A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City-Chapter 128

Yun Duqing considered himself the most kind-hearted and understanding crown prince in history. Fearing his fourth brother would feel lonely imprisoned in the ancestral prison, he thoughtfully sent his third brother in as well, arranging his cell right next to the fourth brother’s.

However, Yun Yanze, who had already uncovered the truth, was far from welcoming his new neighbor.

The two brothers, now stripped of their former glory, sat separated by a wall, their gazes filled with nothing but hatred for each other.

“Back then, you deliberately copied Ming Jiuzhu’s paintings and showed them to me—was it just to manipulate me?”

“Who asked you to be so gullible?” Prince Jing sneered. “I originally planned to use more elaborate schemes to lure you in, but who knew my ‘brilliant and talented’ fourth brother would jump into the trap without even needing bait?”

“Third Brother, don’t mock me. At least I had my moment of glory—what about you?” Even in ruin, Yun Yanze maintained his innate elegance. “Since childhood, you’ve been inferior to me in talent, weaker than the eldest in martial arts, less handsome than Yun Duqing, and even your likable personality couldn’t match the second brother’s. Though the victor writes history, even in defeat, no one spared you a second glance.”

“Shut up!” Prince Jing’s face twisted like a monster crawling out of hell. “So what if you were talented and handsome? Sun Caiyao never persuaded the Sun family to support your ambitions. Meanwhile, the one you looked down on—Yun Duqing—married Ming Jiuzhu, who was devoted to him, and even the Ming family became his ally.”

He had always assumed the Ming family resented the marriage forced upon them by the royal family, treating Yun Duqing with such disdain that even the Ministry of Rites officials found it excessive.

But after Yun Duqing and Ming Jiuzhu married, and he frequently accompanied her back to the Ming residence, Prince Jing realized the truth—the Ming family’s coldness and hostility were all an act for outsiders.

He should have known. Given the emperor’s favor toward Yun Duqing, if the Ming family had truly humiliated him, why would Ming Jingzhou have been ennobled as a count before the marriage even took place?

“But you’re simply unlucky. If Sun Caiyao had married Yun Duqing instead, and you had wed Ming Jiuzhu, the Ming family would have supported you. Maybe you’d be the crown prince now.” Seeing Yun Yanze’s expression darken, Prince Jing felt a surge of satisfaction. “Even the heavens refused to aid you—such is your fate!”

Their conversation ended in mutual hatred.

Yun Yanze ignored Prince Jing, lying down on the hard brick bed as he drifted into sleep, his heart filled with resentment.

---

“Fourth Highness, your wedding robes are ready. Would you like to try them on?”

Yun Yanze opened his eyes to find himself seated in Prince Qi’s Mansion, surrounded by bowing palace maids and eunuchs, all exuding deference.

He tried to speak but found his body moving on its own.

“Bring them here.” Prince Qi glanced out the window. “Has His Majesty’s health improved?”

The eunuch shook his head. “The imperial physicians say that after the fifth prince’s death, His Majesty vomited blood and fainted from rage. It seems… he may not recover.”

“With the eldest brother disgraced as a commoner for murdering the fifth brother, and His Majesty in such a state, I cannot rest easy.” Prince Qi sighed as the palace tailors entered, carrying vibrant red wedding robes. “Never mind. With His Majesty so ill, how can I, as his son, have the heart to try on wedding attire? Take them away.”

“As you command.”

Yun Yanze stared at the familiar yet unfamiliar face before him, recognizing the false grief and filial piety.

Yun Duqing was dead? Yun Liu'an reduced to a commoner?

So this was a dream.

Only in dreams could he possess everything he desired.

The dream continued.

Prince Qi entered the palace to visit the emperor. The once-wise and benevolent ruler now lay withered on the dragon bed, his sunken eyes like a dying oil lamp.

His lips moved faintly, murmuring something.

Prince Qi turned to the attending eunuch, Liu Zhongbao. “Grand Eunuch Liu, what is His Majesty saying?”

He stepped closer to the bed and finally heard the whisper.

“My son…”

Straightening, Prince Qi offered a few perfunctory words of concern before leaving the desolate Taiyang Palace.

On his way out, he accidentally crossed paths with Consort Su, whose shrill voice forced him to kneel on the stone path.

This woman had been mad ever since losing her child.

Prince Qi wasn’t afraid of her punishments—in fact, the more deranged she became, the more it benefited him.

He knelt for an unknown length of time before Consort Su finally departed, allowing him to rise slowly.

“Consort Su is too cruel! Your Highness is to be wed in three days, yet she humiliates you like this!”

“Consort Su grieves for her lost child. As her junior, I should be understanding.” Prince Qi smiled magnanimously. “Let us return.”

As his carriage passed a jewelry shop, his expression softened. “This shop has new pieces. Send someone to deliver them to the young lady.”

Yun Yanze stared at his own face, baffled by the genuine affection in his smile. He had never held deep feelings for Sun Caiyao—why did he look so tender?

Before he could ponder further, the scene shifted abruptly.

Now he stood in a bridal chamber, the flickering candlelight casting a glow over the vivid double-happiness characters.

“Your Highness, the auspicious hour approaches.”

Prince Qi walked to the mansion’s entrance, watching the approaching bridal sedan. Unable to resist, he took a step forward.

“Your Highness, as a scion of the imperial family, you must not descend the steps to greet the bride. It is against protocol.”

His foot hovered at the edge of the final step.

The sedan chair landed, and the wedding attendant lifted the curtain. The bride emerged in crimson robes and a phoenix crown, her face hidden behind an ornate fan.

“Ming Jiuzhu?” Yun Yanze murmured, staring at the girl holding the dragon-and-phoenix fan. “Why is it her?”

Suddenly, the fan tilted slightly, and the bride turned her head toward him.

Her eyes were cold—devoid of emotion, even hostile.

No, Ming Jiuzhu was never like this.

In his memories, her eyes sparkled with warmth when she looked at him, not this… icy detachment.

“Congratulations to Your Highness and Lady Ming on this joyous union.”

Against his will, he followed her into the bridal chamber. She carelessly tore off the phoenix crown, strands of hair snapping in the process, yet she showed no sign of pain.

The embroidered fan was tossed to the floor and stepped on.

The room was filled with his favorite incense, but she walked to the burner, stared at it for a long moment, then poured tea over it, extinguishing the fragrance. Her dark pupils merged with the shadows—even the glow of countless candles couldn’t brighten them.

She had Ming Jiuzhu’s face, yet she was nothing like her.

In the banquet hall, Prince Qi charmed the guests with his grace, earning praises as a virtuous prince.

The festivities lasted until dawn. Only then did the triumphant groom return to his chambers, where his neglected bride waited to accompany him for morning courtesies.

“Bright Moon Palace is not a place you should visit.”

“Consort Su oversees the inner palace as its highest-ranking lady. It would be improper not to pay respects.”

Ming Jiuzhu’s court robes were elaborate, but perhaps to please Prince Qi, she had chosen an unusually pale shade today.

The wide sleeves fluttered through the air as Ming Jiuzhu, supported by her maid’s hand, strode resolutely toward Bright Moon Palace. She seemed utterly indifferent to Prince Qi’s disapproval of her decision.

Yun Yanze watched himself—gentle on the surface, yet seething with fury beneath. But for the sake of the Ming family’s standing in court, he endured.

He wanted to follow Ming Jiuzhu to Bright Moon Palace, but the scene shifted once more.

The second prince, mediocre in ability, was unfit to assist in governance. Countless court officials urged Prince Qi to temporarily oversee state affairs in the emperor’s stead.

Prince Qi repeatedly declined, claiming he lacked the virtue and talent for such responsibility.

Yun Yanze stood beside the dragon throne, cautiously tracing the carved dragon’s head before seating himself upon it.

The moment he sat, he felt its cold, unyielding surface. His gaze swept across the assembly, taking in every expression—the fawning, the ingratiating, and those who masked their thoughts behind neutral facades.

He noticed the Sun and Chen families, the Ming brothers, and the six ministers—their smiles never reaching their eyes.

Yet Prince Qi, basking in his triumph, remained oblivious.

Though he feigned humility, the ambition blazing in his eyes betrayed him.

Yun Yanze realized then that his own carefully crafted facade might not be as flawless as he had believed.

Even the dragon throne beneath him felt no different from an ordinary chair—spacious yet hollow.

Seated there, his mind wandered to Ming Jiuzhu. What was she doing now?

The cold, unfeeling Ming Jiuzhu bore little resemblance to the lively girl who once stood beside Yun Duqing, clutching her head in playful exasperation.

That day in the jewelry shop, he had found her endearing as she bantered with Yun Duqing.

But he disliked how her bright eyes held only Yun Duqing.

Still, she was his fifth brother’s wife. What concern was she of his?

He lifted his gaze, intending to study the courtiers’ expressions once more, only to find himself staring at a crescent moon in the night sky.

"May the Three Pure Ones bless Prince Chen in his next life with peace, prosperity, and longevity. This humble devotee offers her remaining years in exchange for his eternal tranquility."

Under the moonlight, Ming Jiuzhu lit incense, bowed deeply, and planted it amidst a patch of flowering mint. Her eyes shimmered with lethal intent.

A chill ran down Yun Yanze’s spine.

At that moment, she turned her head. Her ink-dark pupils, flecked with moonlight, seemed to pierce through him.

For an instant, he thought she could see him.

"My lady, the imperial kitchen sent these mint candies."

She took one, her brow furrowing slightly. "Sister Chunfen, the flavor is off."

"What taste would you prefer? I’ll have the kitchen prepare it."

"No need." She shook her head, gazing at the starless sky. "It no longer matters."

"Sister," she addressed the woman by the table, "Prince Qi harbors treacherous ambitions. Warn Father to be wary of him. Here’s a letter—take it to him at once."

The maid hesitated. "My lady, if Prince Qi notices your indifference, I fear he might harm you."

"Harm me?" She scoffed. "Rest assured, he will never lay a hand on me."

Once the maid departed, Ming Jiuzhu returned to her chamber and approached the incense burner.

From her sleeve, she produced a box of incense—Yun Yanze recognized it as the blend favored by Prince Jing’s mother, Lady Wei.

Footsteps echoed outside. She lit the incense.

Prince Qi stormed in, his fury met with her icy detachment, as if none of it concerned her.

Then she asked him, "Who killed Prince Chen?"

Prince Qi froze.

"Tell me," she continued, "if we both perish here tonight from poison, which prince do you think the emperor would suspect?"

The incense was toxic.

Yun Yanze understood too late. He watched himself turn to flee, only for Ming Jiuzhu to block his path.

Prince Qi slumped weakly in his chair as guards’ footsteps passed by outside. Desperate, he strained to cry out—but no sound came.

"You must wonder why I’m doing this."

Ming Jiuzhu seated herself opposite him, as though they were merely conversing. "A noble like you wouldn’t recall the child your grandfather’s men drowned in the river years ago. That child was me. To your dismay, I survived."

"Prince Chen saved me."

She laughed softly. "For years, I prayed before the Three Pure Ones, begging for his safety and happiness. And you destroyed it all."

Prince Qi’s pupils trembled.

Did she believe he and his mother had killed Yun Duqing?

"You sought his death." She drew a protective charm from her sleeve, pressing it to her heart. "The monks said I lacked the destiny for enlightenment. But this is how I repay my debt."

As Prince Qi’s consciousness faded, she added, "Oh, and my master has begun treating the emperor. He may yet recover."

"Even in death, your crimes will be exposed."

Yun Yanze could only watch as his dream-self succumbed to the poisoned incense Ming Jiuzhu had lit.

He remembered then—he had once plotted to kill Yun Duqing the same way.

In the dream, both he and Ming Jiuzhu perished, yet he remained trapped within it.

He saw the emperor gradually regain health, saw Ming Jingzhou uncover every one of his schemes, and then plead for an imperial decree permitting Ming Jiuzhu’s posthumous divorce from Prince Qi.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‍tale of the Ming daughter who avenged her savior by uncovering the truth of Prince Chen’s murder—only to die with Prince Jing in a poisoned chamber—spread throughout the capital.

When the truth implicated both Prince Qi and Prince Jing, public sympathy swung to Ming Jiuzhu. Poets penned verses praising her loyalty and lamenting her tragic fate.

A posthumous divorce was unheard of, yet none dared criticize Ming Jingzhou.

In the end, Consort Su intervened, ensuring Ming Jiuzhu was buried not with Prince Qi, but near Prince Chen’s tomb.

Her maids, knowing her fondness for mint, planted it around her grave. Over time, the mint flourished, its verdant tendrils stretching toward Prince Chen’s resting place.

Yun Yanze lost all sense of time in the dream—was it years, or mere moments? fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

When he awoke to the sight of prison bars, he wondered if he still dreamed.

Beyond his cell, jailers conversed while newly imprisoned men wailed for mercy.

"Traitor Yanze, today is His Majesty’s birthday. Out of benevolence, the Crown Prince permits you to kneel outside Taiyang Palace tonight—in shackles—to pay respects."

After months in confinement, he stared blankly as the cell door opened.

To prevent suicide, they bound him in chains and fitted a gag over his mouth.

Dressed in clean robes, he hesitated at the prison gate, suddenly afraid of the sunlight.

Shoved into a plain carriage, he used his bound hands to lift the curtain, hungrily drinking in the world outside.

Then the carriage halted. The driver’s voice cut through the silence.

"The carriage ahead belongs to Lady Sun. Let us avoid it for now."

"Young Mistress," the maidservant lifted the curtain and glanced outside. "The carriage beside us bears the insignia of the Zong family."

"Pay it no mind." Sun Caiyao did not even look. "Today is His Majesty's birthday. Though I cannot enter the palace, I must visit the temple to offer incense and prayers for his longevity. We must not delay."

"As you wish."

The carriages passed each other, their occupants never lifting the curtains to exchange a glance.

They were never meant to be. Even if forced, it would all come to nothing in the end.

At the imperial birthday banquet, Yun Duqing finished speaking with his two elder brothers and turned to see Ming Jiuzhu happily sipping sweet wine, her cheeks flushed.

"How many cups have you had?" He took the cup from her hand and fed her a bite of food instead.

"Three cups." Jiuzhu held up five fingers. "Your Highness, this is sweet and delicious. You should try it."

"You say three, but your hand shows five..." Yun Duqing sighed and caught her wrist as she reached for the wine again. "You're drunk."

"Your Highness," Jiuzhu gazed at him with pleading eyes. "I want more."

"No, you don't." He refused sternly—only for Jiuzhu to press a kiss to his cheek. "Just one more cup, please?"

Prince An and his consort, seated nearby, stifled laughter. When Yun Duqing shot them a look, they quickly lowered their heads, pretending they hadn't seen a thing.

"To beg for wine, you'd even resort to seduction? Ming Jiuzhu, you've outdone yourself." No sooner had he spoken than she cupped his face and kissed his other cheek.

"Your Highness." Her large, glistening eyes and pitiful expression melted his resolve.

"Half a cup," Yun Duqing relented, pouring her a small measure. "After this, no more."

"Your Highness is the best!" Jiuzhu hugged him briefly before happily drinking.

In the end, she drank several "half-cups" before finally settling down, drowsily leaning against his shoulder.

Prince Huai and his wife, along with Prince An and his consort, were quietly laughing. Ignoring them, Yun Duqing sighed and wrapped an arm around Jiuzhu’s waist, adjusting her so she could rest more comfortably.

Princess Huai suddenly stopped laughing. She shot her husband a disdainful look and pinched his side.

"Ah!" Prince Huai nearly leapt from his seat.

What was that for?

Now he understood—her usual gentleness had been an act! Ever since she started spending time with Princess Consort An and the Crown Princess, emboldened by their camaraderie, her true, domineering nature had emerged!

And worst of all, the Crown Princess adored her. What could he do but endure?

Besides... besides...

Even if she was harsh at times, she still treated him well.

"Did you see how the Crown Prince treats his consort?" Princess Huai sternly swapped Prince Huai’s wine for a bowl of sobering soup. "Learn from him."

"The Crown Princess could kick a two-hundred-pound man across the room. Would the Crown Prince dare cross her?" Prince Huai grumbled. "And here you are, always scolding me. Shouldn’t I be the one complaining?"

"What do you know?" Princess Huai was amused by his sulking. "The Crown Princess may be fierce, but have you ever seen her raise her voice at His Highness?"

Prince Huai paused. "Now that you mention it... why is that?"

Whenever the Crown Princess saw the Crown Prince, she bloomed like a flower, her voice soft and sweet, calling him "my dear prince" or "the best in the world," as if he could do no wrong in her eyes.

Strangely, the usually lazy and temperamental Crown Prince became gentle and attentive around her, even more so than when speaking to their mother.

"Why else?" Princess Huai watched the affectionate couple with a tender smile. "Because they cherish each other wholeheartedly."

To give one’s true heart and to treasure another’s in return—that is the purest love.

As the banquet ended, the tipsy Jiuzhu obediently let Yun Duqing lead her away. Descending the palace steps, she nearly missed a step and tumbled, but he caught her just in time.

"Your Highness." Unfazed, she beamed up at him, her eyes curved like crescents.

Yang Yiduo stepped forward. "Your Highness, shall this servant summon a palanquin?"

"No need." Yun Duqing bent down and hoisted Jiuzhu onto his back. "If she falls from a palanquin in this state, she’ll cry for sure."

Yang Yiduo glanced at the Crown Princess, happily nestled against the prince’s back, and quietly retreated.

He should have known better than to ask.

"Your Highness."

"Hm?"

"The moon is so bright tonight."

"Mm."

"So I’m keeping you company under the moonlight." Jiuzhu rested her head against his shoulder. "You’re the best prince in the whole world."

Yun Duqing paused mid-step. He looked up at the radiant moon and chuckled softly. "Yes, thank you for keeping me company."

"No need to thank me. I’ll stay with you no matter what." She nuzzled his back and pressed a kiss to his ear.

"If I’m the best prince, does that mean I’m your favorite?" Yun Duqing resumed walking.

Silence from behind him made the smile on his lips fade.

"My master once said that liking someone brings joy, but love becomes part of your soul." Jiuzhu wrapped her arms gently around his shoulders and whispered, "What I feel for you isn’t just liking. It’s love."

Yun Duqing laughed again, his voice brimming with happiness.

Feeling Jiuzhu doze off against his shoulder, he murmured, "Who’s keeping whom company? I’m the one carrying a little pig under the moonlight."

Suddenly, he halted. At the end of the corridor, shrouded in darkness beyond the lanterns’ glow, stood Yun Yanze, his mouth gagged. Several armed guards flanked him, ensuring he could not escape.

The brothers’ eyes met. Neither spoke—there was nothing left to say.

One was the exalted Crown Prince; the other, a name struck from the imperial records.

The guards bowed. "Your Highness."

Yun Duqing acknowledged them with a nod, utterly unbothered by the fact that he was carrying his wife, and strode past them without hesitation.

Yun Yanze watched them go. The girl on Yun Duqing’s back, cheeks still flushed with wine and joy, seemed too bright for the cold palace halls.

Jiuzhu shifted in her sleep, turning her face away and leaving him with only the back of her head.

A breeze carried the faint scent of mint from the couple.

He remembered the dream—the sprawling field of mint between Ming Jiuzhu’s grave and Prince Chen’s tomb.

"Prisoner Yanze, move along."

He lowered his gaze to the shackles on his wrists.

A dream was just a dream.

False, and never to be real.