“Then I’ll trouble you, hehe.”

 

Dou Qingyi’s lips curved in an almost imperceptible arc, her gaze shifted, falling once more on that inkstone.

“You have been thoughtful.”

Her expression was calm, showing no joy or anger, yet in her eyes there flickered a trace of teasing as she sized up the child standing in front of Zhao Chu.

As expected, the child’s whole body went stiff; hearing her words, he grew flustered and helpless, yet dared not move recklessly. Only his hands, clasped behind his back, fidgeted and tangled with each other in secret.

Dou Qingyi picked up the teacup on the table, concealing the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

But just as she lowered her gaze, Zhao Chu’s voice came from the front. “If there is nothing else, your son and Young Master Fang will now take our leave.”

Surprise raised Dou Qingyi’s brows, and she lifted her eyes to look at Zhao Chu.

She saw that her son had already seen through her harmless joke, his eyes fixed directly upon her, giving her no face at all.

Fine then—so protective of him, aren’t you.

Dou Qingyi admitted to herself that she was not a gentle or loving mother, and her relationship with Zhao Chu had always been flat and distant; seldom did they show each other such vivid and spirited sides.

The Fang family’s fostered child was indeed rather good.

She curved her lips again, set down the teacup, and no longer made things difficult for the boy whose shoulders were hunched with fear.

“Since it’s already late, let your friend stay in the palace tonight.” Dou Qingyi said, turning her head to instruct the eunuch beside her.

“Wu Xinghai, send someone to the Duke of Anguo’s residence with word: after tomorrow’s lessons, their young master will be returned home.”

“Yes, this servant obeys.”

The eunuch’s expression was cold yet not sinister, his features proper, his manner almost like a lifeless mannequin, as he bent in acknowledgment.

At that moment, Dou Qingyi met the little boy’s round, grape-like black eyes.

Bright and sparkling, lifted in disbelief and joy toward her—he was like a little sparrow that had been caged, suddenly seeing the cage door swung open.

No wonder her son viewed this child with different eyes. Even she could not help but find him honest and charming, rare in this world.

This time, Dou Qingyi could not hide the faint smile on her face.

“If you lack anything, just tell Zhao Chu. Treat this as your own home; there’s no need for constraint.” She, unusually, added a few more words.

The little boy’s cheeks flushed red with happiness.

“Yes! I will faithfully follow Your Majesty’s command!” he said, then, embarrassed, blinked and pointed to the inkstone on Dou Qingyi’s desk.

“Your Majesty, this inkstone is excellent—it looks flat, yet it lets the ink flow smoothly and stores it naturally!”

Indeed, he was like a small creature long restrained, now freed, unable to stop chirping out a few words.

Dou Qingyi nodded at him patiently. “Very well,” she said. “We have heard.”

Resting her head lazily upon her hand, she watched Zhao Chu turn around, waiting until the boy saluted and took his leave before following step by step after him.

She also saw that the moment the boy stepped past the hall doors, he could not wait to tug at Zhao Chu’s sleeve. Faintly, she heard him speaking, seemingly praising her as gentle and loving—so very different from what he had imagined.

Dou Qingyi lowered her eyes with a faint smile.

Already an attendant came forward, both hands lifting the plain, rough inkstone from the desk. “Your Majesty, shall this servant put it away for you?”

Dou Qingyi lowered her eyes.

The grand dragon desk, crafted from precious golden-thread nanmu(NT: valuable type of wood) , gleamed even beneath the brocade-lined memorials woven with gold threads—yet amidst all this opulence, the plain black inkstone seemed completely out of place.

But Dou Qingyi raised her hand, pointing instead to the priceless She inkstone offered by the prefect of Huizhou, which sat on the corner of the desk.

(NT: She stone (歙石, Shí Shí) is a high-quality, rare stone quarried in Shexian, Anhui Province.)

“Take that one away,” she said.

“This…” The attendant was baffled.

Could it be that Her Majesty truly intended to use this coarse thing upon her desk?

Yet they saw the sovereign, rarely, reveal a smile as she said: “Did you not hear what Young Master Fang said? The inkstone he gave works wonderfully.”

*

After that, all the children of the Wenhua Hall knew: the Duke of Anguo’s second son had gained the Fifth Highness’s favor, and even the extraordinary honor of lodging in the palace.

What kind of glory was that? No wonder Duke Anguo had not opposed his second son’s entry into Wenhua Hall. Surely he was indeed one of those who, though silent, possessed great ability—at so young an age already bringing honor to his family.

For a time, even the overbearing Third Prince Zhao Jin, passing by Wenhua Hall, overheard the news.

“He even took Zhao Chu to Rongchang Street to see the flower market?” After hearing the whole story, he inevitably revealed a trace of jealousy, glaring at the surrounding study companions.

“Other people’s study companions all know how to pick fun places to take the prince to play. How come you are just a bunch of wooden heads?”

These people naturally did not dare to rashly take a prince out of the palace, so they had no choice but to one after another claim that the flower market was nothing worth seeing.

But Zhao Jin still muttered, “Even my mother-consort didn’t tell me the flower market was interesting. Now that I’ve missed it, if I want to see it I’ll have to wait another year.”

The aristocratic youths gathered around immediately flattered him, saying that when Dragon Boat Festival came, the festivities outside the palace would be even better.

Hearing this, Zhao Jin straightened his back at once and ordered them to secure for him the best viewing spot outside the palace.

After all, now that the former empress (NT: 皇后, huánghòu– literally “imperial wife) had become the reigning emperor (NT: 皇上, huángshàng) – literally “august above,” the reigning emperor), although his mother-consort still had a close relationship with the empress, he himself was no longer the emperor’s own bloodline.

(NT: I have used ‘empress’ in the text as in English we don’t have different words to differentiate between empress aka imperial wife and reigning female emperor)

Instead, he had fallen into a carefree and unrestrained state, not needing, as when his father was alive, to rack his brains over studying and currying favor. At such a young age he could simply live as a wealthy idle person.

As for these rumors, Fang Linyuan did not listen to a single word.

After all, Zhao Chu was right beside him; no matter how strong the wind (NT: ie. the trouble or gossip), it could not blow over to him here.

Thus, he could single-mindedly reminisce about the absolute delicacies made that morning in Zhao Chu’s palace quarters by Wang Gonggong, the chief of the imperial kitchens, which had filled his stomach so much that now, under the sun, he was dozing off.

“Fortunately I don’t live in the palace,” Fang Linyuan sighed. “If I stayed here a few more days, I fear I would become a fat man, and when my father and elder brother returned to the capital, they wouldn’t even recognize me.”

As he sighed, he did not notice Zhao Chu beside him turn his head, his gaze fixed on him.

“Do you like it very much?” Zhao Chu asked.

Fang Linyuan nodded vigorously.

Then he heard Zhao Chu give a soft laugh. “Wang Gonggong is making steamed fish at noon—do you also like that?” he asked.

Fang Linyuan shook his head and answered honestly. “I prefer braised fish,” he remarked. “Steamed fish always feels like it’s lacking flavor.”

Unexpectedly, just as he finished speaking, Zhao Chu turned his head to instruct the palace maid beside him: “Tell the imperial kitchens to change the noon steamed fish into braised fish, and make more of it.”

“Eh?” Fang Linyuan was stunned, and quickly waved his hands. “No need, you should eat whatever you’re meant to eat…”

“You’re not dining in the palace at noon?” Zhao Chu asked him.

Meeting each other’s eyes, Fang Linyuan lost his nerve, fell silent, then after a moment his throat moved as he swallowed once.

“…Can I?” he asked.

Zhao Chu gave him a nod: “When food that is cooked can be enjoyed, Wang Gonggong will be very happy.”

He did not say that the fish was a tribute from Jiangnan, transported thousands of li, carefully kept alive in large tanks along the way, all so that when they arrived at the palace they would still retain their firm and sweet original flavor.

To cover it with thick oils and heavy sauces would be nothing short of wasting heavenly treasures recklessly, and Wang Gonggong would surely feel pained.

But in the palace, no one would go against the Fifth Prince’s orders, and Fang Linyuan could not reject Zhao Chu’s invitation.

Thus, after a brief exchange of looks, he once again weakly nodded.

“Then—then I’ll trouble you, hehe.”

 

Translator : DarNan