Chapter 29

Honestly, you can't really blame Prince An for this mess. The poor guy has zero clue how to conduct an investigation. All he's been focused on is currying favor with the Noble Consort. So, naturally, her brother just threw a bunch of names—anyone who rubbed him the wrong way—onto the list, along with a few of Prince An's political rivals. That's how the suspect list got so ridiculously long.

The Minister of Justice and the Chief Justice both saw through the nonsense, but after digging around with no solid results for so long, and with Prince An holding the reins, they weren't too worried.

As far as they were concerned, the law doesn't punish the many. Even if the victim was the Noble Consort's nephew, there was no way the Emperor would order half the court executed. They expected the Emperor to pick up the case lightly and eventually let it drop without serious consequences.

So when they got Prince An's report, the two officials tacitly agreed not to question or alter a single word—just let him submit it as is.

Now, as an emperor with a brain, looking at that ridiculous report, he wanted nothing more than to smash the document over Prince An's head. But he couldn't. No sons of his own, Prince An was the only bloodline heir left—his uncle's son, his closest kin—and likely the future heir to the throne.

This was Prince An's first big case. If the Emperor publicly embarrassed him too much, it would make things difficult for the boy to establish himself at court later, which could threaten the stability of the realm.

Thinking back to the Empress Dowager's words last night and the tears of Consort Chen resting on his chest, the Emperor felt a surge of frustration. It was because of Prince An's presence that his life as Emperor felt so suffocating.

After wrestling with his anger, he forced himself to calm down and spoke without emotion: "Continue the investigation. Don't rush to a verdict, and don't convict anyone falsely. You may withdraw."

The three left together. Prince An thought the list was way too long and planned to trim some names before resubmitting it in a few days—ideally wrapping it up before his coming-of-age ceremony. The Noble Consort would attend the ceremony, sweet-talk the Emperor a bit, and if he was in a good mood from the wine, maybe he'd declare Prince An Crown Prince on the spot.

The Minister of Justice and Chief Justice exchanged glances, sensing the Emperor's words had hidden meaning. They hurriedly cautioned Prince An, "Your Highness, hold on. It seems this case may have to be overturned and reinvestigated."

Prince An was baffled. The Emperor hadn't looked angry—just cautious. If they worried about false accusations, couldn't they just remove a few names and be done with it?

"What do you mean, sirs?" he asked.

The Minister of Justice explained, "The Emperor clearly doesn't trust this list at all. That's why he ordered a reexamination and warned against convicting anyone wrongly. He said there's no rush to close the case. In my opinion, we should take our time. Only when the Emperor urges should we conclude the investigation."

In other words: drag it out. Prince An was annoyed—this was his first official duty. How could he let it fizzle out? He was counting on scoring points with the Noble Consort.

The Chief Justice chimed in, "Minister is right. This case is too strange. Many details require reassessment. And with Prince An's ceremony approaching, there's no need to rush."

Now Prince An suspected the two officials might be deliberately blocking his success, afraid he'd gain too much favor before the ceremony. Could they be opponents of him becoming Crown Prince? The court had more enemies than he thought.

He noted down their names in his little black book, and the three parted ways unhappily.

Only two days until Prince An's coming-of-age ceremony, and Meng Wenyao kept feeding him "eye medicine" nonstop.

"Your Majesty," she told the Emperor, "the Empress Dowager said she missed seeing you crowned because she was stuck in the cold palace back then. She wants Prince An to wear the same golden crown you used at your coming-of-age ceremony to make up for her regret."

No surprise, the Emperor's face darkened. If Prince An wore his old imperial crown, what was the difference between that and officially naming him Crown Prince?

Though he'd long planned to pass the throne to Prince An, being pushed like this just soured his mood.

"Let him wear a new one," the Emperor said flatly.

Meng Wenyao pressed on, "What about the robe you wore then? The Empress Dowager wants Prince An to wear it too."

The Emperor's mind screamed: if Prince An wore his dragon robe, what's the point of a coming-of-age ceremony? Might as well just crown him now.

His expression grew darker by the second. Meng Wenyao smiled, satisfied, then picked up a slice of melon and held it up to the Emperor's lips.

"Try it, it's sweet."

Bitter times call for sweet fruit—otherwise, how could one get through the day?

The Emperor pushed her hand away. "I still have reports to review. I won't keep you company, Wenyao."

After seeing the Emperor off, Meng Wenyao happily tried on her new clothes.

"Your Highness, this goose-yellow gown suits you so well. If the Emperor wears bright yellow and you stand beside him, you'll be a perfect match."

Madam Hua smiled warmly at her lady, feeling proud as if witnessing a daughter's coming-of-age.

"Goose yellow is nice? But bright yellow pairs better with bright yellow, no?" Meng Wenyao replied, looking at herself in the mirror. The bright yellow imperial robe definitely had more presence.

"Yes, Your Highness. When you wear the Empress's ceremonial robe, you'll match the Emperor perfectly," Ru Xin added quickly.

Madam Hua hastily covered Ru Xin's mouth, scolding, "This isn't anywhere you can say anything you want—ears are everywhere."

Ru Xin stuck out her tongue in playful defiance. With her mistress so favored, wasn't becoming Empress just a matter of time?

Thinking about the upcoming banquet, Meng Wenyao gave final instructions: "Send extra guards to watch the Jiao Fang Palace. If the Second Miss appears wearing a gown similar to mine, report immediately. Also, keep a close eye on Prince An's every move."

"Your Highness, rest assured. These days, even a leaf falling in Jiao Fang Palace reaches me instantly," a maid promised confidently.

Meng Wenyao nodded, eager to see how the Noble Consort would manage to ruin Prince An, while she sat back ready to reap the benefits.

Prince An's coming-of-age ceremony was lavish and grand. The Empress Dowager praised Meng Wenyao, "Consort Chen is truly capable. Despite her youth, she handles things so efficiently."

Ladies from noble families visiting Longle Palace all nodded in agreement, vying for the Consort's favor. The Noble Consort sat quietly, as if invisible.

The ceremony was complex, with ancestral rites, offerings at the ancestral temple, and many formalities. The ladies waited in the Empress Dowager's Longle Palace until the ceremony ended, then all gathered for a banquet to mark its completion.

The six ministers of the departments each brought suitable-aged daughters. The Empress Dowager eagerly questioned them one by one, nodding approvingly here and there.

She even whispered to Meng Wenyao, "Why not let the Prince have a few more concubines? Whoever bears a son can become the primary wife."

Clearly, she was obsessed with having grandchildren—willing to skip the formalities and focus purely on producing heirs. Meng Wenyao was speechless.

"Wise as always, Your Majesty," she said, deciding to go along with it—better safe than sorry. If anything went wrong, it wouldn't be her fault.

The young ladies pulled out all the stops to catch the Empress Dowager's eye. The Minister of Personnel's daughter stood out the most. The Empress Dowager held her hand tightly, reluctant to let go.