Chapter Five

The high sun poured its brilliance down upon the majestic and solemn residence of the Prince, where smoke curled around the flying eaves and fragrant mists wreathed the ornate towers. The copper-studded cinnabar gates stood wide open, their bronze beast knockers gleaming.

Servants and guards stood in rigid formation. Jiang Sihai stood at the foot of the stairs, hands tucked into his sleeves, his sharp, beady eyes fixed on the distance. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead under the glare of the sun.

Jiang Hubao, standing behind him, glanced left and right before whispering, "Master, shall we head up first? It is not as hot beneath the eaves. We will have plenty of time to come back down once we spot the procession."

Jiang Sihai shot him a sidelong glance, his brows already knit in a frown. His voice was thin and sharp. "You useless, thick-headed fool! How long have I been teaching you, and you are still like this? It is not easy for His Highness to return from outside the city. If we do not seize this opportunity to show our faces before our master, and our laziness happens to displease him, he might abandon us entirely. What would become of us then? Do not talk about standing down here; even if we had to kneel the entire time, it would be our duty!"

Jiang Hubao shrank his shoulders in terror, though his restless eyes continued to dart about.

Seeing this, Jiang Sihai grew even more incensed, wishing he could use his fly-whisk as a whip to lash some sense into the good-for-nothing boy. He lacked any sense of the gravity of the current situation.

It was true that Jiang Sihai was the head eunuch of this Prince of Jin’s mansion in the capital. He had entered the household during the reign of the previous Emperor and served the old Prince and Princess for a time, making him the most senior and respected figure in the residence. But that was in the past. When the old Prince and Princess took their only son to their fiefdom in accordance with imperial decree, this capital residence had sat empty for years. He had been the master of an empty house.

Now, the heir to the title had returned to the capital by decree. This master had been raised in the Northwest; the servants in the capital had never served him, let alone built any rapport. Last month, when the young Prince arrived, he stayed for only three days before departing for the military camp on the outskirts, only returning today. By all accounts, they had been graced with the presence of their new master for a total of three days.

Having come from the palace, Jiang Sihai was a wily old fox. Three days was not a long time, and he could not fathom the new master's temperament or preferences. He had to rely on his memories of the old Prince, acting with constant, trembling caution. The heavens had changed, yet they had no idea what color they were—whether they would bring wind or rain, or if the lightning would strike them dead.

With the vassal princes gathered in the imperial city, their Prince was the youngest by order of the jade genealogy, but he held military power and was in his prime, possessing a tactical brilliance that far outstripped the likes of the older Prince of Kang or Prince Gong. The household staff dared not speak of it, but who in their heart did not hope to follow a dragon to the heavens and secure a bright future? He was the steward of the mansion, the closest to the young Prince. If he played his cards right and heaven favored him, he might one day become the Chief Eunuch beside the Dragon Throne. With such thoughts, winning the master’s favor was paramount, and to do that, one had to demonstrate loyalty.

As he was deep in these machinations, the idiot foster son behind him was tugging at his trousers, driving him to distraction.

Seeing his master’s stern and angry expression, Jiang Hubao quickly leaned in. "Master... Father! Do not be angry. I am only worried about your health. You have been busy with renovations for days without proper sleep, and now you have stood in this heat for so long. What if you fall ill?"

Though he knew the boy was practiced in honeyed words, Jiang Sihai’s expression softened slightly upon hearing the word "Father." He had entered the palace as a child and lost his family; Jiang Hubao was his adopted son, raised by his side since he was young. For men like them, who had no roots, they had long ago given up on heirs, only seeking someone to tend to them in their final days. Jiang Hubao was clever and smooth, but he possessed the flaw of relying on petty tricks and taking shortcuts.

They were servants of the imperial family; to the nobles above, minor tricks might be overlooked if the master was in a good mood, but if they crossed a line, their lives would be forfeit.

"I will tell you one more time: stop trying to take useless shortcuts," Jiang Sihai whispered, his voice as low as possible. "This master is not easy to serve, and he cannot be fooled. Keep your head clear and your feet planted firmly on the ground. Show as much loyalty as you can—do you hear me?"

Jiang Hubao nodded frantically. "Yes, yes! Father, I will listen to every word you say."

Jiang Sihai exhaled in frustration and shifted the topic. "How did those tasks I gave you go?"

Jiang Hubao replied, "All done. There are only a few side courtyards that have been vacant for years; they need fresh ornaments. I have sent people to the markets in the capital to procure them, though it will take some time."

"Very well, then..." Just as he was about to speak, his ears twitched. His eyes sharpened, and he stood at rigid attention, gazing into the distance. Behind him, Jiang Hubao trembled and immediately straightened his posture.

A distant rumble grew clearer as the sun shifted. The moment the vanguard cavalry appeared in his field of vision, the very earth seemed to tremble.

"The Prince returns—" The thundering of hooves and the high-pitched signal of the advance guard arrived simultaneously.

Dust swirled as the guards dispersed, and a black steed took the lead. Jiang Sihai’s eyes locked onto the rider’s face. His nerves tightened, and he dropped to his knees, bowing low. "Welcome back to the residence, Your Highness—"

Hundreds of servants behind him followed suit, kneeling and chanting in unison.

Zong Lin pulled the reins, halting the horse directly in front of the gates. The black stallion snorted, tossing its head as it came to a stop. Zong Lin glanced down at the sea of bowing servants, his gaze settling on Jiang Sihai. Seeing the sweat-soaked collars of Jiang Sihai and Jiang Hubao, he wore an expression that was neither quite a smile nor a frown.

"You are diligent," he remarked, his voice light and cold.

Maintaining his prostrate position, Jiang Sihai raised his voice with absolute reverence. "Your Highness has been patrolling the camps, laboring for the state, and has now returned in triumph. We servants are overjoyed and moved beyond words. Today, we finally—"

"Too much prattle. Your sycophancy is grating. I should have you whipped twenty times," Zong Lin interrupted, dismounting with fluid grace and striding toward the gate, his voice devoid of emotion. "Consider it a mercy for waiting so long in the heat. Let this be the last time."

"Everyone, rise." With his riding crop in hand and his vermilion princely robes fluttering, he stepped across the threshold. His Northwest guards followed him in grim, measured steps.

Hearing their master’s reprieve, the servants scrambled to their feet. Jiang Sihai, his body stiff, didn't even have time to wipe away the cold sweat. He frantically waved for the servants to return to their duties and ordered Jiang Hubao to see to the horses. Only then did he scramble into the mansion, running all the way to the main courtyard.

Arriving at the study, he stood outside the open door, bowing slightly, not daring to enter unbidden.

"Your Highness," he said, more respectful than ever, "I have an urgent matter to report."

"Enter." The voice that answered was a strange, gruff tone.

Jiang Sihai stepped quickly into the study. Behind a desk of golden sandalwood, his master sat with one hand supporting his temple, his eyes cold. The captain of his personal guard, He Cheng, stood silently to the side.

Swallowing hard, Jiang Sihai quickly discarded his planned report on the renovations and spoke instead: "Reporting to Your Highness, during your absence from the capital, many households sent visiting cards. I declined them all according to your previous orders. However, several of these cards... were from the Mansion of the Marquis of Wen'an."

He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Furthermore, this morning, another letter arrived. The messenger said the Marquis of Wen'an regrets failing to fulfill the duties of a maternal uncle to Your Highness and wishes to make amends. He also mentioned that the former residence of the late Grand Consort has been perfectly preserved all these years, and he wonders if... if you might be willing to visit the Marquis's mansion for a conversation."

Jiang Sihai bowed his head low, not daring to look at the reaction of his master. He knew this was an unpleasant matter, but he had to report it, for the Marquis of Wen'an was the Prince’s maternal grandfather—the family of the late Princess. Yet, after her untimely death, the old Prince had developed a profound, bone-deep hatred for the Marquis’s family. If the old Prince had not been far away in the Northwest, the Marquis’s family would never have known peace for these past ten years.

The current young Prince had been raised by his father, and they shared a deep bond; no one knew if he harbored the same poisonous hatred for the Marquis’s family. Now that the princes were gathering in the capital and the throne hung in the balance, the Marquis’s family was clearly terrified, throwing stones to test the waters.

Silence hung in the room. Jiang Sihai lowered his head further, hearing only the sound of long fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk. Each tap made the hearts of the two men in the room jump.

When Jiang Sihai had mentioned the "Marquis of Wen'an," He Cheng’s expression had turned dark. The name was a taboo in the Northwest residence. If not for the treachery of the Marquis’s family back then, the late Princess would not have... Now, this damned Marquis dared to use the late lady’s former residence as a bargaining chip! It was suicidal. Furthermore, if he remembered correctly, the Marquis had four daughters of marriageable age. Given the history of the Yun family, they would surely try to insinuate themselves into the Prince’s private life.

After a long silence, a deep voice fell from behind the desk.

"Very well."

Jiang Sihai and He Cheng looked up sharply.

Zong Lin’s eyes were deep and predatory as he smiled faintly. "Tell Yun Zheng that when we go for the hunt at the imperial palace, I will give him this opportunity to reminisce."

...

Jiang Sihai received the order and withdrew, the study doors closing tightly.

He Cheng stepped forward and offered a secret letter, sealed in gold and copper, from his sleeve with both hands. "Your Highness, the Prince of Kang has begun to act. The Prince of Chen is secretly engaging with several military households, and the Prince of Qi is in close contact with the scholarly families. However, the Prince of Gong remains silent."

These brief words summarized the movements of the princes vying for the throne, all now under their master’s surveillance.

Zong Lin took the letter and lowered his eyes. "He is a turtle in a ditch; of course he will hide as long as he can. Continue to monitor his movements. There will come a time when he pokes his head out."

"Yes."