Accidentally Having a Baby with the Future Emperor - Chapter 100

Everyone around was struck dumb with disbelief, staring at the mysterious youth hidden beneath the veil and the painting in his hands.

The long-lost ‘Winter Plum’ belonging to the Eastern Palace??

Impossible!

That masterpiece was painted by Ouyang Mo, a great artist of the previous dynasty. Ouyang Mo had once served in court, but when he grew disgusted by its corruption, he painted the ‘Winter Plum’ to express his resolve never to mingle with power and greed. Later, he was persecuted and forced to resign, retreating into the mountains.

Ouyang Mo was a man of pure virtue, as lofty and unsullied as snow on a high peak.

The Eastern Palace, by contrast, was notorious for its cruelty and decadence, like a den of demons. For such a noble painting to fall into their hands, it was like seeing plum blossoms sink into filth!

“How can you prove that this is the true ‘Winter Plum’ and not your own forgery?” This time, it was the steward of the Wei Royal Residence who spoke.

The Prince of Wei’s name was known far and wide for his virtue. Even if someone caused trouble, his servants couldn’t simply throw them out by force. That would tarnish his reputation for respecting scholars and possessing a magnanimous heart. Yet in this situation, the steward had no choice but to try to contain things.

“Whether it’s real or fake,” Xiao Rong said unhurriedly, “I believe this esteemed elder can tell.”

All eyes turned toward Master Qi.

Master Qi’s gaze fixed on the scroll in Xiao Rong’s hands; his eyes reddened as he nodded. “This is indeed the genuine ‘Winter Plum’. The seal was made with Ouyang Mo’s family’s special black ink. It doesn’t dissolve in water, only deepens with age, and carries a natural plum fragrance. It cannot be forged.”

“However,” he added, “young man, may I ask, how did the Crown Prince come to possess it?”

Xiao Rong smiled leisurely. “To tell the truth, this ‘Winter Plum’ was personally gifted to His Highness by Ouyang Mo’s descendants.”

“That’s impossible!” Someone immediately cried out, voice trembling with outrage. “The Eastern Palace is ruthless and bloodthirsty! How could Ouyang Mo’s descendants give such a treasure to them?”

Even Master Qi looked puzzled and doubtful.

Xiao Rong’s tone, however, remained calm and unhurried, a sharp contrast to the crowd’s agitation. “His Highness and Ouyang Mo’s descendants met and became instant friends. They saw in His Highness a character as pure and noble as this painting itself. Deeply moved, they gifted the piece to him. The Crown Prince cherishes it dearly and often uses the painting and Master Ouyang’s story to instruct and inspire those in his service. Were it not for hearing that someone here was passing off a counterfeit and profaning Master Ouyang’s legacy, His Highness would never have brought out the true painting.”

The words Crown Prince, Ouyang Mo, kindred spirits, pure of character, when strung together like that, left everyone dumbstruck. Even the servants of the Wei Royal Residence began to doubt their literacy.

“Even if the Eastern Palace truly has the original ‘Winter Plum’,” one scholar argued, “what right does a nameless nobody like you have to question Eldest Young Master Cui’s work? Everyone knows his imitation captures at least seventy percent of Ouyang Mo’s spirit. No one in the world surpasses him. Even beside the true painting, his copy is in no way inferior!”

The youth turned slightly, glancing through the veil at the imitation hanging in the pavilion. His lips curved into a faint, scornful smile. “Only seventy percent of the spirit? What’s there to boast about? In the Eastern Palace, even an ordinary court scholar could reproduce it better.”

The crowd erupted again. Such arrogance was unthinkable!

Mu Yin, who had been silently frowning, suddenly grew calm. Even the steward and servants of the Wei Royal Residence shook their heads with faint smiles.

“Young master,” the steward said, “Eldest Young Master Cui’s imitation was personally authenticated by Master Qi himself as the closest in the world to the original. Do you think a few wild boasts can deceive us?” He looked at Xiao Rong and his attendant with an expression of polite contempt.

Mo Dong shot him a cold glance. “Our young master’s painting is better than that one.”

“Oh?” The steward’s expression didn’t darken. On the contrary, he seemed rather entertained. “As it happens, we have brush and ink right here. Why doesn’t this ‘young master from the Eastern Palace’ give us a live demonstration?”

Before Xiao Rong could reply, a servant was already hurrying off to prepare paper, ink, and brushes.
It was clear that the steward was determined to make this arrogant little troublemaker from the Eastern Palace lose face in front of everyone.

The advisors of the Wei Royal Residence and several of the gathered scholars all looked on with thinly veiled glee.

“Let the brat boast all he wants. He’s about to make a fool of himself!”

“Master Chunyu! Master Zhao!”

Meanwhile, unnoticed by the crowd, a man dressed as a scholar came rushing across the garden and stopped beneath a large willow tree. Two refined-looking men were sitting there, leisurely fanning themselves in the shade.

“What’s the matter? Why such panic?” one of them asked.

The messenger clasped his hands and said urgently, “Gentlemen, the young master His Highness sent is in serious trouble!”

The two men, Chunyu Hui and Zhao Tao, stared at each other in confusion.

“What young master? What trouble?”

Neither had any idea what he was talking about.

“You mean you don’t know His Highness sent a young master to cause a bit of disturbance?” The messenger was equally shocked by their blank faces.

The three of them stood there, staring at one another in bewilderment.

When Chunyu Hui finally grasped what was happening, he was struck dumb. “That’s impossible… I’ve never once heard Sir Song mention that the Eastern Palace owns the ‘Winter Plum’!” If the Eastern Palace really possessed such a priceless treasure, they would’ve used it long ago to thoroughly humiliate the Prince of Wei and the Cui clan!

“But that young man said he came from the Eastern Palace himself,” the messenger insisted.

“Come on, we’d better see for ourselves!” The two men wasted no time and hurried toward the gathering.

When Chunyu Hui and Zhao Tao arrived, the entire pavilion had fallen into absolute silence.

Every gaze was fixed on the mysterious youth standing behind the long table, sleeves trailing, brush in hand.

Snow filled the sky in the painting he was creating, silent and boundless. The winter wind swept over bent grass and among it bloomed clusters of ink-dark plum blossoms, proud and unyielding, appearing stroke by stroke beneath the boy’s brush on paper white as frost.

No one dared breathe too loudly.

Chunyu Hui, especially, was stunned.

The youth was painting entirely from memory without so much as glancing at the original. He was reproducing every branch and petal of the Winter Plum as though it lived inside his mind. It was a sight both shocking and magnificent.

***

At that same moment, in the Cui clan’s lakeside pavilion, silk curtains drifted in the breeze while the sound of zithers flowed like water across the surface of the lake.

Cui Xie and the Prince of Wei sat inside, sipping tea. A row of musicians knelt beside them, while attendants of both the Cui estate and the Wei Royal Residence waited respectfully outside.

“If not for that meddlesome Xiao Rong,” the Prince of Wei remarked with mild regret, “the Eastern Palace would have no chance of recovery this time.

“Fortunately,” he added with a faint smile, “that same Xiao Rong can no longer stay within the Xiao clan. He’s no better than a stray dog now—”

Before he could finish, the rapid sound of footsteps echoed outside.

“Eldest Young Master Cui, Your Highness!” Cui Jiu hurried up with the Prince of Wei’s steward close behind. They stopped at the edge of the pavilion and bowed deeply.

“What is it?” asked Cui Xie.

Cui Jiu frowned. “There’s been an incident at the Ten-Day Gathering.”

At that, not only Cui Xie but the Prince of Wei also lifted his head.

The steward of the Wei Royal Residence dropped to his knees with a thud and quickly reported what had happened.

“The original ‘Winter Plum’ is in the Eastern Palace?!” The Prince of Wei shot to his feet. His gaze darkened instantly as he fixed on the steward. “What’s the situation now?”

Cold sweat streamed down the steward’s forehead. He forced himself to continue. “That mysterious man claiming to be a strategist from the Eastern Palace. He… he not only replicated the ‘Winter Plum’ on the spot, but also—”

The Prince of Wei’s voice turned sharp. “But also what?”

“He was lavishly praised by Master Qi himself. The master even said… that the copy could pass for the original and far surpassed… Eldest Young Master Cui’s version…” The steward’s voice dwindled to a mosquito’s buzz. He didn’t dare meet the Prince of Wei’s eyes, much less look toward Cui Xie sitting opposite. However, the incident had unfolded before a crowd of witnesses and was already causing an uproar among the scholars. He dared not conceal it.

The Prince of Wei’s expression shifted several times, his astonishment plain. “How could that be possible?!” He turned abruptly to Cui Xie. “How could there be another person in this world capable of replicating ‘Winter Plum’ so perfectly it could fool the eye? Has his appearance or name been found out? If such a master truly exists within the Eastern Palace, how could I not know of him?!”

It was rare for the Prince of Wei to show such agitation. His eyes snapped back to the steward.

The steward shook his head. “He covered his face with a black veil and was accompanied by a highly skilled guard. I had no chance to investigate. But judging from his voice, he’s quite young; perhaps around twenty.”

The Prince of Wei’s shock deepened. At such a young age, to reproduce the ‘Winter Plum’ so perfectly seemed impossible.

Even Cui Xie, after years of painstaking study, could only capture seven-tenths of the painting’s spirit. Yet even that seven-tenths was already beyond the reach of most scholars and painters.

Cui Xie suddenly asked, “That guard is around twenty as well, wielding a thin sword?”

The steward nodded rapidly. “Exactly! That’s the one!”

The Prince of Wei seemed to understand something. Slowly, he sat back down, turning toward Cui Xie.

Cui Xie’s eyes were dark and cold as stagnant water. “Although Ouyang Mo has long withdrawn from the world, I once heard he appeared in Qizhou and that was also where he was last seen.”

“It’s that Xiao Rong!” The Prince of Wei’s voice rang out. “Who else would act with such ostentatious flair?”

Cui Xie’s expression hardened; his tone was icy with contempt.

The steward said, “That man, before leaving, declared that the Crown Prince will host a Winter Plum Banquet in the Eastern Palace. Anyone who attends will not only see the true ‘Winter Plum’ in person, but the Crown Prince will also choose worthy scholars and gift them copies of the painting to carry on Master Ouyang’s legacy.”

In ordinary times, even lavish gold could not buy the attention of these scholars. But ‘Winter Plum’ was a treasure beyond price to them.

And now, with word spreading that even a young strategist from the Eastern Palace could replicate the masterpiece, the Eastern Palace had suddenly become a hidden sanctuary of talent and mystery in their eyes.

The Prince of Wei could not help but feel the situation growing perilous.

***

Outside the elegant pavilion, the young strategist had already departed with his guard, graceful and unhurried, leaving only the faint scent of ink behind.

Old Master Qi was still staring in stunned disbelief at the long table, where the ink on the freshly painted imitation of the ‘Winter Plum’ had yet to dry.

“The likeness… it’s uncanny…” he murmured to himself.

The scholars surrounding him had also fallen silent, gazing at the painting in open wonder.

Meanwhile, the imitation of ‘Winter Plum’ that hung within the pavilion, the one painted by Cui Xie, the eldest son of the Cui clan, had been entirely forgotten.

After a long moment, Old Master Qi suddenly seemed to recall something. Trembling, he leaned on his cane and called out loudly to those around him, “Quickly! Go—go after that young man!”

***

Chunyu Hui and Zhao Tao quietly withdrew from the crowd and made straight for the Eastern Palace.

Outside the council hall, Song Yang was fanning himself with a sigh. When he saw them return so soon, he asked, “Didn’t I tell you to keep watch on the Prince of Wei’s movements? Why are you back already?”

Chunyu Hui was still visibly stirred. “Sir Song, with such a master in the Eastern Palace, why didn’t you tell us beforehand?”

Song Yang blinked, baffled. “What master?”

Chunyu Hui froze. “Wasn’t that young gentleman sent by you?”

Song Yang was even more confused. “What young gentleman?”

Zhao Tao answered in his stead, “At the Ten-Day Gathering just now, a young man arrived with the original ‘Winter Plum’. He claimed to be from the Eastern Palace, recruiting talents on behalf of His Highness. He even reproduced the painting on the spot, so perfectly that Master Qi himself was full of praise! Everyone’s talking about it now!”

Song Yang was struck speechless.

Then, a low and cold voice sounded from within the hall. “Where is he?”

It was Xi Rong, emerging from the council chamber.

Chunyu Hui and Zhao Tao immediately bowed in respect.

From the look in his master’s storm-dark eyes, Song Yang suddenly understood.

Of course, there was only one person in the Eastern Palace capable of replicating the ‘Winter Plum’ so flawlessly from memory: the heir himself, who had been able to recall anything he read since childhood.

***

Meanwhile, Xiao Rong and Mo Dong sat in a small roadside tavern outside the Hibiscus Garden, quietly eating noodles.

Mo Dong glanced out the window. That same Old Master Qi was still wandering about with a group of scholars, searching anxiously in all directions. Then he looked back at the culprit opposite him who was calmly enjoying his noodles as if nothing had happened.

“Young master,” Mo Dong asked, “where are we going after this?”

Xiao Rong took a sip of the broth. “Nowhere. We’re waiting for someone.”

“Waiting?” This time, it was Mo Dong’s turn to be confused. “Waiting for who? Old Master Qi?”

However, the old man’s eyesight wasn’t good to begin with and he had already been led away somewhere by that group of scholars.

The Hibiscus Garden was crowded with visitors every day and the small noodle shop just outside its gates thrived on the steady stream of customers.

After finishing his bowl, Xiao Rong seemed a little drowsy. He simply rested his head on his arm at the table and soon appeared to have fallen asleep.

Mo Dong didn’t dare disturb him or ask questions. He just kept silent watch at his side.

Thus, the hours passed. By dusk, the tourists had thinned out and one by one, they began boarding carriages to leave.

The noodle shop lit its lamps.

Mo Dong began to wonder if perhaps the heir had been too exhausted earlier and said something half-dreaming, half-nonsensical.

He was still thinking this when the clatter of hooves thundered down like rolling storm clouds, shaking the lamplight into trembling ripples. A moment later, a tall figure in dark robes lifted the curtain and stepped inside. His sharp eyes swept the room and then fixed suddenly on the young gentleman slumped asleep in the corner like a boneless cat.

The shopkeeper and the diners froze. The newcomer’s clothing was exquisite, his features chiseled and severe, and the cold authority radiating from him made everyone’s breath catch.

“His Highness the Crown Prince is here. All idlers, clear out at once,” a young man in military attire entered after him, announcing the command.

The shopkeeper dropped to his knees with a thud, bowing low, while the patrons hastily fled.

Only then did the young gentleman at the corner table stir, rubbing his eyes and propping his chin in his hand. His gaze, bright and sly as a cat’s, fell on the Crown Prince whose name inspired dread across the capital. His lips curved and he drawled with a hint of lazy, nasal amusement, “Your Highness, you finally came.”

All the thousand sparks of fury Xi Rong had carried with him were extinguished the instant he heard that voice and saw those eyes.

Mo Dong, who had already laid his hand on the hilt of his sword, froze in astonishment.

So the Young Prince had been waiting for the Crown Prince?!

Outside, a dark sea of people had already knelt in reverence.

At the door stood Jiang Cheng himself, nerves taut. The look on His Highness’s face during the ride here had been enough to make his heart pound with dread. He could only pray to the heavens that the Crown Prince would not let the young heir provoke him into doing something rash in public.

“You wait outside too.” Inside the room, Xiao Rong spoke to Mo Dong.

Mo Dong hesitated, glanced at the Crown Prince’s attendants who had all remained outside, and finally obeyed, stepping out.

“Your Highness has come all this way,” Xiao Rong said, resting his chin in one hand and smiling up at him. “Won’t you at least sit down and have a cup of tea?”