Chapter 51

To think that being a princess could be even busier than being the emperor!

This was something Nie Qinglin hadn’t seen coming.

Lately, the fervor for Buddhism in Great Wei had only grown stronger by the day.

Don’t be fooled by how back then, during the disaster relief, the Grand Tutor had to scare and threaten the wealthy in the capital just to scrape together some donations.

But when it came time to build temples, there was no need for threats—every last one of those high officials and nobles scrambled over themselves to donate hefty sums of incense money, terrified that if they so much as lagged a step behind, they’d be looked down upon by the Buddha in heaven and lose a portion of their worldly riches.

So the newly built Hanxiang Temple in the capital was grand beyond measure.

Just past the imposing row of mountain gates, one would see a massive stone tortoise bearing a tablet, and the tablet was carved all over with the names of those who had donated to the temple’s construction—there were actually ten of them.

The magnificence of the main hall needed no further praise, and even the scripture library at the rear of the temple soared so high it nearly pierced the heavens.

The day the temple opened its gates to the public was also the Day of Release for Great Wei’s devout men and women.

All the wealthy ladies in the capital were planning to go to the Hanshan temple that day to release live animals as part of their Buddhist merit-making.

The one hosting this release ceremony was none other than the Princess Consort of Yonghe.

She had long been devoted to Buddha and was well acquainted with the temple’s abbot, so she sent out widespread invitations to the wives and daughters of the elite, inviting them to join a Buddhist gathering on the Day of Release at the temple.

The abbot made special arrangements, opening the Dharma Hall near the Release Pond just for these noblewomen, so that regular incense-offerers wouldn’t disturb them.

The Princess Consort of Yonghe was someone who paid attention to the social scene.

After sending invitations to the princess consorts of various prince’s households, the wives of nobles ranked third grade and above, and the legitimate daughters of those families, she hesitated a bit when it came to the palace.

If this had been back when the late emperor was still alive, what princess wouldn’t have been present at such an occasion?

But now, the palace was eerily empty.

Of the late emperor’s six daughters, some were imprisoned, some married off to foreign lands, some had gone missing.

In this vast palace, the only one left who could still hold up appearances was the emperor’s biological younger sister who had only just returned from a nunnery.

Whether or not to invite such a fallen-from-grace princess, the Princess Consort of Yonghe pondered for a long while.

In the end, she decided to send the invitation.

First, the princess did have deep ties with Buddhism—emotionally and logically, the Buddhist gathering should include her.

Not sending her an invitation would be too blatant a snub to the emperor’s sister, and the old ministers loyal to the former emperor would surely start wagging their tongues.

Second, she wanted to see for herself what sort of beauty it was that had made her daughter come back from the title-conferring ceremony looking all upset.

Ever since the Prince of Yonghe had been led astray by a young and pretty girl, the usually aloof and dignified princess consort had come to understand the value of nipping danger in the bud.

If this princess truly was as stunning as her daughter said, then she might just be a hidden threat to her daughter’s position at the top of the harem.

If that were the case, it’d be better to act early.

The invitation to Princess Yong’an was sent into the palace and made its way straight to the Grand Tutor’s desk.

He glanced at the letter, and at first, he was ready to toss it aside and act like he hadn’t seen it.

But then a thought struck him: the reason he had sought out the Dragon Pearl to restore her female identity was precisely because he didn’t want her shackled to that dragon throne.

His Guo’er had suffered too much in the first half of her life and had never known the joy of being doted upon as a royal princess. When she was emperor, she had to stay on high alert every second of every day, surrounded by danger. But now, as a princess, things were much freer…

Thinking this, he called for Nanny Shan and gave her detailed instructions, allowing Nie Qinglin to leave the palace to refresh her spirits.

When Nie Qinglin heard the news, she was quite surprised.

Though she had talked about becoming a nun before, her devotion to Buddhism wasn’t particularly deep.

Still, a Buddhist gathering was a good excuse to get out and breathe some fresh air, so she gladly agreed to attend.

On the Day of Release, the road leading to Hanshan Temple was bustling with activity.

The old abbot of the temple had previously overseen several mountain temples and had set the rule early on: on the opening day, entry was only allowed with an invitation.

This spared the temple gates from being trampled down.

One could see luxury carriages rolling toward the temple gates in a steady stream.

Vendors on both sides of the road seized the opportunity to set up stalls and hawk their wares.

For a time, the solemn temple seemed to fall into the mundane world, swallowed up by the din of human voices, unable to transcend.

By late morning, just as the crowd had grown thickest, a large group of soldiers suddenly cleared the road, driving off all the vendors one by one.

Then they sprinkled floral-scented water across the road to purify it, followed by attendants setting up silk-covered partitions on both sides, separating the crowd.

Only then did a line of carriages slowly make its way toward the temple gates.

The common folk had no idea about the tangled affairs of palace romances and the joys and sorrows of dragon-born nobility.

Seeing such a grand procession, they simply assumed the Grand Tutor, the Marquis of Dingguo, was going to the temple to offer incense!

At the temple gate, Nie Qinglin finally stepped down from the carriage with the help of Nanny Shan.

The Princess Consort of Yonghe and the other noblewomen had arrived at the temple much earlier.

Though they were none too pleased by the princess’s late arrival, once informed of her presence, they gathered at the mountain gate according to etiquette to welcome Princess Yong’an.

When the princess stepped down from her carriage, the Princess Consort of Yonghe lifted her eyes and carefully scrutinized this dragon-blooded noble girl who had recently returned to the palace after a stormy fate.

The princess was wearing a pale pink full-length gown made from three layers of sheer silk, stacked to form petal-like shapes.

The skirt trailed behind her like a drifting mist, soft and flowing with her graceful steps.

Her palace-styled hair bun was simple and fresh, adorned only with a hairpin at the base of the bun—a large piece of pink tourmaline shaped like a petal, set against a frosted gold leaf base.

She looked just like a cluster of peach blossoms basking in sunlight.

The princess consort was momentarily stunned by the sweet and youthful aura radiating from this princess.

She was no country bumpkin herself—she had seen the world.

With just one glance, she recognized that the princess’s gown was made from Shuitian Silk.

This Shuitian Silk was made from silver silkworm threads—true to its name, the silver-colored silkworms were raised on an island beyond the Northern Sea.

Their keepers would sprinkle powdered silver onto the mulberry leaves they were fed.

By the time these little silkworms devoured mulberry leaves day and night and finally climbed up to spin their cocoons, they would have swallowed enough silver to weigh a thousand taels.

The threads these pampered silkworms spat out were bright as silver—soft, yet with a slight stiffness.

When woven using a special technique, the resulting silk looked like thin mist, light and ethereal, perfect for layering into shapes at will.

Because this kind of gauze had an extremely low annual yield, it was usually only used to make decorative headpieces for “pile-sand” hairstyles, and just one piece alone was expensive enough to make people click their tongues in disbelief.

On the day her daughter, Lin Miaosheng, entered the palace to have an audience with His Majesty, she had relied on her wide connections and the hard backing of the prince’s manor to buy, at double the price, three limited-edition hairpins made of shuitian silk inlaid with deep-sea pearls.

Today, the princess consort had her daughter wear one of them again on her head and even deliberately dressed her in pure white, just to highlight that hairpin — all so her daughter would look a cut above the other county princesses.

Sure enough, just now, many ladies and young noblewomen had looked on with envy, repeatedly asking where the hairpin was bought and whether any were still for sale in the capital, which really gave her and her daughter a lot of face.

But now, this rare and precious light gauze had been casually cut and made into a full dress by a princess who was supposed to be neglected in some shabby temple.

Not only that, the skirt had three layers of floor-length trailing hem, piled on thick and it really left people dumbfounded, and instead made the headpiece on her daughter’s head look small-time and tacky in comparison…

The princess consort quickly gathered her surprise and smiled as she saluted the princess.

Nie Qinglin had seen this Princess Consort Yonghe before back when she lived in the palace, but now, having just returned as a princess herself, she had to act as if they didn’t know each other.

She smiled slightly, allowed the lady-in-waiting beside her to make the proper introductions, then greeted the old princess consort and proceeded to exchange pleasantries one by one with the noble ladies present.

Now that the distinguished guests were all assembled, the host announced the start of the Release Pond ceremony.

The Release Pond connected to a lakeside outside the temple.

On normal days, it was guarded by dedicated personnel, with fishing strictly prohibited to prevent others from undoing the merit of those performing the release.

Most people released carp bought from the market.

Nie Qinglin kept things simple , she directly ordered a young eunuch to scoop a few fat koi from the palace pond and bring them here in a wooden bucket.

For those koi, moving from the cramped palace pool to the wide lakeside waters could be considered a blessing in itself — a deed of merit.

But Lin Miaosheng had to be extra.

Yonghe Prince’s manor came to release a rare giant turtle instead.

Judging from its size, it must’ve been close to a hundred years old — quite a rarity.

Princess Consort Yonghe smiled and explained that the manor’s steward had stumbled upon it while buying aquatic goods and brought it back, sparing the turtle from ending up stewed in someone’s pot.

But everyone present knew full well — how could something this rare just show up at some wet market? It had clearly been bought with a mountain of silver.

Still, no one dared to point it out.

Everyone just put on surprised expressions, and the surrounding noblewomen chorused their praise, saying the turtle looked full of spiritual energy — that it must’ve accumulated the blessings of several lifetimes to encounter the princess consort and the princess, who had saved its life.

This mother-daughter duo’s virtuous act was truly a deed of immense merit…

Yet Nie Qinglin watched as the giant turtle slowly opened its mouth, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth, and couldn’t help frowning.

After everyone finished their flattery, she quietly stepped forward and softly said to the princess consort, “Judging by its teeth, this turtle doesn’t seem to be the kind that feeds on pondweed and shrimp. Your Grace has shown great compassion, but perhaps it’d be better to keep it separately penned. If it’s released into the pond, I’m afraid it might wipe out all the fish and shrimp inside…”

Her reminder was kindly meant.

Normally, if anyone had whispered such a thing in private, the princess consort might’ve given it some thought.

But she was already upset that the princess’s shuitian silk gown had outshone her daughter’s look.

Now she was being told that the rare spiritual creature she prepared for the ceremony wasn’t suitable for release.

That immediately stirred her anger.

Yet she didn’t let it show, and instead smiled sweetly and raised her voice: “All creatures between Heaven and Earth have their purpose. Everyone says this turtle carries spiritual energy. How does the princess know that, after being surrounded day and night by incense smoke from this temple, it wouldn’t turn wholeheartedly toward goodness? If we’re so afraid it might kill, we might as well imprison it — wouldn’t that be a shame? As for those shallow-fated, thin-blessed ones, even if they perish, that’s Heaven’s will. Just because something enters a golden pond doesn’t mean it’s destined to live long…”

Everyone knew by now that Prince Yonghe had once been the mentor of Wei Lenghou.

Naturally, this old princess consort was now one of the most sought-after noblewomen in court.

Hearing her openly throw shade at Princess Yong’an, everyone quickly took the hint and chimed in with their own flattery.

Nie Qinglin didn’t quite know how she had offended this old princess consort, but she clearly caught the edge in her words.

She’d been raised like a boy since childhood and never developed the habit of bickering with women.

Having long grown used to the sharp tongues and backhanded jabs of palace concubines, she wasn’t particularly bothered by the old consort’s thinly veiled barbs.

She simply smiled faintly and said no more.

Once everyone had released their fish into the water, the giant turtle was slowly lifted and placed into the pond.

This turtle had been purchased from the south with a heap of silver, and it had gone hungry for several days on the cargo ship.

Today, fresh off the boat, it had been brought straight to the temple.

The moment it hit the water and saw all those plump fish swimming around, it immediately launched into a feast.

Most of the fish were wild ones caught from rivers and streams.

Upon seeing this monstrous creature, they scattered in panic and darted down the water channel toward the lake.

Only Nie Qinglin’s koi remained — used to leisurely drifting in the palace pond and grown rather plump and sluggish and when they saw the turtle coming at them with its fangs bared, they froze like idiots.

In just a few chomps, the turtle swallowed all of Nie Qinglin’s koi alive, leaving nothing but a few scales floating on the surface and a rank, fishy stench wafting in the air.

No one had expected such a buzzkill of a scene and the “spiritual creature” had turned into a monster in a flash.

Everyone stared at the now-sated turtle that had sunk to the bottom of the pond, dumbfounded, and couldn’t help sneaking glances at both the old princess consort and the princess.

Although the Princess Consort of Yonghe had earlier been fuming that the princess had ruined her moment, she never expected the turtle to break its fast so quickly and right in front of everyone, no less and go on a killing spree, swallowing the princess’s prized koi whole.

She was flustered on the spot, but still had to maintain her poise in front of the crowd, forcing a calm smile as she slowly and politely offered her apologies to the princess.

Nie Qinglin felt she’d stood by the pond long enough.

Word was, the abbot had prepared quite the spread of fine vegetarian dishes for the noble guests, so she thought she might as well go get an early taste.

After listening to the old princess consort’s half-hearted apology, she smiled and said, “No need to dwell on it, Princess Consort. As you just said, those born with thin fortune and short lives—even if they swim into the golden pond—might not live long enough to become blessed spirits. These koi ended up in the spirit turtle’s belly, perhaps receiving incense and scripture, which might help them cultivate twice the result with half the effort. Still, when Your Grace has nothing better to do, do come stroll around the lakeside more often, chant a few scriptures to enlighten the spirit turtle. Lest when it ascends to immortality one day, it’s all alone in the lake, unable to bring its kind along to ascend like chickens and dogs—it’d be lonely, wouldn’t it?”

With that said, Princess Yong’an let her attendant support her and, graceful as a wisp of smoke, headed off toward the Dharma Hall.

The old princess consort remained rooted to the spot, feeling her face burn with embarrassment.

That Princess Yong’an, was she really raised in a temple courtyard? How could her tongue be that sharp? On the surface, she acted all generous and unconcerned, but that jab about “all alone” was clearly mocking her for losing her husband.

So what if she’s a high-ranking princess consort? At night, she’s still stuck guarding an empty lamp all by herself, isn’t she?

That one strike to the softest spot nearly made her grind her teeth to dust.

But since she was clearly in the wrong, she couldn’t lash out in public.

All she could do was plaster on a smile and follow after the princess into the Dharma Hall.

After a round of scripture discussion, the vegetarian banquet began.

The table was soon filled to the brim with plates and bowls, and the flavors actually outdid even those of Youyun Mountain’s famed temple dishes.

Nie Qinglin found the trip entirely worthwhile, and ate to her heart’s content.

Last time at court, Lin Miaosheng had only seen the princess from a distance, unable to get a good look.

But now, up close, she could see everything clearly.

That princess’s skin really was like it was glazed with cream—so smooth and delicate.

Every feature on her face was perfectly shaped, and her figure and presence completely outclassed hers.

That familiar twinge of inferiority rose up in her chest again, and the more she looked at the princess, the more a faint bitterness crept into her eyes.

Today’s feast? Actually her idea.

She’d quietly suggested it to her mother.

After all, that princess had only just entered the palace.

Even if she had some etiquette training, eating was where a person’s upbringing would show the most.

This vegetarian banquet followed palace protocols to the letter and even the tea cups in front of them had their own specific uses, and the size and placement of the bowls and plates for noodles all had their own particular rules.

If someone hadn’t been raised among the noble families, steeped in refined habits since birth, how could they possibly dine with elegance and decorum?

Let her make a fool of herself in front of all the noble ladies.

By tomorrow, she’d be the laughingstock of the capital…

But when the feast began, Lin Miaosheng realized with a start that the princess wasn’t the slightest bit flustered.

Calm and composed, she enjoyed her meal as though she were the true mistress of the hall.

More importantly, there wasn’t a trace of affected girlish coyness in her.

Among the crowd of noblewomen carefully minding their manners, this princess ate the most naturally and yet never once did she slip up on etiquette.

Instead of turning into a scandal, the scene ended up mesmerizing everyone.

They kept sneaking glances at the princess as she ate, thinking: She really is like a painting come to life.

So much for the mother-daughter scheme.

All their plotting crumbled in front of Nie Qinglin’s composed demeanor.

After the banquet and the end of the Dharma gathering, the crowd sent off Princess Yong’an with the utmost ceremony as she boarded her carriage.

The old princess consort glanced at her daughter’s darkened expression and immediately understood that this Princess Yong’an would definitely be a stumbling block on her daughter’s path to the throne! In that case, she could never let her guard down again.

Her daughter, the proud daughter of the Princess Consort of Yonghe should be the one crowned Empress, ruling over the inner palace with virtue and glory!

The next day was the grand court ceremony of the new month.

The Emperor would first lead his officials in a ritual to the heavens before starting morning court.

Nie Qinglin, having only just wrapped up the temple gathering the day before, now had to change into the dragon robes and lead the court in the three kneelings and nine prostrations.

Step by step, she climbed the stairs of the Heavenly Altar to finish the prayers, then returned to the main hall.

She had barely sat down on the dragon throne and caught her breath when waves of ministers surged forward with their petitions.

“Your Majesty must be aware that the imperial treasury of Great Wei is in dire straits. It’s a difficult time for the nation. The Grand Tutor has long been an advocate of frugality and he even canceled his own birthday banquet. We have all followed his example, not daring to waste even a thread or a needle. However… this minister has heard that Princess Yong’an wears garments made of that notoriously expensive shuitian silk. And she parades through the city in such extravagant clothing and this clearly goes against the Grand Tutor’s intent of austerity. The capital is already stirring with rumors, accusing Your Majesty of pampering your sister to excess and squandering the last silver coins in the treasury!”

The one lodging this complaint was the Right Deputy Minister of Personnel and his face full of righteousness, eyes brimming with tears, practically crying like the princess’s robes had brought ruin upon his entire household.

Nie Qinglin knew this man.

He was originally the nephew of the former Minister of Personnel’s principal wife and had married her cousin, the second daughter of the Minister’s family.

Then came the palace upheaval.

Overnight, this man’s sense of justice exploded: he led the charge in denouncing his own uncle-in-law, becoming famous for sacrificing family ties for the sake of righteousness.

After that, he divorced his first wife and sending her back to her ruined family, then took a new wife: a low-born daughter of the Yonghe Prince’s household, thus saving himself from being dragged down with the old Minister’s faction.

Now it seemed this man had tasted the sweetness of wielding the sickle of “justice” and had taken it upon himself to act in the Grand Tutor’s stead, thinking that stomping on this unmovable Emperor might win the Grand Tutor’s favor.

Just yesterday, he’d paid a visit to the Yonghe residence.

Didn’t bother to see his mother-in-law, who was still just a concubine.

Instead, he brought expensive gifts to flatter the Princess Consort and conveniently overheard her “casually” mentioning the princess’s clothing.

He immediately took the hint, burned the midnight oil writing a passionate memorial, and practiced his expressions in front of the bronze mirror half the night.

But sitting behind the curtain, Nie Qinglin, upon hearing the minister’s words, finally understood where that dress from yesterday came from.

Her heart gave a slight jolt.

She had simply picked that outfit because it looked nice, a young girl’s fondness for beauty but had no idea how valuable it really was.

Hearing the complaint now, she thought: I always thought all my clothes were provided by the palace wardrobe.

How could the servants be so thoughtless? Giving such extravagant garments that fit for an empress, even…to a mere princess?

When the Deputy Minister finally finished his long-winded appeal, seeing the Grand Tutor’s face darken, he was instantly overjoyed.

Convinced he’d scratched an itch for the old man, he pressed on with even more fervor: “If even one princess behaves like this, what happens when all the women in the capital start copying her? Wouldn’t the very foundation of Great Wei be in danger? Your Majesty! A thousand-mile dam can collapse from a single ant’s nest…”

“Enough!” the Grand Tutor suddenly bellowed, startling the entire court into drawing back their necks like turtles.

The next wave of the Deputy Minister’s crocodile tears was scared right back into his eyes.

“The princess’s clothing did not come from the national treasury,” the Grand Tutor barked.

“They were provided by this marquis, from my personal funds. Everyone here knows, Princess Yong’an has been praying for the Emperor’s fortune, suffering plenty of hardship in the temple. His Majesty loves his sister dearly and feels he owes her much. But the palace rules are strict and he cannot openly shower her with favor. His heart aches for her…”

“How could we, as humble ministers, not strive to understand His Majesty’s heart? Never mind a single robe of silk gauze, even if there were ten robes woven with gold thread and inlaid with jade and it is still our duty to give our utmost effort! As for your worry that others might follow suit… that’s easy. His Majesty will soon issue an imperial edict: from this day forward, the shuitian silk shall be for palace use only. Any commoner daring to use it will be deemed to have offended the dragon’s countenance and execution without mercy!”

That single statement instantly crushed the hearts of all women in the land who once adored the dreamy, cloud-like shuitian silk.

Who could withstand the Grand Tutor’s fury? The ministers who had been ready to echo the Deputy Minister’s words suddenly shut their mouths, exchanging awkward glances.

In their hearts, they wondered—what’s the Grand Tutor up to now? Could it be he’s really taken the Sage’s teachings to heart, turned over a new leaf, and gone from being a sycophant to a model loyal official?

As for the unlucky Deputy Minister, after the Grand Tutor vented his anger, he noticed how fond this man was of fussing over women’s clothing.

So he granted the man his wish: stripped him of his post in the Ministry of Personnel and reassigned him to the weaving workshop to watch the looms.

After court was dismissed, Nie Qinglin shed her dragon robe and returned to Fengchu Palace.

She ordered Nanny Shan to open up the clothing trunks and lay out all the dresses and skirts she had accumulated in recent days and soon, the room was filled wall to wall.

When the Grand Tutor walked in, he nearly stepped on a skirt.

Narrowing his phoenix eyes slightly, he asked, “What’s all this about?”

Nie Qinglin, brush and paper in hand, didn’t even look up as she replied while writing, “Just now I found a palace lady who knows her fabrics well to help estimate the value of these garments. I’m sorting and categorizing them…”

The Grand Tutor’s gaze darkened.

“What, did you listen to that dog official earlier? Does Your Highness no longer want to wear such luxurious things?”

Hearing this, Nie Qinglin lifted her head and widened her eyes.

“All these gorgeous dresses; how could I bear to give them up? Of course I’ll still wear them. I just need to tone it down a little in public, so I don’t cause trouble for you again by wearing the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

Wei Lenghou looked at the little Dragon Pearl bending her head as she scribbled away, and somehow felt like something had filled his chest, yet no matter how full, it could never be enough.

Slowly, he walked over and lifted her high into the air with his iron arms.

“The woman Wei Lenghou loves should have the best the world has to offer! Why should we care what those petty men say?”

“But there’s so much… and everything comes from you alone. I’m afraid even your court salary won’t cover it…” she muttered, sneaking a glance at him.

That glance instantly fired him up.

“Is Your Highness worried this humble official will embezzle funds? Though I wasn’t born into royalty like you, just a commoner by birth, my family is quite well-off. Even without a single coin of salary, I can still afford to keep Your Majesty in silks and satins!”

As the saying goes: scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants—with merchants ranked dead last.

Merchants chase profit and have always been looked down upon.

Dragon Pearl may have been born into the highest of royalty, but who’s to say this little rascal doesn’t secretly look down on him for it?

Even Lu Buwei, whose rare goods were worth hoarding, rose to become the Chancellor of Qin and was even the foster father of King Ying Zheng.

Yet he still felt insecure about his merchant origins, and had scholars compile the Lu’s Commentary to mask the stink of money on him!

Wei Lenghou never minded his merchant roots.

Pampered since young, he grew up capable and proud, never once knowing what “inferiority complex” meant.

But now the thought that this Dragon Pearl might secretly look down on him and his chest filled with anger, and a bit of panic too.

Nie Qinglin, unaware of the Grand Tutor’s stormy thoughts, saw that he was angry and quickly softened her tone, saying, “I never meant to question your integrity! It’s just that you have so many wives and concubines at home… and with how manly and vigorous you are, none of them can be neglected. I’m merely expressing admiration for your, ah, capabilities.”

The Grand Tutor immediately understood—this little rascal was poking at that “unclean” issue again.

But who could’ve known things would come to this?

He never expected himself to fall for a woman this deeply.

If he had known, would he have taken in all those concubines in the first place, leaving himself open to this jealous little Dragon Pearl’s digs?

Back when he kicked the Fourth Madam out of the house, he’d indeed considered dismissing the rest of the concubines too.

But just the thought made him frown.

If a man casts out all his wives just because one woman gets jealous, is that still a real man? Though he adores this Dragon Pearl, he also wants her to understand the meaning of “knowing one’s place.”

He, Wei Lenghou, is not someone who lets a weak-boned woman lead him by the nose!

“What now? You just got better, and you’re back to eating this flavorless vinegar? Planning to spend another night copying the Admonishment for Women?” the Grand Tutor asked, his face a touch grim.