The Prince Chu’s Residence and the Prince Jin’s Residence stood on opposite ends of the same street. Though there were several households between them, since Prince Chu had a few spies in the Prince Jin’s Residence, and because the steward from Princess Minhe’s Residence didn’t bother to keep it a secret while delivering his message, Prince Chu—who had returned home with a pounding headache—received news of Lady Yang’s “total disaster” without delay.
The steward from Princess Minhe’s Residence picked up a snippet before setting out: Lady Yang’s injuries weren’t too severe, but her face might be marred. When he met Prince Jin, he relayed this information as well.
Prince Jin hastily led his men to the Princess’s Residence. As for Prince Chu, within his own home, it took a long moment before he could gather himself.
He was all too aware that what he’d felt earlier had been a sense of betrayal, which had made him so furious he’d wanted to teach Lady Yang a lesson.
Yet after regaining his senses, he felt bewildered by his own actions. He hadn’t even known Lady Yang beforehand, but his instincts screamed that she carried the phoenix’s destiny and was a prize he had to attain. He could recall the sensation even now: an indescribable force surging from deep within him, followed by a headache so raw that he nearly fell from his horse, while Lady Yang, startled by her runaway horse, had tumbled and perhaps now bore a scar on her face…
Part of him knew he shouldn’t have lashed out so aggressively. Still, in equal measure, he truly felt that he might really be… the Heaven’s Chosen, the one marked by fate. It was unintentional that Lady Yang got caught in the crossfire, but through this incident he realized he had special powers. Yet even as the Son of Fate, things wouldn’t simply fall into his lap if he lay around doing nothing.
He brimmed with confidence and began planning: Perhaps Lady Yang’s coldness was because she held a torch for his Fifth Brother; if Fifth Brother was no more, and Lady Yang became a widow… As he calculated, he realized the Emperor was still in the prime of life, and his brothers were all around twenty. If one calamity followed another in quick succession with only him left unscathed, everyone would know it was his doing.
So, he had best keep away from the Capital for now. Maybe he should volunteer to lead the disaster relief mission?
No sooner had this idea surfaced than the agony in his head stabbed again. The last thought before he blacked out was: Directing natural disasters is just too draining—I can’t handle it!
Meanwhile, Prince Jin charged headlong to the Princess’s Residence, ignoring both his aunt and uncle upon arrival, and made for Lady Yang’s guest room.
Before Prince Jin arrived, Lady Yang had already looked at herself in the mirror and discovered her wound was hidden beneath her hair. Even if it left a scar, her beauty would be unaffected. Yet in front of Prince Jin, she had to appear aggrieved. With a troubled expression, she took Prince Jin’s hand and sighed, “There’s a constant stream of carriages at the Princess’s Residence, and the road outside is flat and safe. How did I end up—being thrown off a frightened horse?”
The coachman had only broken his arm; his wits, however, were intact. He’d adamantly stated that no one had been in front of the carriage—he had no idea what had spooked the horses…
Who would harm the woman he loved?
Prince Jin’s first thought was revenge from his mother’s clan. He knew all too well how Grandmother coddled his youngest uncle, how she was unreasonable and always resorted to “filial piety” to pressure his mother and uncles, demanding that his mother save his youngest uncle at any cost. Even after the main villain was executed, she still insisted the Yang clan’s descendants be banned from the imperial exams for three generations.
Lady Yang could read Prince Jin’s expression at a glance: he’d got the wrong idea.
The truth was, Consort De’s younger brother and the Yang clan only put on airs in their own province, and her own mother, with the support of her own childhood sweetheart, had led a peaceful life in the Capital for years.
She quickly explained, “The coachman and most of my attendants come from the Inner Court. I had my accident right at the Princess’s Residence gate—it would be impossible for my uncle or the Yang clan to orchestrate an ‘accident’ without a trace. It’s not that I overestimate myself, but neither the Prince’s uncle nor the Yang clan could do such a thing. If they could, would I have survived till today?”
Her reasoning was sound. Prince Jin frowned thoughtfully. “Then who wanted to harm you?”
Lady Yang shook her head. “I can’t tell you.”
She was clearly harboring a secret she could not share… Prince Jin grew anxious. “How could I not stand up for you? What if this is all because you’re close to me? If they would go so far as to frighten a horse, they clearly want you dead!”
Lady Yang met his gaze. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided to take the gamble. She drew Prince Jin close, leaned in, and whispered, “I believe it was Prince Chu…”
Prince Jin blurted out, “He… What does he want?”
Lady Yang pointed at herself. “He wants me.”
Indeed, Prince Jin was very much a man in love, but not to the extent of losing all reason whenever Lady Yang was involved. “And why would he?”
Truth be told, Lady Yang felt a bit relieved by Prince Jin’s reaction. Given the choice, she would always prefer a husband who loved and trusted her, but whose intelligence was intact. “He believes I have the phoenix’s destiny.”
As the female lead, she did indeed bear the phoenix’s destiny; in the plot, after Prince Chu’s ascension, he had personally told her as much.
Prince Jin was stunned. “Is that true?”
Lady Yang gave a wry smile. “I don’t believe it, but he does…” She leaned in even closer to Prince Jin and delivered her trump card. “I’m someone who… has died once.”
This time, Prince Jin didn’t just look shocked—he was utterly baffled.
Lady Yang picked out the main storyline and shared it with Prince Jin. In order to persuade him, she even warned him that by year’s end a heavy snow would be followed by an earthquake. Although the quake itself would not be severe, paired with the blizzard, many would die—despite the Emperor’s prompt disaster relief efforts.
Prince Jin’s expression grew grave. His beloved never spoke without reason, and since less than a month remained before the end of the year, he’d soon see for himself whether her warning was true.
He gently pulled her into his arms. “I believe you… But I wish I didn’t.” That his own Tenth Brother would resort to killing him in order to marry the woman he loved was a heavy blow.
Lady Yang leaned into his embrace, forcing a smile. “If you say so, I know I chose the right person to trust.”
If what she said was true, and since she refused even the Empress’s seat for his sake… Prince Jin had always believed in his own judgment, and in this moment he felt deeply comforted. “I won’t betray you, and you mustn’t betray me.”
A genuine smile spread over Lady Yang’s face. “Mm.”
Meanwhile, Qin Jingzhou and Ling Jing were sitting side by side in the main house, quietly listening to the commotion from the guest quarters.
Hearing Lady Yang choose partial honesty with Prince Jin, Ling Jing shook her head. “Prince Chu tried to teach Lady Yang a lesson, but only pushed her completely to Prince Jin’s side. Now he’ll likely start gathering his forces to wipe out all threats. The heavy snow followed by the earthquake at the end of the year is a prime opportunity for him—I just wonder who his target will be…” She then laughed. “Surely it will be Prince Jin. If Prince Jin dies, Lady Yang will become an immediate widow, giving him his opening.”
Qin Jingzhou laughed as well. “When the time comes, we’ll begin our fire-fighting operation for real.”
But before they could enter “disaster relief mode,” Qin Jingzhou intended to marry Ling Jing properly here in this world.
Since this was a second marriage for both, their wedding was not as grand as the first time. Even so, all the notable names in the Capital showed up. When Qin Jingzhou carried Ling Jing on his back into the Princess’s Residence, even Emperor Taihe himself made an appearance.
The banquet was truly a gathering of distinguished guests. Marquis Wu'an was plagued by mixed feelings, regretting his decision to cast aside his third son. For this wedding, the third son had only invited Old Madam and their father—no mention at all of the wife still shut away in the Small Prayer Room, nor of any other siblings or children.
So much so that the eldest son and eldest daughter each came to ask the Marquis why Third Brother was so small-minded.
He couldn’t even be bothered to deal with the two children left by his principal wife, but he could at least understand Third Son’s attitude: he might not seek revenge on his brothers and sisters, but his intentions to cut ties were abundantly clear.
After much thought, he still couldn’t summon the will to pass the title to the third son… Without the Marquisate, his beloved sons and daughters would be hard-pressed to carry on! No matter what, he must hang on for a few more years, raise a grandson capable enough to inherit the title while skipping the sons altogether. Then he could die in peace.
While Marquis Wu’an was preoccupied with securing his offspring’s future, his troublesome children used the nanny that Marquis’s Consort had left at Er Yao’s side to get in touch with Er Yao the very next day.
Although the Marquis’s eldest son and daughter were no geniuses, when they heard that the Emperor had personally attended the third brother’s wedding—even if it was only out of regard for Princess Minhe, it was clear that their third brother was not who he used to be. In other words, they’d best make peace with Third Brother now. Simply relying on the Marquis to keep Third Brother down would no longer suffice.
Er Yao was happily busy at the Princess’s Residence. She spent mornings copying books and practicing calligraphy, and afternoons solving problems—so busy she hardly had time to think of anything else.
When she took the letter from the nanny, she tossed it into the brazier without a glance.
Er Yao really did resent both her father and older brother, especially since they’d both called her “stupid.”
She would not accept it. She had to prove that she was not stupid, only that her father and brother were blind. After all, how could she accept a life of obscurity when she’d been lucky enough to live again? But there was no way she would ally herself with the eldest uncle and aunt who, in her past life, had harmed her grandmother, her parents, and her brother.
She watched the letter curl to ash in the flames, then looked at the shaken nanny. “You’d best be clear who your master is. No matter how little my father cares for me, killing off a nanny is hardly out of his reach.”
The nanny dropped to her knees in fright and began kowtowing, begging for mercy.
Er Yao snorted coldly. As she worked on her exercises, her mind spun: How could she get in touch with Prince Chu? Her brother refused to deliver the letter… She glanced at the nanny who still hadn’t dared to get up and thought, Maybe I should give this route a try.
A few days after Qin Jingzhou and Ling Jing’s wedding, the Capital saw a relentless fall of snow. It was genuine heavy snow, the kind with large flakes but light accumulation, yet… it did not stop.
After three consecutive days of intermittent but persistent snowfall, several old houses had collapsed under the weight.
Emperor Taihe was an above-average ruler who had long prepared for such natural disasters.
The affected commoners were quickly relocated to several temples and Daoist temples across the Capital. The Ministry of Revenue took the lead in setting up porridge stations, and the aristocratic families followed suit, not only building their own porridge stations but also handing out free firewood bundles to those in need. So, although the snow disaster came unexpectedly, there was no loss of life.
Then, the earthquake struck.
This time, the earthquake wasn’t severe. Qin Jingzhou estimated it at magnitude five at most. Because the snow disaster came first, people’s homes and dwellings suffered varying degrees of cracks, but the “mansions” of the rich were unscathed.
Thus, half of the Prince Jin’s Residence’s main house collapsed, pinning the still-sleeping Prince Jin firmly beneath the rubble. Upon hearing this, Ling Jing burst out laughing. “Heaven’s Chosen, so straightforward.”
Qin Jingzhou stood up with a smile. “Time for us to go.”
Ling Jing rose too. “If we don’t make an appearance, even if Prince Jin is rescued, he’ll be half-dead. If he ends up crippled and loses any hope of inheriting, how could he ever challenge the Heaven’s Son of Fate?”