Accidentally Having a Baby with the Future Emperor - Chapter 99

“Eldest young master, Yan Hemei just sent another letter of greeting.”

Cui Jiu’s soft voice rang as he stepped across the lantern-lit path toward the pavilion, where music still lingered in the air. Inside, Cui Xie sat with eyes closed, plucking his zither idly.

“What does it say?”

“The usual words of courtesy,” said Cui Jiu. “At the end, he laments his uselessness and blames himself deeply, saying that as a cripple, he can no longer serve the Minister of State Affairs, but is grateful for the Minister’s and the eldest young master’s mercy in allowing him to remain in the capital to recover. He vows to pray for the Minister and the eldest young master every day, despite his frail body.

“By rights, with Yan Hemei’s calculating nature, this should be the perfect time for him to seek more favor from the Minister. Yet he merely sends these polite greetings every few days, rain or shine, always humble, never mentioning his past merits or asking for any reward. It’s difficult to read his intentions.”

The zither’s music stopped abruptly.

Cui Xie opened his eyes and let out a cold laugh. “That’s precisely his cleverness. He writes under the guise of courtesy, but what he’s really doing is reminding my father not to forget the favors the Yan family once did for the Cui clan. He’s threatening us in the most polite way possible.”

Cui Jiu frowned. “If that’s true, then Yan Hemei cannot be allowed to stay.”

Cui Xie’s tone was calm and measured. “If you can think of it, then naturally he can too. Before removing him, we must first get hold of the things in his possession.”

Cui Jiu hesitated. “But the servants and physicians the Minister sent to ‘attend’ him found no clues. Could those things have been left behind in Songzhou?”

Cui Xie shook his head. “No. Those things are his talisman. He would keep them close at all times, to protect his life and his son’s…” At that, Cui Xie suddenly paused.

Cui Jiu’s expression changed in realization. “That’s it. The Minister has been watching Yan Hemei all this time, but we’ve overlooked his useless son, Yan Maocai. Shall I send men to seize and interrogate him directly?”

Cui Xie brushed his fingers lightly across the zither strings. “Even if Yan Hemei hid the items with Yan Maocai, he won’t let us get them easily. Isn’t Yan Maocai currently working in the Ministry of Revenue? First, find a way to get him promoted. Then, in my name, host a banquet to celebrate his promotion.”

“Brilliant, eldest young master. I’ll see to it tomorrow.” Cui Jiu paused and then smiled. “It’s been a long time since you played ‘Fisherman’s Song at Dusk’. It seems you’re in good spirits today. Could it be because that Xiao Rong has been expelled from the Xiao clan?”

Cui Xie said nothing, fingers still plucking at the strings. That silence told Cui Jiu he had guessed right.

“Now that Xiao Rong’s been cast out, the Xiao clan will surely fall into turmoil for a while. And without his title as heir, what power does he have left in the capital? What right does he have to compare himself with you anymore? It’s about time he learned a lesson.”

***

Xiao Rong had taken a three-day leave from the Chancellery. The next morning, after breakfast, he rode with Mo Dong to the Hibiscus Garden.

The sky was clear and blue and a gentle breeze stirred the lotus blooms across the pond into a graceful sway. Xiao Rong still wore the knee-length black veil hat, standing amid the flowers, gazing into the distance.

Mo Dong followed his gaze and saw many young scholars gathered in groups, walking toward a pavilion on a high slope nearby. “May I ask what brings the Young Prince here?”

“Call me young master,” Xiao Rong corrected coolly.

“Right, young master. What brings you here, then?”

“Today, the Prince of Wei is hosting his monthly Ten-Day Gathering here in the garden,” Xiao Rong replied, withdrawing his gaze. “He’s invited the scholars of the capital to share poetry, discuss art, and enjoy free wine and food. With such liveliness, how could I miss it?”

“The Prince of Wei?” Mo Dong frowned. “But you don’t seem to have any connection with him. And gatherings like this usually require an invitation, don’t they?”

Xiao Rong folded his arms and nodded. “That’s true. But it doesn’t matter. I have an acquaintance.”

Mo Dong was puzzled. Since when did the young master have acquaintances in the Wei Royal Residence?

***

“A friend?”

Mu Yin was busy overseeing the preparations for the Ten-Day Gathering when a servant came to report. He frowned instinctively.

“Yes, the man claims to be your old friend, saying he was invited by you to attend the gathering.”

Mu Yin’s frown deepened. He had invited no such friend.

He followed the servant to the entrance and, from a distance, saw a master and servant standing on the grass. The sight only puzzled him further, for he was certain he didn’t know anyone who looked quite so unusual.

“Young Master Mu, good morning.” While Mu Yin was still suspicious, the figure in front lifted the black veil from his hat and cupped his hands in greeting with a smile.

Mu Yin’s expression shifted slightly. “You?”

“Why not me?” said Xiao Rong. “Young Master Mu, as a good neighbor, you really have no sense of camaraderie. For such a grand event as the Ten-Day Gathering, how could you not send me an invitation?”

Mu Yin’s eyes were filled with wariness. “What exactly are you planning?”

Xiao Rong’s lips curved. “Why, to broaden my horizons, of course.”

Mu Yin was about to order his servants to drive him away when Xiao Rong added lightly, “If you won’t let me in, Young Master Mu, I’ll simply go to the Wei Royal Residence and ask His Highness personally.”

Mu Yin’s expression changed again, just as Xiao Rong expected. What he feared most was Xiao Rong appearing before the Prince of Wei with that dangerously captivating face of his. After several moments of hesitation, Mu Yin finally ordered, “Let him in.”

After all, he was the host of today’s gathering. As long as he kept a close eye on Xiao Rong, there would be no chance for him to cause trouble.

The master and servant were led up the high slope.

The hill was shaded with willows. Outside the pavilion, many scholars had already gathered. Servants from the Wei Royal Residence were setting up pavilions and tents where the guests could rest and converse. Each tent was furnished with elegant tea and refreshments.

Xiao Rong and Mo Dong found an empty one and sat down.

Mo Dong knelt behind his master, confused. Last night, Xiao Rong had stolen the account books meant for the Crown Prince and kept them for himself, yet now, as if he had forgotten the matter entirely, he’d brought Mo Dong here to attend some literary gathering.

It made no sense at all.

“Young Master Mu has arrived!”

Someone called out and all heads turned. A young man of graceful bearing and refined demeanor approached in splendid robes and ornaments. It was none other than Mu Yin, one of the Prince of Wei’s famed Four Young Masters.

As the Prince of Wei’s favored retainer and the one who regularly hosted the Ten-Day Gathering on his behalf, Mu Yin’s status was exceptional. The moment he appeared, many scholars came forward to greet him respectfully.

After exchanging pleasantries, Mu Yin announced the theme of today’s appreciation event.

“Today’s subject is ‘Winter Plum,’ the painting reproduced by the eldest son of the Cui clan, Cui Xie.”

“Winter Plum! Truly? I thought it was just a rumor!”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even those aloof scholars who had stayed apart looked up in surprise.

It was said that the Winter Plum was a masterpiece of a renowned painter from the previous dynasty, long lost to time. Within the capital, only Cui Xie’s reproductions had ever been recognized by connoisseurs who had seen the original.

Cui Xie had risen to fame young, half for his astonishing Palindrome Poem and half for his imitation of the Winter Plum. Because of that, any of Cui Xie’s Winter Plum copies were priceless treasures, impossible to buy even with a fortune.

“I heard the Cui heir produced three copies in total. Which one is this?” someone asked.

Mu Yin replied, “Upon hearing it would be displayed for the Ten-Day Gathering, Eldest Young Master Cui generously lent His Highness the Prince of Wei his latest version, the one completed two years ago.”

A new work from two years past, the height of his artistic maturity, and never before shown to the public. Excitement surged through the crowd; conversations buzzed with anticipation.

Then, the steward of the Wei Royal Residence arrived with two servants. They drew down the sheer curtains around the pavilion, then carefully took the treasured painting from its case and hung it up for all to see.

The Winter Plum painting was originally created by Ouyang Mo, a grand master of the previous dynasty. The painting depicted plum blossoms standing proud amid snow, symbolizing purity and integrity, beauty unbent by worldly gain. The artwork was entirely rendered in black ink, the contrast of light and dark alone expressing the elegance and resilience of the blossoms. Because of that simplicity, its brushwork demanded the utmost precision and control.

“It really is Cui Xie’s imitation of the Winter Plum! Look, the seal bears his personal mark! And the inscription says ‘Year 16 of Tianhe.’ That’s two years ago!”

The scholars all rose eagerly to admire the painting from outside the pavilion.

Mu Yin stood to the side and said, “This is all thanks to His Highness the Prince of Wei, who cherishes the learned and the talented. Out of his deep regard for you all, he personally visited the Cui residence to borrow this painting.”

Voices rose in praise, extolling the Prince of Wei’s virtue and his appreciation of scholars.

“It’s merely an imitation of the Winter Plum. What’s there to be so astonished about? You gentlemen are far too easily impressed.”

A clear, cool voice cut through the hum of excitement.

Everyone turned toward the sound.

Not far from the pavilion, in one of the tents, stood a tall, slender young man wearing a knee-length black veil hat. Judging by the voice, he was quite young but his tone was sharp enough to still

“Do you even know how much that imitation of the Winter Plum is worth? How dare you speak so arrogantly?” A scholar frowned and snorted coldly.

The wind lifted a corner of the gauzy veil, revealing beneath it a plain, wide robe and a glimpse of a white, jade-like hand. The young man beneath the veil said casually, “No matter how fine an imitation, it is still a counterfeit. And a counterfeit, to me, is worth nothing.”

“You—!”

At the sound of that voice, Mu Yin’s brows had already furrowed. The stewards and servants of the Wei Royal Residence looked even more displeased.

Although the Ten-Day Gathering placed no strict threshold for entry, in the past, there had been rude scholars who, having read a few books, fancied themselves critics and spoiled the mood with wild remarks, but never had anyone dared to belittle the famed imitation by Eldest Young Master Cui as worthless.

Someone sneered. “So you look down on Eldest Young Master Cui’s copy. Don’t tell me you have the original?”

The youth said mildly, “You’ve a good eye.” He took a scroll from the hands of his attendant. “I happen to have the authentic ‘Winter Plum’ painting here.”

“What?!”

The crowd erupted. Everyone knew that ever since the death of Ouyang Mo, the great painter of the previous dynasty, the original ‘Winter Plum’ had vanished without a trace. All the versions circulating today were imitations and among them, Cui Xie’s was the most renowned.

“How—how could that be possible?”

“Don’t listen to this boy’s nonsense. It’s probably another fake he picked up somewhere.”

“Exactly! If the true ‘Winter Plum’ still existed, how could it have stayed hidden for so many years, only to appear in the hands of some nameless youth?”

An old man with white hair, leaning on his cane, slowly approached. His voice trembled as he looked at the young man. “Do you truly possess the original ‘Winter Plum’?”

“Master Qi, don’t believe his lies!” several scholars urged.

Xiao Rong smiled. “Whether it’s true or not, you’ll know once you see for yourselves.” He stepped past the crowd to the front of the pavilion, turned, and unfurled the scroll.

Everyone’s eyes were fixed upon it. On the silk, amid a sweep of snowy white, black plum branches burst into bloom against the wind. The blossoms varied in shade and strength, some light, some dark, some just beginning to open. Together with the white snow, they formed a scene brimming with proud, unyielding vitality, an entire world painted in bold, free ink.

Although the imitation hanging in the pavilion depicted the same black plums and snow, when compared closely, the brushwork and use of ink were clearly different, especially in the strength and turn of each stroke.

In simpler terms, the difference in mastery was obvious.

More importantly, the seal stamped on the painting was none other than Ouyang Mo’s distinctive inked mark.

“It’s ‘Winter Plum’! The true ‘Winter Plum’!” Old Master Qi, standing at the front, was so moved that tears welled in his eyes.

Behind him, Mo Dong couldn’t quite understand. Could that plum blossom painting, one the young heir had idly kept on his desk since his teens, truly hold such power to drive this crowd into such emotion?

“Young friend,” Master Qi said, voice trembling, “might you lend me the painting for a closer look?”

Xiao Rong replied, “That’s not up to me.”

Master Qi blinked in surprise. “What do you mean? Isn’t the painting yours?”

Xiao Rong cleared his throat, expression calm. “Indeed, but today, I’m here on behalf of the Eastern Palace and His Highness the Crown Prince. If you wish to borrow the painting, you’ll need His Highness’s permission first.”

“??” Mo Dong turned to the young heir in astonishment.