From CEO to Concubine-Chapter 167: Red Bean

If Cui An were the sort of individual to have wild dreams, he still wouldn’t be a captain in the Yulin Army in any of them. The common folk just had no place amongst the nobility, which made up its ranked positions. Younger or illegitimate sons of high-ranking officials or noblemen, these were the kinds of people that became captain of the guard in the Yulin Army, not people like Cui An. At best, he was expected to be a foot soldier, carrying out the grunt work and listening to better men barking out orders for him to follow.

At worst, he was only good enough for guarding prison.

When Cui An was first brought to the Yulin Army barracks and assigned a small squadron for him to lead, he was fully prepared for this to be an uphill battle. And truth be told, it was. No one wanted to listen to a commander whose father was a nobody, whose entire miserable family was worth less than the subpar vase that served as an opener at the auction the other night.

But Cui An hadn’t cared. He wasn’t here to make friends and rub shoulders with the elite, he was here to make friends. It was difficult to carry out his job if his subordinates had no desire to listen to him but that was what military punishment was for.

Perhaps he was too inflexible for the job. He certainly thought that he was. A more ambitious man might have used the opportunity to expand their connections but Cui An sought stability and peace more than he did money and power. After that time with the panel interview—he still wasn’t familiar with this concept even after having gone through it once—he had a good think about it and concluded that Imperial Noble Consort Yue must have been responsible for this promotion of his, whether directly or otherwise. There was no one else that might have felt like they owed Cui An anything in this dreadful place.

Cui An was grateful nonetheless, even if he didn’t think he’d last all that long and was possibly destined to amount to nothing more than a disappointment. But at least, for the next couple of months, his mother would have more food on her table.

As for that ridiculous statement one of the officials had uttered during his interview, the one about leading the entire Yulin Army, well, Cui An had long since concluded that he must have heard wrongly. After joining the barracks, he hadn’t been given more than a small team to work with and already he felt that being granted a captaincy had been more than he’d deserved, especially given that he had nothing to prove his worth.

But then he’d been introduced to Great General Pan. He’d been given the chance to train with the northern army and see what men truly bred for war were capable of. It was here that he learnt just how laughable the Yulin Army was. Compared to the heroes of the North that kept the wolves at bay with the tips of their bloodied spears, the Yulin Army was nothing more than a bunch of spoiled young brats masquerading in costume like they were about to go for a fancy banquet for the evening.

This was what that one official who had led his interview had meant by ’part-time education’. On top of managing his little squad of young masters, Cui An had to make constant trips to Great General Pan’s encampment to learn the art of war.

It was an exhausting task but one he’d welcomed. For the first time since entering the inner palace, Cui An had felt meaning in his life.

That meaning was heightened when he took a blade on behalf of their emperor, seeing him up close for the first time during that assassination attempt and recognising him as the young man who had had the final say in Cui An’s promotion.

His mother’s pride. Their better life. Everything was owed to His Majesty and Imperial Noble Consort Yue. Dying was worth it; if it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t even have amassed enough money for his mother to survive for her remaining days should he leave this world before her. Sure, he still didn’t have much and she was still a far cry from being as comfortable as he hoped she could be, but already they were so much better of.

One should always learn to be content; this was a lesson his mother had taught him from a young age when he still hadn’t been mature enough to tolerate the incessant rumbling of his belly. That was why he hadn’t resented anyone when his injuries led to him being removed from his previous squad. It was why he didn’t resent anyone now, one month later, when he’d finally recovered enough to commence duties once more, only to be assigned to the squad in charge of patrolling the abodes of the princes.

Cui An didn’t have to be in the know about politics to be aware that this was considered as unglamorous a job as one could get. It was a joke to have to patrol the abodes given that only one of it was occupied by a prince that wasn’t even the offspring of the current reigning emperor.

A man with dreams of greater prospects might have felt like he was treated unfairly by his superiors. Cui An was just thankful that the light patrol duties of the squad he headed meant that he had ample opportunity to continue recuperation and not aggravate his wound.

Not to mention, his new little charge was not as removed from the centre of the storm as plenty seemed to think he was. Cui An had built up a habit of being observant and it hadn’t taken him long to notice strange things about his new squad. For one, there were a lot more of them than he’d expected to guard just one small master. They all came from the smaller noble clans, those without much standing in court. The other odd thing about them was that they were all illegitimate sons and so far removed from the influential circles of their family that they didn’t cultivate the same arrogant mannerisms that were so ingrained in some of their counterparts.

Lastly, they never entered Tang Yan Palace. When Cui An asked about it, they only said that they’d received strict instructions from above that only their captain was allowed to have an audience with His Little Highness.

It was expected of Cui An, in fact. After patrolling, his duties were expressly to stand guard over the ninth prince from close proximity until the night watch took over. As a result, he obtained even more insight into the little prince’s situation.

He knew that the little prince was being pushed to study hard, enough to elicit a wobbly pout by the time the sun set every evening. He also knew that contrary to what many thought, the prince had the devoted attention of both His Majesty and Imperial Noble Consort Yue on him, the both of them dropping by nondescriptly at various hours of the day, either to follow-up with the young boy’s work or to spend time with him.

And when they weren’t around, there was Yun En, the ninth prince’s chief maidservant, who kept vigil over the little boy like he was her world.

Apart from the little prince, Yun En was the only other person Cui An spent time with regularly these days. She was a young lady, with a softness to her beauty that Ah Miao had used to try and mimic all the time, never mind that he’d told her time and again that she was lovely as she was with all her feisty energy.

He couldn’t shake off the feeling that Yun En was more complicated than that though. Despite her gentle veneer—she only ever greeted him with polite respect and had on more than one occasion thoughtfully included him when she’d left to obtain refreshments for the young prince—she commanded an aura of authority that he hadn’t thought such a wisp of a girl capable of. The other maidservants, for example, were wary of her; Cui An could read their behaviour well enough. As such, he had been cautious around her too, up until he’d seen the trust the emperor had accorded to her, relying on her report of the young prince’s day with no hesitation.

After that, he’d learnt to appreciate her just for being outstanding in her own right.

Sweet when she had leeway to be and strict when she had no other choice, this was Yun En.

Cui An hadn’t realised that he was starting to spend more and more time thinking about her until today when he saw one of the other maidservants—the one with a peculiar lilt in her voice that made her sound particularly childish, something that appeared to appeal to the young prince—approach His Little Highness when Yun En was busy in the kitchens.

One of the most important tasks that Yun En fulfilled was the supervision of the ninth prince’s meals; she didn’t cook them herself but it was imperative that she screened the entire process from the selection of the ingredients picked straight from the imperial buttery right before cooking all the way to the preparation itself, her eyes didn’t leave the meal even once.

But this meant that she couldn’t keep an eye on the young prince, who often took this as a chance to relax for a while. Cui An, who had memorised her schedule by now, always stayed behind to remain watchful over him, didn’t think it his place to chastise the poor boy for taking a nap or choosing to climb up and down the false stone mountains in his garden for some relaxing playtime.

Perhaps Cui An gave off the impression that he was rather negligent; he could be found reclining against a tree or a rock, grass blade dangling from his lips and arm tucked behind his nap like he was ready to nod off himself.

This might be why the maidservant that chose to approach the little prince now hadn’t realised that Cui An’s gaze, partially hooded because of the glare from the lazy afternoon sun, had never left the ninth prince.

"Little Highness," she said, beckoning to him with an impish, doting smile after an exaggerated furtive glance around.

The ninth prince blinked blearily at her. He’d just been about to nod off. But after working for him for a while, Cui An had learnt that this little master might be pampered but the same people that gave him the finest life had also raised him to have a beautiful temper.

"What is it, Big Sister Xia?"

Big Sister Xia reached into her sleeves and magicked out a cute pastry, presenting it to the prince with a flourish. "Look what this servant sneaked out of the kitchens for you!"

Cui An’s eyes narrowed as the prince’s brightened. But instead of reaching out and grabbing it, the ninth prince hesitated.

"This prince isn’t supposed to eat anything without supervision," he mumbled.

Big Sister Xia looked at him sympathetically. "This servant knows," she said mournfully, squatting down next to him and sighing theatrically. Next to each other, they looked like a pair of miscreant children mourning the loss of their favourite toy. "But this servant watched the imperial buttery prepare this especially for one of the niangniangs, there’s no way this isn’t safe, Your Highness!" Her eyes widened earnestly. "This servant felt sorry that Imperial Noble Consort Yue is so strict...and thought that if I begged for a piece, it would make you happy..."

The ninth prince’s face turned conflicted. "It’s not Big Brother Yue’s fault," he said immediately, the conviction in his tone charming with his childlike voice and bringing a smile to Cui An’s lips. "I—this prince does want to eat it but..."

"It’s just a small pastry," Big Sister Xia coaxed. "I won’t tell Big Sister Yun En, I just want you to enjoy yourself after such a hard day at work, this servant’s heart aches for you..."

She spoke with just the right amount of sincerity. Cui An could see the moment the young prince’s resolve wavered but he didn’t wait for any longer to see if it could withstand the challenge. Royalty or not, the little prince was only a child and it was his responsibility to protect him from any danger, whether it be in the form of an actual physical attack or from a more insidious source.

"Little Highness."

Cui An’s stoic voice cut across the yard, interrupting the conspiratorial whispering between master and servant at the window. He rose to his feet and walked over, noticing how Big Sister Xia froze up and lowered the pastry, as though she wanted to conceal it from his sight by allowing the flowing fabric of her sleeves to drape over. Cui An didn’t give her the opportunity to, however. In one swift motion, he reached over the windowsill, startling a gasp from the little prince as he seized Big Sister Xia’s wrist and removed the pastry from her slack grip.

"This servant has offended Your Highness," he intoned perfunctorily, falling onto a knee in penance. "I will accept any punishment meted out to me after but this servant has a duty to report this breach in Your Highness’ security to His Majesty."

Panic flitted over the little prince’s face but he didn’t hesitate to say, "This prince sees nothing to punish Captain Cui for." His eyes darted uncertainly over to Big Sister Xia, whose face had turned ashen with the mention of the emperor. "But Captain Cui...Big Sister Xia was just being kind to this prince...is it necessary to tell Royal Brother..."

Clearly, the boy knew that what lay in store for a servant for breached the rules of Tang Yan Palace was not pleasant. But Cui An could come up with an adequate response that would take into consideration his little master’s fragile feelings, a gentle but stern voice responded for him.

"If our Little Highness came to any harm, how do you think your Royal Brother would feel?"

Cui An immediately raised his hands in a salute, though he kept his head bowed, not daring to lay eyes upon the arresting visage that belonged to this speaker. "This subject pays Imperial Noble Consort Yue respects."

"Rise."

"This subject thanks Imperial Noble Consort Yue!"

Big Sister Xia had fallen to her knees in a deep kowtow. "This servant begs Imperial Noble Consort Yue for mercy!" she cried. "This servant is aware that she has broken the rules of Tang Yan Palace but it was all for the little prince."

"Don’t be so quick as to push the blame onto a child, you’ll be surprised by how clever they can be," was the imperial noble consort’s cold reply. "Liu An, did you ask for desserts out of mealtime?"

He was speaking to the little prince as an elder, Cui An realised, once again learning something new about the extent of their closeness.

The ninth prince shook his head. "Big Brother Yue, Liu An did not."

Tears streamed down Big Sister Xia’s cheeks. "Your Highness, you kept telling this servant that you wished for some red bean pastries...that was the only reason why I dared to go to the imperial buttery to get some for you..."

The little prince’s mouth flattened. "This prince did indeed say that, Big Brother Yue, but only as a passing comment and it was directed at Big Sister Yun En instead."

Big Sister Xia’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Little Highness," she stammered. "Are you—are you accusing this servant too?" She turned to Imperial Noble Consort Yue, shuffling so frantically between the two masters that Cui An could only imagine the state of her knees. "Imperial Noble Consort Yue Langjun is fair and just and will return this servant’s innocence! His Highness is but a child and his fear for getting scolded means that he—he—"

"That he’s not trustworthy?" Cui An interjected suddenly. "How about my word then? Does that count for nothing to?" Swiftly and before she could stop him, he regaled what he’d witnessed to Imperial Noble Consort Yue. This would even save him time of having to seek an audience with His Majesty since it was now apparent that reporting to one was the same as the other.

Imperial Noble Consort Yue nodded. "This consort understands the situation now." He turned to Big Sister Xia, an arm wrapped protectively around his little charge. Cui An noticed how he’d tugged the young boy slightly behind him and marvelled at how the imperial noble consort hoped to shield him with that slender frame. "Do you know what your biggest mistake is?"

Big Sister Xia gaped at him wordlessly.

"Why would I trust you over a child that I personally raised?" Yan Zheyun asked. "Even if he were in the wrong, that is for me to discover through making informed deductions and not for you to tell me what to think based on stereotyping!"

Cui An didn’t understand some of the words that he used—neither did Big Sister Xia, it seemed—but it didn’t matter to the imperial noble consort.

"Captain Cui!"

Cui An stood at attention and awaited orders.

"Is the evidence on hand?"

"In response to Imperial Noble Consort Yue, here it is."

The imperial noble consort smiled and picked up the pastry. "This consort isn’t as capable as you make me out to be," he said. "I might not be able to restore your innocence but this can...if you truly are as clean as you claim to be."