Chapter 137 – Parental Favoritism

Though the early spring chill still crept into one's bones, the Nánxūn Palace—where the Emperor rested after court—was already so warm that the camellias in the garden had bloomed ahead of season. Reclining against a brocade pillow, the Emperor listened to the music drifting from behind the screen, his eyes half closed in repose. At his feet, Prince Wei, Li Chen, knelt in quiet concentration, administering acupuncture.

Yīnlíng Spring to strengthen the spleen and relieve fluid retention, soothe knee pain. Fēngshì to dispel wind and dampness, to invigorate sinews and meridians. His focus was devout, akin to a monk in silent prayer—completely undistracted.

The palace doors opened with a soft creak, and the Empress entered with her attendants. The music paused. The Emperor lifted his eyes and remarked gently, "The weather is still cold—what brings the Empress here today?"

Li Chen rose to his feet and bowed. The Empress gave a small nod, and a maidservant stepped forward, presenting a red-clothed ceremonial ledger to Gao Fu, the chief eunuch. Gao Fu accepted it and passed it to the Emperor.

"The wedding gift list for Prince Chu is ready," the Empress said with a mild smile. "I feared I might have overlooked something, so I've come to ask Your Majesty to take a look."

"There has never been a time the Empress has done anything with less than perfection," the Emperor replied, accepting the list. After a cursory glance, he suddenly straightened and asked, "Did the Empress take a pair of the dragon-phoenix candles from my private treasury?"

These ceremonial candles came in pairs: one carved with a coiled dragon chasing a pearl, the other a phoenix flying through peonies. The majestic beasts encircled the thick wax, their forms painted in vibrant hues to near-lifelike realism. Enhanced with tallow from tallow tree seeds for elasticity, the candles could burn for three days without extinguishing—lit on the wedding night, they symbolized union and harmony.

Such candles were not rare in themselves, but the pair from the Emperor's private collection bore special significance.

The Empress seated herself gracefully beside the couch, her manner composed, her smile demure. "I knew well," she said, "that the pair was hand-crafted by the late Grand Preceptor before Prince Jin's wedding, and that Your Majesty painted the dragon's scales with your own hand. Two pairs were made—one used, one kept in treasured reserve. But when I examined the Ministry's offerings today, none seemed as fine. Your Majesty once said that true cherishing is in usage, not hoarding. Rather than let the candles gather dust, I thought to light them now—for Prince Chu has been away since childhood, and we both feel we owe him. Let this be a gesture of comfort and goodwill."

The Emperor's astonishment gradually faded under her composed reasoning. He patted the back of her hand and murmured, "The Empress is clearly partial—when Jing'er married, these candles weren't brought out. Nor for Chen'er either."

He glanced toward Li Chen, as if to amend his words. "You were overlooked too."

The sudden mention made Li Chen's smile falter, stiff at the corners. Of course he knew—though the Empress was his official mother, her heart truly lay with the two sons she bore herself. There had never been a place for him.

The Empress, however, showed not the slightest discomfort. She turned to Li Chen with a poised smile. "With Lady Lu assisting me, your wedding was more lavish than even Prince Jin's."

Li Chen's mother, Lady Lu, descended from the line of Duke Xi of Lu from the Spring and Autumn era. With such powerful maternal kin, his wedding had indeed been grand.

Li Chen bowed again with respectful modesty. "Your Majesties have shown me boundless grace. This son is deeply humbled."

"What is there to be humbled about?" the Empress praised. "Prince Wei is far more filial than the others."

And having spoken of Li Chen, she turned to Li Jing. "And Zhao Wang—how often have I favored that child over the years? I've indulged him into ruin. No discipline, no study, always dashing about. I heard he went to Prince Jin's residence today. Not long after, Prince Jin was injured. With spring's dampness, wounds fester easily—I've just sent the imperial physician to examine him."

After such a long preamble, this was the true subject she wished to raise: her son had been hurt.

She said nothing of Ye Jiao or Li Ce, but the Emperor would surely inquire. Once he knew the details, he would act to redress the injustice. The Empress would not allow her son to be harmed without consequence.

Li Chen was satisfied. As expected, after the incident at the Circular Mound, Li Zhang and Li Ce would soon fall out publicly.

"Injured?" the Emperor looked to Gao Fu. The eunuch retreated a few steps and quickly left the hall. Watching him go, the Emperor turned to Li Chen, who had only just arrived. "Have you heard anything?"

Li Chen hesitated for a beat, then replied, "I have heard it's merely a superficial wound. I beg Father and Mother not to worry."

The words emphasized that the injury was minor—but also confirmed it had indeed happened.

The Emperor's expression darkened, pensive. Then he murmured, "Li Jing would never strike his second brother—it must have been someone else."

Even as he spoke, Gao Fu returned and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, it was Prince Jin sparring with Marquis Ye Jiao. He accidentally injured himself. Prince Zhao and Prince Chu were both present and have apologized."

This was the version Prince Jin had spread: he would rather be mocked for losing to a woman than expose whatever truly transpired.

But was it truly a simple sparring match? Was it not vengeance from Ye Jiao over the wooden pavilion incident? Or worse—did he covet his brother's fiancée, attempt to draw close, and end up wounded?

Whispers are cruel. Let a man and woman be seen together once, and rumors breed like wildfire.

"That foolish child!" the Empress exclaimed with anger. "He may have served in the army, but he has never truly trained in combat—what sparring could he possibly do?"

The royal sons all practiced archery and basic combat arts as part of the gentleman's Six Arts, but those skills meant nothing before the true martial prowess of a general's bloodline like Ye Jiao's.

The Emperor tapped the edge of the couch in a slow rhythm, deep in thought. After a while, he said softly, "The Empress does not understand. Nor do I."

Li Chen seized the moment. "I beg Your Majesties not to blame my second brother. If clarification is needed, summon Marquis Ye—let him explain, and leave it at that."

He did not suggest summoning Li Zhang. He named Ye Jiao. In moments like these, to give someone the chance to speak was to hand them a sword.

The Emperor did not hesitate. He raised a hand. "Summon Ye Jiao."

It had been a long time since they'd met—an entire new year had passed. He wondered... had she gained weight?

Was this how she would begin the new year—embroiled in trouble?

A rare softness flickered through the Emperor's contemplative gaze.

The Empress bit back what she wished to say, suppressing the unease that rose within. Her glance, seemingly accidental, slid toward Li Chen.

He stood by the brazier, the firelight flickering over his stone-blue robe embroidered with a golden four-clawed dragon. The mythical beast shimmered with life—vivid enough to inspire awe, perhaps even fear.

Before leaving Prince Zhao's residence, Li Ce had warned Ye Jiao repeatedly.

"Prince Jin says you were sparring and he injured himself—just go along with that. Don't bring up the Circular Mound, or anything else."

"I heard Prince Wei is in the palace too. If you cross paths, avoid him."

"The Emperor hasn't summoned either of us. We mustn't appear without cause. If you—"

"Alright!" Ye Jiao interrupted, grabbing a meat bun and stuffing it in her mouth. She nodded, voice muffled, "I get it. I'll follow Prince Jin's version. I'll steer clear of Prince Wei. Don't worry, I won't stir up trouble."

As she spoke, she accepted the chicken soup Li Ce handed her, gulping down several mouthfuls before rubbing her hands together. "Good—strength restored!"

Li Ce grew nervous. "Don't go hitting people inside the palace," he warned. "The guards are everywhere—anything you do, the Emperor will hear of it."

"Alright."

Ye Jiao leaned in, planting a greasy kiss on Li Ce's cheek. "I'm off. The deputy commander's come to escort me—must be something serious."

Li Ce immediately set down the soup and fetched her cloak. "I'll walk you to the palace gate."

Yan Congzheng, her betrothed, would deliver her himself. Because of Li Ce, he hadn't had the chance to speak with her until they reached the palace.

"Don't be afraid," he said, walking beside her at a respectful distance. His steps were steady, voice calm. "Beyond the palace, you have him. Within, you have me."

Ye Jiao nodded, admiring the palace scenery. Her voice was clear as she answered, "I promised Prince Chu, I won't cause him any trouble..."