle with court ministers—and sneak a few glances across the hall at which county princess had snow-white skin, a beautiful face, and proper bearing. These moments were few and far between. If they didn’t make the most of them now, they’d have to rely on those unreliable portrait paintings to pick a wife later.

But this year, it seemed the young heirs were all of one mind—their gazes kept drifting toward the upper end of the hall.

Unfortunately, the beauty they were hoping to see had already stepped behind the veil above the dais, accompanying the Emperor alongside the Grand Tutor for the imperial meal.

A sigh welled up in everyone’s hearts.

Pity she was a fallen noble; no son of a noble house would dare risk it all to marry the Emperor’s own younger sister.

After stepping through the beaded curtain under the guidance of Eunuch Ruan, Nie Qinglin naturally looked up to see who was seated on the dragon throne.

And at one glance, she was taken aback: who knew where Grand Tutor Wei Lenghou had picked up such a young boy? He looked to be about fifteen or sixteen, with a sharp little face and a pointed chin.

Especially those eyes—at first glance, he actually bore about seventy percent resemblance to her.

The young “Emperor” on the throne also widened his eyes slowly upon seeing Nie Qinglin.

His lips twitched slightly as if wanting to speak, but then he caught sight of the Grand Tutor’s phoenix eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Immediately, he shrank like a lamb seeing a tiger, tucking his neck into his dragon robe and dropping his head without daring to move again.

Nie Qinglin felt her eyelids sting slightly.

She really couldn’t bear to look—this shrinking-neck move inside the collar was exactly her style, down to the last bit.

The Grand Tutor didn’t even spare the fake emperor a glance.

He simply said to her in a low voice, “The Princess must be tired. Allow this humble subject to escort you to rest.”

He nodded subtly at Eunuch Ruan, signaling him to announce that His Majesty was weary and would return to the palace to rest.

Nie Qinglin slowly rose and left the grand hall alongside the Grand Tutor.

Wei Lenghou’s mood today was rather good.

If not for the need to put on appearances—since the Princess had just entered the palace—he would’ve much preferred to take her hand and stroll through the spring sunlight in the back palace.

Once they arrived at a certain palace gate, the Grand Tutor paused and smiled, his handsome face glowing faintly.

“I wonder if this palace garden suits Your Highness’s taste?”

Nie Qinglin looked closely: Fengchu Palace… This place had once belonged to the most beloved daughter of the late emperor—her fourth imperial sister, Princess Leyao. It wasn’t far from the rear gate of the palace.

Back in the day, Princess Leyao, though young, had the same flair as their father—she gathered male companions left and right, and there were even whispers that things between her and the Emperor were… not so clear.

Otherwise, why would a maiden of eighteen still have no imperial consort?

But scandal of that scale in the royal house was hard to spread openly.

Even among the noble families outside the palace, many of her lovers had come from their ranks.

That was why she’d requested this particular palace courtyard—it made slipping in and out at night far too convenient.

When the coup erupted, the princess just happened to be “out gathering herbs” and escaped the disaster.

She’s been missing ever since.

Wei Lenghou choosing this place wasn’t so she could follow in her sister’s wild footsteps—he had his own considerations.

This way, no matter how late it got, he could slip in and out through the back gate and secretly meet his beloved at will.

This residence had clearly been renovated recently.

Even the glazed tiles on the palace wall tops were newly fired, glinting dazzlingly under the sunlight.

Upon entering, one would find the courtyard even larger than those of standard sleeping quarters. Even emperors were bound by regulation and scale,too lavish and people would start talking.

But this palace, where the Princess would stay, had clearly thrown caution to the wind and gone all-in on extravagance.

Walking up jade steps into the residence, she saw the layout was complete—main chamber, study, guest hall, bedroom, all in place.

Especially the study,shelves full of books, but the decor screamed masculinity.

Clearly, it was designed for Wei Lenghou.

Within, a jade bed for napping had been placed, its whole body a translucent green, like it had been carved straight out of flowing water.

Even someone like Nie Qinglin, who had seen her share of fine jade, was momentarily stunned.

Jade of this quality, in a single massive slab, carved so finely, smooth and warm to the touch—truly priceless.

Looking around, every item in the room was exquisitely crafted.

No doubt about it—it was a golden house built to keep a beauty hidden away.

“How is it? Does Your Highness like it?” Wei Lenghou asked.

Nie Qinglin’s eyes dimmed slightly.

She ignored him.

Ever since that ridiculous mess in the monastery, she found even glancing at him to be a chore.

She knew very well that with someone like Wei Lenghou—Grand Tutor of Great Wei, one of the top dogs—throwing a little tantrum, acting a bit moody now and then, he wouldn’t take it to heart.

Since that was the case, why force herself to play nice and smile?

The Grand Tutor naturally knew what kind of petty tantrum this little Guo’er was throwing.

That day after he descended the mountain, he had indeed felt he had gone a bit overboard, and had harbored some vague worry that the little Guo’er’s body might not be quite right.

Upon returning to his residence, he sought out an experienced nanny from the palace in charge of upbringing and asked her about it.

Only then did he learn that the intense flowing from that day was something that only happened to women with a particular constitution—those who, in the throes of passion, reached their peak.

But even among such women, the number was pitifully small; and for it to occur even before formal consummation?

That was truly rare beyond rare.

Now, looking again at this Dragon Pearl’s face, all puffed up with anger, the Grand Tutor only found her tantrum unbearably cute—so much so one couldn’t get enough of looking at her.

His face, long accustomed to cold indifference, involuntarily bloomed like spring flowers.

Stepping forward, he embraced the delicate darling and planted a heavy kiss on her soft cheek.

He murmured, “The fragrance on my hands has long dried. Why is the Princess still upset? Could it be… you’re blaming me for neglecting you these past few days? Then I must spend several more nights here in the palace, to attend to you properly.”

Nie Qinglin’s cheeks turned scarlet at once, and she muttered softly, “Grand Tutor, you’re so shameless—it’s no wonder people say even the Xiongnu brutes wet themselves in fear at the sight of you. Turns out it’s your fingers that are so—so masterful…”

The Grand Tutor’s phoenix eyes widened,was this little rascal implying he used those skilled fingers to tickle the filthy crotches of Xiongnu men? At once, he scooped up the sharp-tongued imp and was about to press her down on the jade bed to let her fully appreciate the wondrous skill of the Marquis of Dingguo’s fingers.

But seeing her fluster and nearly break into tears, he pulled back slightly, then hugged her tighter and covered her with kisses again.

From his robes, he drew out several pages of paper—last night, with nothing better to do, he had taken a whimsical turn and written these imitating her previous “Confession of Guilt.”

On those pages, the Grand Tutor had penned a full self-critique: “Failing to unleash my strength fully, like Gun trying to control floods with a mere cudgel, letting the deluge drown my beloved upon the pillows…”

(T/N: Gun is a mythological figure in ancient Chinese lore, most famous for his failed attempt to control the Great Flood. His tried to build dikes and dams, using force and brute construction, which ultimately failed.)

If Nie Qinglin’s version was childish nonsense, then the Grand Tutor’s was nothing but three words: shameless to death!

Nie Qinglin felt she could no longer maintain her façade of calm.

Furious, she was about to jump off the bed when the Grand Tutor caught her in his arms again.

The teasing on his face faded, and within his sword brows and phoenix eyes was a solemn seriousness.

“Now that Your Majesty has entered the palace in the guise of a daughter, you should already know what lies in this minister’s heart. But the current situation is not yet stable—when the time comes, Your Highness may still need to appear before others in male garb. But from now on, this marquis’s little Guo’er may freely roam the palace in her woman’s dress.”

That one word—Guo’er—made Nie Qinglin tremble faintly.

She had an early memory of that childhood nickname, vaguely recalling it.

But ever since that night thirteen years ago, when her twin brother breathed his last, no one had called her by that name again.

Now, from amidst the ruins and rubble of memory, the Grand Tutor had suddenly tugged it out and struck a long-dormant chord, it made her heart stop for just a beat.

“The title ‘Princess Yong’an’ was personally given to Your Majesty by this humble servant. May Your Majesty enjoy peace and safety all her life. The Yong’an Princess welcomed into the palace today—she has been reborn for my sake. From head to toe, she is now wholly mine, Wei Lenghou’s. I only ask that Your Majesty set aside all else, and give her whole heart to this servant. Only then can she be safe and sound forever!”

The flicker of tenderness in her heart was thus swiftly scattered to smoke and ashes.

Nie Qinglin raised her eyes slightly, looking at that man as handsome as an immortal.

Her tone was soft and even: “I understand. From now on, I will treat the Grand Tutor as Heaven itself. I only ask for the Grand Tutor’s gentleness—my body is weak and cannot bear too much…”

The Grand Tutor laughed.

His large hand moved toward the Dragon Pearl, and he kissed her rosy lips deeply…

Wei the Grand Tutor was a man of unmatched insight and shrewdness, always able to make the best use of everything and everyone.

Nie Qinglin had thought that now, having resumed her role as a woman, she would finally be able to stay away from court affairs and enjoy a life of peace and quiet.

But who would’ve thought she would have to juggle two roles—often even stepping in to play the emperor seated upon the throne!

Back when the Grand Tutor had ordered renovations for the Fengchu Palace, he had accidentally discovered a secret passage connecting it directly to the emperor’s bedchamber.

The purpose of this passage perfectly corroborated the scandalous rumors between Princess Leyao and the late emperor.

But the Grand Tutor did not order it sealed.

Instead, it saved Dragon Pearl the trouble of sneaking back and forth between the two palaces.

Now that the southern frontier was still unsettled, the palace could not afford any internal disturbance.

So the “emperor” would need to remain on the throne for some time yet.

Usually, the imposter need only sit behind a curtain.

But on formal occasions where one had to appear in person, Nie Qinglin would have to take the stage herself.

Just like today—at the spring military review parade, showing up was unavoidable.

On the high reviewing platform, one could not pull the curtain closed without arousing suspicion, and with accompanying officials on either side, hiding her face was not an option.

So Nie Qinglin returned to her bedchamber and changed into the long-unused dragon robe.

Fully dressed and waiting for the imperial sedan, she took a moment to survey the sleeping chamber that had lain empty these past few days.

Though none of the furnishings had changed, the vast room somehow felt chillier and lonelier.

That boy who had posed as the crown prince—who knew where he was now imprisoned?

She ascended the drill ground, then mounted the high reviewing platform.

Below, the great army was already assembled and had begun their formations.

The blood of warriors ran hot in the veins of the Marquis of Wei—he had long since donned his armor and taken up the command flag, now stepping to the front lines.

Nie Qinglin sat tall in the seat of honor.

The strings of pearls hanging from her ceremonial crown veiled her face and shielded her from the crowd’s gaze.

As the Grand Tutor personally led the drills, she watched from the high platform.

He rode atop a great steed, commanding the troops like a dragon diving into the vast sea—his entire aura transformed in an instant.

He seemed possessed by the spirit of Prince Lanling himself, becoming a beautiful yet bloodthirsty god of war.

(T/N: Prince Lanling  refers to Gao Changgong, a real historical figure and prince of the Northern Qi Dynasty (550–577 CE) in ancient China. He lived during the time of the Northern and Southern Dynasties (a period of political division and frequent warfare) and became a legendary figure due to his striking combination of military brilliance and delicate, almost feminine appearance.)

The battlefield swirled with dust beneath the scorching sun.

The air was thick with the scent of men’s sweat and blood.

The Grand Tutor extended his long arm and waved the command flag.

At once, a line of generals stepped out, and the block formations surged forward, fanning out like fish scales in an offensive formation.

With another wave, the ranks shifted again into a wild goose formation.

Soldiers wielding long-handled horse-reaping sickles rolled across the ground under the protection of shields, slicing through a row of bamboo-pole horse legs…

In just a moment, the formations shifted a thousand times—it dazzled the eyes.

Most present were civil officials, who had never witnessed such raw and magnificent might.

Every one of them watched with blood pounding, as though they too had cast aside their brushes and joined the army, burning with heroic dreams of drawing steel and being ennobled.

As the Grand Tutor passed by the reviewing platform, he lifted his head as if unintentionally and smiled faintly at the emperor above.

A strange light flickered in his phoenix eyes.

Nie Qinglin gently fanned herself with a small white jade fan edged in gold, shielding her face from the drifting willow catkins and from the eyes of the surrounding ministers.

She returned the Grand Tutor’s gaze with a cool, elegant smile.

The attending officials on both sides continued to observe the field with great interest, murmuring amongst themselves.

When the blood-stirred soldiers roared loudly, the sound truly shook the heavens, and the glint of drawn blades was so fierce it made eyes ache.

Only Ge Qingyuan remained quietly standing behind the young emperor.

Once the drills were over and Nie Qinglin turned to leave, passing by her, her hand fan slipped to the ground.

Ge Qingyuan, just behind, immediately stepped forward to pick it up and respectfully handed it to Eunuch Ruan, who then passed it up to the emperor.

Nie Qinglin glanced around and, seeing no one paying attention, chuckled in a low voice, “Has Lord Ge been well lately? The river repairs all done?”

Ge Qingyuan responded in that husky yet soft voice, “I’m now stationed in the Ministry of Revenue, assisting the Grand Tutor in preparing grain and provisions.”

Nie Qinglin nodded.

She recalled the other day in the study, she’d gained quite a bit.

The Grand Tutor’s collection of books was vast, and flipping through them during idle hours had broadened her understanding of the southern frontiers and the northern seas.

A few days ago, while sitting in the inner chamber, she even overheard the Grand Tutor reprimanding the Ministry of Revenue.

She no longer paid Ge Qingyuan any mind, continuing on as she said, “A few days ago during the grand ceremony, We came to some understanding about grain farming. But two harvests a year still seem too few! Eh, Eunuch Ruan, are there grains that can be harvested three or even four times a year?”

Eunuch Ruan replied with a grin, “Aiyo, in reply to Your Majesty, this humble one has never heard of such precious crops existing in our Great Wei…”

As he spoke, he helped the little emperor back up the platform.

Only Ge Qinglin was left standing there, amidst a faint sweet fragrance, seemingly lost in thought…

The new king of the Southern Frontier was wildly ambitious, and the people there were fierce and unruly.

Day by day, he was becoming a serious threat to Great Wei.

Recently, he had even swallowed up several smaller surrounding states, and his nation was growing stronger.

The Grand Tutor knew well: the longer they delayed, the more time the Southern Frontier had to prepare, and the harder it would be to deal with them.

Yet now, with Great Wei suffering both internal strife and external threats, there was simply no strength to spare, only the helplessness of watching the Southern Frontier rise.

Since they couldn’t go to war just yet, the only option was to work from within.

Princess Qike of the Southern Frontier was the key piece in this game.

Ambitious by nature, she had been sent back by them under the guise of a Great Wei envoy.

She would certainly reach out to the various tribes to gather power for herself.

They would then secretly fund her, supply her with resources, enabling her to stand on equal footing with the Southern King.

Meanwhile, Great Wei could recuperate and recover from the disasters and chaos of past years.

Princess Qike truly lived up to the phrase “a heroine who yields not to men.”

Borrowing the momentum of her brother’s military campaign, she cleverly exploited the surrounding minor kingdoms’ fear and unease, successfully rallying several of them to jointly resist the Southern King.

But of course, buying people’s loyalty and propping up puppet armies required silver.

Before long, the freshly replenished treasury was once again on the verge of running dry.

Not only were there no surplus funds, even the provisions for the heavy troops stationed on the southern border were about to be cut off.

In recent days, the Ministry of Revenue had been cursed to high heaven by the Grand Tutor.

The officials from the Ministry of Works watched with tears of joy, finally feeling like the dark cloud that had been pressing down on them for a full year had moved on.

Now, they could joyfully climb out of bed each morning to attend court, what a blessing indeed.

Still, whenever they looked at Ge Qingyuan, their gazes carried a touch of sympathy.

What bad luck, the man had just made some political achievements, only to be transferred into the Ministry of Revenue when the treasury was running on fumes.

But Ge Qingyuan was truly a capable man.

Even when ordered by the Grand Tutor to gather a hundred thousand dan of grain within ten days, he showed no change in expression.

The day after the military drill, he came alone to the study to meet with Wei Lenghou.

The Grand Tutor looked up at the young man and asked, “So, Lord Ge, have you managed to gather the provisions?”

Ge Qingyuan lowered his head and replied, “It is now spring, and every region is busy with farming. If we forcefully collect a hundred thousand dan of grain now, we may end up scooping up the spring seed stock just as it’s about to be planted. If that happens, the consequences will be immediate—next year, widespread famine across the land…”

The Grand Tutor’s expression turned cold.

“I know that better than you. But what does your Ministry of Revenue do, then? You people didn’t stockpile enough military grain last autumn. Now that we’re at this lean season, you come to report there’s no grain? Are you planning to starve our border troops to death so the Southern King can just ride in unopposed?”

Truth be told, this had little to do with Ge Qingyuan.

The mess was left by the previous Minister of Revenue.

Back when the Grand Tutor was promoting frugality and better financial planning, the former minister had tried to win favor by cutting corners, he even embezzled the silver allocated for building granaries.

The people below, lacking the necessary funds, had no choice but to replace the solid green bricks meant for the foundations with cheap, lightweight furnace slag bricks.

Those bricks were full of holes, allowing moisture through.

After several heavy snowfalls that winter, the thaw come spring turned into a disastrous seepage.

When the low-level officials opened the granaries, they were met with a wave of moldy stench.

The entire row of warehouses, stretching a whole mile, was ruined, every grain blackened and sprouting fuzz.

A mess of that scale couldn’t possibly be kept quiet.

When the Grand Tutor found out, he was furious.

The former Minister of Revenue and his whole family were exiled to the borders to farm grain for life.

But the disaster still needed someone to mop up and the one stuck wiping that rear end was the newly appointed Vice Minister of Revenue, Ge Qingyuan.

Ge Qingyuan knew perfectly well that, even though the disaster wasn’t his doing, shirking responsibility now would be pointless.

So, he presented a map to Eunuch Ruan, who handed it over to the Grand Tutor.

The Grand Tutor opened it and  it was a map of the border between the Southern Frontier and Great Wei, with some figures marked.

“Please, Grand Tutor, have a look. This is a chart of the grain ripening times across the land. Though the Southern Frontier and our nation are separated only by the Heng Range, that single mountain makes for vastly different climates. In Great Wei, our wheat and rice yield two harvests at most—spring and summer. In the north, even just one. But south of the Heng Range, rice can be harvested three times a year, quite commonly. So naturally, the Southern Frontier has far more abundant grain supplies…”

The Grand Tutor studied the map expressionlessly, then suddenly sneered.

“Well, well, Ge Qingyuan. What was supposed to be your Ministry’s job, you’ve now handed off to the Ministry of War. And now you lot get to sit back and twiddle your thumbs!”

Ge Qingyuan immediately bowed.

“I wouldn’t dare. But the priority now is to solve the grain shortage. The Grand Tutor cherishes the people and can’t bear to disturb the foundation of Great Wei’s livelihood. Then the only solution is to rob the Southern Frontier’s granaries and break this siege.”

The Grand Tutor’s phoenix eyes lowered slightly, falling on the highlighted area of the map.

That was the rice basket of the Southern Frontier.

In less than half a month, it would be harvest season.

When that time came, all of Southern Frontier—men, women, young, and old—would be out in the fields.

Even the soldiers in the army would be called home to help with the farm work…

If they struck swiftly, a lightning raid could empty those storehouses clean, solving the grain crisis in one stroke and also snuffing out the Southern King’s arrogance.

But they couldn’t move under Great Wei’s banner, this had to be carefully planned, with proper disguises, so that the Southern Frontier would be forced to swallow this bitter loss in silence…

He looked again at the young man standing before him… So young, yet already so steady in thought.

He could tell this one would face plenty of setbacks in the officialdom, just like he himself, Wei Lenghou—had when he first entered court, often stuck with unpleasant tasks no one wanted.

But rare indeed was a young official who kept his feet on the ground, not chasing lofty titles or ambitions.

One who handled what was within his post with care and cleverness, always finding a new path… truly a promising talent.

With that, the Grand Tutor waved a hand.

“Lord Ge, you may go.”

Ge Qingyuan knew the trouble at the Ministry of Revenue was finally handled.

As he followed the young eunuch out of the palace, he saw Princess Yong’an riding her sedan chair, heading toward the study.

The beauty seated atop the palanquin wore robes whiter than snow.

At the hem bloomed a single pale pink peony, its petals stretching and curling along the thin waistline.

Her long black hair was tied up neatly, falling behind her head, with jade hairpins swaying lightly.

On her smooth forehead was a flower ornament shaped like petals in bloom, making her brows and eyes appear even more charming.

Her hand, resting lightly on the palanquin’s armrest, wore a white jade bracelet, and she held a white jade fan edged in gold, gently tapping it against the armrest.

Ge Qingyuan quickly stepped aside, bowing his head to let the princess pass.

As the palanquin swept by, her skirt fluttered, and that embroidered peony seemed to bloom before his very eyes.

A delicate, intoxicating fragrance brushed gently past the tip of his nose…

Once the palanquin passed, Ge Qingyuan slowly lifted his head, those deep dark eyes gazing directly at the petite figure seated within.